My freedom

 'My freedom' by Omeje, Arinze chibuikem

I was practically imprisoned for seventeen years; imprisonment may literally mean putting some one in a jail but practically it entails any form of restriction to implementation of ones will. Growing up as a young kid, I was deprived of a lot privileges, my will all times die within my premature mind where it is conceived. My choice was irrelevant and all times influenced. The most depressing was the inscription made on the linings of the walls of my subconscious mind that I can't pay visit to my friends at will else a written or verbal application was made and approved by the most supreme authority. If my wishes were horses, I would prefer to be raised in the Americas or London. Over there, a child's freedom of expression of will was implemented. I was not comfortable with the prison I call home and the prison warder I call my father. Obviously, I grew to question the statuesque. I contended with the existing authority . Each time I rebelled, I get subdued and left with excruciating memory. I believed that no one knows the best thing for me except me regardless of my age. If for any reason I detest any thing meant for me , then every other person should join me yo detest it for myself. It pained me bitterly each time each time I was forced into loving what I hate. At seventeen, the urge for freedom was at its brim, it was expressed in every thing that comprise my being as a human. Every sense of submissiveness to sharkles of restriction was rapidly loosing momentum. I was an exceptional student encapsulating two parallel qualities within me. No academic competition holds in any class I find myself my heading the group. I have kept the record of being the most excellent student in any school I attend but I could barely exhaust two sessions in a particular school. I was not rude but I hate rules. Emphatically, rules that restrict me from expressing my will. My will was guarded by what I felt was morally justified by my own moral standards. No one moral standards should stand supreme above others. I was regarded insolent in my attitude but it never cared much to me since I subscribe to the idea of free expression of one's feelings and will. Express your feelings and wills; I approve of that,but subdue me with it; I rebel. My father served in the Army as a youth but resigned at a time he felt the system was infiltrated by indiscipline and injustice. To his standard, he was a custodian of discipline, morals and social justice. To me, he was just an officer whose self-standards and principle lacked sufficient energy in all forms to sail close to the winds. He is the warder that kept me in prison on the agreement that he will set me free the very second that will turn me 18 years. 

I was rusticated from school this time because I lead the group of students that burnt down the principal's car. I felt no remorse, I was rusticated but don't feel it, sincerely, I was happy receiving the news . How can I join the crowd of cowards and sychophants who could not agitate for the arrest of the principal's son who stabbed a student to death? Instead the principal warned them to admit that the student fought with the herds men who occasionally grazed in our school field with their cattle. I could not swallow this, that was an extreme act of wickedness and greed. How could I bears the tears that dripped out the eyes of that "igala" boy as he drew his last breathe?. He died before the arrival of the school Doctor. My spirit would have remained underfilled if that demon that possessed the principal dwelt still in the swine. How can the head of a school cook up such a demonic lies just to spare his arrogant son who parade him self all the time as number one student of the school without being the Head boy.The bastard son of the principal was my class mate but he knows how capable I am to tear his flesh apart and throw his carcas to the scavengers. Before eighteen I couldn't have done this. Your father could be the president of the country for all I care. While I was a student of my former school before I was indefinitely suspended, we had come for an inter house sport in this my present school. Athletics was genetically transmitted in my family. My elder brothers each won more trophies and prizes than our father my prison warder who joined the Army on recommendation by an Army General during his days at the command day secondary school for his excellent and exceptional abilities on track and field events. 

Every school I attended would always have countless reasons to keep me back but would also always have one "good" reason to throw me out. The waves propagating my actions in such conditions leading to my suspensions must definitely be psunamic. As a member of the school sports team, I represent the symbol of athletics and intelligence for the six months I spent in that school.our team had come for inter house sports competition on invitation by this very school, after the competition, we swept all awards and trophies to my school. While we were jubiliating over our excellent performance, the bastard son of Mr. Principal triggered off an activity I also love so much by hitting one of our team member with a stick on the head. How can TBB leave that scene without making sure that I express my will ? I definitely expressed it to my satisfaction and to the confirmation of every one. I was fondly called TBB (The Brilliant Bull). A name the warder detested but had no choice to love it as soon as I turned 18.

I arrived home with the rustication letter, it was needless presenting it to my father since he was no more my warder and basically because the psunamic wind blew home before my arrival. It was nothing new throwing me into my then warder's guard room and rehearsing his military tactics of beating civilians on me. This time it would have been more brutal for it was the biggest hit of my numerous actions if not for 18 years; the golden age. The expressions on the faces of every member of my family as I entered the room were tormenting . I managed to sit beside my mother. She has really gotten so frustrated with my recent action. I wasn't the first child to grow under her cover; a family of six and am just before the last (penultimate child). Why different from other of her children?. How can I be so blessed and cursed at same time. I saw no reason to be alarmed by my actions, for me, they just have to understand things I do from my own perspective and not theirs. My brothers have the the good ones from fathers standard, sure I owe them much respect but sometimes I feel they fake their style of life just to please our father; the most supreme authority. I consider that an act of cowardice and deceit. My eldest brother, a graduate from the most famous and prestigious university in this part of the world shared similar attributes but he lacked the courage to withstand the autocratic nature of the old soldier. As a boarder, he was able to conceal his real nature from our father, I later learnt he was a one time head of a fraternity then in secondary school ; who then is a saint?. He was also at home since he has not travelled back to London where he works as a telecommunication Engineer having returned for Christmas and new year celebration. He was gradually taking responsibilities from father, we had earlier this month agreed that I will join him in London after this term but now I would not wait till the term ends , it was part of his birthday gift to me when i marked 18 on first of January.This years birthday was remarkable as my warder will release me from his prison at exactly midnight on new years eve. Gladly I started the countdown to midnight on the New year's Eve.