First and foremost, happy new year!
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I felt a chill run down my spine as I sat on the passenger's seat next to my mother. I glanced at her and from her rigid body to her stoic face, I could tell she was tensed just as I was. It felt like I was being taken to a police station or better still, my doom.

I didn't know what to expect and the anxiety was killing me. I was scared of my grandparents even when I had never seen them. From all that I had heard, they didn't look like the sweet typical grandparents. 

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as the car drove, wishing Peter was there with me. He had asked to come along but I had declined because I didn't want to drag him into my fucked up family affairs.

Besides, he had done enough me, I didn't want to stress him further with my issue. However, I wished I had agreed.

Peter was like my surge of hope. His presence radiated sunshine and happiness.  He was a perfect contrast to my Blue and grey existence. 

"Are you okay, Beatrice?" I heard my mum ask and I nodded without looking at her.

"Are you?" I directed the question to her and she let out a heavy sigh. 

"To be honest, I'm nervous." She let out a shaky laugh and I smiled.

"I hope Afolabi's parents have changed.  I really won't be able to keep calm if they try anything funny."

"I'm nervous too." I looked at her then and she stretched her arm to touch me.

"It will be fine. Just be yourself." She encouraged and I nodded.

Just then, my phone vibrated on my laps and I picked it up. It was a message from Peter and he wanted to know how things were going.
*We're still on the way.*

I replied to his message and exhaled. I tried staring at the various cars and buildings we drove past to distract myself a bit from my anxiety but it was fruitless.  My anxiety exacerbated instead.

I rubbed my sweaty palms together and willed myself to be calm.

"It's just my father," I whispered to myself even when it did nothing to ease the tension growing in my tummy, each passing minute.

I leaned into my seat and rested my head on the headrest, already wearied from thinking so much.  My eyelids fluttered close as I listened to the soft tune that played from the music player.

Minutes passed and I felt a hand pushing my shoulder slightly.
"Beatrice."

My eyes flew open to see my mother leaning close to me; her eyes searching mine as I rubbed them wearily.

"Mmm?"

"We have arrived." She announced and my eyes widened in fear.  I jerked up immediately, but my mother's soothing arms held me.

"Relax, Beatrice."

Though she was asking me to relax, I could see that she was just as anxious and nervous as I was. Her eyes were teary and her fingers were shaky.

I opened my mouth to say something but my tongue felt tied.

"Let's say a short prayer." My mother suggested and I nodded, shutting my eyes tightly as I said amen in all appropriate places to the short prayer my mother muttered.

She had asked that God touched the heart of my grandparents and that everything went well to the glory of God. It felt like we were visiting a sacred shrine of some sort.

I opened my eyes after the prayer and watched my mother unbuckle her seat belt to get out of the car. I tried to do the same but my fingers felt sore and my legs frozen.

My mother walked to my side of the car; her jumpsuit sticking to her body like a second skin. She opened the door, willing me to come out.

With the strongest of my willpower,  I did and as I walked by her side, I straightened the tiny folds on my silk dress and smoothened my hair which was packed in a bun. I wanted to look my best so they would not find any fault in me.

We crossed to the other side of the road and I took in the environs as we walked. It was quite deserted with just one woman walking down the tiled path. The quietness of the area increased my anxiety but I willed myself to be calm.

No cars were driving around and the only sound I could hear was my footsteps and the 'Koin Koin' of my mother's stiletto.

We stopped at a huge black gate and my mother knocked twice on it.

I jerked back at the sudden pair of eyes that appeared from a small opening on the gate.

The eyes peered at us: one after the other before asking who we were.

"My name is Justina and this is my daughter. We want to see the old couple that resides here."

The man's eyes narrowed as he stared back at us.

"Old couple?" He asked in confusion.

"The old people that live here." My mother explained further but the confusion on the man's face grew even more.

"No old people de live here o. Na one sisi wey her husband de Abuja de live here. Wrong house!" The man replied before shutting the small opening and disappearing from our sight.

I stared at my mother in shock and she stared back at me with the same expression on her face. Her jaw dropped and she turned to look at the huge gigantic gate.

"Beatrice, check the number written on the wall. Isn't it number twenty?"

I did as I was told and nodded in agreement.

"Yes, it is."

"Then what is this gateman saying?" She said more to herself than to me.

She raised her hand to knock again when we heard a voice.  We turned swiftly to the direction it came from to see an elderly woman walking towards us. I wondered if that was my grandmother and I tensed beside my mother whose eyes were wide in surprise.

"Is this not Ma Salome's daughter?" The elderly woman took slow steps to us.

"Good afternoon, ma." My mother greeted. "It has been so long."

"Yes, it has been." The woman replied,  shifting her gaze to meet mine.

"Good afternoon, ma." I lowered my gaze.

"Good afternoon, my dear. How are you?" She looked me over; her intent gaze taking in my feature. 

"This is my daughter." My mother answered her silent question and the woman's eyes widened in realisation.

"Are you serious? Such a beautiful girl." She complimented and I smiled shyly at her.

"What is your name?" She asked me.

"Beatrice, ma," I replied and she smiled brightly at me, taking in my image and making me uncomfortable.

"Beautiful girl." She complimented again before turning to look at my mother who had a tight smile on her face as she watched the woman examine me.

"What brought you to our street? You people just forgot about us and didn't even try to visit us ever since you left the neighbourhood. It is not good o."

My mother only smiled to this — a smile that didn't get to her eyes.

"We came to see Daddy and Mummy Afolabi." She replied, totally ignoring the woman's whine.

"They don't stay here anymore na. They travelled out of the country some years back. I heard they reside there now."

My jaw dropped and I exchanged looks with my mother who was just as shocked as I was.

"Is anything the problem?  For you to come here in search of them, hope all is well?"

"All is well, ma.  What about Afolabi? Any idea where he stays?"

"No o. That one had never lived with his parents.  He only visited them during the festive period. I don't know about his whereabouts." The woman informed, studying us intently like there were some equations on our faces. "Are you sure — "

"Thank you, ma.  We will be on our way now." My mum cut her short and dragged me along with her to the car. 

We got in and she turned the key in the ignition,  driving past the dumbfounded woman who stood by the gate in surprise. 

I could have waved to her or said something before we left but I couldn't find my voice neither could I comprehend a thing. What exactly had happened?  Was I never going to see my father?  Was this the end?

"I can't believe this." I heard my mother say as she flicked the strands of her wig away from her face angrily. "They moved?"

My eyes welled up at that and I stared at the window, staring at nothingness.  My hope which had hovered over my head like a parachute had now deflated, leaving me hollow. I had been stupid to think I could have my parents with me just like every other child.

I had no father. I would never have a father. I was fatherless.  It would have been bearable if he had rejected me — that I could heal from. The feeling of uncertainty was so much worse because I didn't know who to blame for my predicament. I couldn't even tell if my father knew about me or not.

The possibility that he might not know about my existence was shattering. I just couldn't help but think 'What if?'

I felt like a young child whose precious toy had been thrown into the sea by some clumsy mistake that could have been avoided.

My tears dropped nonstop and I heard my mum call my name repeatedly. I tried to speak but all I could do was whimper.

Then the car pulled to a halt and I was pulled into a fierce embrace — an embrace I tried to disentangle myself from. Kisses of all sort fell at various sides of my head and soft palms rubbed my back.  However, I couldn't feel all these as all I did was break down in tears.