(By Jude Idada) - ... I once had a friend, who my father never liked....
He
had met him once when he came with my other friends, for a Christmas party my
father had thrown.
At
the time I couldn't understand his dislike, because we all loved this friend
and would do anything for him.
He was our world.
I
never knew my father had been watching us that day as we sat in a group, with
this friend standing, having our own party while the older and even oldest ones
partied in the bigger party that surrounded us.
My
friend had promptly left when something someone had said rubbed him wrongly.
The
others followed.
I
attempted to also follow, but my father called me back at the gate.
"Where
are you going to?"
