My name is Victor Chimaobi Nwangwu, fondly called 'Chima' by my mom and close friends. I am a Catholic Seminarian of the diocese of Okigwe in Imo state Nigeria. My choice to become a priest was not welcomed by my father at first because I am the only son, the night I told him isn't one I will forget in a hurry, my shadow walked before me as I staggered through the thick darkness in a bid to find my father’s room. The room was adjacent to the parlour, the space that served as a corridor was narrow and only the spark of light from the kerosene lamp gleamed. He was about to turn the lights off when I pulled the curtain with my left arm and slid a part of my body into the room. “Wait dad!” I said, he straightened up and cast a stern gaze on me, “ehe, ogini?” his face was up, only the white part of his eyes showed in the dark, he gently removed his hand from the lamp, sat down at the edge of the bed and crossed his legs. I was still standing not knowing how to let the words out, each time I tried speaking my tongue seemed to cleave to my palate. I breathed in and while I puffed out the dry air, the words drizzled with it, “I------ I want to continue in the seminary”(I attended a minor Seminary). I knew in the silence that followed, that I had taken away sleep from his eyes. The silence was intense, long, and I noticed his shadow had stopped moving, the gentle breeze of the night blew across the lamp and the flame danced and flickered. “What?” he asked, his voice was hoisted gently, his chest broadened and he parted his legs. I tried looking away but each time I did his eyes caressed my body as I stood there motionless. “I said I want to continue in the seminary,” I repeated, “you mean you want to be a priest?” he asked, “yes” I responded, “that is impossible, you cannot be a priest, no!” By the time he turned and looked at me, his eyes were red. “What will happen to the exams you have taken?”(I had taken utme) “what about the plan to become an engineer?” he was come closer to me now, the air from his nose was damp and hot. He placed his right hand on my shoulders, the red eyes were now wet “Nna you cannot be a priest, no you cannot” he withdrew in a jiffy and flattened back on the bed. I thought of going closer to him and telling him I had changed my mind, but the heaviness of my heart pulled me back. Later that week, he accepted that I should continue and blessed me. Today I am a year closer to the priesthood.
I love writing, reading and drawing. I also paint in my liesure , for the most part I draw with pencils, charcoal or graphite.
I speak English and French.