To most of my friends in and out of school, my dad was and still remains an enigma.
My mom, they know.
However, to catch a glimpse of my dad was like to see a rare sight- like hail in Nigeria or something along those lines.
Hence, anytime they heard my dad would be coming- to pick me up, drop me off, or would be in our general vicinity, they lay in wait.
They would hide themselves in a corner and watch as I approached him.
Afterwards, they would comment along the lines of how tall he was and how much I looked like him.
Some would gather courage to greet him face to face after a long while (and plenty prodding from me).
Others never gathered the courage.
No matter which they chose eventually, they treated his appearances almost like he was a superstar.
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