GOD'S "BITTER" GIFT

"The sentence of this honourable court upon you is that you be hanged by the neck until you be dead and may the Lord have mercy on your soul....."

Hot tears filled the eyes of Ignatius as he listened to the grim-faced Judge reading out his death sentence with a shocking impersonal voice like a newscaster making an obituary announcement. As he was being led away by some armed policemen in hand-cuffs, lgnatius looked across the court room at his estranged wife who was sobbing quietly and being consoled by some women he could not recognize due to his vision blurred with tears.

Ignatius before now was a successful young man married to Fidelia who is about 2 years younger than him. They got married in 2008 when Ignatius was 31 years old and Fidelia 29 years old. It was a promising and happy marriage as Ignatius was doing well as an Engineer with a private firm while Fidelia was retained by the federal teaching hospital where she did her internship as a pharmacist.

In other words, finance was not a problem as the couple supported each other and lived in a comfortable 3 bedroom flat.

Fidelia took in 3 months after their marriage but unfortunately had a miscarriage in her first trimester. Ignatius was quite supportive of the wife after the miscarriage even though both couples were greatly disappointed as they were already excited at the prospect of becoming parents in the next couple of months.
"Don't worry baby. We will make twins this time to make up for the one lost," Ignatius had consoled his depressed wife.

Anxiety began to set in for the couple when after 7 years, Fidelia failed to take in again. after the miscarriage incident. They met all manner of gynaecologists and they all confirmed the couple okay. In desperation, they even tried the option of herbal concoctions despite Fidelia being against it initially due to her health career background. Despite all these, Fidelia failed to take in, seven years and counting.

Ignatius was tormented seeing his friends on Facebook posting pictures of their kids. Some of the people who got married at the same time with him already had 3, 4, 5 kids with some of their wives already heavily pregnant again when their last kid was yet to fully walk. It was a mental torture indeed for Ignatius but of course he had to always write "congratulations", happy for you", and the such stuffs, on the timelines of such friends.

His next door neighbour had six kids. And this his neighbour somehow strapped all the kids in his motorcycle when he is going for morning school runs. Ignatius had this sick feeling that his neighbour and his wife were deliberately giving birth every year to spite him that had none.

"A na amụ ka ọkụkọ"! Ignatius would mutter to his wife in Igbo which translated to someone giving birth like a chicken.
"Baby leave them", Fidelia would say.
Ignatius would go on to lament, "Why is the world so unfair? See he can't even afford a car and he is living in the room and parlor section of this compound cramped together with 6 kids and his wife. We are living in a 3 bedroom with empty rooms filled with cobwebs and a good car with no kids to go carry to school with".

Fidelia would console him and say
"Baby, we will have our own baby. I still trust in God. He will grant our hearts desires in due time. Be happy for others. Yours will come."

On the 8th year, Fidelia took in! The couple could not contain their excitement and joy. All the anxiety and depression of the past 7 years faded away. Even the recent considerations about going for an adopted child faded as well.

By the 8th month of Fidelia's pregnancy, Ignatius had flooded one of the rooms with child-care and baby clothings. He couldn't wait to be the one to congratulated by his friends on Facebook this time.

Fidelia was delivered of a baby boy in the 9th month, but there was a problem....the baby was born with Downs Syndrome.

Something snapped in Ignatius, something almost mental. He couldn't get over his disappointment.
"So after all the wait on God, this is the gift He can give me?" Ignatius cried. His equally depressed wife took it more calmly.
"I will not question God", she said.
"I will question Him. He is the giver of bitter gifts"! Ignatius retorted.
"Baby you are blaspheming"! Fidelia replied him.

Four years later, and his wife not taking in again, Ignatius got fed up.
" I will rather be childless than have this embarrassment of a child"! Ignatius shouted like possessed being at wife in one of their now frequent quarrels after the birth of the baby.
"I carried the child for 9 months and I have accepted him as my child. You should do the same"! Fidelia shouted back.

One fateful Saturday evening, Fidelia was taking her birth and left her son in the living room with Ignatius who was watching a live match on TV. Their son moved clumsily to Ignatius blabbing incoherently. Ignatius looked at him with irritation. Why are all the children with Downs Syndrome having this same moronic look and facial structures, he wondered. Then his son suddenly defecated right infront of him, bent and started licking his poo. A demonic rage came over Ignatius and without thinking, he dragged his son by the left leg with the swiftness of a lightening. He pulled his son across his poo, smearing the tiled floor of the living room with trails of the poo, went to the balcony of their storey building and flung him out. He heard the thud downstairs as one his neighbours washing his car downstairs screamed in horror.

At that moment Fidelia called out to him from the living room, asking if he was with their son. As she got no answer, Fidelia followed the trail of the poo and joined Ignatius at the balcony. Ignatius was still transfixed at the spot where he had thrown down his son. That demonic feeling seemed to have evaporated from him and he was coming to terms with what he had just done as neighbours gathered downstairs. Someone was knocking heavily on their door as more noise was heard downstairs.

© Chinedum Igwe (2023), DeXterity Media

***The characters in this short story are fictional and strictly from the imagination of the author and therefore bear no resemblance to people either living or dead. Any such resemblance is purely coincidental.