THE DOOR
The loud, shrieking sound from the landline rattled my attention. From the other end, my Secretary in her usual casual manner spoke; "There's a woman outside who wants to see you Sir" she said". "Did she make any appointments?",I asked, apparently not paying much attention, wielding my pen as I worked through countless office files. "No Sir, but she said it's really urgent", she continued. I took in a deep breath, sighed and then ordered that the woman be sent in.
"Goodmorning Sir", a rather cracked voice said. "Abeg no vex, but my cousin bin refer me to you. She say you fit help me act as guarantor to the loan wey I wan take from bank"..... I smiled, apparently not because of her squeaky, cracked voice but due to the fluency of her Pidgin.
Raising my head up, I looked intently at the face that held such voice. But sooner, I sincerly wished I hadn't.
I looked on with utmost perusal. Was I dreaming?,Was this some trance? I pinched my skin, pinched it so hard but no, I wasn't. I intensely searched her eyes for any flicker of recognition but it held none. Heat began to flood my face, an anger I felt had long been buried soon welled up my chest. Alas God had placed the enemy right in my own hands, or so I thought. How could she not recognise me, how could she not remember the eyes that shed tears, tears she had caused. As the woman set before me talked on and on about her ordeal and on how badly, she needed the loan, the only picture my mental camera could capture was my last encounter with her.
"Hahaha", she laughed raucously. Wetin you say you wan take? JAMB? Haba! E be like xay dat barber wey barb ur hair, barb ur sense commot with ur hair. Abi U don forget how bloody ur report card dey? Everywhere na red pen". That had been fifteen years ago and I had come to her for Jamb money. I was barely seventeen.
"Mama K," I continued, trying as hard as I could to suppress the ringing sound of her laughter. "I fit do am, I fit pass. I believe in myself, I fit do anything wey I put my mind to". All I dey beg U be xay make U help me beg Papa make im help with the money wey I go use buy the form". Obviously that sounded funny to her that day for she laughed some more, harder than the first time. Then what followed was a loud thud on my head, then blood, then flight.
And then, here she was again, facing me, pleading, begging, appealing for me to be her guarrantor. Part of me wanted to strangle her, to choke her with my bare hands. Where was she when I lived off the streets, where was she when I had to do Oguaja to save up money for my form? Where was she when I had to sleep in classrooms because I couldn't afford a room. But for my campus youth fellowship I would have been long dead, forgotten, not to walk the earth again. Did She care? No! Did my father care? No! Did her children care? No!. Nobody cared. Nobody even gave a damn.
Pain shot through my entire heart. My life had been difficult, even from birth. My mother's death had been accrued to me, my father's failure, to me. And then this woman.
I struggled within. I struggled for air, I struggled for breath, for the room had become uncomfortably hot.
"I'm sorry Ma", I interrupted, cutting her short. " I no fit help you. I can't be your guarantor. I can't put my money into this. I'm really really sorry. You may leave my office now".
She stirred, eyes clouding into a mist. "But Oga"... "Don't Oga me", I cut in. I've heard your plea but like I said I can't help you. With tears streaming down her face, she got up, straightened her wrapper and made for the exit.
"How long would you hold on"?, a voice whispered. Forgive her just as your heavenly father forgives you..."But am not Jesus", I replied, blinking back hot tears. That woman has done really terrible things to me. She's cruel, she's wicked, she's turned my father against me..."Who are you to Judge"?, the voice nudged on. She's a sinner just as you are, for you have deep hate buried within you. Forgive and be free, forgive and release yourself"...
I stood from my Chair. " WAIT! I forgive you"... Turning around, she looked at me with blurry eyes. "Oga U dey talk to me?" she asked..."Yes, I dey talk to you. I bin dey tell U say I don forgive you."... Soon the eyes that held tears turned to shock, fear, and then to panic as she slowly recognised my face. "CLETUS my pikin, E fit be you or abi I dey dream? She had begun to wail; loud, repentful wails. I felt sorry for her. It wasn't really her fault for she had only been a tool in God's hands. But for what had transpired, I wouldn't have sailed against all odds, I wouldn't have become a Managing director and most importantly I wouldn't have found God. As I took long, giant strides toward her, I remembered my favourite verse;FOR A GREAT AND EFFECTUAL DOOR IS OPENED TOWARD YOU and as I released her from my mind, I felt as light as an ncheku seed blown away by the dry harmattan wind...
Running toward her, I hugged my Stepmother...
By O.N

Op, what's this? A story about you or what? I would like to know if more is coming cos I find it interesting

@Harmvirus...no bro its fictional,expect more of this