It was a warm Saturday morning when Tonia boarded a rickety bus from school to her parents’ house in Ikotun. She hadn’t been home in two months. Between her growing bump and the fear eating at her heart, home had become a ghost she dreaded. But hiding was no longer an option.
She could no longer mask her belly. Her breassts had become rounder, her feet slightly swollen, her face fuller with that strange maternal glow. The lie could no longer hold. She had to tell them. Somehow.
She clutched her school bag tightly to her chest, as if to shield herself from the shame wrapped tightly around her soul.
The bus jerked and staggered over potholes, but Tonia barely noticed. Her mind was already a thousand miles ahead—inside her father’s sitting room, beneath the portrait of Jesus that hung above the old television. She saw the expressions: her mother’s shock, her father’s thunderous silence. The slap she might receive. The curse. The rejection.
She looked down at her belly and whispered, “Whatever happens, I won’t let them take you from me.”
Homecoming
Her mother opened the door.
“Tonia? You didn’t even tell me you were coming. You just appeared like NEPA light.”
Tonia forced a smile. “I needed to see you.”
“Hmm… you’ve added weight o. You’re looking… rounded.”
They entered the house. Her siblings were away for a school event, and her father was in the backyard fixing the generator.
She sat on the couch, her palms clammy, her heartbeat p******g in her ears.
“Tonia, you want rice or spaghetti? I cooked both,” her mother called from the kitchen.
“Mummy,” she croaked.
“Yes, my dear?”
She took a deep breath. Then another. But the words refused to form.
“Mummy… I need to tell you something. Please don’t shout.”
Her mother slowly walked into the sitting room, hands still wet from the sink. She wiped them on her wrapper and studied her daughter’s face.
“Tonia, what is it?”
“I’m… I’m pregnant.”
Her mother didn’t move. For a moment, she looked confused—like she’d misheard. Her eyes swept down, resting on the barely concealed bump beneath Tonia’s oversized shirt. She took one step back. Then another.
“You… you what?”
Tonia’s voice was barely audible. “I’m sorry.”
The silence cracked. Her mother screamed.
“JESUS!!! My enemies have finally succeeded! Tonia, you? My only daughter? Pregnant? Out of wedlock? Ahhh! God, why? What did I do to deserve this?”
She collapsed into a chair, wailing like someone had died. The neighbors likely heard. But Tonia didn’t move. Her tears spilled freely. She knew this scene. She had rehearsed it in her mind a thousand times.
Her father stormed in. “What’s going on here?!”
Her mother pointed at her like she was pointing at sin itself. “Your daughter is pregnant! O loun l’oyun! At 19!”
He turned to Tonia, his face dark, unreadable.
“Is this true?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
The slap came fast, hot, and heavy. Her neck twisted slightly with the impact.
“You are a disgrace! I trained you. Paid your school fees. Gave you a good name. This is how you repay me? Do you want to kill your mother?”
Her mother was still weeping. “How will I face my women’s group? What will I tell the church? That the deaconess’s daughter is carrying belle like market woman?”
Tonia tried to speak but her throat was locked.
Her father pointed to the door. “Go inside. You’re not going back to that school again. You will stay here. You’ll deliver that bastard here. Since you know how to open your legs, you must also learn how to suffer.”
House Arrest
For days, the house was like a prison.
Her mother stopped talking to her. Her father wouldn’t look her in the eyes. Her younger brother eyed her like she had grown horns. Her once-happy home became a silent punishment ground.
She wasn’t allowed to go out, not even to the pharmacy. Her mother hid her phone. Church was out of the question. Her food was served cold. Her name was now “disappointment.”
She overheard them discussing abortion once.
Her father: “Let’s remove it now. I don’t want shame.”
Her mother: “Ha! What if she dies? I can’t carry that guilt.”
That night, she lay curled on her bed, listening to the soft thud of rain on the zinc roof. Her pillow was soaked again—not from rain, but from her silent tears.
A Glimmer of Light
Days passed. Then weeks. The house remained tense, but the shouting stopped. Her mother began to speak to her in short phrases: “Eat.” “Bath.” “Sleep early.” Her father remained distant, spending most of his time keeping to himself.
One morning, she found akara and pap on the dining table. No one said it was for her, but she knew. And for the first time in weeks, she smiled faintly.
That same day, her mother knocked on her door.
“You need antenatal care. We’re going to the general hospital tomorrow. Wear something decent.”
Tonia nodded, surprised. She wanted to ask why the sudden change. But she didn’t want to jinx it. Maybe love was cracking through the walls. Maybe motherhood was universal, after all.
Lessons in Shame
At the hospital, she sat in the waiting room filled with other pregnant women. Most were older, married, with gold rings on their fingers. Some came with their husbands who sat beside them, holding bags, offering water, rubbing shoulders.
Tonia sat alone, avoiding eyes.
Some women whispered. One said, “Ehn, na these small small girls dey disgrace their family. See am.”
She pretended not to hear.
When the nurse called her name, she stood slowly and walked into the clinic. The nurse, in her early forties, stared at her for a moment, then softened.
“Na your first?”
Tonia nodded.
“How old are you?”
“Nineteen.”
“Where’s your husband?”
“No husband.”
“Hmm…”
But the nurse didn’t shame her. She checked her vitals, asked routine questions, and gave her medication.
“You’ll be fine,” the woman said quietly, “as long as you take care of yourself.”
Tonia nodded, tears brimming again.
Ending Reflection (Episode 2)
That night, back home, her mother entered her room quietly with a bowl of yam porridge.
“Eat before it gets cold,” she said.
As she turned to leave, Tonia found her voice.
“Mummy… I’m sorry.”
Her mother paused.
“I know,” she said, without turning. “But sorry won’t change anything. Now, eat and rest. You have a life inside you.”
As the door shut behind her, Tonia took a bite of the food. It was hot. Spicy. Made with love, even if hidden.
She looked down at her belly and whispered, “We’re still here.”
To be continued in Episode 3: Lone Journey into Antenatal Reality
