When I returned home, the two persons who had become my confidants, John and Efe, sat with me to discuss the latest development. Everyone was enthusiastic about the fertility treatment I was going to go through.
“I cannot wait for you to complete it, sir. Then you can have your own children, your own flesh and blood,” John said.
“Well, I must be grateful to the two of you. Without you, it would not have been possible. The doctor there has assured me that within a month, the treatment will be completed,” I said.
Efe said what excited her most was the fact that the whole treatment will not involve orthodox medicine or injections. I was going to be on diet and will be taking some herbal drinks and food supplements.
I nodded in agreement. We all, in our moment of excitement, did not think about who was going to be my partner to give birth to my children. We had very light supper that evening. Then we relaxed in the living room to watch TV. After watching the latest Ghanaian film, I left the two for my bedroom.
But before I could enter, I suddenly felt urge to have a look at Peter and Pamela's room. I retraced my steps down the corridors, virtually tip-toeing because I did not want to alert John and Efe about where I was going. They would definitely have followed me there if they knew I was going there. But, I wanted to be there alone.
I got to the door and gently opened it. Immediately I did, the scent of my children reached me. With my heart beating wildly, I pushed open the door and entered. Their presence was everywhere.
Their picture, mounted on huge frames looked down at me from the wall.
I stared back at them, their smiles. Their innocent smiles were everywhere. And their eyes bore into me as if they were appealing to me not to let go off them. I opened their wardrobe; they dresses hanged in there while their shoes were arranged on the shoe rack. Pamela’s teddy bear lay quietly and sadly on her bed.
I fought back tears. They were the two children I had known as mine for the past years. Those were the children I had hugged, kissed and cuddled as a father. But in a twinkle of an eye, I had discovered that they were not my children – at least DNA tests had proven they were not my children.
It was so unbelievable. How could I live the rest of my life knowing that they were not my children? I sat down on Pamela's bed. Memories of nights I used to come and sit on their beds and chat with them came flooding back to me. I felt the tears swelling up in my eyes. Then I realized that I was trembling.
“I still love you, Peter. I still love you Pamela. You are my children! You will always be my children, I promise,” I heard myself say.
I reached for Pamela's bed sheet and wrapped it around my body. It felt like having her wrap her arms around me as I carry her. “Pamela my princess! My love! My baby! I love you so much,” I said. By this time, I was weeping. The tears were flowing liberally down my cheeks. My heart was burning, burning for my children.
I began to wonder where they were at that material moment. Were they missing me too? Were they being coached to call another man 'Daddy'? How will their young hearts assimilate all that was happening around them?
I looked up once more at their pictures hanging fro8ìm the wall. They were all smiling and their eyes were directly at me. I began to think of the future I had planned for them. Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep on Pamela's bed.
…………to be continued…………
Watch out for the next book series "In search of Treasures" by Lewis Dampson. This is a story about an orphan who has been deprived of even the basic needs of life and sets out on an audacious mission to become successful in life. Don't miss this thrilling story!!! In search of Treasures (Coming soon!!!!) On www.kofibless.blogspot.com
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