Unloved

By Olukunle Olafare

Three children unite into a rebellious group against their super wealthy Father. They isolate him, maltreat him and wait eagerly that he may die with all of his wealth turned in their direction.

But like a work of art; which outlives its painter, like a timeless antic, their father remained. He did all within his power to reunite with his prodigal children but his efforts yielded only more hatred from the children he called his own.

Unloved and unwanted, life granted their greatest wish and claimed the soul of the wealthy industrialist. When he eventually succumbed to death, he did not go without drama and a box filled with surprises for each of his children.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Oct 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9781698703701

Olukunle Olafare

Olukunle Olafare is a Lagos-based writer. He grew up loving poetry and other literary woks of art . He is a chartered accountant who has done all possible to see his passion for writing come to light. Olukunle hails from the picturesque town of Ifewara in Osun State, an idyllic town nestled in Osun State in Nigeria. He is quick to allude to the artistic nature of this town as one of the major factors that lace his passion for writing. Olukunle is married with children. No matter the sphere of life you operate from, he believes writing and appreciating the arts is a natural call that all of us must embrace.

Book preview

A sinner’s prayer

When I err,

that the garment of vain I wear

The cross of my neighbour I no more bear

And the burden of my brother I do not share.

When I sink. Deep down

Into praise of self

That I let folly become my crown

And myself I carry; delicate like a leaf

Punish me with the whip

Redeem me by its lethal strokes

I will run home like a lost sheep

And in pious tears I’ll let my garment soak

But do not perchance decree that I be unloved

Like an outcast, do not allow love take leave of me

The unloved man is lone, never condoled when bereaved

And when he calls a feast, only jackals and himself will he see

However great my dalliance, however severe my fault may be

However far from you I stray

Heed this humble cry, I pray

Never decree that I be unloved.

Never take from me the sweet taste of love

That I may not die many times before I die

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1

T he vibration of the hand piece against the pillow was deafening. At that point, Rodney could have smashed it against the wall and not feel any guilt. He was engulfed in the amazing sensuality of his dream when his phone got at him with a gnash, causing him to lose the much awaited climax of his erotic dream.

He reluctantly raised his sleepy head, slid his right hand underneath his pillow in search of the offending piece, still vibrating and buzzing like an annoyed rattled snake. His fingers got a firm grip of the phone. It was an unknown number, he scooped it and spoke into it.

Yeah? he said with a strong infuriated baritone.

Sorry, do I have Rodney Layemo on the line?

You sure don’t, he replied sternly. I don’t indulge in conversations with strangers who invade my privacy at early hours because it has led to so many catastrophic experiences. I don’t expect you’ll have reasons not to acquiesce."

A soft smile broke on the other end.

Egocentric pig, the caller thought, just as he was warned to expect.

Well, I’m a doctor from the Calvary Height Clinic in Badagry. We have your father and he needs you around.

What’s killing the old man this time, Rodney asked rudely, still pissed.

He has been diagnosed with polycystic kidney disease, Your father is in end-stage renal failure. His kidney that had been doing the important work—removing excess water and waste from his blood, transforming poisonous waste products into urine and returning cleansed blood for use throughout his body—is no longer functioning. His kidney is failing and we have done all we know to do to stabilize him. I am afraid, he’s living his last days, came the reply.

‘’I can’t be bothered about health matters, I’m a criminal lawyer, not an oncologist or cardiologist or a doctor of any sort," Rodney said with a venomous anger.

The caller shrugged, and tried from another angle

We are doing all the medicals, he only needs you for…

Chief Layemo was lying in a bed, somewhat lumpy with padding covered in sterile white sheets with blue blankets that were trying to mask the thick plastic covering the mattress. He raised a hand like he wanted to be part of the phone conversation and sent the doctor on the phone to a timeless silence.

Are you still there? Rodney barked into the phone, his sweaty palm tired of holding up the phone Hello, he called repeatedly.

I’m here, came the soft reply.

Call any of my sisters, I don’t mean to be unfeeling but care giving is more of a lady’s forte. Before the doctor could say Rodney, the line went dead.

Chief Layemo gave a shrug, one that said; I told you

I’m sorry chief, the doctor blurted.

Rodney should be sorry not you, Chief replied with a sigh.

Chief Layemo reemphasised how sure he was that none of his kids would give a hoot if he were dead or alive. As far as they were concerned, he was a rock sitting atop a fortune, the sooner the rock is overturned, the better for all three of them.

Earlier, Dr. Terry Broadson had placed a similar call to Susan, Chief Layemo’s second child and first daughter. Now, after his ordeal with Rodney, he was sure Susan was more callous. The mere mention of her father had infuriated her so badly that she told the doctor to await her lawyer’s summons as his call had heightened her blood pressure. Broadson’s sad smile could not be hidden, a bunch of jackals this man has as children, the doctor thought.

Faith was worse. Well, there’s no telling how unreceptive they all were of the news about their father. Finding out who is more tolerable would be near impossible, they were all self-centred and could not be perturbed. Faith was the youngest and the meanest, so thought Broadson.Hello, the doctor had said into the phone but no reply came.

He tried again, this time he was shocked, mouth agape. Sorry madam I’m sure you don’t know me but…

Sure I don’t, and you don’t know me too, if you did, you’ll realize I get my facial massage at this time daily and cannot be disturbed.

