The names used throughout this piece are random. Real names are hidden on request. If the names used to happen to relate to any personal experience you know or heard of, know it is a total coincidence.
ArewaDiaries – How Parenting Cost Me a Brother
My name is Nusaiba and I’m child number 2 of 3 children (Faheem, myself, & our last born) of Mr. & Mrs Abdulkareem
It’s safe to say the love we received from our parents while growing up was the greatest any parent could give a child – we lacked nothing
I was in ss1 in when ya Faheem got admitted into Federal Polytechnic, Mubi after trying to get into ABU Zaria twice to no avail. Being the first child of the family, ya Faheem was loved more than anyone and his needs were always put before anyone else’s
If you wanted to see the bad side of my father, all you had to do was make ya Faheem uncomfortable or make him cry.
Before leaving Zaria for Yola, my father bought a car and rented an apartment three years in advance for Faheem.
Ya Faheem was giving that car on condition that he gets, maintains, and graduates with at least a Second class Upper or else he’ll be relocated to the students’ hostel which he hated so much and all of his favourite son privileges will be seized but then he hated so many things and studying was one of them. he went to Fed polytechnic, Mubi to study biology in grand style.
Faheem met a lady one year into the polytechnic and fell in love with her (or so he thought) & everyone at home knew about her, he took advantage of every opportunity to talk about Safeenah to anyone that cared to listen & our parents weren’t an exception.
In his third trimester in the polytechnic, Safeenah’s parents died in a ghastly motor accident and safeenah’s uncle married her off to the first suitor that showed interest afterwards and that was when hell was let loose.
Ya Faheem wanted badly to defer a session and return home to – in his words – ‘heal’ but my parents won’t let him. They said he had to face the fact that you can’t get everything you want in life like a man when they knew more than anyone else that they never taught him to accept that there are things in life you just can’t get. I don’t mean to sound judgmental of my parents but they never taught him b4 then that he could want a thing & not get it in life.
Ya Faheem went back, & became a ghost of himself; he made intoxicants his life support & rid himself of anyone who advised him against them. Ya Faheem’s demand for money from our father increased to its maximum and it didn’t take dad too long to find out from his contacts on campus what Faheem was up to and so he seized Faheem’s car.
Faheem became entirely different; he kept bad company, played around with girls, smoked and did all sorts of bad thing on and off-campus. Naturally, our parents thought he was going through a hard heartbreak phase that would pass with time and so after his car was ceased nothing else was done to curb his little ‘fit’. His newfound life soon ate into his grades.
Dad was ready to forgive all excesses until news reached us about his involvement in a robbery attack that took place somewhere in told. The police were looking 4 him, dad went over d wall with rage. Faheem, after running for months, later came home but my dad won’t have him.
Father told him to go and fix the mess he has made of his life before coming back home and sent him away. My mother, of course, won’t have any of it, she still believed something could be done to salvage her child.
My father couldn’t believe that his favourite son has thrown the golden life he practically built & handed over to him away just like that.
Ya Faheem went back to his life of weed, drinking, clubbing, and frolicking with stolen money since his source of money had cut him off. A week didn’t pass without news of Faheem being involved in one mishap or another.
My mother always had her ears to d ground waiting to hear news of his whereabouts so she can take some money & ‘home-cooked’ meal to him.
She one time tried convincing him to come home with her(as usual), he & his so-called friends beat her to a pulp & vacated the building. Mum was later brought home by a group of good Samaritans..
Last we heard abt ya Faheem was that someone saw him by the roadside in Yobe state looking malnourished in tattered clothes.
You all might wonder why I chose to share this story seeing that Faheem’s situation has not yet been remedied and as such there’s little or nothing to learn from his story but what if…
What if Faheem was allowed to live his age & grow instead of being sent off like an adult with everything already made 4 him?
What if our father had treated Faheem as any other parent would treat their child (showing love and scolding duly)?
What if even though our parents could give him anything – they let him go without some things just to prepare him for uncertainties?
ArewaDiaries – How Parenting Cost Me a Brother