EPISODE 9
Having said that, Mum stood up and left my room with annoyance written all over her face.
My headache came again. I lay on my back in bed. I did not care about what Dad might also say about him when he returned from the office.
****
About three weeks later, I was no longer myself in the house. Over the weeks I had been feeling all sorts of illnesses. I would feel feverish in the morning, and before mid-day I would regain my health. Sometimes, the fever would be replaced with a short-lived dizziness. I thought it was the memory of the incident that was causing it. Or could it be because I hadn’t seen Festus for a while? We had only been communicating through BBM and voice call. That wasn’t enough. I felt like sitting next to him every day. Exam was still in progress. If not, I would have organized a date somewhere around my home.
Dad and Mum even contributed to my sickness every day. They would keep reminding me about Alfred’s arrival. Now his arrival was two days’ time. After too much pressure from Dad I pretended as if I accepted Alfred. Mum had given me his phone number and Facebook ID. They would ask me to speak with him on phone in their presence, and they would be smiling with fulfillment. I did not like to see my parents getting downcast because of me. But I knew I would find a way to avoid Alfred’s relationship. They could only impose a man on me. “Is it possible to force my heart on him?” Dad insisted on sending me to Harvard university two months’ time. I didn’t think that would be possible, but I did not object to it. I thought my parents were looking for a way to separate me from the man of my heart. I had to come up with my own plan soonest.
****
Mum asked our driver to take me to Amigo super market for the latest designers and new set of jewelry. Before setting out I went straight to the bar to take a cupful of wine. As I was pouring the wine, the single goblet started multiplying in my eyes …. into two, three, four, five, six until I could see it no more. I could see nothing, but a blank misty space. I thought I was feeling sleepy. Like a burning candle, my legs began to melt away; not supporting my weight any longer. I felt my body lowering to the ground like a falling tree.
The crash of broken glasses jerked me back to consciousness. I was lying weak on the floor, my yellow gown soaked with a red wine, and all around me were shards of a broken goblet. An alarming noise came from our maid. Three security guards rushed inside to lift me on the couch. Mum and Dad had gone for an occasion, but I heard the maid calling them on phone after calling the guards to help me.
To my greatest surprise, Mum came back with the family doctor, Dr. Maxwell. I glared at Mum as she asked the doctor to start examining me. I did not think my dizziness was something serious to deserve a medical attention. Dr. Maxwell finally told Mum that I needed to rest well, but I must come to the hospital on the following day with a sample of my early morning urine.
****
I had been awaiting Dr. Maxwell in his office for over thirty minutes after tendering the urine sample . After a while he came back with a smile on his face. He gave me a folded paper as a result of the conducted test.
“Sir, is it malaria or fever?” I asked impatiently.
“Sharon, I would like you to see for yourself.”
Anyway, If it was not a fever it might be another sickness entirely. Utterly confused, I was unfolding the paper with hesitation. Our doctor had never, in any circumstances, given me a folded paper before announcing my symptoms to me.
When I eventually revealed the content, my heart skipped a beat. PREGNANCY TEST RESULT – three weeks pregnant!
I grabbed my chest as if to prevent my pounding heart from breaking out.
“Is this result for me, sir?” I showed the paper to Dr. Maxwell in devastation.
“Yes, you can see your name on it,” he nodded and smiled again, his eyes popping out behind his spectacles. I felt like slapping the smile off his face. Why must he mock my misfortune?
“I am in trouble, sir.” My voice trembled.
“Trouble, in what way?” He said, his brows creasing with confusion.
“I’m still a student. I’m not ready for this … please, sir .. sir, can … can you … Is there any drug you could give me to flush the pregnancy away, since it’s still early?”
Dr. Maxwell looked angry after my statement. He said I must not take any action on the pregnancy until my parents heard about it.
“As far as I’m concerned,” he continued, “I don’t think your parents will ever allow you to take such a risk.”
I sighed with distress. This pregnancy was just a mixed feeling for me. It was unfortunate and disgraceful that I conceived at the wrong time. Again, I felt it would prevent my parents from imposing Alfred on me.
I felt the vibration of my phone in my jeans trousers. It was Festus’ call. He was calling at the right time. I must tell him about the pregnancy there and then.
“Hello! Festus, there is a pro…”
“Sorry to interrupt you,” Festus said abruptly, sounding a bit nervous, “I have to tell you this. I told you about Lizzy, my ex-girlfriend, right?”
“Yeah, you did. What about her?”
“The girl has been pregnant for over three months now. And she told all her friends that … that … that….”
“That what?”
“…that I was responsible for it. Although….”
“She said what!” My voice thundered with shock.
Having said that, Mum stood up and left my room with annoyance written all over her face.
My headache came again. I lay on my back in bed. I did not care about what Dad might also say about him when he returned from the office.
****
About three weeks later, I was no longer myself in the house. Over the weeks I had been feeling all sorts of illnesses. I would feel feverish in the morning, and before mid-day I would regain my health. Sometimes, the fever would be replaced with a short-lived dizziness. I thought it was the memory of the incident that was causing it. Or could it be because I hadn’t seen Festus for a while? We had only been communicating through BBM and voice call. That wasn’t enough. I felt like sitting next to him every day. Exam was still in progress. If not, I would have organized a date somewhere around my home.
Dad and Mum even contributed to my sickness every day. They would keep reminding me about Alfred’s arrival. Now his arrival was two days’ time. After too much pressure from Dad I pretended as if I accepted Alfred. Mum had given me his phone number and Facebook ID. They would ask me to speak with him on phone in their presence, and they would be smiling with fulfillment. I did not like to see my parents getting downcast because of me. But I knew I would find a way to avoid Alfred’s relationship. They could only impose a man on me. “Is it possible to force my heart on him?” Dad insisted on sending me to Harvard university two months’ time. I didn’t think that would be possible, but I did not object to it. I thought my parents were looking for a way to separate me from the man of my heart. I had to come up with my own plan soonest.
****
Mum asked our driver to take me to Amigo super market for the latest designers and new set of jewelry. Before setting out I went straight to the bar to take a cupful of wine. As I was pouring the wine, the single goblet started multiplying in my eyes …. into two, three, four, five, six until I could see it no more. I could see nothing, but a blank misty space. I thought I was feeling sleepy. Like a burning candle, my legs began to melt away; not supporting my weight any longer. I felt my body lowering to the ground like a falling tree.
The crash of broken glasses jerked me back to consciousness. I was lying weak on the floor, my yellow gown soaked with a red wine, and all around me were shards of a broken goblet. An alarming noise came from our maid. Three security guards rushed inside to lift me on the couch. Mum and Dad had gone for an occasion, but I heard the maid calling them on phone after calling the guards to help me.
To my greatest surprise, Mum came back with the family doctor, Dr. Maxwell. I glared at Mum as she asked the doctor to start examining me. I did not think my dizziness was something serious to deserve a medical attention. Dr. Maxwell finally told Mum that I needed to rest well, but I must come to the hospital on the following day with a sample of my early morning urine.
****
I had been awaiting Dr. Maxwell in his office for over thirty minutes after tendering the urine sample . After a while he came back with a smile on his face. He gave me a folded paper as a result of the conducted test.
“Sir, is it malaria or fever?” I asked impatiently.
“Sharon, I would like you to see for yourself.”
Anyway, If it was not a fever it might be another sickness entirely. Utterly confused, I was unfolding the paper with hesitation. Our doctor had never, in any circumstances, given me a folded paper before announcing my symptoms to me.
When I eventually revealed the content, my heart skipped a beat. PREGNANCY TEST RESULT – three weeks pregnant!
I grabbed my chest as if to prevent my pounding heart from breaking out.
“Is this result for me, sir?” I showed the paper to Dr. Maxwell in devastation.
“Yes, you can see your name on it,” he nodded and smiled again, his eyes popping out behind his spectacles. I felt like slapping the smile off his face. Why must he mock my misfortune?
“I am in trouble, sir.” My voice trembled.
“Trouble, in what way?” He said, his brows creasing with confusion.
“I’m still a student. I’m not ready for this … please, sir .. sir, can … can you … Is there any drug you could give me to flush the pregnancy away, since it’s still early?”
Dr. Maxwell looked angry after my statement. He said I must not take any action on the pregnancy until my parents heard about it.
“As far as I’m concerned,” he continued, “I don’t think your parents will ever allow you to take such a risk.”
I sighed with distress. This pregnancy was just a mixed feeling for me. It was unfortunate and disgraceful that I conceived at the wrong time. Again, I felt it would prevent my parents from imposing Alfred on me.
I felt the vibration of my phone in my jeans trousers. It was Festus’ call. He was calling at the right time. I must tell him about the pregnancy there and then.
“Hello! Festus, there is a pro…”
“Sorry to interrupt you,” Festus said abruptly, sounding a bit nervous, “I have to tell you this. I told you about Lizzy, my ex-girlfriend, right?”
“Yeah, you did. What about her?”
“The girl has been pregnant for over three months now. And she told all her friends that … that … that….”
“That what?”
“…that I was responsible for it. Although….”
“She said what!” My voice thundered with shock.
