THE DYSFUNCTIONALS

"It has been quiet in here for a while now... A year actually. And that's because there has been ongoing work at the background to come up with something Fresh, Fun, Educative and Exciting to all who visit the blog. It's safe to say that we've found what we've been looking for.

Debuting today, and to feature on every Friday, is a purely fictional series titled "The Dysfunctionals" by (The PenAddict).

The Dysfunctionals would be published in episodes, with each episode totally unrelated to the previous one.

I implore you to let your mind wander through the lives of The Dysfunctionals"

- Bright Eugene.

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SERIE 1

MY NAME IS RITA

Me and my scattered mind. This minute I'm thinking about this, the next I'm on another thought. Sometimes I get this feeling my head needs a thorough clean up.
And then this morning, I wake up to a message from my step mother to send my tribute to my late grandpa. So I'm lost because it reminds me how dysfunctional my family is. Yes I'm really from a dysfunctional one (trust me, you don't want to know how bad our case is).
First thing that comes to my head is if my mama sees my tribute, what will she say (because I didn't send it to her, so how did it get there). To think my mama and my step mother are great enemies. But then I really wanna write a tribute to my grandpa. This man you see (to me) died because he wasn't well catered for (though nobody wants to admit it).

Last time I saw him, from my little understanding of medicine, I knew he was showing conditions of haemophilia (believe me I didn't study medicine but I know a lot about medicine. I study medicine in my spare time.) and his immune system was getting weak by the day; major reason his sores weren't healing completely. And when I voiced it, the response I got was the usual 'what do you know? Industrial Chemistry isn't medicine'.

Second reason I think he died was because they just wanted him out of their lives. If there's anything I've learnt from my family, it's that money can never buy love. (Yes, just so y'all know, I'm from a rich family. Money has never been and will never be a problem. This is probably why I don't chase money). Well, the money was there but the man wasn't taken to the hospital; his first nurse (well, the only one who actually took care of him at the time) became my step mother (could this have been the reason why she took good care of him? Because she no longer cared after the ring) and the nurse after her just had a title and no ability.

Why am I hurt I lost my grandpa? Well, he was everything to me. At 6, I could read a newspaper the way the news caster on NTA read the news. I learnt how to read fluently at a tender age. All thanks to my paternal grandfather. All the time my papa was busy, he was there for me (unlike my maternal grandfather who was a nuisance and made my childhood a living hell. Always inserting his fingers in my private part and telling how wonderful I felt. In fact, he made me hate being female). He taught me to read the dictionary with understanding, how to spell correctly and proper use of tenses. I can boldly say I'm bright today just because my grandpa The Late Sergeant Alfonsus Ibe made me so.
I'll probably not send a tribute to the man who called me his doctor, his pride and the cutest Ibe grand child but deep down, I know what this man means to me.



- The PenAddict