MARKED

Mama and Papa are usually be up at 5am to do their chores,while my siblings and I would wait for 6 am for us to be up. It gives me more time to read through my uncle Oto's diary especially during the week days,since he is out in the fields and also to stay as far as I can from the monster that grabs children up when they wake up at 5 am. I know it is a lie and there is no monster,I just love obeying my parents like we are taught in Sunday school. My uncle's diary just happens to be the best thing I have stumbled upon. He talks about his future as it was foretold to him at birth and how he had been in conflict with. I wish I had a way of helping him out.

Despite having his own conflicts,he has always been one person that draws precedence out of all things posteriorly Inclined because he believes in equality. While he is here as on his weekend visits,he never lets the others have two pieces of meat because they are older. He is my favourite.

Let me guide you through his diary. 

He writes;

In my village,the sun rising was always a sign of new hope. So what if it scotched us? That would not be a problem,one who is burned by their own sun gets to fly on scotched wings with pride. As a child I would look at the sun and admire its bravery. It was always there for us but who was there for it? Perhaps Father Clifford was right,above is a deity that is not only a great companion to the sun but also its creator. Moreover,he was right about a great deal of other things. Apart from the sun,the water was also something I admired. It had a way of staying silent but be noticed by everyone around it,it just had a unique way of drawing attention. 

My parents always regarded me as a special child right from birth and so I was called Oto(it meant unique in my father's language). Unlike the other children,I was dedicated to the sun god. It was quite difficult to get along with the other children since they belonged to the white man's religion while I was a proclaimed and bound worshipper of the sun as per instruction.

The more I grew up,the more the conflict grew between who I wanted to be and who I was told I was going to be. I would find myself listening to Father Clifford's sermons and getting to love every bit of the God he worshipped. In comparison to the sun god,he did not sacrifice his own people for his legacy. He also never regarded one in order of their precedence but viewed everyone as equals. Now that's who I would want to serve if I had a choice.

I remember going to my favorite spot everyday,a lake that was just a few feet away from our tiny hut just to look at the water and think of how unlucky I was. Every minute my foretold future made less sense and my unbelief grew stronger. They said one who was a sun worshiper could speak to the sun, move waters and command the earth to either rot or produce if they were marked. Apparently I was marked and I was approaching the right age for that.

At dawn my mother would call For dinner and I would run to her with my torn shorts,I never really cared what I wore back then. Dinner was always tasty as usual, bush meat mixed a bit of okra-that was mum's specialty. We had the same white cloth around the table that had seemed to have turned to half yellow or mid brown over the years and some candles to light up our little hut. I was the happiest at these times. Then after the meal,do the dishes in a calabash outside and go to sleep.

Things got different by the day,I had to hear my parents argue over who I was going to be. Father would always say his family all worshiped the sun while mother would stick to the fact that times had changed and we needed to adapt to changes. I agreed with mother well because I loved Father Clifford's God.

It is two months now before the day of the marked. I keep wishing my desire to be what I was told I would be changes. I'd hate to let my parents down. There's a saying that goes,"life is a balance of holding on and letting go." At this point,the battle remains on what to let go of and what to hold on to. I keep hoping for a way out of this bottomless pit. Sometimes it feels like I was just brought to this earth to suffer. Yes it has gotten to that point.

I Wonder how it feels like to have a free mind and create your own future. Maybe if I weren't black or if I wasn't born I wouldn't have to go through this. As the days go by I feel separated from the rest of the world and my dreams seem to vanish right before my eyes even when they are closed. When does this ever end?does the word free even exist in my mind?

The cock has crowed,that must be 6 am . we ought to be up. This diary is closed but not in my mind,maybe taking a 2 minute nap won't hurt. No I have to get up , the naps might not hurt but Mama's strokes surely hurt. They make one wonder if truly you were her child. Sometimes I wish my birth was foretold too,only the strokes part though. I would definitely love to know when mum's going to strike so I would dodge her beatings and also when she is going to give me her long lectures because I have honestly heard them all.

Just kidding,I wouldn't want to know anything about the future,I prefer to go along with everything that life brings. I would hate to be at conflict with my mind like my uncle. Oh poor uncle Oto,I hope his life turns out to be what he hopes.