Hi, my name
is Sa’eedah Olamide;- legitimate and favourite daughter of Sheikh Ahmad
Onilewura. We hail from the league of “Imams and Alfas” circus of Osun state.
My grandfather was the previous chief Imam of Oshogbo, who lasted eternity on
the seat while my father is the current deputy chief Imam II.of the Nigerian
national mosque in Abuja. I am the 9th of his 12 children, with my
mother as the ONLY wife and the rest as “baby mommas”…….
Those dots
following my last sentence indicate infinity i.e. my statement is to be
continued, or not any more for your eyes to read. “The one wey you don do don
do” loooool [:p]. I introduced the theme of our discussion with that briefing
of my family background;- as the conc Islamic type with immense polygamy as the
immediate religious practice.
I count
myself alongside every other person in the same shoes as mine fit enough to
discuss this bold theme I call “SHATTERED GRASS.” There is this strong Yoruba
saying that “ti erin meji ba ji nigbo,koriko ibe lo ma n jiya” (when two
elephants wrestle on a field, the grass suffers the ruins) You see where I
coined out “Shattered Grass”?
Our parents
symbolise the two elephants which when they wrestle we the children suffer
greatly. I am sharing the context of
this discussion from my personal,past and present experience of which am sure I
am not an alien who alone shares this kind of story. This is not limited to the
youths and kids, I am reaching out to adults,parents and the offspring
generation.
I write this
day as a “Shattered Grass” of polygamy,parental separation and single
parenthood. (Jezuz! Only me ???)[:D] Ask me how it has been;- I will lend you a
quick smile, the sort that I will snatch back before I even think of a response
and I even doubt an appropriate response sef! Oh boy no just bother ask me tory
abeg! When I talk about the suffering of a shattered grass,calm your nerves
down don’t imagine the worst. It only comes in varying dimensions but doesn’t
leave its impact not imprinted in all areas of our lives.
I am the
conductor of our danfo today, please hasten up to catch the speeding bus
whether na standing abi na lapping make we quick reach bus stop abeg. Passenger
I no get change ooo! In a tush version:- be my guest ladies and gentlemen, I’ve
got the limo waiting outside to take us to the cocktail party, I shall be your
chauffeur. Any version you choose fellas, I need more than your scrolling
fingers on the device as you read this, I need your mind and soul to consume
this.
Shattered
grass as a victim of polygamy. I firmly flout against that ‘mee lolorun wi”
thingy. It took me hours of brainstorming and dictionary flipping as I delved
into the Quran An-Nisa chapter 4 vs 3 where from the popular saying was tailored
into habit, making my father and your fathers amass wives like garments. ……”and
if you fear that you shall not be able to deal justly with the orphans
girls,then marry other women of your choice,two or three or four but if you
fear that you shall not be able to deal justly with them,then marry ONLY one
that your right hands possess that is nearer to prevent you from doing
injustice” So I ask:- can many men deal justly as said by God? Hell No! No man
can deal justly but only Allah (S.W.T) the sovereign God of equality and
justice.
This is not a religion drunken write-up. Polygamy exists in christian
homes too but the major host of this virus is the muslim homes.
In scenario
as this,the love of unison is smeared by jealousy and jet-speeding competition,
a bright smile is underlined with wicked grin,roaring laughter is undertoned
with silent curses,eye contacts and glances are molded with sheer hatred.
Nobody wishes nobody well! “goodday goodmorning” pleasantries are decrypted as
“fall down and die” lmao! It atimes doesn’t get this bad, depending on the
level of crrrrase your
stepmother,brothers and sisters have. Mine wasn’t as awful as this picture i
painted tho, you can blame my imaginations on too much Yoruba movies. Lol
[x_x]. I should leak a sneak from my own side and share with you the gnashing
prickle I suffer as a “shattered grass”? I cry some bitter dawns into daybreak
for how my rights abysmally turned into privilege, for how I wallow in lack
that only my fair skin can tell how it shadows my scars. (Packaging) loool.
Many dark nights I just want to tap Iya’beji (my mummy), wake her up and
whisper in question:- where on the face of the earth did she meet Sheikh (my
daddy)??? I just rather sleep back and whisper her prayers of grace,strength
and long life to savour the sweet fruits of her dripping sweats. *wipes tears*
On the flipside when I have to come face to face with my daddy fidgeting like a
staggering toddler in fear to speak out my demands, he clears his throat and
adjusts his glasses like “go on…” that is know at the back of your mind say no
be only you I born oooo! Ibraheem,Zainab,Ahmad,Abdul Lateef,Afsat dey ground
ooo [lmao] One whole football team plus extra sef. I just want to hunt out the
insect in his eyes (ojukokoro) that made him breed us this much. When we no be
broiler.Chineke! Talk to the hand don’t mock me ooo…how many your papa born?
