A Collection of Short Stories

Miracle Adebayo
Birthright
***
“It is as it has always been. He is the excellency of honor, the excellency of strength.
The first born son is no mere issue.”
***
Loss has a way of eliciting flashbacks. Of memories we’d rather be rid of.
Daddy’s death did that to me. I always thought he would be around until he was
old and senile, weary of this side of eternity. His death, much like his life, had been tedious.
A heart attack. Mommy called me, distraught and inarticulate. I would not travel to Abuja
that day, although I knew she needed me. I just wasn’t ready to admit what massive blow
Daddy’s demise had dealt me.
In life, you might find yourself in the sore plight of that one parent you could never please.
The one you strived to impress all your life, but somehow never made good. Yes, there
may be accomplishments you are mighty proud of, but all of which means nothing to that
parent. For me, that parent was Daddy. It mattered little that I was his spitting image, having
inherited his eyes, adroit limbs and sturdy frame. Oft times growing up when I caught him
looking at me, his gaze was a third part longing, a third part disappointment. Those were
the parts I knew.
When I eventually cried, it was not because I missed him. I wept because I’d never
impressed him, not with my academic degrees nor my relatively decent job.
***
I shall not bear the derision to my grave. You ought to know. And here is why.
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