I don’t want a father
Story By Thiyam Ningol, Africa

*

“ Dak-dhak, dak-dhak” her heart was pounding.

For the first time after 22 years she was going to meet her father. Her hands were trembling. She was giggling to herself like a small child. Shining sweat beads were lining up on her forehead. Her 4 year old daughter noticed something was wrong with her mother. She had asked several times
-Mummy, are you sick? The little girls’ questions were ignored, instead she was spanked.

She had never met her father in her life. She was told story after story about her fathers’ disappearance, none of the stories were even close to the real truth. One thing was for certain- no scientific laboratory testing was needed to confirm their identity. The similarity was striking.

Her distant relatives had managed for the father and daughter to meet at long last. The relatives had to hunt her father down, and they succeeded. They found him and brought him to her.

She had told her little daughter
“Very soon you are going to meet your grandfather, my father” and she giggled with excitement.

“What about my father? Will I get my father also?” Maria did not anticipate this question at that moment. She did not have time to think about her daughters’ father.

“I am your mother, which means I am bigger than you. Big people get the things first and then the smaller people get. You will get your father later.”

The answer was very logical to little Cathy. She prayed her grandfather to appear soon so that her turn for having a father came sooner as well.

Maria saw her relative coming with a young man. Just one glance at him was enough to confirm who was approaching. She could not wait for the formal introduction. She greeted him in the traditional manner, kneeling and bowing her head.

“Hello” was all what she heard. She looked up at him expecting more. No more words followed. The stony face turned away. Cathy who was holding her mothers hand froze. She was trying to say something to the new grandfather. No words came out. Maria pulled her daughter down signaling her to kneel and bow. A muffled voice was emitted, not audible to the strange grandfather.

Maria consoled herself thinking “He must be tired from the journey. We have all the long days ahead to catch up.” She served her father the dinner she prepared with all enthusiasm and all the love she could imagine of.

The food was consumed in a still atmosphere. Everybody noticed the reaction from Peter towards his daughter and grandchild.

At night when she went to sleep, Maria wept silently.

The next day, and the day after that and all the following days, the still atmosphere lingered in the house. The pleasing, sweet childish laughter sound of Cathy had vanished. Angry exchange of harsh words between father and daughter followed. Once/twice Cathy saw her grand father pulling her mothers hair.

Peter scolded Maria for getting a child without a father in her young age.

“Where were you to teach me manners and give me that advise when I was growing up in the streets? At least Cathy has me.”

That spark grew to be a fire in the house. It burnt the dream of father and daughter reunion to ashes. The love which never existed was extinct forever. Hatred engulfed their minds and soul.

Little Cathy consoled her mother
“Mummy, don’t cry; I don’t want a father anymore.”