This is no gainsaying I have heard of a family with 40 children.
Subuannalahi!!! How do they survive?
In my rickety-pickety-jalopy
fun ride, I’d like my fellow shattered grass from the polygamous ish to step
aside. Let us single parenthood victims take the front seat. Eheheh is there
anybody drooling there? Sa’eedah you are there again??? Don’t blame me,blame my
fate. Along the line, my mother had to leave my father for a peaceful living.
Hear me out.
The trio of
my sisters and I can be likened to a flower tree with varying colourful seeds.
Conspicuous as sin, glaring like robust chest-nuts. You know wah ha mean….(in
Vector’s voice) *winks* My 2 plump elegant faced thick madams (my elder sisters
tho) tough as thorns,vibrant as resonance, of which me sef no carry last
ehehehe *self hype* Me- your gracious slim bulgy eyes fairy. If nothing but
this, you can always trust my simile anytime. No hyperbole, no fallacy they are
just as I express them. Somebody say “scammer Wash” (in Olamide’s voice),
somebody puff that nose up and whisper “Yimu” and some stern nigga be like K, the chics be like
“looooool.” I am having fun with my pen and paper;I hope somebody hasn’t got
tired of reading? I speak of my mother’s children as beautiful pieces dangling
like gold pearl (again I hyped? X_X) whom she has to hustle through the odds
and waves of life to keep alive and nurtured . It aint easy breathing as a lady
mayne! While growing up,mummy plays the dual role of father at the same time;
wading off sucking flies of the crazy outside world cos we all females (You
dig?) Many times it takes soft spoken counsel of all hours both night and day
“Beware and be careful; ranti omo eni ti iwo se, ranti ile too ti jade wa”.
Mummy
schools and works to show herself
approved in the daily updating world of tech and literacy, yet her 3ladies must
fly out as graduates too. (I’m the only one left in the undergraduate race now
tho) She navigates the far terrain of Oke Ogun part of Nigeria (anybody knows
that zone?) while we wriggle the dense world of vulnerability and tempts out
there to see that we are fit and not too corrupted [:p]
I should ask about my fellow
victims with their dad or mom alone too? I know before you speak, our watchword
is the laden of responsibility. Just so a supposed combined effort and shared
responsibility is summed up on one shoulder.
Together let
us all ‘shattered grass’ chatter out in decibel of notes and voices about our
some sort distorted lives…..*cover ears*its so gonna be deafening cos tongues
wont stop wailing. Melo la fe so, melo la fe ka ninu eyin adipele, omo! Oro po
ninu iwe kobo. I cannot categorically say our lives were distorted, I’d rather
say it didn’t go in the exact tune that we so cherish. Not much of luxury and
comfort as we see in our dreams. Our parental rapport essentially determines
our social interaction and standards you know? As for me with the deficient parental
attention who lived the dawn of life within the high fenced walls of boarding
school; I tend to find sole confidant in few friends, with sour love story
gulped down my belly. I was burgled of my personal emotions,humiliated,
ridiculed and tortured. Pray never to be amputated off it; but trust me am
alive and waxing stronger.
Quoting from
one of my previous posts about “The Silver spoon” are a few of us “Shattered
Grass” that ask what it looks like. Hustlers and conquerors. Having wept and
now smiling to myself as I write I, I have my cup brimmed of the lessons I have learnt in all instances and am
sure of you too as you read and nod in agreement with me.
The gold
shield that distinguishes us from others is our “Independence” True this;
anyone who has seen the dark, luminous, cloudy and shinning perspectives of
parental hiccups must sure emerge as a soldier. Strong, valiant,determinant and
independent in all affairs; be it emotional management, decision making and all
sorts.
How about we
all shattered grass and smooth grass chant our best verses of the holy books
(Quran and Bible). I’ll recite my Suratul Falaq and An-Nas for prayers of refuge,
protection and secured future that the err our parents committed,we shall not
repeat, that our generation and generations to come shall not follow the ill
trail, that we shall raise bright and pure children, that we shall all have
happy homes and above all we shall find peace in all our endeavors. Aamin!
I went MIA
(missing in action) again! This time almost lasted forever….. I hope this piece
brings me back to mind? What did I miss fellas? [:)]
Love Y’all
Sa’eedah!
