My Child Died By My Hands

Editorial Team

Sometimes in life, we wish we can turn back the hands of time and change things, but there's nothing I can do to bring back my dead son, worse still, I have no other child since his death. If he were alive, Aramide should be clocking 4 years old today. I remember the day he met his Maker and the details of his death as if it were yesterday, the sight of his bloodied body haunts me at night. There are days I wake up screaming from nightmares with his name in my mouth. "Aramide! Aramide! Don't go!" I would scream with my hands stretched as if to bring him back, then wake up with tear filled eyes and hands outstretched.  

No, I didn't stab him to death with a kitchen knife or anything gory like that. That fateful afternoon, my mother came from Owo to Lagos to see her grandchild, so we picked her up from the park. Aramide was in his car seat in the front seat, while my mother was at the back, he started crying while touching his left foot, my mother picked him up from his car seat so she can see what was pinching him in the foot.

She found that a hair strand was tied to his toe, I was surprised "How did that happen? I'm on low cut so that hair is definitely not mine" I replied

I can't remember the details of what happened next, I took off my eyes from the road for a minute to see the hair my mom was talking about and when I returned my eyes to the road, I saw I was running into the mouth of the incoming trailer, I skidded and went back to my lane, too late!

The car was off the road and it kept going until something stopped it. I blacked out.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself at the hospital and the first thing I asked was

"What happened?" "Where's my son"

The injury to me and my mom was mild because we were belted down, the look on my husband's face changed when I asked about our son.

He answered with a hoarse voice "Get well soon so you can see him"

"Well I'm fine now and I want to see him immediately" I said and immediately removed the needle supplying drips to my body, it stung but I couldn't feel the pain.

I just knew something wasn't right, something told me my baby is gone but I didn't want to believe it, before I could get out of the hospital bed, my husband held me back, "He's no more, Aramide is dead" he said and burst into tears.

I slumped and black out again. I woke up the third day, "Is she awake?"I could hear my mom saying weakly beside the bed. I woke up with tears in my eyes "We killed him, we did!" I kept saying.

I was discharged from the hospital but I never remained the same again, my mom was ridden with guilt too, she became terribly ill, and at her sick bed, she kept saying "I shouldn't have come here" I didn't dispute that, I kept hammering on "We killed her"

Needless to say, the guilt killed her, she died a week after the death of Ara and I became even more sad. I should have reassured her, I should have told her it's not her fault.

I know I didn't kill my mom, no, I didn't, she died of heartache, but my son died by my hand, if only I had made sure he was safely tucked in in his baby car seat, if only I had pulled over to examine what was hurting him, I would still have my sweet baby with me right now.

Now the boy keeps coming to me in my dreams, he keeps tormenting my soul, I want closure, I want to forget, but how can I when I see him in my waking and sleeping moments? I can't even try to get pregnant in this state of mind.

I don't want to die of heart-ache, I don't want to end up like my mom. How do I achieve closure, how do I tell myself it's not my fault? Please help!

                                                                                                                                                                               Derayo 

Please ensure your children wear seat belt while inside your car, share this article on Facebook, Twitter or Whatsapp so your friends can see the danger in not belting their child up when driving.

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