Pastor’s Second Wife- Part Eleven
Part Eleven
A Story by Ayodele Adeoye
On Friday, the wake keep was characterized by tears and grief. My mother’s people came with three eighteen sitter buses for the burial. Nobody said anything to me but the looks on their faces said it all. Some mourners would come and greet my father and siblings but ignore me. The message was clear in their actions; you killed your mother! I wept like never before. I was so devastated that I had to stop breastfeeding my son. Throughout the wake keep I was moody. ‘Tomorrow’ is the burial proper, and my traditional wedding ceremony. The burial will hold by 10am while the traditional wedding will come up by 3pm.
At the burial, I felt further humiliated because I was not allowed to pour sand on my mother at the graveside like my other siblings did. We moved from the graveside to the family compound for a short reception. When it was a few minutes passed 2 p.m., my uncle came to inform me of the proceedings of the traditional wedding. I was to dress in black clothes as a sign of respect to my late mother.
Few minutes to the commencement of the wedding, Mummy Pastor showed up with three men in a police van. A lot of people were wondering about what was happening and why police came to the venue of the traditional wedding. Deji and I looked at each other. Of course, we knew what was cooking up. The men stood with Mummy Pastor for about 5 minutes to discuss, and then they moved closer to me. Mummy pastor pointed at me and said to the police men “That is her”.
“Madam, I am Officer Peter and these are my colleagues. Please, are you Mercy Kwashi?”
“Yes I am,” I replied.
“You’re under arrest and you have to follow us to our station right now.” Everyone stood far off, watching the drama. One of my brothers then stepped in.
“Officer what is her offence?” He asked.
“You will know when we get to our office,” the police team leader answered. “Madam, move,” he ordered me, so I moved and they drove me away.
My brother followed us with his bike to the station. As soon as he ascertained the police station I was taken to, he went back. Few minutes later, my brother, Deji, and some of our elders came to the station, while I was writing a statement. I couldn’t look at Mummy Pastor in the face because I was ashamed. I have betrayed a woman who genuinely loved me; I took her husband away from her, and now her mission was to take him back.
Our elders and Mummy Pastor held a short meeting then proceeded to the DPO’s office. My bail was discussed and I was released immediately, because of my baby.
While we were going back to my family house, Mummy Pastor rained insults and curses on me. I was really ashamed. I felt like I should just disappear into thin air so as to escape further embarrassment. When we got to the family house, she started screaming at the top of her voice, “This wedding will not hold while I am alive!” After insulting me, she would turn to Deji and continue, “You liars! You traitors! Husband snatcher! Prostitute! Fake pastor!” she ranted on angrily.
(Story copied from another source)
To be continued in part twelve…