EPISODE 10
As if the phone had turned a live wire, my hand began to vibrate violently and the phone fell off my hand; I was shivering as though an iced water was poured on my body. I quickly picked the phone up, trying to compose myself. Dr. Maxwell looked startled and puzzled at my outburst.
“What is wrong?”
“Not…not…nothing, sir,” my voice disappointed me as much as I tried regaining composure.
It was as if an invisible hammer was banging on my head in a quick succession. The phone was ringing again – Festus was calling back. How would I tell him I was also pregnant? Oh, what a misfortune …. what a mess have I gotten myself into? I dropped the phone and hunched over the table with my hands supporting my cheeks. I was trying to fight back the tears that was pricking within my eyes.
“You haven’t answered my question, Sharon.” Dr. Maxwell’s voice raised with curiosity.
“Nothing, sir.” I said, shaking my head. Now my eyes became pregnant with burning tears. I couldn’t help it, but let it roll over my cheeks and splash on the table.
I brought out a white hankie from my handbag and wiped away the stream on my face and those on the office table
“I have to leave now,” I said in a plain voice as I stood up, adjusting my cloth, “it’s a confidential matter … And I wish you wouldn’t t let my parents know about this pregnancy for now.”
“Oh, I am afraid, I can’t assure you of that,” he said with a naughty smirk, while adjusting his eye-glasses, “ I’ve been working with your parents for over 15 years, and I can’t afford to ruin my reputation by concealing your true symptom.”
On hearing that, I didn’t utter a word. I picked up my handbag and slammed the door behind me. When I got inside the car I made up my mind to tell Festus once and for all. I brought out my phone, wondering if to text him or call him. The present situation was a bitter dilemma. Would I become a rival with Elizabeth if eventually she gave birth? Dr. Maxwell was right. My parents wouldn’t allow me to do anything that would risk my life as the only fruit on their tree. The solitary fruit that must not be harvested by fingers of the greedy wind, which is untimely death… I wish to carry Festus’ baby in my womb, but this was too early. And It was not Festus’ fault in anyway… I caused it. As a woman, I was supposed to ask him to use a protection, but I had failed to… I failed because of the sex drive that had overwhelmed me.
“Hell to that imprudent sex drive!” I said, my eyes loading with tears again, “why on earth did I do this to myself? Whyyyyyyyyy!”my voice broke off into a sob. I thought for a while and I concluded on using a voice call.
“Sharon, I… I’m so sorry about that,“ Festus said immediately the call went through, “You didn’t let me explain how it all happened before you terminated the call earlier on.”
“Festus, just listen to what I’m about to say,” I said in a low mournful tone, “I was in our family doctor’s office when your call came in. The doctor just confirmed that I’m three weeks pregnant.”
“You…you…you…d…don’t…mean it!” His voice staggered as if he had a lump in his throat; he was apparently shocked. Then his voice sank with a notable pressure, “You’re really pregnant…Serious or joking?”
“Festus, I am not joking. I’m very confused right now.”
“Why is all these happening? Why my God?” I managed to hear Festus’ fading voice. I was not sure if he was still handling the phone because his voice had receded to the background with lament.
“Hello! Hello!! Are you there?” I asked, but there was no response. I waited until about a minute before I heard his voice clearly again.
“Baby, I really want you to carry my child in your womb, but this’s not the right time,” Festus’ voice sounded very grave, but somehow tearful, “I don’t know if God is inflicting punishment on me with this Elizabeth of a girl. I don’t want her … I hate her! Although, I am not sure if I’m really responsible for the pregnancy until a test is carried out on the baby when she gives birth. So, what do we do about it?”
“I don’t know. The doctor is going to tell my parents and…and…..” my voice trailed off in anguish.
“Talk to me, baby. ”
“…my parents might not allow me to abort it.”
The next thing I heard was a long loud breath. He said he didn’t want me to abort the pregnancy either, and neither did he want me to get hurt because of him. I smiled to myself. Maybe he was afraid because of what he heard from Kingsley. He concluded that we should put everything in God’s hand since the situation was beyond our control. Quietly, I prayed that the baby in Elizabeth’s womb wouldn’t share the same gene with Festus during DNA test. If I was going to be a rival with a girl; not even a useless and arrogant girl like Lizzy.
****
On the following day Alfred arrived at exactly 11: 27 am. I could see him getting out of a land rover jeep through the security monitor in my room. Mum and Dad had already known about my pregnancy. Dr. Maxwell already told them on phone even before I got home with the result on the previous day. Throughout the night I was reproached severely by Dad and Mum for being careless with myself and selling myself cheap to a nonentity. Inevitably, my parents didn’t dare to talk about abortion. Dad had insisted on transferring me to our house in the UK in two months’ time. I would give birth to the baby and further my education there. But nothing was said about Festus. Perhaps they wanted me to give birth to the child and later get married to Alfred as planned. I didn’t believe Alfred could come here after Dad had told him last night that I was pregnant. He had spoken with Dad for about twenty minutes, and I supposed he’d agreed to marry me with the pregnancy. If not, how would he come here today?
The knock I heard on the door stirred me out of my thought. I rolled down gently from the bed to open the door.
“Omalicha nwa! Are you still sleeping?” Mum asked before I could open the door, “you need to dress up. Alfred is here.” She said as I opened the door.
“I know,” I turned away, folding my arms across my chests, a defiant grimace on my face, “ I’m coming.”
“Why are you behaving like this, Sharon?” Mum chided me. She would address me by my real name whenever she was annoyed with me. She would either call, ‘Treasure’ or ‘Omalicha nwa’ (beautiful baby) “Despite that you’re pregnant, Alfred insisted on getting married to you. Don’t you know that a man would only agree to marry you with pregnancy if he has a true love for you? That…that wretched boy purposely impregnated you because of your father’s wealth. Over my dead body will you marry that gold digger!”
“Mum, Festus does not act like a gold digger,” I said firmly, still turning my back at her, “in fact, I have tested him on that severally, and he passed all my test. He loved me regardless of my father’s….”
“Will you shut up your filthy mouth!” Mum interrupted me, and mimicked all I had just said in a slurring and irritating manner, “what has come over you? That boy must have used something on you, because you brain seems to have turned upside down. If you like come downstairs, If you like stay there.” With that, Mum left my room.
In a little while, after dressing in a yellow skimpy skirt and armless blue top, I made towards the stairs to attend to my fake fiancée. He was sitting comfortably in the couch, a black suit on his huge dark-skinned figure, his mouth turning agape as he saw me climbing down the stairs. He rose to his feet with a look of surprise on his face. I put on a smile as I walked towards him.
“Oh, see you, you’re so big!” Alfred exclaimed , spreading his arms apart as if to measure my frame, “I wouldn’t have recognized you if not for your pics on Facebook,” he turned to my parents between his fresh mirth and said, “and she is just as beautiful as ever.” With that, my parents burst out laughing at the opposite couch, their faces beaming with bliss like a full moon.
“Thanks. You’re looking good too.” I said as I embraced him.
Sitting close to Alfred in the couch, I began to search my brain thoroughly for all I could ask him to feign interest in him, just to deceive my parents. I did not want to be defiant in Dad’s presence. I asked about his trip and his business in New york.
“Thank you, baby, glory be to God. Business is moving on fine,” he said fervently, rubbing his palms together. He began to blab on about the harshness of Nigeria climate in comparison to the one abroad. And he finally remarked that he would never allow our child to stay in Nigeria. Just as my brows furrowed in puzzlement, he added, “I mean the children we gonna have after our engagement in the US.”
On hearing that, I masked my bitter feeling with a broad smile. How sure was he that I was going to marry him, let alone having babies with him?
One of our maids, a slender teenage girl, placed two bottles of whisky and wine glasses beside the flower vase on the center table. Dad and Mum stood up at that moment.
“Feel at home and have fun, my son,” Mum said as she made towards the kitchen while Dad went upstairs, “the food will be ready very soon. You’re going to have an African taste today.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Alfred mouthed, a smile of fulfillment on his face.
When it was only me and Alfred in the sitting room, a thought surged into my mind. I needed to let him realize that I never had a single feeling for him. But how would I do that in a polite manner? Now Alfred was staring intensely at me. I was avoiding his gaze by searching endlessly through my phone.
Alfred cleared his throat and said, “So, how is….”
“Oh, Sorry, I have some things to discuss with you,” I intentionally broke into his speech.
“Go ahead, feel free,” Alfred said, waving his hands to urge me, while adjusting the collar of his suit.
I asked him if he was familiar with adage and parables, and he nodded affirmatively.
With that, I adjusted on my seat and turned to him. I started by gesticulating with my hands like a counselor, “Let’s assume you ’re riding a horse to a long journey, and suddenly you see a stream nearby…You decide to stop in order to feed your thirsty horse since the next couple of miles is a desert. If you get to the stream, and your horse refuses to drink, what would you do?”
“That means the horse is not thirsty. I will just take her away and embark on my journey.”
“But if I were you, I would pull the horse’ mouth and force it to drink,”
“Hell no!” He glowered at me as if I was a witch,” That would be so ridiculous and barbaric!”
“Really?”
“Yes, of course.” He said, wearing a look of assurance.
“That is exactly what my parents are doing to me.”
“How?”
