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Three months after she lost her pregnancy, Jumoke was still recovering. Although she had healed physically and had returned to her normal way of life, she was yet to reach a balance psychologically. Her wound would take time to heal.
She was always moved to tears, whenever she ruminated on what she went through before getting pregnant; the three harrowing years of waiting, the pains associated with undergoing different kinds of fertility tests, the price of getting fertility drugs, and the joy at the discovery that she was pregnant. Her hope had been dashed like a earthenware pot thrown against a hard surface. She doubted if she would ever recover, except she conceives another baby, carry the baby to term and put to birth. She wanted people to come and rejoice with her and call her mama Oluwadamilare.
Her husband would be happy. She wanted Kola to be happy. She wanted people to call him by the name of their first child; Baba Damilare. She will not feel complete without giving Kola a child.
He was strong throughout their ordeal. Whenever she remembered how he cried on the day that she lost the pregnancy, she always felt a sort of tenderness towards him. He loves her. He wanted their baby more than she ever thought. Days after she was discharged from the hospital, he had confided in her that his tears were more for her and less for the aborted pregnancy. He knew how everything about her had transformed at the knowledge of the pregnancy and how she had hinged her hope on it. Kola was sad that they wouldn’t carry that particular baby. ” More will come,” he said in consolation to his wife.
They’d started working for another baby and Kola was willingly fulfilling his manly duty. They prayed at every copulation, especially the ones within her fertile period, that it would be it. There was calmness, mutual understanding and enhanced love between them; as if the loss of the baby had further drawn them together. Kola always had a smile for Jumoke, he wanted her to be happy at all cost. She basked in the knowledge of his love and care for her, and reciprocated his gestures. She also wanted him to be happy. Of recent, she had caught him frowning at nothing. He would worryingly look into space and sigh, as if there’s something heavy on his mind. She actually saw him talking to himself on two occasions. And one day, he left her to receive a call in the middle of the night. He had earlier peered into her face to check if she was asleep. It was the ringing of his phone that startled her awake, but she pretended like she was still asleep. Though her eyes remained closed, she sensed when he looked into her face. Kola rushed out to receive his call.
Jumoke wondered at who could be calling him in the middle of the night. She decided she wasn’t going to bother her head unnecessarily. The call must have been from his business partner. He probably didn’t want to bother her with their discussion.
The call that Kola received was from Deaconess Beatrice. They’d been on the matter of her Staying in Kaduna for quite sometimes now. Kola had no say about her aborting the baby again, not after Jumoke lost her pregnancy. He agreed that if she wanted to keep the baby, so be it. He was very okay with the arrangement that she proposed, that she will not reveal the identity of her baby’s father to any living soul. What he was against was her staying in not- too- faraway Kaduna. He argued that it was too much a risk to take. Since she has not garnered enough courage to tell the pastor about her state, staying nearby was risky. More so, Kaduna is a sister state to Kano. People commute to and fro on daily basis, for business and other things. Someone might just see her one day and spill the beans. By then, she would be under pressure to voice out about his involvement with her. He wanted her to go far away, if possible, leave the country.
Deaconess replied Kola that she will not allow him to control her or tell her what to do with her life. She advised him to take it that they have no connection whatsoever. The baby will belong to her and her alone. Deaconess was saddened because she knew that Kola wasn’t concerned about her. All what he wanted was for his a*s to be covered. She wondered at what she would tell her baby about his father when he comes of age.
He. She knew he would be a boy; a boy that is coming to the world to fulfil purpose. His pregnancy had not given her much stress per say. She was always as fit as a fiddle. Jerry had ensured that she was well taken care of, at no cost to her. She will forever be grateful to him.
On countless occasions, Deaconess had gone as far as almost Calling Reverend Alhassan, to lay herself bare before him, confessing her shortcoming and agreeing to subject herself to the church disciplinary actions. She wanted to tell him that she would soon return home. At every try, She would panic, drop the phone and promise herself that she would call by the next day. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. A time came that she only had two months to her delivery. She had become very heavy, as if she was carrying three and not one baby.
Jerry had advised her to opt for elective caesarean section, considering her age and to guard against unforeseen circumstances. She agreed and had already been booked. Jerry said he would carry out the procedure himself, more reason why she should stay back and have her baby in Kaduna.
On a day like any other day, Deaconess decided to go to the market to get a few more baby items. Beforehand, she’d been picking things here and there. She had earlier decided that if she’s going to have the baby, then she would give it the best of everything from onset. Eventually, he would turn out to be her last-born and her consolation in old age. She had money and was ready to spend it on her child. More money was entering her account on daily basis. She had contacted the family lawyer to sell off the company and all the assets, that meant more money for her.
Deaconess left for the baby wear market. She had a particular retailer, an urhobo woman, who had been selling quality materials to her. When Deaconess got to the shop, she stood against one of the pillars. The shop was always filled with customers and that day wasn’t an exemption. The moment the woman saw deaconess, she greeted her enthusiastically.
“Madam, you don come again. Dis your belle. You sure say no be twins you go born?”
” Twins ke?” Deaconess replied. ” Na only one jare.”
A woman was checking some already-made wears inside the shop. She was in town to nurse her daughter who had just given birth. It was her daughter that directed her to the Urhobo woman to get some wears for her baby. She knew deaconess from home. They attend the same church. At the sound of Deaconess’ voice, Mrs. Nwachukwu turned and their eyes jammed.
On reflex, Deaconess turned and bolted. The cloth seller called but she never answered. Only one thing was on her mind, to move as faraway as possible. Mrs. Nwachukwu also left the wear she was checking and began to walk behind her, as if her life depended on it. She was a heavy woman and panted at every additional stride.
She knew that she wasn’t mistaken about the voice. And when she turned back, their eyes jammed. She saw her stomach. It was heavily loaded. ” Wonders shall never end.” Mrs. Nwachukwu exclaimed. ” Chai. Jizα»s nyere anyα» aka. Help us. Pretenders too full this world o. Who could have impregnated her? No wonder.” Mrs. Nwachukwu hit her two palms together. ” No wonder she suddenly disappeared from the church. I’m sure the pastor is aware of this and they are trying to cover up. She will soon deliver and they will give the baby out. Then she will return and behave as if nothing happened. This world sef.Chukwu onye na-ejere gi ozi. People must hear this.”
Deaconess had managed to get to the roadside. She was exhausted and panting from the brisk walk but she just had to get away. She regretted not calling the pastor before now or even agreeing to Kola’s option.
If Mrs. Nwachukwu a.k.a. the CNN of Beulah really saw her, then she’s done for. She only hoped that she didn’t recognize her. Maybe the pregnancy won’t make her to recognize her. But, she had an inkling that someone was following her, though She had no courage to look back. She only wanted to get away.
Deaconess waved a Keke(tricycle) down. ” Gowon Estate,” she called. She was ready to pay him any amount, if he would just hurry her out of that vicinity. Take turns, twists and bends, so that whoever is following her would get lost.
From a distance, Mrs. Nwachukwu also hailed a Keke and asked the rider to follow the Keke before him. Bumper to bumper.
TO BE CONTINUED
Β©BOSEDE FAGBEMI
It is well o. I wonder what deaconess will do now.
Report herself?
Move to another location?
