Strayed to Straight - by Inioluwa Adeyeye

I Once Strayed For context, I’m the firstborn ,the one who came before the noise, before the chaos of younger siblings. Before I veered off course, I was my father’s golden child. Some would even call me his miracle baby. My father is a strict man, quick to train with the rod. His words could slash sharper than any cane, cutting into me at every turn in my life. I didn’t like him very much, though I craved his approval more than anything. Deep down, I found a strange kind of joy in his laughter ,because on the days he laughed, no one got hurt. I knew I was the golden child when I finished secondary school. While my mates talked about continuing their studies abroad, my father was making plans for me to go too. It wasn’t one of those promises that dissolve into air ,it was real, it was happening. Preparation went by so quickly that before I knew it, I was in New Brunswick, Canada, ready to begin my university education. My father traveled with me, and when it was time for him to leave, there were tears on both sides. That was the first time I ever saw my father cry and, unfortunately, not the last. Back in Nigeria, he told anyone who cared to listen that his baby was studying in Canada. He was proud , so proud ,and I could feel it even from across the ocean. But as time went on, communication between us became strained. I grew distant, closed off, sinking quietly into myself. That was the beginning of my downward spiral. I was crashing emotionally, mentally, and academically. My CGPA was nothing to write home about, and I couldn’t hold a job. My father had invested so much in me, his “golden egg,” but I was rotting under the weight of his expectations and my own failures. And the worst part? I couldn’t tell my parents what was happening. I tried to hide it as best as I could, but nothing stays hidden forever. I made excuses, told half-truths, and hoped time would bury the rest. But somehow, my father gained access to my results and he saw everything. The pain in his eyes during that phone call in 2023 was undeniable. I had betrayed a man who had placed his full confidence in me. I was cooked. He told me, point blank, that I was coming back home. “I took you there,” he said, “and I will come and pick you up myself.” And he did. When we met again in Canada, it was our first time seeing each other in a long while. For two whole hours, we forgot about the disappointment, the shame, the failure. He held me and cried because the child he sent away wasn’t the one standing before him. Still, in that moment, he chose forgiveness. He decided to give my education a second chance. Now, I’m a 300-level Social Work student at Redeemer’s University not because I was perfect, but because my father forgave me. We still talk about his expectations, and though I once strayed, I’m finding my way back slowly, steadily. And I hope, someday soon, to make him proud again. Looking back, I realize that straying wasn’t the end of my story it was the beginning of understanding what love and forgiveness truly mean. My father’s tears once broke me, but now they remind me that even the strongest hearts can bend without breaking. I’ve learned that failure doesn’t erase worth, and distance doesn’t erase love. Sometimes, it takes falling apart to discover who’s willing to help you rebuild. My father’s forgiveness became my second chance ,not just at education, but at life itself. I once strayed, yes. But I’m walking home now one honest step at a time.

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