In a low one, I explained to him that I was the horse, while my parents represented the rider who wanted to take a horse to the stream and force it to drink.
I took a long breath, tilted my head and continued gently, “The fact is that I already have a lover and he is the one responsible for my pregnancy. I…I don’t want to waste your time … my parents want me to get married to you, but my heart is for someone else. ”
When I revealed my face to look at Alfred, there was a shocking look in eyes. I could hear his breaths pulling and dragging spasmodically.
As if the phone had turned a live wire, my hand began to vibrate violently and the phone fell off my hand; I was shivering as though an iced water was poured on my body. I quickly picked the phone up, trying to compose myself. Dr. Maxwell looked startled and puzzled at my outburst.
“What is wrong?”
“Not…not…nothing, sir,” my voice disappointed me as much as I tried regaining composure.
It was as if an invisible hammer was banging on my head in a quick succession. The phone was ringing again – Festus was calling back. How would I tell him I was also pregnant? Oh, what a misfortune …. what a mess have I gotten myself into? I dropped the phone and hunched over the table with my hands supporting my cheeks. I was trying to fight back the tears that was pricking within my eyes.
“You haven’t answered my question, Sharon.” Dr. Maxwell’s voice raised with curiosity.
“Nothing, sir.” I said, shaking my head. Now my eyes became pregnant with burning tears. I couldn’t help it, but let it roll over my cheeks and splash on the table.
I brought out a white hankie from my handbag and wiped away the stream on my face and those on the office table
“I have to leave now,” I said in a plain voice as I stood up, adjusting my cloth, “it’s a confidential matter … And I wish you wouldn’t t let my parents know about this pregnancy for now.”
“Oh, I am afraid, I can’t assure you of that,” he said with a naughty smirk, while adjusting his eye-glasses, “ I’ve been working with your parents for over 15 years, and I can’t afford to ruin my reputation by concealing your true symptom.”
On hearing that, I didn’t utter a word. I picked up my handbag and slammed the door behind me. When I got inside the car I made up my mind to tell Festus once and for all. I brought out my phone, wondering if to text him or call him. The present situation was a bitter dilemma. Would I become a rival with Elizabeth if eventually she gave birth? Dr. Maxwell was right. My parents wouldn’t allow me to do anything that would risk my life as the only fruit on their tree. The solitary fruit that must not be harvested by fingers of the greedy wind, which is untimely death… I wish to carry Festus’ baby in my womb, but this was too early. And It was not Festus’ fault in anyway… I caused it. As a woman, I was supposed to ask him to use a protection, but I had failed to… I failed because of the sex drive that had overwhelmed me.
“Hell to that imprudent sex drive!” I said, my eyes loading with tears again, “why on earth did I do this to myself? Whyyyyyyyyy!”my voice broke off into a sob. I thought for a while and I concluded on using a voice call.
“Sharon, I… I’m so sorry about that,“ Festus said immediately the call went through, “You didn’t let me explain how it all happened before you terminated the call earlier on.”
“Festus, just listen to what I’m about to say,” I said in a low mournful tone, “I was in our family doctor’s office when your call came in. The doctor just confirmed that I’m three weeks pregnant.”
“You…you…you…d…don’t…mean it!” His voice staggered as if he had a lump in his throat; he was apparently shocked. Then his voice sank with a notable pressure, “You’re really pregnant…Serious or joking?”
“Festus, I am not joking. I’m very confused right now.”
“Why is all these happening? Why my God?” I managed to hear Festus’ fading voice. I was not sure if he was still handling the phone because his voice had receded to the background with lament.
“Hello! Hello!! Are you there?” I asked, but there was no response. I waited until about a minute before I heard his voice clearly again.
“Baby, I really want you to carry my child in your womb, but this’s not the right time,” Festus’ voice sounded very grave, but somehow tearful, “I don’t know if God is inflicting punishment on me with this Elizabeth of a girl. I don’t want her … I hate her! Although, I am not sure if I’m really responsible for the pregnancy until a test is carried out on the baby when she gives birth. So, what do we do about it?”
“I don’t know. The doctor is going to tell my parents and…and…..” my voice trailed off in anguish.
“Talk to me, baby. ”
“…my parents might not allow me to abort it.”
The next thing I heard was a long loud breath. He said he didn’t want me to abort the pregnancy either, and neither did he want me to get hurt because of him. I smiled to myself. Maybe he was afraid because of what he heard from Kingsley. He concluded that we should put everything in God’s hand since the situation was beyond our control. Quietly, I prayed that the baby in Elizabeth’s womb wouldn’t share the same gene with Festus during DNA test. If I was going to be a rival with a girl; not even a useless and arrogant girl like Lizzy.
****
On the following day Alfred arrived at exactly 11: 27 am. I could see him getting out of a land rover jeep through the security monitor in my room. Mum and Dad had already known about my pregnancy. Dr. Maxwell already told them on phone even before I got home with the result on the previous day. Throughout the night I was reproached severely by Dad and Mum for being careless with myself and selling myself cheap to a nonentity. Inevitably, my parents didn’t dare to talk about abortion. Dad had insisted on transferring me to our house in the UK in two months’ time. I would give birth to the baby and further my education there. But nothing was said about Festus. Perhaps they wanted me to give birth to the child and later get married to Alfred as planned. I didn’t believe Alfred could come here after Dad had told him last night that I was pregnant. He had spoken with Dad for about twenty minutes, and I supposed he’d agreed to marry me with the pregnancy. If not, how would he come here today?
The knock I heard on the door stirred me out of my thought. I rolled down gently from the bed to open the door.
“Omalicha nwa! Are you still sleeping?” Mum asked before I could open the door, “you need to dress up. Alfred is here.” She said as I opened the door.
“I know,” I turned away, folding my arms across my chests, a defiant grimace on my face, “ I’m coming.”
“Why are you behaving like this, Sharon?” Mum chided me. She would address me by my real name whenever she was annoyed with me. She would either call, ‘Treasure’ or ‘Omalicha nwa’ (beautiful baby) “Despite that you’re pregnant, Alfred insisted on getting married to you. Don’t you know that a man would only agree to marry you with pregnancy if he has a true love for you? That…that wretched boy purposely impregnated you because of your father’s wealth. Over my dead body will you marry that gold digger!”
“Mum, Festus does not act like a gold digger,” I said firmly, still turning my back at her, “in fact, I have tested him on that severally, and he passed all my test. He loved me regardless of my father’s….”
“Will you shut up your filthy mouth!” Mum interrupted me, and mimicked all I had just said in a slurring and irritating manner, “what has come over you? That boy must have used something on you, because you brain seems to have turned upside down. If you like come downstairs, If you like stay there.” With that, Mum left my room.
In a little while, after dressing in a yellow skimpy skirt and armless blue top, I made towards the stairs to attend to my fake fiancée. He was sitting comfortably in the couch, a black suit on his huge dark-skinned figure, his mouth turning agape as he saw me climbing down the stairs. He rose to his feet with a look of surprise on his face. I put on a smile as I walked towards him.
“Oh, see you, you’re so big!” Alfred exclaimed , spreading his arms apart as if to measure my frame, “I wouldn’t have recognized you if not for your pics on Facebook,” he turned to my parents between his fresh mirth and said, “and she is just as beautiful as ever.” With that, my parents burst out laughing at the opposite couch, their faces beaming with bliss like a full moon.
“Thanks. You’re looking good too.” I said as I embraced him.
Sitting close to Alfred in the couch, I began to search my brain thoroughly for all I could ask him to feign interest in him, just to deceive my parents. I did not want to be defiant in Dad’s presence. I asked about his trip and his business in New york.
“Thank you, baby, glory be to God. Business is moving on fine,” he said fervently, rubbing his palms together. He began to blab on about the harshness of Nigeria climate in comparison to the one abroad. And he finally remarked that he would never allow our child to stay in Nigeria. Just as my brows furrowed in puzzlement, he added, “I mean the children we gonna have after our engagement in the US.”
On hearing that, I masked my bitter feeling with a broad smile. How sure was he that I was going to marry him, let alone having babies with him?
One of our maids, a slender teenage girl, placed two bottles of whisky and wine glasses beside the flower vase on the center table. Dad and Mum stood up at that moment.
“Feel at home and have fun, my son,” Mum said as she made towards the kitchen while Dad went upstairs, “the food will be ready very soon. You’re going to have an African taste today.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Alfred mouthed, a smile of fulfillment on his face.
When it was only me and Alfred in the sitting room, a thought surged into my mind. I needed to let him realize that I never had a single feeling for him. But how would I do that in a polite manner? Now Alfred was staring intensely at me. I was avoiding his gaze by searching endlessly through my phone.
Alfred cleared his throat and said, “So, how is….”
“Oh, Sorry, I have some things to discuss with you,” I intentionally broke into his speech.
“Go ahead, feel free,” Alfred said, waving his hands to urge me, while adjusting the collar of his suit.
I asked him if he was familiar with adage and parables, and he nodded affirmatively.
With that, I adjusted on my seat and turned to him. I started by gesticulating with my hands like a counselor, “Let’s assume you ’re riding a horse to a long journey, and suddenly you see a stream nearby…You decide to stop in order to feed your thirsty horse since the next couple of miles is a desert. If you get to the stream, and your horse refuses to drink, what would you do?”
