By: Karo Oforofuo
It was a monday morning and although I still felt like sleeping, I counldn't. I grumbled as mummy pulled me up and dragged me all the way to the sitting room, where my father and brothers were already seated for morning prayers.
That morning, daddy preached about love, about doing everything with love. He told us that he was sick and tired of the way we fought each other at the slightest provocation. He told us that if we loved ourselves, we wouldn't be at each other's throat all the time. Aside from that, he stressed that quarreling always brought bad luck. If we wanted to do something and we were angry or quarreling with another person, our energies become scattered and what we planned to do would fail. He asked us to maintain harmony amongst ourselves and also to keep quarrel and fighting at bay. If we loved each other, bad things wouldn't happen to us, but if we didn't, then certainly, a lot of bad things will be happy to come our way.
Daddy talked on and on but, I wasn't interested in what he was saying. In fact, I wasn't in the mood for his preaching. At that moment, I was deprived of sleep and I was very angry. Anyone who stepped on my toes, was stepping on a bomb. After prayers that morning, we went about our chores and then started preparing for school. I was in senior secondary one and so was my kid brother. I was still angry that morning due to not having enough sleep, so when my kid brother did something to annoy me, I reacted.
"What is wrong with you? idiot!"
"Do you see your life?" He said, making a funny face." Daddy just finished preaching about maintaining harmony and you are already behaving like a toad."
"What?" I asked, angry. At that point I almost smacked the handsome out of his face, but instead of resulting to physical violence, I used my mouth. I rained abuses on him, so much so that my mum had to warn me to stop, or receive some strokes of the cane. I quickly kept quiet and went into the kitchen to get hot water. While others boiled their bath water with the kettle, I was too impatient and boiled mine with a pot. I was still angry as I lifted the pot from the fire, but when I turned to pour the water in my bucket, it happened. The pot turned towards me instead and its entire content poured on my right thigh. I screamed my heart out and everyone had to come see what had happened. Unfortunately for me, I wore a tight short that morning. By the time they managed to pull the short from my waist and off my thighs, it took a large chunk of my skin along with it.
I wasn't able to go to school for two weeks because I couldn't wear my Uniform, neither could I really wear other clothes. My friends from school came to see me that afternoon, after school hours. When they asked what happened? I simply told them how I chose to be angry.
Years have gone by. I'm now a grown woman in my late twenties and I still have the scar, on my right thigh. Fortunately, it reminds me that when I love, I wouldn't get angry and when I'm not angry, I wouldn't do things the wrong way and hurt myself in the process. It was a childhood lesson that I will never forget.