Hi! This is the last segment of our short story serial. To fully enjoy the story, be sure to read the previous segments.
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No more delay. Let’s find out the resolution and see whether it agrees with what we thought it would be.
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TALKING TO MY IMAGINARY REAL FRIEND #5
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Three years later
It’s been three years since I wrote this story last. I’m really sorry for not writing regularly but so much was happening and I wanted to see how things turn out before telling you more. The last part I told you was that my dad left.
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Mum wont say why but from bits and pieces I gathered here and there, turns out my mum was cheating on my dad and was taking pills so she will not get pregnant. My dad found the pills by accident and confronted her on the day I badged in on them at the side porch. She confessed that she was seeing her boss so she won’t be fired because the company was downsizing.
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Why did she do it? She said she didn’t want me to move from the international school I was attending or for us to live outside the GRA.* Bad deal. She was sacked from her job anyway. I could see why she was worried, though. My school fees are like ten times what Tamuno’s father pays for him and he too goes to a private school. (Sorry, I forgot to tell you my cousin, Tamuno, came to live with us as planned.)
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What my mum didn’t know was that as the best student in Primary 1, I would get a scholarship that will last till I finish primary school, and we didn’t move because my dad was buying the house from the government little by little (stallment payment*, something like that – point is the house is ours), just that he didn’t tell her yet.
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But she really needed the break. Helped her to rearrange her life in so many areas. For instance, she started going to church with me and gave her life to Christ. Then she preached to me and Tamuno and we did the same. We were baptized together – three months after my dad left.
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We began to pray and read the Bible together and we always reminded God that He said my dad will only be gone for a while. Actually, we thought that meant a few days or weeks but as the weeks turned into months and all we got was a monthly deposit into Mum’s account, I began to wonder if he would still return. But my mum never stopped believing, she never stopped hoping. Meanwhile, she went back to school, got a Masters degree and a better job.
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Then out of nowhere, two years, eight months and twelve days after he left (Mum was counting!), he called and asked how we were. From the number, he was abroad. He had been sent by his company for training in the UK. The call lasted less than a minute but my mum was crying and laughing when he hung up.
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Three weeks later, he called again and from then, they (actually we) chatted regularly. He said he was due back in Nigeria soon. And a week before my ninth birthday, he returned. He came straight home with an airport taxi.
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The icing on the cake was that Dad had started attending church in the UK and surrendered his life to Jesus. He said he felt that if God could forgive a sinner like him, he should also forgive his wife. That was why he made that first call. He kept it a secret hoping to preach to us when he returns to Nigeria …. How awesome! How totally amazing!

So now that I am grown up (all of nine years!), born again and with my family together again, thanks to countless episodes of talking to God and Him talking back to us, I beg to withdraw my earlier statement that God is like Junior’s imaginary friend.
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Junior has outgrown his imaginary friend, but as for me and God, we’re still tight pals. I talk to Him about everything. But best of all, He talks back to me and I can count on what He says. You see, it’s not just in my mind alone these days because I read my Bible everyday and use it to verify whatever I think I’m hearing from Him.
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By the way, there was something that I was supposed to ask for when the time is right. I think that this is the time we’ve been waiting for.
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“Dear God, you can release my baby brother or sister now.”
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I’m sure that’s a prayer my mum will say a big “Amen” to. And with it, we come to the end of my story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as I did telling it. Adieu! (Learnt that from my French class.) Seriously, ciao! (Did you know that’s Italian?) You don’t need this language class. So as they sang in “Sound of Music,” Gooooood Byyyyeeeeee!!!
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-The end-
Ⓒ Edith Ugochi Ohaja 2016
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GRA stands for Government Reserved Area (choice real estate)
*stallment is a corruption of installmental
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Wow! I have a confession to make. When I wrote this story, I titled it “Talking to God” but I felt some folks might think it’s some religious crap and not give it a chance. So I coined the present title. Which of these titles do you prefer? And what were the things that touched you in the story as a whole?
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