“That means the horse is not thirsty. I will just take her away and embark on my journey.”
“But if I were you, I would pull the horse’ mouth and force it to drink,”
“Hell no!” He glowered at me as if I was a witch,” That would be so ridiculous and barbaric!”
“Really?”
“Yes, of course.” He said, wearing a look of assurance.
“That is exactly what my parents are doing to me.”
“How?”
In a low one, I explained to him that I was the horse, while my parents represented the rider who wanted to take a horse to the stream and force it to drink.
I took a long breath, tilted my head and continued gently, “The fact is that I already have a lover and he is the one responsible for my pregnancy. I…I don’t want to waste your time … my parents want me to get married to you, but my heart is for someone else. ”
When I revealed my face to look at Alfred, there was a shocking look in eyes. I could hear his breaths pulling and dragging spasmodically.
“And w…why…why didn’t you tell
me all these while?”
“I couldn’t.” I shook my head from side to side, “I don’t know how to tell you.”
Alfred sighed, glaring at me in disgust, “ I can’t just believe this! I just have to leave.” He jerked to his feet like a soldier and picked up his car keys from the table.
I didn’t say any word. He stopped abruptly at the doorway, turning to look at me, his eyes were as red as a glowing coal in a dying fire.
“Aunty Sharon, the food is ready o,” I heard our maid’s voice from the dinning, “Is oga going? Come and eat your food before you go!”
“Who is going?” Mum asked all the way from the kitchen. Before Mum could get out, Alfred had pulled his car towards the road that led to the gate. Mum asked me why he left without informing anyone.
“He left something at home,” I said plainly, while filling the two wine glasses, “he will be back shortly.” I covered my mouth to suppress the hiccup in my throat.
“Are you sure of what you’re saying? At least he would’ve just informed me.”
“I think that would be a waste of time, Mum,” I smiled. “ Don’t worry, your son-in law will be back soon. Okay?” I winked at Mum playfully. Mum smiled back at me.
****
During the night Dad became very angry with me. He was aware of all I said to Alfred through Mr. Peters, Alfred’s father. Alfred had refused to receive Dad’s call until around 7pm when Mr. Peters called and expressed how disappointed he was. I saw Dad pleading with Mr. Peters on phone that I didn’t mean what I said to his son. I began to wonder if there was something else behind my marriage to Alfred.
About 10pm I decided to take my used cloths to the washing machine at the third floor. I could hear arguing voices coming from the exterior balcony which was very close to the laundry room. It was Mum and Dad. I crept to the corridor. I peeked at them and hid myself by the door, soft drinks on the table before them. I wanted to know what the argument was all about.
“I don’t want this child to transfer the wealth on her to that wretched boy!” Dad said, “you know that any man that wins her heart is a lucky man forever. If the person is poor, he will become very rich in a blink of an eye once he starts staying under the same roof with her.”
“Yes … I know; according to her destiny,” said Mum.
“And you know Peter’s effort before this girl could stay alive back then. I just wish to marry my fortunate daughter to his son; just to pay him for his effort.”
“So, what do we do when she is blindly in love with Festus, en? Me I am tired of all this o.” Mum said in a nagging tone.
“I have to act fast on that…maybe I should separate them spiritually when physical effort is not working.”
I felt my heart struck having heard that. Spiritual effort? Many questions needed answers in my head. What effort did Alfred’s father make to keep me alive?
“Dad, I have overheard you!” I cried as I appeared to them at the balcony, “I would rather commit suicide!”
EPISODE 11
The glass of juice in Dad’s hand sloshed on his body as he looked at me in dismay. Mum’s eyes widened and flashed brightly like the spherical bulb hanging on the ceiling above. With tears gathering momentum within my eyes, I ran my way towards the stairs. “Treasure! Treasure! Treasure!” Mum was shouting my name, but I did not stop. I didn’t care to hear any word from either of them. I was running down the stairs that led to the second floor and I ran into my room and threw the key into the lock.
I fell to the bed and my pillow was immediately soaked with the water of sorrow that had crowded my eyes. Why would my parents be so cruel to me? What have I done to deserve this? What help did Mr. Peter render to Dad that he couldn’t forgo for another thing? Must I be deprived of happiness because of their own selfish interests?
Now I could hear heavy knocks at the door, accompanied by Mum and Dad’s voice, begging me to open the door.
“No, Mum!” I screamed, “I don’t want to see you. You and Dad are making life a hell for me, and I have to leave the world for you!”
The door continued to boom from endless banging and slamming.
“Treasure, open the door. Please, don’t hurt yourself!” Mummy’s voice pierced deeply and painfully through the door.
After a while I made up my mind. I told them I wouldn’t attempt suicide if only they could reveal the mysteries behind my birth to me and also let me marry the man of my heart. Mum and Dad shouted an agreement to my request. Even after their promises, it took me a while to go to the door.
With a streak of tear staining her left cheek, Mum wrapped her arms around me as a chicken does to her chicks in the rainy season. Dad was standing there with a sorry expression on his face, trying to say something, but words appeared to freeze in his mouth. Mum finally let go her arms around me and led me gently to the bedside. Dad sat beside Mum, his head drooping like a palm tree that was being attacked by a storm.
“My Treasure,” Dad started gently after clearing his voice, “I think nothing should be hidden from you anymore. There is a mystery you don’t know about yourself which I have to make clear to you tonight… Your mother and I suffered so much before your birth … When it was time for your mother to labour at the hospital, the doctor did not succeed for a whole week. All efforts were fruitless and they concluded on operation. The doctor frankly told me that there was a zero assurance that your mother would stay alive after the operation.
‘What can I do?’ I asked the doctor, panicking, ‘I can’t afford to lose my wife.’
The doctor said the situation was beyond his control, that I should try another hospital. And yes, we did … Peter and I transferred your mother to another hospital, but we were given the same condition. The third doctor advised us to use the traditional means. We transferred your mother to a native doctor who then told us that the baby in that womb was a glorious child hindered by spiritual friends.
‘Spiritual friends?’ I asked the old man in dismay, ‘who are they? And why are they hindering the birth of my baby?’
In response, the shaky-voiced old man smirked, and said, ‘According to the oracle, this child is not an ordinary creature. It is a female child, and she, herself, is a spiritual soul who had left her friends in order to save you and your wife from abject poverty. But they did not want her to leave their midst.’
‘So, my unborn baby is a spiritual child?’
‘According to the oracle, the mouth of the gods,’ said the old man, ‘this child I’m seeing had once come to you in the image of a beggar or refugee to test your faith. You gave the person the money on you despite that it was your last kobo.’
I was baffled to hear that. I used to give alms to beggars from the token I earned from my truck-pushing. But how would I have recognized the supernatural being among them?
The old man sighed and said, ‘The only remedy is to appease her friends with a sacrifice. The person that is going to carry the sacrifice must be a male relative of yours who has more than two children, and this sacrifice must be carried before three days run out; or else you will lose both mother and child.’
I asked the old man if nothing would happen to the sacrifice-carrier or any of his children. The old man told me that the ‘more-than-two-children’ aspect of it was the demand of the oracle, so no danger lurked around for the person, provided he was my blood.
On hearing that, I went to my brothers and uncles who even had as many as fifteen children. They all ignored me. They said I wanted to sacrifice them to keep my wife alive. Majority said I wanted to make a money ritual since poverty had sucked me to bag of bones. When I tried to convince them, some of them used machetes to chase me out of their compounds, calling me all sort of bad names.
Two days passed, no relative was ready to help me. Less than twelve hours, my wife would say farewell to the world, I thought in anguish. Over the days, I didn’t have a dime to eat. I had spent all the money I had on hospital bills. Even then, eating was the least of my problem. Why should I eat when my life was at stake? Completely despaired, I went back to the native doctor for an alternative to keep my wife alive since no relative was ready to help. When the old man re-consulted the oracle, the alternative was to find any close friend who had more two children. But he added that ‘one of the children’ might fall sick and eventually die after the sacrifice. That very day Peter was seated beside me, staring at my tearful face and diverted his look on my wife who was moaning and writhing in agony on the raffia mat.
‘Although, I used to have three male kids,’ Peter said to the old man, ‘ but the middle child, Uzoma, had been kidnapped by armed robbers while I was on a bus heading to Abakaliki some months back. So, I have two children left. Can I still carry the sacrifice?’
The old man nodded, ‘Yes, young man…you can still carry it.’
I couldn’t believe my ears. Could any friend on earth ever do that after losing a child? With that, my tears augmented. Peter consoled me, and I thanked him excessively. The old man said I would become very rich once the child was successfully born, and he asked me never to forget my friend once I became wealthy. Amidst my endless tears, I vowed that I would do anything on earth to please Peter. When the riches came, indeed, I assisted Peter in his trading career and he also became successful. And recently, when he told me that his son was in love with my daughter I decided within me that his son really deserves my daughter.”
“So, Dad, chief Peter sacrificed his child for me and Mum to live?” I asked. I was so touched by the story as much as I didn’t know that I was a spiritual soul, myself. The sacrifice must have made me lose the consciousness of my identity, “but, Dad if you had gone to a church, nothing like that would have happened. There wouldn’t be a sacrifice that would claim a human life.”
