Please note that this is not a scary story or any random Halloween thing. It’s something personal I wrote as part of my release therapy. I wish I could say “enjoy”, but this isn’t the case. I also won’t be telling anybody about the story behind this. Please understand. Thanks


There is no proper way to start this, and there are no words that would adequately convey my feelings. Yet, I can’t help but try….

I want to tell you that I am sorry, but I will not ask you to forgive me. I have no right to ask anyway; I truly do not think I deserve it. Despite my unworthiness, I am about to ask you a favor, no, plead with you: Do not hate your mother. Please forgive her. Whatever resentment you bear against her shall be mine to endure. She felt that she had no choice. It’s no excuse, but her pain was undeniable for even having to choose. It broke her heart, and broke mine, for we never meant to discard you. Your mother thought she loved me, but I knew better. I never loved her, but I cared deeply for her, and yet, I was willing to marry her just to make it work. I’m sorry to say that she made the decision for all of us…..

You see, I could not forgive myself for how things turned out for her, and knew that I was the source of her pain. She already wasn’t healthy and I was irresponsible…. It’s why I needed her to get better at all costs. I needed her to be able to move on and not drown in her self-loathing, so I paid with the only thing I had left- emotions. When she finally told me about you, I locked my breaking heart, crushed it into the vacuum that was my soul and hid the screams and tears behind clear, white eyes and a pitiless smile. I had to be strong, for both of you, even at the cost of my relationship with her. I made her believe that I didn’t care, so she could hate me. I wanted her to take all that rage, that self-loathing, the deep sorrow and throw it all on me. Hating me was the only way for her to move on- That was the logic my nineteen-year old brain could come up with, given the circumstances. Well, my ploy worked. She hated me alright. Loathed me. Detested me till she was spent.

I believe that if one tells a lie, then he must be ready to maintain that lie to the end, desired or not. If that lie is that important, then he must give his all to that falsehood until it becomes truth. If I was to be the source and focus of her hate, then I would be the devil himself. Even my best friend believed that I didn’t care about her or you. That was when I resided in the hell called loneliness. Eventually, your mother’s hate was spent and she nailed my coffin with a single act: she forgave me. She dated someone else and eventually got married. I’m sure you have siblings now, but they would be your half-brothers and sisters. I would think you’d agree that my disappearance from her life was the best thing for both of us. I would just be a constant reminder of her pain. Please, do not misunderstand, my child; she can never forget you just like I can’t. We murdered you ourselves.

Your mother decided to kill you before I knew about your existence but I should have known. I should have trusted my instincts about her behavior. Someone told me I should be happy at your mother’s “initiative”, while I was battling resentment. Apparently, you’re not supposed to be a big deal. Most people wouldn’t consider you to be a living thing, but you have a soul, my child. You are my child, and you were alive; no law by any organization or government will take that from us. I will never deny your existence.

I was a useless father from your conception to your death. I do not even deserve to be called your father. Yet, this does not stop me from praying for you every night. Thinking about you. Loving you from the day I heard about you till the day I get to see you in the afterlife. If I was to die today, I wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye, for I know I can still be a better man. And I swear, I have not rested in that regard. I still stumble, fall outright, but I promise, I’ll never give up. I will be the best I can be: a son, brother, friend, boyfriend, lover, husband and eventual father that my love ones will be proud of. You are a light in the darkness that is my soul, and I will never forget you my child.

I love you,

(Until I am worthy of being called “Father”) Dayo


9 responses to “Kin

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