Thread by @TundeTASH

JACK THE RACIST !!!!!

THREAD!

It wasn't until after 6 months, that I had moved from Lagos to Toronto that I started to feel lonely.

At first, I did not mind that I was living alone, as I had longed for my own space.

I had arrived in summer, so I visited some of the tourist centre in the GTA. From Niagara Falls, Scarborough Bluffs, CN Tower, Nathan Philips Square & to name a few.

After the excitement subsided, the cold began to creep in around October, and it came with it cold stings.

Cold stings that constantly reminded me that I was living alone. That I was lonely.

Two things that helped were work and attending church on Sundays. I attend a Redeemed church in the Mississauga area, and due to the large number of Nigerian attendees, I usually feel at home.

Work on the other hand, keeps me busy. Plus, the diversity exposes me to meeting different people from different backgrounds. People who I share a common goal with. People who are now my family so to speak.

I met Jack on a Saturday when I went to the animal shelter with my colleague, Rose. We had gone there to pick a dog for her.

I had noticed him looking at me from where he was with the manager of the shelter.

I am not really someone whose appearance gives a wow effect, but I suspected it was because of my afro which stood-out in the space that day.

Fast forward to 2months later, Jack was living in my apartment. I was happy as I could share my space.

Something I had longed for.

I like the way he looks at me, and you could tell he’s got the purest intentions towards me. “Jack Jack” as I fondly call him.

With his introduction in my life, it seemed he unlocked even more friendships for me in Toronto, and I was beginning to have different people visit.

For some reason however, my attendance to church began to diminish and I really can’t blame it on Jack.

I’d rather just stay home to do laundry on Sunday or stream my favourite shows on Netflix. Things I loved to do with Jack around.

Months later, I began to notice he always stayed in the room when my Nigerian, Kenyan or Ethopian friends came around. It was as though he couldn’t be around them.

He’d just stay in the room, and I couldn’t question what he was up to.

However, if my Caucasian friends came around, Jack would be in the living room with them. And you could tell he was excited.

I really did not mind but I noticed this went on for quite a while.

That was when I began to think to myself. Maybe Jack doesn’t really like my kind.

Maybe, just maybe for some reason, he is racist and he isn’t even aware of it.

Though, I always spoke to Jack about things first. I found myself almost having a conversation with the Uber driver that took me to church that morning.

I had spoken to my mum from Lagos the previous day and she had yelled at me for missing church for three straight weeks.

I was in Toronto, but I could feel the threat that came with her voice from the phone even though she was thousand of miles away 🙄.

On our way to church, the Uber driver had asked where I came from. Insinuating that someone from Nigeria like myself must have found Toronto busy & amusing. That it must have taken a while to adapt because of how fast paced it was. Telling me I must have had a huge culture shock.

But I wasn’t in the mood to school him.

To tell him I was from Lagos where the population is 8 times that of Toronto. That it is the 23rd most populous urban city in the world. That the only difference was the subway in Toronto and the constant power supply.

To tell him I had schooled in London and Belgium, where I had my masters and MBA respectively. To tell him I was very well traveled & conversant with developed cities.

To tell him I had not landed at the Airport with leaves around my waist and tribal paints all over my body.

I wanted to, but I shrugged and gave me him a cold ‘yes’. I also gave him a two star rating after the ride. Although, that did not make me forget why I had been worried about Jack.

That evening after returning from grocery shopping, I was tired and decided to take a nap.

Unfortunately, I had left the front door unlocked. Living in downtown is quite safe, but you can run out of luck as I had been warned by Rose.

Two masked men had come into the apartment and demanded that I gave them money and valuables. It was like a dream.

Money? In this cashless age? I was feeling cranky. Not because I had a 5.5 mm pistol pointing at me, but because my regular Sunday nap was interrupted 🙄.

One of the thieves ran out of patience. That was when he pulled the trigger. But not at me first.

Jack had made an attempt so he shot him. And as I moved towards him, he shot me too. My eyes were welcomed by bright lights when I opened them. Looking around at everything that seemed to glow and shine. From the floor to the pillars and gates.

I was in heaven.

I was surprised to have found myself there, but I was sure being in church that morning must have led to it. To my surprise however, Jack was also in heaven with me.

We walked into the hall and were asked to wait as we were told Jesus would come out soon to address everyone.

I knew I was in heaven so my eyes couldn’t have been deceiving me. There he was in afro, a gold cross chain dangling joyfully around his white robe, his skin darker than mine. He was black.

Basking in all the heavenly glory, floating as he moved in.

Jesus was black!

I looked at Jack but his face was expressionless. I did not know how to feel. What to say. Is this good or bad. As I summoned courage to ask one of the angels if who we had seen was indeed Jesus, I felt a hard knock on my head. A knock that jolted me from my sleep.

A knock caused by the falling of the lamp bedside my bed.

Jack my cat, my little “Jack-Jack” had been playing around the room when I was asleep and had brought me back from my dream. It was indeed a dream caused by a very restful nap after a tiresome grocery shopping.

Although, I would have loved if we were in heaven and found out what race Jesus was. I looked at Jack and smiled because it was such a relief that we were actually not robbed.

I wasn’t really worried if he were racist or not as it could be coincidental that he waltz into the room whenever my African friends came to visit.

That night, I had a lengthy phone call with my mum. She was happy I had gone to church, and to my surprise she did not trouble me of whether I had found a boyfriend or not.

She did not say she was anxiously waiting to have a son-in law.

And I made sure not to mention that I had a white cat called Jack.

A religious African mum like mine would have told me cats are evil and can be possessed by demons. Demons that can prevent me from finding my future husband.

My name is Doyinsola and I love Jack-Jack as he is always there to welcome me home. Until I find my future husband, Jack is always there to welcome me home.

💕