“You are right, my daughter,” Dad let out a long sigh “I was not a religious fellow then. And besides, that never came to my mind due to the confusion and misery that had overtaken me.”
“Dad, I thought you said Chief Peter’s son was kidnapped at Abakaliki some months before I was born?”
“Yes.”
“How old was the son then?”
“Three or four … or maybe five. I can’t remember precisely”
“Somehow,” I contemplated, “this story shares some things in common with the story I recently heard from Festus,”
“How?”
“I’m not sure, though,” I said, jutting my index finger to recollect a story Festus told me in one of our recent BBM chats. “According to Festus, he said those people he called his real parents told him he was not their real child. He was found crying along the bush by his assumed father who was coming from the farm at Abakaliki on March 12, 1986….”
“Yes,” Dad readjusted impatiently on his seat, “Yes. The incident happened around March, but I’m not sure about the year. It should be ‘86 or ‘87. Tell me more.”
At that moment, Mum also became curious. The eagerness to hear more from me weighed heavily on their faces.
“According to his assumed father, the farmer,” I continued, “when he asked his name, he couldn’t talk, but kept crying. The man carried him to the Igwe’s palace, so the town-crier announced through the village if anyone was looking for a child. Some people claimed to be looking for their respective children, but none of the identity tallied with his. Eventually, the farmer was permitted by the King to take care of him. And the man decided to name him Festus. Some years after, the man and his family relocated to Lagos.”
“This is unbelievable!” Said Dad, turning to Mum who was seated right beside him, “Dear, don’t you think the story is similar?”
“Yes, very.” Mum said emphatically, “What if the boy is Mr. Peter’s stolen child? And again the boy is dark in complexion. The date and the location of the incident too… that is strange.”
Instantly, Dad picked up his phone and called Chief Peter concerning the story. The phone was on a loud speaker. I could sense excitement in chief Peter’s voice once he heard how similar the story had been to the incident. Chief Peter’s voice grew with agitation. He wanted to set his eyes on the child and probably run a DNA test. I wish Festus would be chief Peter’s biological son. My happiness would certainly grow like a wild fire.
FESTUS
“H-e-e-e-eh! ye-e-e-e-e-e-eh! Thief! thief! thief!”
The noise came intruding on my night sleep. I was partially awake in bed, my eyes still tightly closed. At a close range the uproar was rising and falling, accompanied by resounding BOOM! of gunshots which sent my heart panting like I was on a hundred meter race. Our campus under the attack of thieves or armed robbers, not cultists this time around? I sprang up from the bed with the intention of running to anywhere safe.
“I couldn’t.” I shook my head from side to side, “I don’t know how to tell you.”
Alfred sighed, glaring at me in disgust, “ I can’t just believe this! I just have to leave.” He jerked to his feet like a soldier and picked up his car keys from the table.
I didn’t say any word. He stopped abruptly at the doorway, turning to look at me, his eyes were as red as a glowing coal in a dying fire.
“Aunty Sharon, the food is ready o,” I heard our maid’s voice from the dinning, “Is oga going? Come and eat your food before you go!”
“Who is going?” Mum asked all the way from the kitchen. Before Mum could get out, Alfred had pulled his car towards the road that led to the gate. Mum asked me why he left without informing anyone.
“He left something at home,” I said plainly, while filling the two wine glasses, “he will be back shortly.” I covered my mouth to suppress the hiccup in my throat.
“Are you sure of what you’re saying? At least he would’ve just informed me.”
“I think that would be a waste of time, Mum,” I smiled. “ Don’t worry, your son-in law will be back soon. Okay?” I winked at Mum playfully. Mum smiled back at me.
****
During the night Dad became very angry with me. He was aware of all I said to Alfred through Mr. Peters, Alfred’s father. Alfred had refused to receive Dad’s call until around 7pm when Mr. Peters called and expressed how disappointed he was. I saw Dad pleading with Mr. Peters on phone that I didn’t mean what I said to his son. I began to wonder if there was something else behind my marriage to Alfred.
About 10pm I decided to take my used cloths to the washing machine at the third floor. I could hear arguing voices coming from the exterior balcony which was very close to the laundry room. It was Mum and Dad. I crept to the corridor. I peeked at them and hid myself by the door, soft drinks on the table before them. I wanted to know what the argument was all about.
“I don’t want this child to transfer the wealth on her to that wretched boy!” Dad said, “you know that any man that wins her heart is a lucky man forever. If the person is poor, he will become very rich in a blink of an eye once he starts staying under the same roof with her.”
“Yes … I know; according to her destiny,” said Mum.
“And you know Peter’s effort before this girl could stay alive back then. I just wish to marry my fortunate daughter to his son; just to pay him for his effort.”
“So, what do we do when she is blindly in love with Festus, en? Me I am tired of all this o.” Mum said in a nagging tone.
“I have to act fast on that…maybe I should separate them spiritually when physical effort is not working.”
I felt my heart struck having heard that. Spiritual effort? Many questions needed answers in my head. What effort did Alfred’s father make to keep me alive?
“Dad, I have overheard you!” I cried as I appeared to them at the balcony, “I would rather commit suicide!”
EPISODE 11
The glass of juice in Dad’s hand sloshed on his body as he looked at me in dismay. Mum’s eyes widened and flashed brightly like the spherical bulb hanging on the ceiling above. With tears gathering momentum within my eyes, I ran my way towards the stairs. “Treasure! Treasure! Treasure!” Mum was shouting my name, but I did not stop. I didn’t care to hear any word from either of them. I was running down the stairs that led to the second floor and I ran into my room and threw the key into the lock.
I fell to the bed and my pillow was immediately soaked with the water of sorrow that had crowded my eyes. Why would my parents be so cruel to me? What have I done to deserve this? What help did Mr. Peter render to Dad that he couldn’t forgo for another thing? Must I be deprived of happiness because of their own selfish interests?
Now I could hear heavy knocks at the door, accompanied by Mum and Dad’s voice, begging me to open the door.
“No, Mum!” I screamed, “I don’t want to see you. You and Dad are making life a hell for me, and I have to leave the world for you!”
The door continued to boom from endless banging and slamming.
“Treasure, open the door. Please, don’t hurt yourself!” Mummy’s voice pierced deeply and painfully through the door.
After a while I made up my mind. I told them I wouldn’t attempt suicide if only they could reveal the mysteries behind my birth to me and also let me marry the man of my heart. Mum and Dad shouted an agreement to my request. Even after their promises, it took me a while to go to the door.
With a streak of tear staining her left cheek, Mum wrapped her arms around me as a chicken does to her chicks in the rainy season. Dad was standing there with a sorry expression on his face, trying to say something, but words appeared to freeze in his mouth. Mum finally let go her arms around me and led me gently to the bedside. Dad sat beside Mum, his head drooping like a palm tree that was being attacked by a storm.
“My Treasure,” Dad started gently after clearing his voice, “I think nothing should be hidden from you anymore. There is a mystery you don’t know about yourself which I have to make clear to you tonight… Your mother and I suffered so much before your birth … When it was time for your mother to labour at the hospital, the doctor did not succeed for a whole week. All efforts were fruitless and they concluded on operation. The doctor frankly told me that there was a zero assurance that your mother would stay alive after the operation.
‘What can I do?’ I asked the doctor, panicking, ‘I can’t afford to lose my wife.’
The doctor said the situation was beyond his control, that I should try another hospital. And yes, we did … Peter and I transferred your mother to another hospital, but we were given the same condition. The third doctor advised us to use the traditional means. We transferred your mother to a native doctor who then told us that the baby in that womb was a glorious child hindered by spiritual friends.
‘Spiritual friends?’ I asked the old man in dismay, ‘who are they? And why are they hindering the birth of my baby?’
In response, the shaky-voiced old man smirked, and said, ‘According to the oracle, this child is not an ordinary creature. It is a female child, and she, herself, is a spiritual soul who had left her friends in order to save you and your wife from abject poverty. But they did not want her to leave their midst.’
‘So, my unborn baby is a spiritual child?’
‘According to the oracle, the mouth of the gods,’ said the old man, ‘this child I’m seeing had once come to you in the image of a beggar or refugee to test your faith. You gave the person the money on you despite that it was your last kobo.’
I was baffled to hear that. I used to give alms to beggars from the token I earned from my truck-pushing. But how would I have recognized the supernatural being among them?
The old man sighed and said, ‘The only remedy is to appease her friends with a sacrifice. The person that is going to carry the sacrifice must be a male relative of yours who has more than two children, and this sacrifice must be carried before three days run out; or else you will lose both mother and child.’
I asked the old man if nothing would happen to the sacrifice-carrier or any of his children. The old man told me that the ‘more-than-two-children’ aspect of it was the demand of the oracle, so no danger lurked around for the person, provided he was my blood.
On hearing that, I went to my brothers and uncles who even had as many as fifteen children. They all ignored me. They said I wanted to sacrifice them to keep my wife alive. Majority said I wanted to make a money ritual since poverty had sucked me to bag of bones. When I tried to convince them, some of them used machetes to chase me out of their compounds, calling me all sort of bad names.
