Part Seven

A Story by Ayodele Adeoye

At a time, I became worried that nobody knew my whereabouts; from Lagos to Kabba, a strange land for that matter. What if something bad happens to me? Nobody knows my new phone number except Deji, and I had destroyed the old one. This is a big risk I am taking for a man who is callous, evil and promiscuous; a man who claimed to be a pastor but lives an adulterous life. How am I sure he’s not doing the same with other ladies? What would my parents be thinking by now? Why must I put them under this stress because of my actions? My mother can understand but not my father.

If I tell my mother, someone else must hear it. My mother will never be at peace if she hears my predicament. I must go through this until I put to bed, or else everything will blow up. The consequences will be enormous if people get to hear about this. It will get to the church’s authorities. Deji will surely lose his job. Who will take care of me and my baby? No! No! No! I won’t let anyone know, not even my mother. When I give birth, I will start a small business with the savings in my account. I began to think of the business I could do in Kabba that will give me a reasonable return.

**************

I gave birth to a bouncing baby boy on the 18th of October. It was a moment of joy for Deji’s family as they all trooped in from Odokoro Gbedde to rejoice with my mother-in-law. Sorry, I mean Deji’s mother. I was not comfortable with the old women who came around to greet and carry the baby. Language barrier became another challenge as I heard each of them say some things in Kabba dialect that I didn’t understand. As they said words that sounded like incantations, I also countered them in my mind, pleading the blood of Jesus on my baby. The sound of joy from Deji’s voice when he called me on phone was indescribable. He was so happy, he promised to come before the naming. I didn’t lack anything because he kept sending me money even without request. My joy was mixed with sadness because of the way the baby came. He’s a child out of wedlock, a bastard. A child I am not proud to tell people about. Instead of being happy, sadness crept in and stole away my happiness.

As the naming drew closer, I began to think of many things. What happens after weaning my baby? Where would I start from again? Deji will surely not divorce his wife because of me; neither will he marry me as his second wife. What will be my fate in two years time? Will I remain in Kabba or will I go back to Lagos? At this time I needed to talk to someone, but there was no one to talk to. I made up my mind that my mother must attend my son’s naming. I called her two days to the naming, narrating all my ordeals to her. For 10 minutes, my mother could not say a word as she sobbed loudly on the phone. I wept as she wept too. My heart was heavy. I have disappointed my mother who loves me dearly.

I became extremely worried because her line went off and I could not reach her again…

My mother has never been to Kogi state before, but she left Gboko the following day for Kabba. Her journey was rough and characterized by many unplanned delays. They had a flat tire three times, between Makurdi and Lafia, and several other mechanical problems. At about 9pm, my mother was yet to arrive, though the journey started by 6 a.m. I became extremely worried because her line went off and I could not reach her again. I was restless when I didn’t hear anything from my mother after 10 p.m.

The unthinkable is about to happen…

(Story copied from another source)

To be continued in part eight…

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