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PETER’S SUICIDE NOTE

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My name is Peter, the first born of the family of nine people (mum and dad inclusive). I’ve never known of riches and wealth, my parents have worked so hard to train me in primary and secondary school of which I dropped out at SS2 so my siblings could have the taste of formal education. At 14yrs I became an apprentice which lasted for 18 months, my salary went to my family as I lived with my boss and spent nothing on feeding. Id trek miles from home to the shop each day apart from the day of the Lord. Two years later I became independent and started practicing that which I’ve learnt for the past years.

I still knew no riches and wealth, I fed like there was close no food on the surface of the earth, I even struggled to get a shop of my own where I sold motor parts. I fed my shoulders with heavy loads each day, the sun became so friendly to my skin and cold was like massages. I got a well built body, good enough for ladies to trip for, not because I knew gym houses, but these daily loads that added little papers to my pockets also made me a hit man. I couldn’t afford the least of apartments in town, I gathered planks and sticks from construction sites and rotten zincs that where disposed. Slowly I built myself a little apartment which could barely stand the least of rain storms.

The last born of the family was in JSS3 when I got an experience I wouldn’t forget in a life time. That faithful evening it had started getting dark as the clouds gathered to for heavenly assembly, I ran to my apartment to avoid getting soaked and beaten by the rain. The wind came first and my little apartment, though shaken, survived the storm. But when the downpour began, the storm doubled and my apartment was uprooted from its foundations, my efforts to hold it amounted to nothing, I was exposed to the heavy rain which almost tore my hard skin. I made for my shop miles away from what I called home, shivering from the cold, I almost fell and as I got to my shop, I frantically searched for the key to my salvation and couldn’t find it, that was when I remembered that I hung it on one of the nails holding the woods of my apartment, I ran back, praying that a miracle will happen.

Just there laid the remains of my apartment with water rushing over it, the water was so fast that it sounded like a river body, I was scared but there, beneath the rushing water laid my key, so I braved in, one step after the other, I reached under and searched for my key, minutes, almost an hour yet nothing. I ran back to my shop after searching for something that wasn’t there and decided to break into the shop. My first hit on the padlock, I was greeted with a flashlight from the market security, then a shout, I made for a run, then a roar from a gunshot, another roar, a sharp pain from my chest to my laps, then a blackout.

Eight months later I recovered from the coma, I was diagnosed with so many complications, still unable to move a finger, I was to spend more months on the hospital bed and I was told that someone handled my bills….

A year later, I was told of what have happened since my pass out. I lost three siblings in a car accident, mum had developed mental illness from the shock, my immediate junior brother was shot dead, he joined the military and was sent to the war front.

Now I had two siblings left, Frank and Joy, Frank was the one footing my hospital bills as he finally became a successful business man, Joy was in her second year in the high institution….

Four years later, Joy together with her team died in a pipeline fire explosion as she worked with the oil company. She left a male child and a handsome man behind.

Mum and dad died six and nine years later respectively, after the death of Joy.

This isn’t just a life story, I write this to you, Frank, before drinking this bottle of poison beside me. May the beloved find his way to his family soon.

And we expect you to leave an offspring that will tell our story on the face of this cruel Earth.
Till then, I bid you Godspeed.
Love from family.

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