Ties That Tether

by Jane Igharo

“Azere, your father has been dead for thirteen years. I mourned him. I respected his memory and took care of his children.” Tears fill her red eyes. “Until your uncle, I refrained from having a relationship with any man. Zere, I have done everything I can, but he is dead. Your father is dead, and I am alive. I cannot live my life for him.” “But you’ve made me live mine for him.” And this is it—the life-altering moment of realization. For years, I clung to something that didn’t exist—a phantom made of blood, flesh, and bones. My father, dead, was very much alive in my head. The strong, resourceful farmer who cultivated lands and used its harvest to provide for his family. The proud Edo man who passed on stories of his ancestors and hundreds of years’ worth of tradition to his children. The patriarch who, on his deathbed, bound his eldest daughter to a promise that gave him ease but imprisoned her. For years, that man lived in my head. I struggled to obey him, to please him—to please a man who was long gone, a man unable to speak, a man not entitled to opinion. I lived for him. And now, the realization dawns. “Baba is dead, and I am alive.” I nod at this simple logic that has somehow evaded me for thirteen years. “He was a good father with good intentions, but he is dead. And for thirteen years, I’ve been obeying a dead man, striving to keep a promise I ignorantly made. And you have been holding that promise over my head.”