By Toyinbo Olumide

At one, he was backed by his Mother like a conventional African woman and not like Kangaroo, seemingly the latest trend moving around just like flu epidemic.

At ten, Mother no more backed him; he now backed his bag to school.

He ran to the school next-door hopping like a gay rabbit, his basket occupied by a water-bottle and a food-cooler filled with more than enough food prepared by his over-caring Mother.

For him at that time, learning with sufficient food was fun just like hopping to school.

At twenty-five, he no more backed his bag to school; he now backed life, carrying his credentials-filled briefcase down the street.

Searching for job?

Mother was getting tired of sending almost half of her hard-earned money to a man with first degree, second degree…

What can he do after doing all those dos?

What else can be done?

He has been the best ever since basics till tertiary.

Like forever moments after tertiary, the best did not want to be his.

At thirty, he now backed more responsibilities; life became too weighty to be backed.

Mother was aging; she could no longer do all those odd jobs to make ends meet.

It was his turn to back her just like she has done.

With a round-the-clock job that couldn’t cater for up to half-the-clock expenses

Mother prayed for him before she kicked the bucket.

He wept till he ran out of tears.

Time whiled away, nothing improved.

He took a rope, trekked far from the livings to find a tree and put an end to his chaotic life.

He met a saviour who facilitated a rethink.

He ran back home soberly.

Two days after, fine job with fine salary came, fine life followed.

Hope resides in life body and not a lifeless one.


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