Broken

Kaycodev
4 min readJan 4, 2021

The truth without blemish and a tint of a lie… broken

Photo by Jilbert Ebrahimi on Unsplash

First, this was inspired by Richard, who I hold not only in high esteem but also inspires me beyond measure.

One of my biggest problems is the notion that I’d never be loved for who I am and that I’d never be enough!

Growing up, My dad wasn’t and still isn’t an easy man to please, I was reminded everyday how my two dead older brothers were smarter and better than I’d ever be, So everyday I’d wake up with one goal in mind: To make sure I do enough to make my dad happy, while this then had it good sides then, I still struggled cos I don’t think anything ever will be and although now I work to cast myself off the shadows of his praise for long its still something to struggle with. I was tagged as one of the smartest kids in school, probably due to how competitive I was, well that was what everyone saw, for me I couldn’t afford to fail, not once and whenever I scored the second position, I was always scared of what would happen to me when my dad gets hold of that knowledge, and so I went, pushing myself beyond measure to avoid the abuse that followed if I didn’t.

I was 13 when my dad left the first time, for months I watched my mom cry her heart out, of course we managed well, a few scholarships and a school headmistress who supported the education of me and my siblings, we fared okay, the pain was to come every night and see my mom crying and praying that he kept us safe and made us better than our father. A little after six months, he was back in our lives and I don’t know we moved on, this incident was the first of the second time he left and everytime this happened, all I could think of was, how damaged am I and my sibings were, that anyone would ever reject us not once but twice!

its weird when people see me and see a perfect son, doesn’t smoke or drink, smart (relax i sabi something small) and respectful, at least I’ve been told this a lot growing up, what a lot of people don’t see is how much I’m scared of everything, of making mistakes, how much I apologize even when I’m not wrong, all so maybe they don’t leave like my dad did to us. I remember when me and my siblings all came back home at the end of a term with 2nd positions on our result sheet, we were flogged and after a while given a lesson that ended with the sentence, “If you people (me and my siblings) continue like this, then I will leave you people and never come back, and you people will suffer since you want to be foolish and waste my money”.

I’ve always thought poverty was driven away by prayers, as a child I knew how much we prayed that my dad became rich and for the most times, these prayers seem to work and well when it did, we didn’t get to see our dad for weeks and when we did, he was flogging us for not praying the money lasts, this and more acts prompted me to rethink how I view christainity and religion, even with this form of abuse, I was reminded a lot about the sons of other men who are better and do better than I do…

I’m scared of commitments, relationships and even marriage, cos I can’t imagine giving what I do not have to a partner or child, Love. I am scared I will never be able to do better as is evident in my recent relationships.

I get insecure when I hear words like I love you, oftentimes I’ve come to free myself (to the one I told deficere, I’m sorry and I love you dearly S), but Omo e dey always end in tears, weeping and sorrow lol, So I move around, trying to pretend I’ve got it all figured out, laugh and smile but deep down, I’m broken, I overthink a lot and even more I get saddened for reasons I can’t determine yet, To feel pain and remind myself I’m alive, I cut and somedays I wish I’d die, but I don’t and the next morning I’m up posting memes on my status, writing code and joking with friends on who’s richer (P.S send me money lol).

So everyday, I laugh, smile and make sure everyone is happy, at the base of my heart is a voice, “You’d never be enough, you’d never know love, you’re broken!”

Note: This is a not a bid to paint my father as a bad man, maybe like his father before him, he wasn’t loved. He is a better man than he was and well I’ve come to live with the scars of his and our past. You can reach out to me via mail kaycodev@gmail.com

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Kaycodev

Thoughts. Feelings. 👩‍💻 Dev. Mental Health.