Life is How You Make It Episode 1

Jones Kwesi Tagbor

The writer of

Life on campus 

My first day @school

And

My mysterious journey through life is here again with
Life is How You Make It 
Episode 1
I can still remember those good old days. That togetherness, the mutual respect, that impersonal community life, not to even talk of that common goal we all seek to accomplish in those days. What do we see now? Everybody for him/herself and God for us all. Tonnies expressed concern and dissatisfaction with changes in these social structures. He said the sense of community in the villages and towns was being superseded by the impersonal city activities. That supportive interdependence and mutual responsibility of village and town life were lost to the highly differentiated and individualistic nature of large scaled structures of city life. You may be wondering why am saying all these,huh? I wished time never changed and we should still remain in those days. My parents gave birth to just the two of us. I happened to be the first of all females. But unfortunately I lost my junior sister due to sickness. My sister shouldn’t have died before but because there was no one to take the responsibility of paying for her hospital bills, she has to die at a tender age of ten. My father also left my mother in the exact peak of the hardship. According to my daddy, he could no longer take care of us because he lost his job due to a theft case which later became so clear that he had no hand in it, but being the chief security by then, he had to sacrifice his job(our only source of income). Actually my sister died two years after he left us. He woke up one morning and said he was going to visit a “God knows friend at a God knows place”. We expected him to return after some days, but days turned to weeks, weeks to months, and months to years. The next thing we heard was that he’s found a new woman and have settled down with her. Anyway as I always do say, God knows best. My name is Mawufemor meaning ‘Godsway’. Many call me ‘Caput ‘ due to my height. Despite the fact I wasn’t that tall, I was the target of most young men in our community. To say I wasn’t BEAUTIFUL will be the greatest understatements someone would have ever made in centuries. I’m just a direct replica of my mother. Black beauty, with a round body, and hugely endowed both front and back. Salt does not praise itself so let me leave the rest for you to do. After all beauty they say lies in the eyes of the beholder. Life was very interesting at the time my family was intact. My daddy would carry me at the bark of his bicycle to school before leaving for work and will come for me when we closed. I was 16years old and in JSS but my father still do carry me to school. I attended Nipahiamoa LA basic. On Saturdays, my father would join his friends in the community either to do a general community work or work on a group member’s farm. Myself, my late sister together with my mom would tidy up in and around our compound. We lived in a small community called Nipahiamoa(Man Needs Help). This name according to history came up when the chief and elders of the community realized they could only develop as a town if only they support each other in diverse ways hence the name ‘Nipahiamoa’ which literally means man needs help. Mr Mensah was a family friend who used to visit us very frequently. His son Datsomor proposed to me but I didn’t accept it. Not knowing Mr Mensah has been proposing love to my mother anytime my daddy was not around. This man never had any good manners to know that my mother was in her matrimonial home. I was sixteen years old by then so I began to notice his actions. One day when my father went to help his people to work on a friend’s farm, Mr Mensah came around again and started harassing my mother sexually. I got upset and told him I would report him to my father when he returns from the farm. On the defense, he said it was rather my mother who had shown interest in him(projection) so out of anger, my mother threw a halfway bucket filled with hot water which she had boiled to bath on Mr. Mensah. I knew my mother did that out of annoyance. This man actually got burned in his face. I also pushed him out of the house. The whole community heard what went on. He then cursed my mother by saying she would suffer in her life before dying. My friend, never let any negative thing said about you eat you up. Rather pray to God to give you strength to do exploit to shame your enemy. Note that they don’t control your life but God. The unfortunate thing was that my mother took what Mr Mensah said seriously and with immediate effect it started to manifest. Just some few months after that incident, my father lost his job as a chief security man in the organization he was working with. He also had some issue with his friends in the community so he also stopped going to do the community work. Life became somewhat miserable for us. My late sister by name Delali was seven years old by then. She became sick and no one could identify what exactly was wrong with her. All my father believed in was that there was a God but doesn’t belong to any specific religion. We the children and our mother do attend Musama Disco Christo church. Besides, that was the only church in the community by then. After a year of my daddy’s unemployment, our source of living was the petty trade my mother was doing in addition to the small farm my father has. The painful aspect was that my daddy went to farm one day and on his return was bitten by a rattle snake. Luckily for him, some other farmers rescued him if not the snake would have killed him. Delali was also in her sick bed. Now my mother used all she had including the capital of her business to treat both dad and Delali. After my daddy regained his strength, he woke up one day and told us he wanted to check on a friend but earlier in the previous evening he said he was not happy that it was my mother who was now the bread winner of the house. He left the house that morning and never returned. A month later a church member said he saw him working as a driver’s mate at Kamasi. That brought us some sort of relief because we thougt something had happened to him. We were happy he was alive. Delali’s sickness became worse two years after he left us so eventually she died. Not knowing, Mr Mensah was the chief architect behind all these. He actually came to plant something at the back of our house one night after that initial incident without our knowledge. Posterity they say would judge us all. Why should God allow all these to happen to us? I asked myself. Life was more than hell for us. My daddy was gone and now my only sister has also followed. Hmmm, it wasn’t an easy journey for us at all. I had to stop schooling since there was no one to help me.

Will Mr Mensah go unscathed? Let’s go to the next episode. This is just the beginning. Just relax and enjoy the rest of the story.
Episode 2 loading……

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