Catharsis II: Windfall & Second Chances

By Abiola A A

I have done this before, I purged my emotions and gave you pieces of me before when I published Catharsis 1. I can only hope that Catharsis 2 gives you the same feeling, and more.

This is a book that captures my state of mind at different times in the past two years. A collection of short notes I wrote to express how I feel abo

• Language: English
• Publisher: Abiola Abdullateef Adebola
• Release date: Nov 26, 2020
• ISBN: 9789462287235

Book preview

DEDICATION

This one is dedicated to Abimbola, to Medinat, to Aunty Tola, to Brother Bolaji, to Caezar, to Ahmed, to Size, to Yebosola, to Akanke, to Moronke, to Adetoun, to Heights, to Rose Mary, to Bukunmi, to TMG, to Omotola, to Lekcycas, to Feranmi Okafor, to Biola, to Tobi, to Morolayo, to Zamiat, to Wendy, to Emilade, to Feezah, to Munarchee, to Tutorgerl, to Sophie, to Fiezie, to Funsho, to Uncle Femi, to Mr Tella, to Mr Lola, to Freaky Bastard, to Dapo Eko, to Hposh, to Dayoslides, To KG, to Doctor Nike, to Zeezar, to Juliet Nnaji, to Jasanya, to Aunty Toyin, to Lala, to Motunrayo, to Dolayiwole, to Amanda, to Nureeyah, to Beautiful Madness, to Kishi, to Ayooluwa, to Lola, to Dija, and to all the many uniquely amazing people who have unknowingly been an integral part of my journey to self discovery.

INTRODUCTION

You are about to read different chapters, written at different moments of my life in the last two years. They are mostly unedited, very raw, and very cathartic.

I have done this before, I purged my emotions and gave you pieces of me before when I published Catharsis 1. This is more catharsis, I can only hope that it gives you the same feeling, and more.

If you have followed my works for a long time, you already know what to expect. If you are a new reader/follower, I want you to know that I am nothing like the other writers you know. I am not as sophisticated as they are. I’d advise you to lower your expectations before you start reading.

This is a book written by a rebel, it’s not for the critics. You should also know that everything you are about to read is true. A little bit of hyperbole here and there, but still true.

Enjoy.

Chapter 1

Abimbola

I think that I am one of those people, you know, those people who are just at peace with their demons. I know I am a haunted soul, I know that I come from a line of really disturbed men. My father had his own demons, I think you have your own demons too, yes you; you have these demons that you run from. We all do, don’t we? I like to think that everything in life happens for a reason, that B happens because of A. My brother died on a sunday morning, alone on his bed. I got the call, the voice on the other end of it was Zainab’s. ‘I have been trying to wake Abimbola up, he is not responding’.

That morning, before the call came, I had told a friend that I had a feeling my brother was dead, and that I was too scared to call anyone at home. When the call came, I remember I started to shake, my heart trembled because I knew I was about to hear the saddest news of my life. I just knew it, I felt him leave, I felt him slip away to heaven. As I got the heartbreaking confirmation, I ran to Caezar’s room, and I just broke down on his bed, and I cried my eyes out. He was gone, that was a difficult thing to accept. How do you handle such pain? Nothing prepares you for something so horrible.

Let me take you back to how my brother fought for his life. His death wasn’t a defeat, because he was a warrior till the very end. His strength was unreal, he was strong for us, he told us to smile, he told us to believe, to hope, and to not give up. We all messed up though, because we could not even handle the possibility of losing him. I could not. I found myself running away, Abimbola did not deserve cancer, my brother did not deserve to suffer. Who am I to decide who deserves what? I could not process it, till he died, I struggled with acceptance.

My mother fought for him the most, stood by him, sat by him, flew to India with him, fed him, protected him, there was nothing more she could have done to save her son. Mothers are