Two days passed, no relative was ready to help me. Less than twelve hours, my wife would say farewell to the world, I thought in anguish. Over the days, I didn’t have a dime to eat. I had spent all the money I had on hospital bills. Even then, eating was the least of my problem. Why should I eat when my life was at stake? Completely despaired, I went back to the native doctor for an alternative to keep my wife alive since no relative was ready to help. When the old man re-consulted the oracle, the alternative was to find any close friend who had more two children. But he added that ‘one of the children’ might fall sick and eventually die after the sacrifice. That very day Peter was seated beside me, staring at my tearful face and diverted his look on my wife who was moaning and writhing in agony on the raffia mat.
‘Although, I used to have three male kids,’ Peter said to the old man, ‘ but the middle child, Uzoma, had been kidnapped by armed robbers while I was on a bus heading to Abakaliki some months back. So, I have two children left. Can I still carry the sacrifice?’
The old man nodded, ‘Yes, young man…you can still carry it.’
I couldn’t believe my ears. Could any friend on earth ever do that after losing a child? With that, my tears augmented. Peter consoled me, and I thanked him excessively. The old man said I would become very rich once the child was successfully born, and he asked me never to forget my friend once I became wealthy. Amidst my endless tears, I vowed that I would do anything on earth to please Peter. When the riches came, indeed, I assisted Peter in his trading career and he also became successful. And recently, when he told me that his son was in love with my daughter I decided within me that his son really deserves my daughter.”
“So, Dad, chief Peter sacrificed his child for me and Mum to live?” I asked. I was so touched by the story as much as I didn’t know that I was a spiritual soul, myself. The sacrifice must have made me lose the consciousness of my identity, “but, Dad if you had gone to a church, nothing like that would have happened. There wouldn’t be a sacrifice that would claim a human life.”
“You are right, my daughter,” Dad let out a long sigh “I was not a religious fellow then. And besides, that never came to my mind due to the confusion and misery that had overtaken me.”
“Dad, I thought you said Chief Peter’s son was kidnapped at Abakaliki some months before I was born?”
“Yes.”
“How old was the son then?”
“Three or four … or maybe five. I can’t remember precisely”
“Somehow,” I contemplated, “this story shares some things in common with the story I recently heard from Festus,”
“How?”
“I’m not sure, though,” I said, jutting my index finger to recollect a story Festus told me in one of our recent BBM chats. “According to Festus, he said those people he called his real parents told him he was not their real child. He was found crying along the bush by his assumed father who was coming from the farm at Abakaliki on March 12, 1986….”
“Yes,” Dad readjusted impatiently on his seat, “Yes. The incident happened around March, but I’m not sure about the year. It should be ‘86 or ‘87. Tell me more.”
At that moment, Mum also became curious. The eagerness to hear more from me weighed heavily on their faces.
“According to his assumed father, the farmer,” I continued, “when he asked his name, he couldn’t talk, but kept crying. The man carried him to the Igwe’s palace, so the town-crier announced through the village if anyone was looking for a child. Some people claimed to be looking for their respective children, but none of the identity tallied with his. Eventually, the farmer was permitted by the King to take care of him. And the man decided to name him Festus. Some years after, the man and his family relocated to Lagos.”
“This is unbelievable!” Said Dad, turning to Mum who was seated right beside him, “Dear, don’t you think the story is similar?”
“Yes, very.” Mum said emphatically, “What if the boy is Mr. Peter’s stolen child? And again the boy is dark in complexion. The date and the location of the incident too… that is strange.”
Instantly, Dad picked up his phone and called Chief Peter concerning the story. The phone was on a loud speaker. I could sense excitement in chief Peter’s voice once he heard how similar the story had been to the incident. Chief Peter’s voice grew with agitation. He wanted to set his eyes on the child and probably run a DNA test. I wish Festus would be chief Peter’s biological son. My happiness would certainly grow like a wild fire.
FESTUS
“H-e-e-e-eh! ye-e-e-e-e-e-eh! Thief! thief! thief!”
The noise came intruding on my night sleep. I was partially awake in bed, my eyes still tightly closed. At a close range the uproar was rising and falling, accompanied by resounding BOOM! of gunshots which sent my heart panting like I was on a hundred meter race. Our campus under the attack of thieves or armed robbers, not cultists this time around? I sprang up from the bed with the intention of running to anywhere safe.
EPISODE 12
“Wey the thief? Wey the thief? Wey the thief?”
I shouted to life with sweat streaming down my forehead . Then I was utterly confused seeing Collins and Dayo jumping around the room with turning sticks and another wooden object.
“Abeg, where the thief dey now?” I finally yelled at them.
“Na the two rats wey run commot from my cupboard we they pursue since o!” Collin was panting between the struggle, still banging a stick against his wardrobe.
“If you see the thief, dey big die!” Dayo said while arranging the pots that had scattered on the floor.
I took a long sigh, resting my hands on my chests to calm my pounding heart from exploding. I realized it was the stick that was sounding like gunshots in my ears, “So, it was a rat you were both calling thief. You don dey craze o. Big fool. That is what you are!”
“Animal, you still dey sleep when Sunday service dey start by 7:30am,” Collins taunted me, “Na this rat fuck up. I for let you sleep till 12’oclock.”
When I pulled the window cotton apart I was surprised that it was daybreak already – 7:45am at the wall clock, when I had thought it was still midnight. Then I stretched my frame, my body cracking like dry sticks breaking down under a bonfire, and I yawned very loudly in a way that could provoke Collins and Dayo.
“I no get your time this morning,” I said to Collins as I reached for the wardrobe to pick up my toothbrush.
I fumbled for my phone under my pillow to check if I had got any missed call. On the previous night, I had taken seven bottles of small stout with my course mates, to mark our last exam paper which we ended on Friday.
How come my phone was off? I turned it on as I made towards the balcony to brush my teeth. I had a text message from Sharon: YESTERDAY AT 10:56 PM
Hi! Sweetie, my parents need your attention by all means. Pls, flash my number or better still holla me with a ping. There is an important matter you have to attend to. It aint abt the pregnancy. We seem to have found your real parents.
My heart failed a beat. How could that be possible? I dialed Sharon’s number at once.
“Good morning, sweetie,” Sharon slurred sleepily from the receiver. I guessed it was my call that woke her.
“Beautiful morning, dear. I just saw your message.”
Her voice now sounded normal. She responded that her Dad told her a story of his friend, one Chief Peter, who lost a child at the same area my assumed father had found me. She said the date of the incident was exactly the same with the one I told her.
“Really? Are.. are you sure about that?”
“ I’m not completely sure, though. But my parents need your attention in our home anytime this week. So, when are you gonna make it, nigga?”
“I don’t mind coming over tomorrow,” I told her, “but I don’t know your place, plus I don’t even have much on me for T-fare.”
“And you didn’t tell me all these while,” she said nervously.
“Oops, I forgot about that.” I mouthed, slightly embarrassed that I was the one collecting from her.
She laughed and said, “You’re so funny. Hmmm…I know you’re shy to ask. Anyway, I guess 50k is gonna be enough for the T-fare and refreshment on the bus. I will send it early tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you so much!”
“Please, let’s go on BBM. I have some other gist for you.”
“You and your gist, sha,” I said and smiled, “okay, you may terminate the call then.”
****
On the following day, I eventually located Sharon’s home around Garki district, phase 1 in Abuja. She had sent the picture and the address of the house to me through BBM. Getting to the front gate of the house, I turned around to drink in the beauty of the locality for a moment. The district accommodated magnificent buildings, like those in the British country. And in a moment I was assuring myself that I was not in the United states, for the blemishless paved road and decorative flowers. A single electricity pole was not standing on the street unlike Agege, my place in Lagos, where wires would be plaited untidily on the streets like the hair on a wayward mad woman.
“Hey, young man!” a raspy voice stabbed at my thoughtful survey from behind.
When I turned back, my eye level could only reach just below the chests of a man in a soldier uniform. My ‘6 feet’ height was completely dwarfed by a soldier whose physique could have worked better as a bouncer.
“Are you the Festus?” The soldier asked.
“Yes, I’m Festus.” I said, frowning my face as his eyes began to examine my body. And I decided to let my eyes follow his. I wonder what was wrong with my look. I was on a black suit, red tie, white inner shirt and a pair of black suede shoe. Maybe he thought I was a pastor. I was actually expecting Sharon to meet me outside the gate. I had called her about five minutes ago, and now I brought out my phone again to call her.
“Hello, I’m in front of the gate.”
“I’m so sorry, dear. I am already close to the gate. The security man will let you in.”
At that instant, a security man came out and motioned me inside in a polite manner. I stared scornfully at the goliath as though to slap his face. I met Sharon just about four feet away to the gate side.
“Oh, I am very happy to see you in my home!” She exclaimed as she clung to me like a kid that was welcoming her parent from a very long journey. I was so delighted to feel her lovely body around me after what seemed like a decade.
“I’m so glad to see you too, baby, “ I smiled, mimicking her babyish tone, “I’ve really missed you like the world is coming to an end. ” I said as I unlocked myself from her never-ending hug.
“Oh, you flatterer!” She smiled broadly as we walked along a paved road that seemed like the way to paradise. And the impressive building I was seeing afar off was nothing, but a paradise itself.
