My childhood period was heaven on earth. I lacked nothing because my parents were always there for me. In fact, I was born with a golden spoon in my mouth.

I remember during my primary school days, my birthdays never skipped the memories of my parents. Being the only child, life was tasty like “aluguntugui” (soursop). In spite of coming from a rich home, I had so much sympathy for the needy. At times, I shared my food, clothes and, shoes with my two best friends. These two were like my brothers. Coming from poor backgrounds, they never allowed their vulnerability to overcome their academic lives.

My dad was a tall lanky man with cute eyes and a pointed nose. Though loving, he made sure my studies became my topmost priority. He never relented on his promise to get me novels whenever I excelled academically in primary school.

The only time he spanked me was when I failed to do my school assignments and clandestinely kept my book under the carpet of my bedroom. He found out when he went on a routine inspection to my room to check whether everything had been put in order. After spanking me, he pampered and advised me to desist from such acts in future.

My mum was a woman of virtue. She always made sure I read my Bible every morning before going to school. She never exempted me from household chores despite the fact that we had three housemaids. Initially, I thought she was being hard on me but I later realized that she was preparing me to face life squarely. He made me sweep, scrub and wash.

Life was rosy until the unexpected happened when I got to the Junior high school as a boarder.

I was in class studying one day when news got to me that I was needed at the headmaster’s office. My heart skipped a beat. I had engaged in a scuffle with one of my seniors so I thought that accounted for my invitation to the office. I therefore, heaved a sigh of relief when I deduced from the headmaster’s mood that I was not in danger as expected.

He rather looked a bit pensive. He asked me to go home and that my parents wanted to see me. I was a bit surprised because such an incident had never happened before. My parents would always come to the school or wait till closing whenever they want to see me. With clouds of confusion in my brain, I decided to take an exeat and honor the call of my parents. As I sat in the moving vehicle, my mind was not at rest. I wished the car could develop some wings to fly so that I would get home early.

I arrived home within an hour. I saw some known and unknown family members clad in black, their faces indicating sorrow. The whole atmosphere was a fog of melancholy. Arriving at where they were seated, I greeted them but the responses were not that impressive. I gathered the courage to ask of the happenings but they all refused to talk to me. I walked past the man and headed towards the kitchen only to discover Ama Arhinma Ansah, the 40-year-old maid who had been with my parents for many years, weeping uncontrollably. As soon as she saw me, she ran towards me and gave me a hug. I was confused.

Having dried her tears, she told me that my parents were attacked, shot and killed by armed robbers when my mum was being dropped off at the airport. Immediately the news hit my eardrums, I found myself in a weird world. In the world of wonders where snakes were walking whiles lions crawled on the floor, an Imam leading praises and worship and a pastor leading Muslims to pray. Trees were talking and singing whiles lepers were busily weeding.

I woke up in a hospital bed with a slight headache. I saw Ama Ansah at my bedside who told me I had been in coma for an entire week. I inquired from her on how I got to the hospital but she refused to tell me but promised to tell me when we arrived home. I was discharged three days after. Meanwhile, she gave me a just of my parent’s death and made me aware that there were more serious things to know about myself.

Thinking I was being taken to the house I knew, I found myself in a wooden structure. I became puzzled. At first, I didn’t want to enter but Ama promised to explain things to me once I got inside.

The whole room looked awkward. No electricity, no television, not even a radio. I could only find a student’s mattress and a “Ghana must go bag.” As I sat down reluctantly, she began to explain things tome.”

“Jérémie Kwame Dzimeyor, there is something that you need to know,” said Ama. “But first of all, you must take heart.” she continued.

She then gave me the darkest secret of my life. A secret that changed my entire life from hero to zero and from grace to grass.



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Comments to: Tears in the Dark
  • April 15, 2020

    Nice story and very touching…please when are you posting the rest…keep it up

    • April 16, 2020

      The part two has been posted. Thanks

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