16/03/2026
I sent my son to Boarding School for 3 years, only for me to go to his school today, and they said he has díed 2 years ago, and no longer a student of the School!!
It’s still a shock to me! Because my son Obadiah usually comes back home even during holidays, very active and strong, no sign of sickness or bàd heaIth. I even asked those teachers that, if truly he was dèad, why didn’t they tell me? Which school doesn’t tell the Parents or Guardian of their child that’s deceased?
I left that SchooI with a mixture of fear, doubt, and ànger. As I got outside, I called my son Obadiah. He pícked, and I felt relieved. But as I mentioned the part that his school accused him of being dèad, he cùt the call. I tried calling him bàck, but he didn’t answer.
When I got home, I rushed to my room to message him. I wanted to send him a photo of the document the Principal showed me. But his profile picture disappeared. I sent a message, but it only showed one tick. He had blocked me on all messaging platforms.
“What’s happening? Díd I offend him? Why would he block me, his mother?” I cried, throwing my phone on the bed.
Obed, his younger brother, was sitting on the floor crying. He had heard everything.
“Mummy, is Brother Obadiah truly dèad?”
Obed asked, his voice shaking. “If he is dèad, who was the person that was sleeping in our room last December? We played games together. We ate from the same plate!”
“I don't know, Obed! I don't know!” I shouted, pacing up and down. “But he just blocked my number. Why would he do that if he is alive and well?”
“Mummy, maybe the school is hiding something,” Obed said, wiping his tears. “Go back there. Tell them to show you where he is.”
I couldn't stay in the house. The air felt heavy, like someone was watching me from the corners of the room. I drove back to that school with full speed. I matched into the Principal’s office again.
“Fine!” I screamed as I entered. “If you say my son is dead, show me his grave! Can you show me where my son was bùried? At least let me see it so I can believe you!”
The Principal looked at me with pity. She picked up her intercom and called the teacher who was in charge of Obadiah’s class back then.
“Mr. Benson, please come to my office now,” she said.
A few minutes later, a thin man with glasses walked in. He looked very nervous when he saw me.
“Mr. Benson, this is Obadiah’s mother,” the Principal said. “She wants to see the body or the grave. Tell her what happened.”
Mr. Benson cleared his throat. He couldn't look me in the eye. “Madam, please. It is a very sad story. Concerning late Obadiah... he didn't die here in the school. It was during the mid-term break two years ago. They sent us reports that the car he entered had a terrible accident on the way.”
I froze. “An accident? Why are you just telling me this now?”
“Madam, please listen,” Mr. Benson continued. “The accident was very bad. The car fell into a deep river. Up till now, the divers haven't seen or heard from the vehicle. No bodies were recovered. That’s why we’re really scared to inform you! we didn't know how to tell you that your son just... vanished.”
I stood there trying to compile all the rùbbish and shocking things I have been hearing.
“Wait,” I said, my voice trembling. “You say he died in an accident in a river. You say there is no body. But I am telling you that Obadiah comes home every holiday! He brought his result to me! Look at this!”
I pulled out the result sheet Obadiah gave me last term from my bag and slammed it on the desk.
The Principal picked up the result and frowned. “Madam... this is not our school’s result sheet. The logo is slightly different. And this signature... this teacher hasn't worked here in five years.”
My head started spinning.
My son díed but they can’t find his dèad body? He even BIocked me when I tried to tell him the issue on ground.
Can the school be telling lies?
Or has a spirit been living in my house for two years, eating my food and pretending to be my son?
May no mother experience this in Jesus name Amen 🙏
