PROLOGUE
Barbara is walking in the shore of one of the pristine beaches in Nigeria. She's not lost but there's a void inside her, she just wants to have an escape. An escape to reality. She has been working in an oil field for years, an overseas Filipino worker who is longing for her family. She gets acquainted to a lot of Nigerian people, they were good but not all are hospitable.
A young man in her age saw her inner beauty, at first, he was a stalker. He was following Barbara for months now, and now he thinks that it's the right time to introduce himself to her. Barbara was sitting in the shore watching the setting sun when the young man walks towards her direction.
"I'm Abeo, I saw that you're alone maybe you need company," he extended his hands and sits beside her. Barbara was caught off guard, she didn't expect that someone will notice her because the beach was crowded.
"I'm Barbara, thanks for your concern but I'm having a time for myself", she replied.
Abeo just smiled and then walked away. Days passed and Barbara couldn't forget Abeo's face. He tried to look for Abeo in the net and she just found what Abeo means, "the bringer of happiness". Barbara smiled with the thought and since that day, she keeps searching for Abeo in places that she goes.
CHAPTER I
June 6, 2016
Dearest Rahim, I'm writing you this letter because I want you to know that even if I'm light years away, I am always here for you. Even if we haven't seen each other, please know that I am watching you from a far. I've always been proud of you and to what you will become. I love you my dear son, happy birthday!
Love,
Dad
"Rahim, are you ready for school? Your school bus will be here in a minute", mom shouted. It's still six in the morning, the smell of brewed coffee excites my day. I'm all set for school but I am lying in bed reading the first and only letter I had received from my father. For four years, every single day, I've always read the letter he gave me when I was 13, wishing I could see him with my two bare eyes, hoping I could embrace him with my warm shoulders and praying I could kiss him with my soft lips. Yes, I am badly longing for his existence.
Well, if you don't know, today is my birthday and I bet you already know what I wish for. I hope the universe will conspire to make that dream come true.
For the past years, it's always been the same, during my birthday, my mom and my three younger sisters will sing a happy birthday song for me. They'll make wishes, I'll make wishes too and then pretended to blow the candle. My mom couldn't afford to buy me a cake because we're as poor as church mice. We're struggling to survive for a day and I pity my mom for she works hard to provide our needs.
The bus honk and I kissed my mom goodbye. It's the first day of school. I moved to a new school since my former school didn't offer senior high school. A mixture of excitement and nervousness enveloped my senses. Maybe it's a normal feeling when you moved to a new school but I have this traumatic experience when I was in the first grade.
* * *
"Good morning children!", Mrs. Garcia greeted us.
"Good morning teacher!", my classmates replied in chorus.
"If I will call your name, kindly raise your hand and say present . . . Rahim Acala . . ."
"Present", I replied with a shy trembling voice and raised my hand below my head.
Everyone had their eyes on me, I feel like an ice cream slightly melting. I bow down my head and they started laughing at me, teasing me and calling me "Negro". No one wants to be friend with me because I have dark brown skin, small nose and dark brown eyes. The commotion lasted for minutes when an adorable girl headed towards me.
"What's with your physical appearance? Are you by chance, a son of a negro?", they burst in laughter.
"Do your siblings have the same skin color as you? If not, maybe you're just adopted!", she continued humiliating me. Her words brought me in tears, I cried the whole session and my teacher had to call my mom to pick me up from school.
"Am I your real son?", I confronted my mom.
"Yes of course, that's why you had my family name", with worried voice my mom replied.
"Why is it, we don't have the same skin color?", I started to cry.
"Maybe now is the right time to tell you the truth Rahim, your father is an African. We met 8 years ago in Nigeria. You know what, what we have was good not until I went back to the Philippines. He promised he will follow after I gave birth to you but he just vanished like a thin air. We lost our communication and I have no choice but to move on", mom said with tears dripping in her face.
I cried my lungs out. My mom had to buy me something to stop me from crying.
* * *
The bus stops right in front of the university. I get back to my senses, I can't help myself but to bring back the memories from my first-grade traumatic experience. It feels like déjà vu, especially it's the first day of school in my new institution. I enter the gate with so many "what ifs" in my mind. I'm afraid they will judge me through my physical appearance again.
"Tracy, when you're done with your class, go straight to the gymnasium we will be having our try out for basketball", I overheard a boy to another boy in the hallway, maybe they are varsity players here.
"Sure, I will make it!", replied the boy he was conversing to.
I think they were my age. My interest in the said sports awakened me but it cannot compare to what I'm feeling right now
"Room 224", I reread my room designation. From where I am standing, I can see my room now. The door was painted brown, it has a silver door knob and there is the room number placed at the top center, printed in bold and was laminated. Somehow, I feel guilty to my mom because I had to move to a private school, I know it will cost her much. I will make sure I will do good in school to repay my mom's sacrifices. It's a good start!