Finally, I was going to be released from the prison I had been in for almost a year.

There has been a lot of preparation for this day; several times, I had thought with despair, I wasn’t going to make it. Solitary confinement wasn’t my thing; it was tedious and trying! What kept me going was my mothers’ voice constantly praying or reading the bible and encouraging me from the other room because we were not allowed to meet and sit together.

Often despondent, I had hung on words of encouragements from my mother to ‘hang in there and not give up or quit’ while I did my time.

There were times I had considered dying; those were the times my mother was most confident in me; she would pray for me and let me know she was always there for me and that we will get through it together.

Mostly, we communicated telepathically; just when I was thinking of something, she would start discussing it with me! 

Unfortunately, I do not feel that kind of closeness with my father. He doesn’t bother to spend time with me or ask how I was coping.

He was always too busy to listen to me or ask me my problems and frustrations whenever he was around.

Funny, despite the tears, pain and headaches I caused my mother, she still believes I am Gods’ blessing to her.

So with determination, she endured whatever pain serving my time cost her.

As the months flew by, I started getting used to keeping to myself and listening to music or voices of people out there. It was fun eavesdropping on conversations going on around me outside as I shower and prepare for dinner. Over time, I had begun to imagine how the people I listen to looked like and that kept me preoccupied; I was even able to tell who was who and also imagine their expressions and emotions from the inflection of their voices.

Another time I enjoy most in my little room was shower time; everything I needed to use the bathroom was crammed up in my little room.

I’d soak for a long time in warm water relaxing and dreaming of what I intend to do once I get my freedom.

Now that the day has come to join my family, I was as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs and sure my parents were nervous as well; even when we both counted the days for so long and anticipated how our first meeting was going to be after my release, I could hear my fathers voice shake as he tried to calm my mother down, he seems to stutter a lot as he spoke quietly to her out there, that was how I knew he was nervous too.

Inspecting my little cosy and simply furnished room I had been in for these past months, I couldn’t quite quell the wells of emotion that rose up with memories of when I first got here and how lonely I felt; I fought tears as I replay all my happy and sad moments in this little room. It felt like dying and watching your whole life pass before your eyes.

With heavy heart, I hugged the walls and kissed the floor.

My eyes swam when I surveyed the room one last time while thoughts of going home with my parents gladden my heart.

There was a lump in my throat as I tried to smile and say my goodbye to this place that had become my sanctuary and home for the last time.

Once home, I intend to get a grip on my life as soon as I can get on my feet, be obedient; do the right things, make good friends and keep to myself if I have to.

I’ll also start attending prayer session with my mom; I’ll be prayerful, I’ll go to school and get a degree and become a great person who would do my mother proud.

I intend to buy her a house and a beautiful car.

I had overheard her once telling her friend how she dreamt of owning a brand new Mercedes Benz 350 and live in a five-bedroom mansion when she was a girl and when she got married to my father, she knew she would never get that.

Another time, I also eavesdropped on her conversation saying she was happy she got me, that I was better than any house and car combined. I vowed that that once independent, I would work hard to buy her her dream.

I can’t wait to tell her how much I value her confidence in me and undying love despite all I put her through. She has been through so much for my sake…endured a lot because of me… and not for once did she complain.

I believe it is only in fulfilling her dream, that I will be the blessing she always said I was to her.

I would take her around the world and show her how much I appreciate all she has done and gone through for me.

I'm aware getting educated is a good start. Perhaps later, i might start some charity program of some sort to encourage youth to study and make the right decision in life. 

Though it has cost me so much to patiently wait for this moment, I was used to my room and the privacy (solitariness) it offered.

And as always, change has its price.

That feeling that after today everything would change forever; that this moment will pass never to come back ever again always has a way of dousing the joy of the arrival of expected change…don’t get me wrong, I really can’t wait to join my family, especially my mother-bless her.

The hour finally came-9:15am on Friday morning of February-time for me to leave. My heart beat unevenly loud in my ears as I fought tears and approached the door with combined joy and sadness.

I heard the voices drawing closer to my room and became increasingly uneasy.

My heart kicked when I heard my mothers’ voice loudly now; she was praying, thanking God for my release and crying at the same time in shaky little whispers.

As I opened the door, I heard a mans’voice scream: “hold on!”  

But I was so impatient to leave; I struggled and pushed the door with my head and shoulder further to let myself out. Initially, there was some resistance causing me sharp stabs of pain which I ignored.

My mother noting my struggle to get out started pleading with the stranger, saying “please…please…help…” there was helplessness mixed with panic in her voice.

With one more push, I got into the outer room and couldn’t move, blinded by the brightness, I was overwhelmed and broke into tears as pairs of hands grabbed me roughly. Most of the people were dressed in white and blue.

The man holding me studied my expression unfeelingly. All I wanted was to enjoy my mothers’ warm embrace.

The room was unusually cold and voices sounded louder and jarring.

Crying uncontrollably, I held unto the hand as I searched for my mother in the crowded room.

The same time our eyes met, I heard the man holding me say to my parents; “Congratulations! It’s a baby boy!!!”