BLEEDING SACRIFICE
CHAPTER SEVEN
“How dare you talk to me like that? Do I look like your mate?” Nora said, as her husband quickly rushed to her and held her.
“Nora! You don’t do that to a child!” Mathieu scolded.
“I believe you heard what she said to me, Mathieu.”
“She is in pain, for crying out loud.”
“And so what? Am I not in pain too? She’s my sister, and she’s gone forever because of her negligence.”
“Your negligence, ma’am!” Hellen fired back.
“It was due to your selfishness, your negligence, and your wicked heart that my mum died.”
Nora jumped in for another slap but was stopped by her husband.
“Nunu, stop this already. Stop embarrassing yourself.”
“Wait a minute, is it that you guys are not paying attention to what she’s saying to me?”
“She is disrespecting me, for crying out loud!”
Her husband pulled her by the arm and took her away from the scene.
“Hellen is broken, and to make matters worse, you’re adding salt to her injuries by provoking her.”
“But…”
“No but, Nunu. I have had enough of your trouble today. Your sister just died; the best you could do is grant her peace, not quarrel her daughter, causing her more agony.”
He left Nora devastated and frustrated and went to comfort Hellen.
All the traditional rites were performed, and Elonga was buried. Nora and Mathieu, alongside their spouses, prepared to leave for the city. They were now gathered outside, saying their goodbyes to everyone. Except, of course, Nora, who was already seated in her car waiting for her husband to come.
“My Darling, I know how difficult this is for you, but take heart, okay? I know Mama is somewhere with grandma and grandpa.”
“Thanks, Aunty.”
“When you’re done with your final year exams, you come stay with me, right?”
Mathieu’s wife told Hellen to come stay with them once she’s done with her final year exams. Hellen nodded in affirmation, but deep down, she knew she couldn’t.
The day after Elonga’s burial, Hellen found herself alone in the house. The quietness enveloped her, amplifying her grief. She missed her mother—the one who had cradled her dreams, wiped away tears, and whispered stories into the night.
Hellen stepped into Elonga’s room. The air smelled faintly of lavender, a scent that had always comforted her. The bed was neatly made, but the emptiness echoed louder than any words. She touched the pillow, imagining her mother’s warmth there.
As she folded Elonga’s clothes, each piece held a memory. The faded blue dress—worn during Hellen’s first school play. The silk scarf—wrapped around her mother’s neck on chilly evenings. The worn-out slippers—Elonga’s tired feet finding solace after a long day.
When she went closer to the bedside cupboard, she saw a white envelope hanging out of the cupboard, with a message that read “To My Dear Daughter.” She quickly dragged the cupboard and discovered several other letters in it, addressed to her, her uncle Mathieu, and Nora. She had about four letters addressed to her name and one each for her aunt and uncle.
On each of her letters were written dates on which they had to be opened and occasions. One was to be opened after her mum’s burial, the other on her Graduation day from the University, the third had to be opened on her wedding day, and finally, the last one was to be opened when she’s had her first child.
She quickly took out the one which was to be opened after her mum’s burial it read:
“Dear Daughter,
My mother, my only comfort, my joy, I wish I could have the power to slow down time so that I could spend enough time with you. I really wished I could stay with you and play all the sweet games we could together. Don’t cry for too long, okay? Mummy has to go so that you get a better future. I want you to do something for me—promise to take very good care of yourself and be strong. I want you to forget about your uncle and aunt and move on with your life. I know you’re probably still young, but they’ll only make things worse for you. In this letter is an address of a friend I once knew. Get all your things and go to her. Tell her you’re Elonga’s daughter. Her name is Cynthia, and she’s going to take you in and help you out with everything. You can hand over the letters to your aunt and uncle before going to Cynthia’s house, but don’t let them know where you’re going to.
Take care, my sweet child, and remember your mother loves you.”
Immediately after Hellen finished her final year exams, she packed her bags and set off to find Cynthia.
TO BE CONTINUED