At last we arrived at a majestic sitting room that almost took my breath away. Sharon asked me to feel at home in the couch while she walked gracefully towards the stairs. But I couldn’t sit comfortably; I sat at the edge of the couch. I had never met Sharon’s parents, except for their pictures. I did not know how they would feel about me or what they would say about me impregnating their daughter at the wrongful time. The possibility of meeting my biological parents made my heart leap behind my chest like an excited toad in a swamp.
“Dad, Mum, Festus is around!” Sharon shouted as she headed upstairs.
Just as Sharon’s parents were coming downstairs, a dark-skinned man in a white suit and hat came in, with a silver walking stick in his right hand.
“Oh, Peter, you arrived just in time!” Sharon’s Dad smiled at the man, “Here is the boy I’m talking about.” I bowed in greeting to Sharon’s parents as they approached the sitting room. I greeted chief peter the same way I had done to my in-laws.
“How are you, my dear?” Chief Peter asked, his eyes scrutinizing my body, “Fe…Festus, right?” He stuttered my name as if to be sure if I was the one or not.
“Yes, sir.” I nodded slowly.
“Please, let me see the wrist of your left hand,” Chief Peter held out his right hand.
I was confused, but I quickly obeyed him. He was now tracing his fingers over my wrist with a rapt attention – I used to have three sharp equilateral marks at that wrist during my childhood, but now they were fading away.
“Can you tell me something about these marks?”
“I don’t know anything about it, really,” I said, confused, “but, I once asked my assumed father during my childhood, he told me it must be an injury I had got from a rough play. But I thought it never appeared like a wound. It is more of a scarification….”
Chief Peter immediately left my wrist and stretched his hands upwards, muttering thanks to God.
“I was told by a Pastor that my son is not dead, but I couldn’t believe it. Oh, my Uzoma is back, alive!” Chief Peter exclaimed and broke into a brief dance that was typical of the Igbo masquerade and turned to me again with a look of surprise on his face.
I rose to my feet, still perplexed. Chief Peter continued, “Your mother died some days after she scarified these marks on you and your younger brother, Alfred. Your mother was my second wife back then, so my first child didn’t have the mark. The three marks, according to her, was a prevention against ill luck. But the day you were kidnapped, I thought the mark was an absolute nonsense. The marks must have prevented you from being killed by the kidnappers. This is wonderful!”
“You…you are my biological father?” The word rolled out my throat like a piece of rock as I embraced him in ecstasy. My joy was immeasurable having back my real father, and my father being a friend to my father-in law was another blessing to me. After what seemed like a lifetime I pulled away gently from him. Sharon was now standing beside her parents in astonishment – on her face was that gleeful look that appeared like a sea that was being graced by a radiant moonlight.
“Happy reunion,” said Sharon’s father, between his state of euphoria, “ this calls for celebration! He is the stubborn boy that stole my daughter’s heart away.”
“Uzoma, it is true that you’re responsible for Sharon’s pregnancy?” My father’s eyelids were creased with a big grin.
“Yes, father,” I smiled, tilting my head a little, “ but, it was a mistake.”
Everyone, including Sharon, burst out laughing at my statement. My father said it was not a mistake, but God’s will. He added that I must take him to my acting parents’ place in Lagos on the following day. I was very glad to hear that. Somehow, I believed that the poor man and his wife were going to become rich, for I heard from Sharon that my Father had asset in Europe and across Nigeria. I thought it would depress my in-laws that I had impregnated another girl aside from their daughter. I wondered what they would think of me; perhaps, an unserious student. Now that I was a rich man’s son, I would not be weighed down by the thought of having two wives, eventually. I knew Elizabeth never deserved me, after having affairs with Badmus upon my fetus in her womb. I had no choice. I needed to disclose everything there and then.
A ringtone from my phone pulled me out of the thought. It was a voice call…from my roommate, Dayo. I took an excuse from my new family who were still roaring with merriment. I moved across to a corner in the sitting room to hear him better.
“DY, wetin dey now?” I asked him in a low tone.
“Something don happen o,” he said, “you really need a thanksgiving right now.”
“Abeg wetin happen? Tell me nah.” I asked anxiously.
Dayo told me he just learnt from two of his classmates, who were Elizabeth’s friends, that Elizabeth had a miscarriage overnight. Wow! My heart knocked loudly like an iron trap that just caught a rat. I was so excited to hear that, but I asked Dayo if he asked the girls how it happened. According to the girls, Dayo said, Elizabeth screamed to life in the midnight that some mystical maidens were beating her with canes. And the next thing she found was blood all over her bed. I shivered in devastation in spite of my grudge for the pregnancy. Could that be Sharon’s mystical friends? I meant those spirits of no-rival, according to Kay-Euro’s revelation. I dare not cheat on Sharon in the future. I heaved a long sigh and thanked Dayo for sharing the news.
Later in the evening, my father drove me to his house at port Harcourt in his latest ‘Nissan Altima’. I got to know that my father’s best colour was white since his mansion and the exterior decorations were also white. My younger brother, Alfred, was excited to meet his assumed dead brother. Sharon already told me about him concerning the imposed marriage. Alfred said he was now pleased, after all, that I was the one Sharon had fallen in love with; not an outsider. And he expressed that he used to love Sharon very much, but he had given up once she declared to him she never loved him. What a sweet sorrow, I shook my head.
Throughout my stay in Sharon’s home in the afternoon, I refused tell her about Elizabeth’s miscarriage. When I told her on phone late in the night she almost screamed on phone with excitement.
“At last, you are for me alone, ” she told me.
“Yes,” I replied, “no woman will ever share me with you until death do us apart, I Promise. I’m not gonna cheat on you.”
“Hmm, I do not trust men generally, but I believe you, anyway. So, guess what.”
“I don’t like guessing. Just shoot.”
I heard her laugh and said, “Could you believe what my Dad said when you left? He said you are a lucky boy who has dug out two different Treasures – your biological father and ‘me’. ”
“Really?” I laughed, “your Dad is very funny.”
We soon bade each other good night after talking about other trivial things.
****
After we visited my acting parents’ place in Lagos, my father bought them a mansion at dolphin estate. He promised to sponsor their six children throughout university level and employ them in his companies afterwards.
Some week later, Sharon and I set out for California. We were going to be residing in the apartment my Dad had provided for us over there. Sharon would further her education after giving birth. But my own education would continue immediately. When the car was about to leave for the airport, Sharon’s parents and my Dad prayed for us for a while. Everyone’s face was beaming with fulfillment. Before my Dad’s driver could start the car, Sharon’s Dad smiled and said, “Safe journey, my Treasure and her lucky digger.” With that, everyone burst out laughing.
“Hmn… a lucky digger indeed,” remarked Sharon’s Mum.
“Wey the thief? Wey the thief? Wey the thief?”
I shouted to life with sweat streaming down my forehead . Then I was utterly confused seeing Collins and Dayo jumping around the room with turning sticks and another wooden object.
“Abeg, where the thief dey now?” I finally yelled at them.
“Na the two rats wey run commot from my cupboard we they pursue since o!” Collin was panting between the struggle, still banging a stick against his wardrobe.
“If you see the thief, dey big die!” Dayo said while arranging the pots that had scattered on the floor.
I took a long sigh, resting my hands on my chests to calm my pounding heart from exploding. I realized it was the stick that was sounding like gunshots in my ears, “So, it was a rat you were both calling thief. You don dey craze o. Big fool. That is what you are!”
“Animal, you still dey sleep when Sunday service dey start by 7:30am,” Collins taunted me, “Na this rat fuck up. I for let you sleep till 12’oclock.”
When I pulled the window cotton apart I was surprised that it was daybreak already – 7:45am at the wall clock, when I had thought it was still midnight. Then I stretched my frame, my body cracking like dry sticks breaking down under a bonfire, and I yawned very loudly in a way that could provoke Collins and Dayo.
“I no get your time this morning,” I said to Collins as I reached for the wardrobe to pick up my toothbrush.
I fumbled for my phone under my pillow to check if I had got any missed call. On the previous night, I had taken seven bottles of small stout with my course mates, to mark our last exam paper which we ended on Friday.
How come my phone was off? I turned it on as I made towards the balcony to brush my teeth. I had a text message from Sharon: YESTERDAY AT 10:56 PM
Hi! Sweetie, my parents need your attention by all means. Pls, flash my number or better still holla me with a ping. There is an important matter you have to attend to. It aint abt the pregnancy. We seem to have found your real parents.
My heart failed a beat. How could that be possible? I dialed Sharon’s number at once.
“Good morning, sweetie,” Sharon slurred sleepily from the receiver. I guessed it was my call that woke her.
“Beautiful morning, dear. I just saw your message.”
Her voice now sounded normal. She responded that her Dad told her a story of his friend, one Chief Peter, who lost a child at the same area my assumed father had found me. She said the date of the incident was exactly the same with the one I told her.
“Really? Are.. are you sure about that?”
“ I’m not completely sure, though. But my parents need your attention in our home anytime this week. So, when are you gonna make it, nigga?”
“I don’t mind coming over tomorrow,” I told her, “but I don’t know your place, plus I don’t even have much on me for T-fare.”
