Destiny Fulfilled by Unoma Nwankwor

Destiny Fulfilled by Unoma Nwankwor

Author:Unoma Nwankwor
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: KevStel Productions and Publications


“I promise I’ll find a way to make the money up,” his mother said.

Mustafa paused his steps on his way to the kitchen to get a glass of water. The whole family had just arrived home from visiting one of his father’s friends. It was a few days before the Christmas holiday, but their father had announced earlier they didn’t have money to celebrate. It was the second year in a row. Mustafa turned his head to the bedroom he shared with his siblings. He didn’t want them to hear the noise.

“How? I told you not to touch that money!” his father roared.

“Omar was sick. You weren’t here. I had to take him to the hospital. Please don’t raise your voice.”

Mustafa’s jaw tightened at the familiar sound of fear in his mother’s voice. He wanted to enter the living room, but the last time he got in between their fight, he ended up with welts on his back. Handed down by his father. So instead, Mustafa headed for his room. He’d been saving the allowance he got from doing odd chores for Mrs. Badawi, who lived across the street. The widow was blind in one eye and had no one to help her do simple chores in and around her house. After school, eating dinner and settling his siblings, Mustafa went over to help her with what she needed. The money he had should be enough for his father. Anything to ensure his mother didn’t get hit. As he opened the door, Yasmine ran out.

“Yas, where are you going?” he asked.

“To tell mama I don’t want to eat chicken for dinner. I want lamb.”

“No Yas, stop…” His sister frowned at him and ran off.

Mustafa turned to follow her but didn’t catch up with her before she entered the living room.

“Mama, can we have lamb for dinner tonight?”

Mustafa entered the room to find his father standing over his mother, who now had Yasmine on her lap.

“No. You will eat what we have,” his father thundered.

Mustafa frowned, walking over to his mother. His sister had tears rolling down her cheeks.

“It’s okay, baby. I will make it—”

“No, you won’t! That’s the problem now. You’re always using money for the wrong things.”

His mother stood. “Ahmed, it’s not the wrong thing. Feeding our kids is not the wrong thing.”

“Are you saying I am a bad father?”

Mustafa moved toward his sister and drew her close. The vein in his father’s neck was protruding and that was always a bad sign. He consoled his sister and walked her out of the living room. He needed to get her away.

“Why are you always trying to put words in my mouth? I don’t have time to argue with you,” his mother said.

Mustafa assumed she attempted to walk away because the next thing he heard was his father’s roar.

“Are you walking away from me? I rescued you from your miserable existence as a spoiled only child.”

“Yas, please stay here. Do not come into the living room. I’ll be right back,” Mustafa begged.



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