Dysfunctional

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 1

Bosco’s POV

A time in May 1993, Mom arrived home drunk again. I was just ten years old with my four siblings; Mark, Mary, James and little Joseph. I know it sounds like they were disciples of Jesus but it was Dad’s idea. He wanted us to be disciples who had that Catholic grounding.

I was named John Bosco after a Reverend father at our district. According to dad, I was given birth to just when he was ordained. Mark was thirteen years old and the eldest

He was given birth to as an imbecile. It was never like the steroetype imbeciles; he looked totally normal but he was in his actions and words.

Even though being mentally impaired, Mark would stick up for me and I would do same for him.

I was the second child of the family, Mary was seven, James was five and little Joseph was barely a year old.

Mom fell to the ground. Getting drunk for mom was a usual routine. Dad would always warn her to stop it. There were times she would be found in gutters, drunk to stupor but at least she made it home this day.

Dad wasn’t at home and I didn’t want him to find her that way. With help from my siblings, we tried to pull her into the room.

Dad walked in that moment and we all dropped her on the floor, there was a loud thud, it was mom’s head on the floor.

Dad shook his head then walked out of the house. Dad came back very late in the night

We lived in a two bedroom flat. My mom and dad took one room while I and my siblings took the other.

I couldn’t sleep that night. I walked into the sitting room seeing dad on the chair, sobbing silently. It made me unhappy to see him that way. I didn’t want him to see me, so I turned back only to step on Joseph’s toy and it made a loud noise.

“Bosco” Dad called out and I turned to him.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

He asked cleaning his tears and I moved close to him. “I couldn’t sleep” I answered and he cleared throat.

“And you?” I asked and he sniffled.

“Your father has a lot to think of, I’m making plans” he answered.

I knew he was lying but I was going to let it lie anyway.

“For example you and your siblings school fees” he added and I shook my head.

“It’s mom” I argued, “Why is she always drunk every time?” I asked.

“I don’t know” he answered in a cracky voice then cleared his throat again.

Dad was my hero and role model. He worked in the ministry. He was a prefect example of a gentleman. Despite mom’s excesses, he has never raised a hand on her. I’ve always admired his strength.

“I’ve spoken to her countless times but your mom would not stop. Maybe she’ll listen to you” he joked and I laughed.

I told him I was just ten.

“Ten but you’re a very smart man” he complimented and I laughed once more.

“You think this is funny? I’m serious Bosco, you’re the man of the house. When I go to work, you should be the pillar your siblings rely on and after I’m gone, you’ll take up my responsibility and take your siblings to school but I won’t be gone anytime soon” he added and I laughed.

“Definitely” I replied

unknown to me life had something different planned out.

Weeks later dad got ill. It started as a mild sickness until he was rushed to only God knows where. Mom refused divulging. Dad didn’t believe in diabolical things, so I never did. People became suspicious that one particular person or organization was responsible for it.

After a week, we were taken to the place where he was; a native home. Dad had stroke, he couldn’t feel his arm or leg. He didn’t even recognize us.

I felt hurt, we all did except Mark and little Joseph; they were acting like babies.

A week later, dad died. I cried like I’ve never cried before. I felt cheated, like God was being unfair. How could he have taken him after all the prayers I prayed to Him?

I knew we were done for. I didn’t see how mum’s jobless ass would pay our bills.

A month later, the church contributed to give him a burial. It wasn’t befitting of a hero but I appreciated the fact he was buried. At least he could now rest in peace.

Home wasn’t the same without dad, things changed. We had to drop out of school cause there was no money to pay our fees.

One day mom left home with Mary and James but didn’t come back with them.

“Where’s Mary and James?” I asked Mom who was obviously drunk.

“Go and ask your grandma” she replied slamming the door of her room against my face.

A week later, she went out with Mark and also didn’t come back with him.

One by one we were separated. It was just me and Joseph now. I wished mom was like every other mother. If wishes were horses.

