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šŸ•ÆļøThe Day My Father Died But Didn’tā€ — A Tragicomedy of Inheritance and Indomie

Literature 122 days ago Participants (1)
  • Linksmarx

    I got a call one afternoon:

    "Your father is dead."

    I paused.Ā Tears gathered like unpaid loans.

    My mind wandered to his last words:

    "Don’t touch my generator when I’m gone."

    He was gone now. The generator hummed louder.

    I travelled 7 hours in a rickety bus filled with chickens and a preacher who prophesied my "financial breakthrough" —

    All I had was N700.

    At the family compound, everyone wore black.

    Wailing. Drama. Even people I hadn't seen since 2003 were crying louder than his real children.

    Then, like a Nollywood twist…

    He walked in.Ā Alive.Ā Breathing.Ā Holding bread and La Casera.

    Turns out:Ā He only switched off his phone for 3 days to rest.

    My uncle thought that meant transition.

    Now, I’m trending in the village WhatsApp group as ā€œthe prodigal son who came back with Indomie and onions.ā€

    He made me return it.

    "You think I died and carried hunger?" he said.

    Death didn’t come that day;Ā But embarrassment surely did.

    šŸ’”šŸ˜‚

    #Tragicomedy #RealLifeDrama #AfricanDadChronicles #ViralStory #LaughterThroughTears #KonnectStories

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