I remember our son, David. He would have been 18 years old today.
But you see, we lost David due to his father’s negligence. It’s the reason I moved out of the house with the rest of our children. It’s also the reason I am sort a divorce and it’s the reason I chose to come back to live in Lagos.
My husband and I, my former husband and I, were blessed with four children; two boys and two girls.
David was a star! He was the most intelligent of all my children, though I never said this to them. I am their mother, after all.
David was also the most compassionate. At a very early age, he seemed to want to do things beyond his age. It was as though he was in a hurry to get done with life. He started school at just 1year 2 months. Why? He was already reciting the numbers 1 to 20 and alphabets A-Z!
There was no point keeping him home especially as both myself and my husband were working at the University at the time he was born and we had no nanny, though my mother- in- law was staying with us at that time but it was easier to drop David at the nursery arm of the school run by the university; while his older siblings attended primary classes all situated on campus.
Ok, let me explain well. We lived in the north, I met my ex at the University as undergrads. We served in Bauchi but my ex was called back to lecture at the university. He was a 2.1 material, so when they gave him a job and a flat, there was nothing to wait for but take it. I later got a job in the administrative section of the university and that’s how we began a family.
So, being an academic, my ex was mostly away for one academic pursuit of another. After his Masters at the university; he asked to go do his Ph.D. at another university in the south and he was granted sabbatical.
In all of these, I supported him. He was the kind of father who paid his children’s fees and made sure there was food on the table. He came home as often as he was able to.
On one of those days that he came home, he took the children out that evening. There were just two of them at home, David and Samuel. Their older ones were in boarding school. I was unable to go because I went to braid my hair and you know how long braiding takes. It was a Sunday. I was told the children were fighting to sit in front of the car beside their dad.
Now, this usually happens when I am not riding with them. I never allow any child to sit in front. Those who said underage children shouldn’t sit in front know what they are saying and no matter how much we love our children, putting them in the front seat and not buckling up is foolishness of the highest order.
Before then, too, I had fought with my husband over this matter of children sitting in the front seat. ‘Don’t let anyone sit in front, they should be seated at the back and strapped.’
‘What kind of danger can they be in this quiet town?’ He always asked.
We lived in Zaria at that time.
‘What kind of father do you take me for, with my kids in the car!’ He would shut me up many times.
‘Ok, maybe you won’t be speeding, what of the other reckless driver coming on the opposite side, can you vouch for him? Can you vouch for his sanity?’ I would always argue back.
Many times he would scoff and make fun of me, sometimes saying I was afraid of my own shadow.
That Sunday I wasn’t home, so when they were going out, he let David, who at that time was just 9 years old sit in the passenger seat.
There was an accident and up till today, I don’t know the facts because my ex has been lying about it.
What I know is that David was sitting in front, no seat belt, (my ex claimed he was strapped but it’s a lie.)
An oncoming trailer lost control and there was a head-on collision. My boy was thrown out of the car, head first, through the windshield and landed on the road!
He didn’t make it. He was a baby; he was just 9 years old; he had a full life ahead of him. His younger brother, Samuel wasn’t killed, thankfully but he had a head wound, too and his right arm was broken, he was in POP for months.
My ex? Not a scratch on his body!
I was called to the hospital. I was taken to see what a mother should never see. The mangled remains of her beloved son, the other son unconscious.
I haven’t been able to un-see what I saw that day. I haven’t been able to forgive their father. I don’t even want to try. I just wanted him out of our lives for good after it happened and nine years later I still want him out.
(series written and edited by Peju Akande and based on true stories)