I wept every single night! I felt like I had let Dad down.

A week later, a man from Lagos visited mom. Mom said he was a distant relative but i have never seen him before. He spent three days with us and every night he would go into mom’s room. This was usually followed by series of m*ans.

Before he left, mom announced to me that I would be going to Lagos with him so I could have a better life. We travelled on the 12th of August 1993, I remember the date so well.

The next thing I remembered was waking up in a hospital on the 24th of August. Memories of the last 12days of my life completely wiped out. I couldn’t remember a thing.

Apparently a man called Anthony Bishop ran me over with his car. I told him my story right from Uyo where i was born and raised. I told him that I had no memory of how i got to lagos.

Mr Anthony and his wife; the nicest woman I’ve ever met, they took me in. They’ve been married for five years without kids. They saw me as a blessing from God so they gave me their last name and the best education money could offer. I followed his footstep to be a lawyer too.

In 2015, Anthony Bishop, died in his sleep. One of the peaceful death a man can dream of. After he died, he willed his properties to me. I became extremely wealthy.

I had it all in life, everything a man could dream of except that I was cursed with every man’s fear.

I was battling with something that made building relationships difficult for me; something I was ashame of. No one knew about it except my best friend Alex and the girls I’ve had as girlfriends. I had a sxual problem, I have never had sx.

Heck! I have never experienced an erection before! Thirty five years old and I’ve never had s*x, my life was disappointing!

I was now in my room with my girlfriend Isabel after all the foreplays, we decided to go down to the business of the day but there was nothing interesting down there in that region.

Mr Johnson was sleeping as usual. I could see the disappointment on her face.

“I can’t do this” she shouted her voice getting all high pitch.

“Urgh!” I can’t do this anymore!!!!” She pointed at my m*nhood which was still sleeping then she sighed.

“It’s not even….” She trialed off then scoffed.

“I’m sorry” I apologized like I always would. “Maybe we could start again” I suggested and she screamed,

“No way!” She shook her head waving her fingers at the same time. “No freaking way! For crying out loud John, I’m almost naked in front of you” she blurted out, and I once again admired how s*xy she looked in her matching red pants and bra.

“And you’re not still moved now you’re talking about trying again. Trying what again John? Kilode, Haba! Are you the only one?” She asked now busting into tears.

“Have you even paused for a second to think maybe, just maybe you need deliverance?” she asked and I wore my robe feeling insulted. “Maybe oh, just maybe someone has taken your case to a higher power”

“There’s no higher power than God”

“Wo leave that one jhoor! I know you’re a strong Catholic but what if this matter is more than meets the eyes”

“The drugs…” I trialed off,

“Are not working!” Isabel completed, “Don’t let those doctors deceive you John, they’re just using your money. Listen to me oh, cause you’re obviously wasting your resources on stupid drugs that haven’t done sh*t to remedy this situation”

I cleared my throat, I didn’t even know what to say or how to respond to this.

“Sweetheart, I’m getting tired already.” She confessed and I raised my brow in shock.

“Yes! I’m getting tired” she replied as though answering the question in my mind.

“It’s been one freaking year with you and as much as I love you dear, I want s*x too, I want to feel you in me! I want you and I don’t want to cheat on you. Just…” She paused placing her left palm tiredly on her forehead.

“Just get help before I get desperate” she threatened putting on her dress.

“Isabel” I called out and she glared at me. I’ve never seen her that angry and if eyes could kill, I would have been dead.

“Isabel” I called out again and she hissed.

“Can you just let me be” she snapped, then walked out of the room.

She came back later picking up her car keys and her bag.

“I’m sorry” I apologized,

“The apology is getting too much John! Get help please” she shouted leaving the room.

Her threat had me thinking, i love her and I wasn’t going to let her walk out of my life. I came to realise that I needed help ASAP apart from the medications but I wasn’t ready to get it diabolically.