Help me! My head aches; but it’s not just because of the bandage that is tightly wrapped round my head. It is more because of the revelation that crowds my mind, worsened by my drunken performance last night.

Last night was terrible, so terrible I wish I never returned from my week long trip.

As I turned off my car engine, I heaved a sigh of relief. Finally, my long trip to dad’s factory was over. At such a time, I was usually glad, that my parents named me UZOMA, because in agreement with the meaning of my name, the road has always been good to me.

Pim, pim, came the sound from my alarm, interrupting my moment: reminding me that it’s 8pm, time to join the family dinner, or cap the night with just bread and butter.

Quickly, I picked up my travel case, and headed for the front door.

The moment I had one foot into the house, I heard voices coming from the sitting room.

A peep through the door on my right revealed that my parents were in a meeting. Wit who? My goodness, my parents were in a meeting with Mrs. Ndu: Rita’s mom: the same Rita who is carrying my baby, Rita, my one and only love.

I hoped she didn’t come to tell them about Rita’s pregnancy. Oh no, I wanted to tell my parents myself. I planned to tell them as soon as I returned from this journey. Why was Rita’s mom there?

I had just one option: to eves drop. I knew I probably looked stupid: eves dropping, but I had no other option.

Then I heard it, Mrs. Ndu was sobbing. “You have to help me convince him, he needs to understand that when I abandoned him on the streets all those years, I was in a desperate situation.”

I wondered who she was referring to, Rita has no brother.

That was when I heard my mom’s soothing reply to Rita’s mom. “Listen, you have to be strong now, fate already made him your daughter’s friend, so accepting you as his mother will not be difficult.”

Daughter’s friend? I am Rita’s only male friend. What was that?

Is that why my parents named me Uzoma, did I have anything to do with being found on the street? Am I an abandoned baby? Is my sister pregnant for me?

With so much to think through, I walked up to my room on auto pilot.

Ones I entered my room, my phone began to ring. Rita was calling.

Until last night, her calls made me smile, but right then, her call was tearing me apart.

This had to stop: I needed to do something, and I knew exactly what to do. “I will take a glass of brandy for each minute that Rita’s call remained unanswered.”

Oh I should have known she would be persistent. She rang me over and over again until three bottles of brandy were emptied into my stomach.

Then I graduated from drinking to smashing. I smashed everything I could lift. First I smashed the bottles of brandy one after the other, then I smashed my bedside lamp, then my dressing mirror, then my room window, my wall robe door and finally, my head.

Help me! My head aches; but it’s not just because of the bandage that is tightly wrapped round my head. It is more because of the revelation that crowds my mind, worsened by my drunken performance last night.

Last night was terrible, so terrible I wish I never returned from my week long trip.

As I turned off my car engine, I heaved a sigh of relief. Finally, my long trip to dad’s factory was over. At such a time, I was usually glad, that my parents named me UZOMA, because in agreement with the meaning of my name, the road has always been good to me.

Pim, pim, came the sound from my alarm, interrupting my moment: reminding me that it’s 8pm, time to join the family dinner, or cap the night with just bread and butter.

Quickly, I picked up my travel case, and headed for the front door.

The moment I had one foot into the house, I heard voices coming from the sitting room.

A peep through the door on my right revealed that my parents were in a meeting. Wit who? My goodness, my parents were in a meeting with Mrs. Ndu: Rita’s mom: the same Rita who is carrying my baby, Rita, my one and only love.

I hoped she didn’t come to tell them about Rita’s pregnancy. Oh no, I wanted to tell my parents myself. I planned to tell them as soon as I returned from this journey. Why was Rita’s mom there?

I had just one option: to eves drop. I knew I probably looked stupid: eves dropping, but I had no other option.

Then I heard it, Mrs. Ndu was sobbing. “You have to help me convince him, he needs to understand that when I abandoned him on the streets all those years, I was in a desperate situation.”

I wondered who she was referring to, Rita has no brother.

That was when I heard my mom’s soothing reply to Rita’s mom. “Listen, you have to be strong now, fate already made him your daughter’s friend, so accepting you as his mother will not be difficult.”

Daughter’s friend? I am Rita’s only male friend. What was that?

Is that why my parents named me Uzoma, did I have anything to do with being found on the street? Am I an abandoned baby? Is my sister pregnant for me?

With so much to think through, I walked up to my room on auto pilot.

Ones I entered my room, my phone began to ring. Rita was calling.

Until last night, her calls made me smile, but right then, her call was tearing me apart.

This had to stop: I needed to do something, and I knew exactly what to do. “I will take a glass of brandy for each minute that Rita’s call remained unanswered.”

Oh I should have known she would be persistent. She rang me over and over again until three bottles of brandy were emptied into my stomach.

Then I graduated from drinking to smashing. I smashed everything I could lift. First I smashed the bottles of brandy one after the other, then I smashed my bedside lamp, then my dressing mirror, then my room window, my wall robe door and finally, my head.

Am sex, am a world of pleasure

Over use paints me as sin

Am food, am health to the body

Gluttony paints me as a foe

Am beverage, am refreshment defined

Low self-esteem paints me as disgraceful

Am gambling, am a lunch pad for risk takers

Blind pursuits paint me as a hangman’s noose

Am drugs, I repair cells and tissues

Cravings paint me as a drowning force

Am games, I program minds for success

Lazy minds paint me as a fool’s paradise

Am calculation, I balance the puzzles of life

Over indulgence paints me as bomb to the brain

Am arts, I give the world a touch of glamour

Addicts paint me as a drain on life and reality

Am sex, am a world of pleasure

Over use paints me as sin

Am food, am health to the body

Gluttony paints me as a foe

Am beverage, am refreshment defined

Low self-esteem paints me as disgraceful

Am gambling, am a lunch pad for risk takers

Blind pursuits paint me as a hangman’s noose

Am drugs, I repair cells and tissues

Cravings paint me as a drowning force

Am games, I program minds for success

Lazy minds paint me as a fool’s paradise

Am calculation, I balance the puzzles of life

Over indulgence paints me as bomb to the brain

Am arts, I give the world a touch of glamour

Addicts paint me as a drain on life and reality