Rewriting My Story

I woke up earlier than expected this morning. “What’s the point of setting an alarm when you’re going to wake up before it,” I thought to myself as I reached for my phone which I had carefully kept by the side of my bed before I drifted off to the dream world. After a few minutes of wrestling with the bed cover, I found it. I realized I woke up 20 minutes before my alarm. The first thing I did when I turned on my phone was to navigate to Discord and check today’s Hive Learners’ prompt. The topic read: “What would you do if you found out that you were adopted by your parents?” My mind began to wander and I remembered that this exact topic had been the weekly prompt for another community just a few weeks ago. I had skipped it because I just didn’t want to do it, but I enjoyed reading entries from other participants. Small world! It seems fate wants me to share my take on this topic.

I thought I’d be able to write on this topic effortlessly, but as soon as I was about to start, my head went blank. “What would you do if I found out that I was adopted by my parents?” I read the topic out loud. First off, growing up, people often told me that I was a clone of my dad because I looked so much like him. We (my siblings and I) all did. The idea of being adopted? Impossible. I guess my head was blank because I struggled to picture this scene. I love my parents so much that it is difficult to imagine them not being my biological parents. After a while, an idea popped into my head and I decided to write a short fictional story about how I would react if I found out my mother and father weren’t my biological parents:

As I stepped into my father’s compound, the irresistible aroma of my mother’s Ogbono soup drew me in. It gave me a warm hug. I was born with a magical gift for recognizing my mom’s cooking miles away. Immediately, I quickened my steps and raced towards the door, expecting a joyful welcome- the usual greetings, smiles, and hugs that followed on days when my mother prepared my favorite soup. Instead, I was greeted by my mother’s worried expression and troubled eyes. “Unusual! Who stole her usual radiant smile?” My eyes shifted to the far corner, and my heart skipped a beat. My dad would normally be in his work place at this hour. He doesn’t joke with his business. He took a few steps forward and stood beside my mom. “Daddy, what are you doing home so early?” I asked, curiously.

“Tell him. Show him the paper.” In a cracky voice, my mum said to my dad. She managed to get the words out. She had been crying. My father had tears trapped in his eyes, but he wanted to be a man, so he mustered the courage, deepened his voice, and said the following words “Justfavour, we are sorry we hid the truth from you all this while, but now is the best time.” He paused and stole a stare at me. “We are not your biological parents.” He said as he handed me the paper- what turned out to be my adoption papers. I stared at it, looked at my parents, looked at my parents, and stared at the paper again. Suddenly, I let out a devilish laughter. I rolled on the floor! When I finally managed to grasp my breath, I yelled “Big joke! Where are the cameras, guys?”

No one ever prays for this situation to happen. This is one of the most brutal things that could shatter a child’s heart. Imagine growing up with your parents for 25 years only to find out that they are not your biological parents. Where would you start from? After thinking deeply, my first reaction would be what I did out there- an uncomfortable laughter outburst. However, if it turned out to be true, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t hate my parents. I’d still love them for all the love, care, and attention they showered me with. I think I’d be curious to know who my biological parents are. Who are they and why did they leave me? Also, why did it take so long for my foster parents to tell me the truth?

Thanks for reading.