Many apologies, it’s about your father.

Even if you were calling in respect to a million dollar deal, I still think you should drop and call at a better time.

The doctor’s protestations couldn’t get him far. The call was already dead before he could say a thing.

"Chief Layemo sighed heavily, he had already warned the doctor about his kids but the doctor wanted a first-hand experience. He certainly got the experience he wanted.

I’m sure none of those kids are mine, Chief Layemo lamented. These days, he couldn’t make a whole sentence without feeling the pang of fatigue.

We only need one of them to donate a kidney, that’s all, Broadson retorted.

The hospital room was alight as the old man crackled; breaking out in laughter.

Donate? he asked in disbelief,

Yes, chief, donate!

I thought, you merely wanted one of them to sign the necessary papers before I am wheeled to surgical theatre. The old man’s agony was unconcealed.

They can’t even offer a minute of their valuable time and you want to subject them to the sharp blades of your surgical knives, you are a joker Broadson, he added.

Now I know better. The doctor said with pity.

When Calvary height clinics came to Nigeria from its U.K base, the challenges were enormous; landed properties sold at indiscriminately high prices, ineffective and insincere housing policies crippled every effort at securing decent place of business, and unreliable electricity supply threatened to double operating expenses. The hospital had to prepare to account for extra utility costs, It was difficult settling in for a charity driven organisation. At some point, the plan to establish a hospital in Nigeria was to be jettisoned. They were faced with overwhelming challenges which brought thoughts that were wavering between relocating the hospital to Benin Republic or Ivory Coast; in the hope to find better odds for business success.

While their minds were still surging the perplexity of the situation of things, Chief Dotun Layemo came to their rescue like the knight in a million shiny amours. Rita Osuagwu, one of the U.K trained doctor’s with the foundation, introduced Chief Layemo; an extremely benevolent man, to the team of experts at the foundation. They were quite unsure he would help after they had had lots of bigger companies, and government parastatal turn down their proposals for help. Rita was certain Chief would help but the team didn’t think so. She could sense the doubt radiating from them like heat off a sun-baked rock as they entered into a lobby which was well-furnished with tapestries and porcelain.

At the lobby, instead of traditional use of statues and banners hanging from the ceilings, there were holograms and display screens showcasing the company’s portfolio. The Chief’s secretary guided them through a set of glass doors in a frosted glass partition, then they walked into a wide open office space. Dexterity Worldwide was boldly inscribed on an ultra-modern acrylic plate that appeared to be a floating glossy reversed-printed imagery that gave a spectacular office accent and corporate uplifts to the environment. Dexterity worldwide; the name that brought Chief Layemo more money than most national governments in Africa, can be seen written conspicuously all around the plush office. Everything in the office was rich and lavish. The floors were made of coloured tiles arranged in jagged patterns, and the walls were made of glass, revealing additional views of the city and the splendour of the groaning ocean tide.

A frosted glass partition separated Chief ‘Layemo’s private office from the other offices. Contrasting with the bright floors and the bright exterior view, there was a black desk on one end of the room, made of a rare dark organic wood where Chief was seated majestically.

They made their way in as the secretary ushered them to a long upholstered seat by Chief’s right. For the next one hour, Chief could not be interrupted. He told stories of his penniless childhood and tales of adolescence. He was profuse. He narrated his ridiculous experiences; one of how he prostrated before some stylishly dressed mannequin at Kingsway on his first visit to Lagos, how he trekked three hours, lost in Ebute Meta while he was merely five minutes from his destination. He was lively and the visitors soon felt at home in his cosy office. He was a kind hearted man with everything in the world but not a warm family conversation. He had the rugged good looks of a toiler, though bowing to age, at sixty, he was athletic and full of life.

I remember and I laugh, how I ran back the first time I entered an air conditioned room, Chief Layemo narrated. Everybody laughed.

I thought it was a mortuary, the last time I felt so cold, I had followed an uncle to claim my father’s corpse from the state morgue at Ilesha. Chief Layemo continued. When he paused for a second, Broadson, who had led the group, chimed in politely, the Chief’s life was worth listening to but he would rather leave it to the man’s biographers.

Chief, we are glad you could have us, he started.

I’m sure you’re Broadson the Chief interrupted.

Yes sir, I am

While in the U.K, an optician from Calvary heights, Dr. Sullivan, I can’t forget him in ten lifetimes, he saved me from partial blindness, he said with a serious smile. A smile that no doubt took him down memory lane.

Since then, I’ve always sent my annual donation to the foundation, he continued. The room at this time was silent, the beep of the answering machine chimed once a while and the television could be heard a few feet away in the outer office.

Now that your foundation has chosen to come to Nigeria, I will be glad to help in whatever way I can, Chief Layemo announced.

The room was all of a sudden heated up, all visiting doctors began to perspire, like a joke the idea that was at the verge of collapse seemed to be back on deck, they nodded in unison, as they awaited the golden words.

I understand all the constraints you are faced with. I have choice landed properties around this city, my personal assistant will lead you around them, be free to choose any one that suits your purpose.

Even if he had stopped at that, the foundation would have kissed his shoes, but he went on still.

I will have fifty million naira transferred to you as soon as possible, he concluded.

Broadson could no longer hold himself, he jumped to his feet and advanced towards the man, with outstretched hands. The handshake almost took the Chief’s hand off. He was