“And you didn’t tell me all these while,” she said nervously.
“Oops, I forgot about that.” I mouthed, slightly embarrassed that I was the one collecting from her.
She laughed and said, “You’re so funny. Hmmm…I know you’re shy to ask. Anyway, I guess 50k is gonna be enough for the T-fare and refreshment on the bus. I will send it early tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you so much!”
“Please, let’s go on BBM. I have some other gist for you.”
“You and your gist, sha,” I said and smiled, “okay, you may terminate the call then.”
****
On the following day, I eventually located Sharon’s home around Garki district, phase 1 in Abuja. She had sent the picture and the address of the house to me through BBM. Getting to the front gate of the house, I turned around to drink in the beauty of the locality for a moment. The district accommodated magnificent buildings, like those in the British country. And in a moment I was assuring myself that I was not in the United states, for the blemishless paved road and decorative flowers. A single electricity pole was not standing on the street unlike Agege, my place in Lagos, where wires would be plaited untidily on the streets like the hair on a wayward mad woman.
“Hey, young man!” a raspy voice stabbed at my thoughtful survey from behind.
When I turned back, my eye level could only reach just below the chests of a man in a soldier uniform. My ‘6 feet’ height was completely dwarfed by a soldier whose physique could have worked better as a bouncer.
“Are you the Festus?” The soldier asked.
“Yes, I’m Festus.” I said, frowning my face as his eyes began to examine my body. And I decided to let my eyes follow his. I wonder what was wrong with my look. I was on a black suit, red tie, white inner shirt and a pair of black suede shoe. Maybe he thought I was a pastor. I was actually expecting Sharon to meet me outside the gate. I had called her about five minutes ago, and now I brought out my phone again to call her.
“Hello, I’m in front of the gate.”
“I’m so sorry, dear. I am already close to the gate. The security man will let you in.”
At that instant, a security man came out and motioned me inside in a polite manner. I stared scornfully at the goliath as though to slap his face. I met Sharon just about four feet away to the gate side.
“Oh, I am very happy to see you in my home!” She exclaimed as she clung to me like a kid that was welcoming her parent from a very long journey. I was so delighted to feel her lovely body around me after what seemed like a decade.
“I’m so glad to see you too, baby, “ I smiled, mimicking her babyish tone, “I’ve really missed you like the world is coming to an end. ” I said as I unlocked myself from her never-ending hug.
“Oh, you flatterer!” She smiled broadly as we walked along a paved road that seemed like the way to paradise. And the impressive building I was seeing afar off was nothing, but a paradise itself.
At last we arrived at a majestic sitting room that almost took my breath away. Sharon asked me to feel at home in the couch while she walked gracefully towards the stairs. But I couldn’t sit comfortably; I sat at the edge of the couch. I had never met Sharon’s parents, except for their pictures. I did not know how they would feel about me or what they would say about me impregnating their daughter at the wrongful time. The possibility of meeting my biological parents made my heart leap behind my chest like an excited toad in a swamp.
“Dad, Mum, Festus is around!” Sharon shouted as she headed upstairs.
Just as Sharon’s parents were coming downstairs, a dark-skinned man in a white suit and hat came in, with a silver walking stick in his right hand.
“Oh, Peter, you arrived just in time!” Sharon’s Dad smiled at the man, “Here is the boy I’m talking about.” I bowed in greeting to Sharon’s parents as they approached the sitting room. I greeted chief peter the same way I had done to my in-laws.
“How are you, my dear?” Chief Peter asked, his eyes scrutinizing my body, “Fe…Festus, right?” He stuttered my name as if to be sure if I was the one or not.
“Yes, sir.” I nodded slowly.
“Please, let me see the wrist of your left hand,” Chief Peter held out his right hand.
I was confused, but I quickly obeyed him. He was now tracing his fingers over my wrist with a rapt attention – I used to have three sharp equilateral marks at that wrist during my childhood, but now they were fading away.
“Can you tell me something about these marks?”
“I don’t know anything about it, really,” I said, confused, “but, I once asked my assumed father during my childhood, he told me it must be an injury I had got from a rough play. But I thought it never appeared like a wound. It is more of a scarification….”
Chief Peter immediately left my wrist and stretched his hands upwards, muttering thanks to God.
“I was told by a Pastor that my son is not dead, but I couldn’t believe it. Oh, my Uzoma is back, alive!” Chief Peter exclaimed and broke into a brief dance that was typical of the Igbo masquerade and turned to me again with a look of surprise on his face.
I rose to my feet, still perplexed. Chief Peter continued, “Your mother died some days after she scarified these marks on you and your younger brother, Alfred. Your mother was my second wife back then, so my first child didn’t have the mark. The three marks, according to her, was a prevention against ill luck. But the day you were kidnapped, I thought the mark was an absolute nonsense. The marks must have prevented you from being killed by the kidnappers. This is wonderful!”
“You…you are my biological father?” The word rolled out my throat like a piece of rock as I embraced him in ecstasy. My joy was immeasurable having back my real father, and my father being a friend to my father-in law was another blessing to me. After what seemed like a lifetime I pulled away gently from him. Sharon was now standing beside her parents in astonishment – on her face was that gleeful look that appeared like a sea that was being graced by a radiant moonlight.
“Happy reunion,” said Sharon’s father, between his state of euphoria, “ this calls for celebration! He is the stubborn boy that stole my daughter’s heart away.”
“Uzoma, it is true that you’re responsible for Sharon’s pregnancy?” My father’s eyelids were creased with a big grin.
“Yes, father,” I smiled, tilting my head a little, “ but, it was a mistake.”
Everyone, including Sharon, burst out laughing at my statement. My father said it was not a mistake, but God’s will. He added that I must take him to my acting parents’ place in Lagos on the following day. I was very glad to hear that. Somehow, I believed that the poor man and his wife were going to become rich, for I heard from Sharon that my Father had asset in Europe and across Nigeria. I thought it would depress my in-laws that I had impregnated another girl aside from their daughter. I wondered what they would think of me; perhaps, an unserious student. Now that I was a rich man’s son, I would not be weighed down by the thought of having two wives, eventually. I knew Elizabeth never deserved me, after having affairs with Badmus upon my fetus in her womb. I had no choice. I needed to disclose everything there and then.
A ringtone from my phone pulled me out of the thought. It was a voice call…from my roommate, Dayo. I took an excuse from my new family who were still roaring with merriment. I moved across to a corner in the sitting room to hear him better.
“DY, wetin dey now?” I asked him in a low tone.
“Something don happen o,” he said, “you really need a thanksgiving right now.”
“Abeg wetin happen? Tell me nah.” I asked anxiously.
Dayo told me he just learnt from two of his classmates, who were Elizabeth’s friends, that Elizabeth had a miscarriage overnight. Wow! My heart knocked loudly like an iron trap that just caught a rat. I was so excited to hear that, but I asked Dayo if he asked the girls how it happened. According to the girls, Dayo said, Elizabeth screamed to life in the midnight that some mystical maidens were beating her with canes. And the next thing she found was blood all over her bed. I shivered in devastation in spite of my grudge for the pregnancy. Could that be Sharon’s mystical friends? I meant those spirits of no-rival, according to Kay-Euro’s revelation. I dare not cheat on Sharon in the future. I heaved a long sigh and thanked Dayo for sharing the news.
Later in the evening, my father drove me to his house at port Harcourt in his latest ‘Nissan Altima’. I got to know that my father’s best colour was white since his mansion and the exterior decorations were also white. My younger brother, Alfred, was excited to meet his assumed dead brother. Sharon already told me about him concerning the imposed marriage. Alfred said he was now pleased, after all, that I was the one Sharon had fallen in love with; not an outsider. And he expressed that he used to love Sharon very much, but he had given up once she declared to him she never loved him. What a sweet sorrow, I shook my head.
Throughout my stay in Sharon’s home in the afternoon, I refused tell her about Elizabeth’s miscarriage. When I told her on phone late in the night she almost screamed on phone with excitement.
“At last, you are for me alone, ” she told me.
“Yes,” I replied, “no woman will ever share me with you until death do us apart, I Promise. I’m not gonna cheat on you.”
“Hmm, I do not trust men generally, but I believe you, anyway. So, guess what.”
“I don’t like guessing. Just shoot.”
I heard her laugh and said, “Could you believe what my Dad said when you left? He said you are a lucky boy who has dug out two different Treasures – your biological father and ‘me’. ”
“Really?” I laughed, “your Dad is very funny.”
We soon bade each other good night after talking about other trivial things.
****
After we visited my acting parents’ place in Lagos, my father bought them a mansion at dolphin estate. He promised to sponsor their six children throughout university level and employ them in his companies afterwards.
Some week later, Sharon and I set out for California. We were going to be residing in the apartment my Dad had provided for us over there. Sharon would further her education after giving birth. But my own education would continue immediately. When the car was about to leave for the airport, Sharon’s parents and my Dad prayed for us for a while. Everyone’s face was beaming with fulfillment. Before my Dad’s driver could start the car, Sharon’s Dad smiled and said, “Safe journey, my Treasure and her lucky digger.” With that, everyone burst out laughing.
“Hmn… a lucky digger indeed,” remarked Sharon’s Mum.
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