Every Wednesday held some beautiful memories for Dara. And in coming years, when she wanted to remember her dad, she would specifically reminisce on those memories.
On Wednesdays, her and her mum would sit in the living room, occasionally looking at the clock and anticipating. And when it was almost 8pm, her feet would start to bounce in excitement. Dad was not always home during the week. His work was one that required him to work long hours at the office and so the company had provided him with accomodation in the company’s quarters. He only came home on Wednesday nights and then he was off the next day. So, his coming home was always one that brought joy and excitement to her and her mum.
Her ears would perk up, listening for the telltale sounds that signified her dad’s arrival. His engine always gave a slight hiss and then he would horn twice. And she would be speeding out of the house, on her way to open the gate. When he drove through the gates, she would wave and smile at him and he would smile in return. That lopsided smile he had passed down to her. And she would lock the gates and speed into his arms with the energy only a 12 year old could muster. And he would be swinging her around, her giggles infectious. Her mum would be patiently waiting for him to drop her before hugging him warmly, a smile spreading on her face. When Dara looked at them, she always imagined that that was what she wanted her married life to look like; a life of contentment and warmth with the one you loved.
There was always a ritual they performed on that day. After dinner of vegetables soup and wheat flour, they would sit on the cold white tiles of the living room and her dad would open his signature briefcase and bring out stacks of money. “Let's sort this into 50s, 100s, 500s and 1,000s.” He would say. “Dara, sort out the 1,000 naira notes. I and your mother would do the rest,” and she would gleefully do it. While sorting the money out, she would be listening to snatches of her parents conversation, trying to understand what was being said. She had always been a curious child. Her dad would talk about issues at the office and his co-workers. He talked about lazy Jummy, funny Kenneth and troublesome Lara. Her mum would laugh at what he said and even Dara would smile, just cause she loved the sound of her mum’s laughter.
Suddenly, her dad stopped bringing money home. She asked him why and he tried to explain it as simply as he could that there was shortage of cash in the country. But when her parents thought she had gone to bed, she heard them arguing. Her mum asking him why he had gotten involved in fraud. Him answering that it was all a lie and a coup done by co-workers that hated him to get rid of him. Her mum would cry and ask what they were going to do if it was true and he got arrested. He would reply that it wasn't true and she should have more trust in him. Dara trusted her dad entirely. He was faultless and innocent in her eyes and could never go wrong and of course, she was right. The true fraudsters were caught and her dad was free and their lives continued.
Then her mum’s laughter stopped. Her dad stopped coming home frequently. He would come once or twice in a month. She still anticipated his arrivals but her mum didn't anymore. Her mum would just sit in silence, her eyes hooded with a sadness Dara couldn't decipher. Then when Dad arrived and everyone was settled, conversations would be stilted and Dad didn't talk about his co-workers anymore. Instead, the silence yawned and stretched between them and Dara could see the gap widening more. Dara was too young to comprehend and pin where exactly the problem was. She remembered when her best friend, Fola had told her that her mum was not living with them again. Fola had explained that it had started with her dad's frequent absences. Then came the conversations devoid of life and then the silence. The silence before her mum said she had had enough and packed up and left. Dara could see the pattern taking shape in her own home and she was scared one of the two people she loved the most would leave.
All of a sudden, her Dad stopped showing up anymore. She kept pestering her mum, asking her why dad wouldn't come again. Her mum would tell her it was because the workload was too much, or because he had to travel out. A month turned to four months and her dad never showed up. She stopped asking her mum if her dad would show up. She just sat in the living room every Wednesday and glanced at the clock. Once it was 8pm, she would go to her bedroom and lock the door.
One Wednesday evening, she was heading to her bedroom when she heard her mother’s raised voice. She was speaking to someone on the phone.
“Daniel, listen to me, listen to me.”
Her mum was speaking to her dad. She tiptoed closer to the door, her ears straining to catch conversation.
“Daniel, Dara needs to see you. She has stopped asking of you. She's hurting. And I don't know for how long I can explain your long absences.” Her dad replied and her mum’s voice raised a notch.
“Please, Daniel. I am not asking you to leave your other family. Just come to see her from time to time. It would take nothing from you to spend a day here.”
Dara could not understand what her mother meant by other family. Other family how?? Did she mean extended family or what? She needed to ask her mother. So, she pushed open the door and her mother startled when she saw her, the phone almost slipping from her hands. She cleared her throat before saying, “Daniel, I will call you back. Please, pick when I do.” Then she dropped the phone and turned towards Dara.
“Were you listening all this while?” Her mum asked. Dara only nodded to the question. Her mum sighed and sat on the bed, then patted the space beside her, motioning her to sit.
“I'm sorry you had to hear that.”
“What did you mean by other family, mummy?” Dara asked, already finding her voice.
“Hmmm,” Her mum placed her hands around Dara’s shoulders. “I wasn't expecting to tell you this so soon. Or to tell you ever. But I guess I wouldn't have been able to hide it at some point. I wanted to protect your father's image. It's why I kept lying to you. Hmmm, your dad has another wife. She's pregnant with a son at the moment. It's why your dad hasn't been able to come home.”
“I'm not going to believe that. Dad loves us and he always told me he didn't need any other thing in his life, except from us.” Dara’s voice shook as she said this. She watched her mum’s eyes water.
“Sometimes, love isn't enough, Dara. It isn't. Your dad needs a son and I can't give him that. After you, I was advised by the doctors not to try getting pregnant again as I could risk losing my life in the process. I wanted to try but your dad wouldn't hear a word of it. I could see how much he wanted a son, Dara. Even his family has been pestering him. I thought he wouldn succumb to pressure because he loved us. He does love us but the pressure was too much for him so he had to look outside.”
Tears rolled down Dara’s cheeks as she tried to grasp the truth. That she hadn't been enough for her father. That he could leave her and her mother. The pure image of him that she kept in her mind shattered. He was not the innocent loving father she thought he was. He didn't love her enough. Her mum hugged her tight. “You can't hate him, Dara. He loves you very much. Things are just really complicated. You can't hate him.” Dara hugged her mum back when she felt tears on her shoulder. Her mum was crying too. For the first time, she would see her mum crying.
“But don't worry. I am here for you. I will love you enough. You are enough for me.” Her mum said as she cleaned the tears from Dara’s cheeks and held her face tenderly. “You are enough for me, do you hear?”
Dara only nodded in response. She didn't know what to believe anymore.