Austin woke up late the following morning, and saw that Sandra was not sleeping beside him. Angrily, he got up to look for her, thinking she had left him again. He got into the bathroom, freshened up, got dressed and picked up his keys.
“Jemima!” he called, as he walked into the children’s room.
“Yes, Daddy! Good morning, Dad,” Jemima answered, rushed out of her bed and knelt before him, quivering.
“Get up! I think you’ve knelt down enough. That will teach you not to misbehave, naughty girl,” he frowned at her.
“Thank you, daddy, I’m very sorry. It won’t happen again.” Crying and still shaking, she stood up before him.
“You’re sorry. It’s okay, you can go,” he dismissed her, and then, he called her back. “Come back here. Where is your mum?”
“I think she is in the laundry room. She was talking about doing our laundry, and had asked Jasmine and Dan to bring the laundry baskets to her.”
“So, she’s in this house?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Then, why are you not with her?”
“I’m sorry, Daddy, but you told me to kneel since yesterday evening, and you had not asked me to get up. I… I…” she moved away from him, as she saw that dreadful look on his face, knowing he could pounce on her and beat her up. He looked at her in disgust awhile, and then he moved close to her and pushed her out of the room.
“Just get out of here. Go call your mum to me,” he yelled at her. With relief, she ran into the kitchen.
“Sandra!” he called impatiently, and Sandra came out of the kitchen into the sitting room to meet him.
“Austin, I’m here and I wish you’ll stop shouting before the neighbours think we are fighting again, and we shou…..”
“Shut up!” he interrupted her, angrily. “The neighbours don’t tell me how to run my home. So, how they feel or what they think doesn’t bother me in anyway. Now, why is my breakfast not ready?”
“I’m sorry. You know you don’t like cold food. Give me ten minutes, and it will be served,” she moved away from him, seeing he was in a foul mood.
“Ten minutes, else you’ll get it hot with me this morning,” he frowned at her. Just then, his phone rang, and he took it.
“Yes, Sir,” he sobered as he took the call, seeing it was Alhaji Al-Mustapha, his Capon.
“Austin, get to the club, immediately,” he said coldly and Austin nodded.
Alhaji Al-Mustapha was a very handsome, middle aged man, but looked like he was still in his thirties. Whenever he spoke, it was with an air of confidence, always collected and calm, like he had everything under his control.
“Yes, Sir.” Austin hung up and left the house without saying a word. The kids embraced Sandra, weeping in relief as they saw him go.
Transforming Word Series 
say no to domestic violence!
LikeLike