"Now, I'm sure almost every superheroine you've heard of possesses some sort of superpower. Well, this isn't one of those stories. No, this is a story about a woman. The bravest woman I know. She took on the responsibility of saving the world, a part of the world".

I remember the night I heard this story, December 26th, 2008. My siblings and I had gone for our annual family retreat at our village, Ibiaku Uruan in Akwa Ibom. It used to be a 10-day vacation and activities like shopping, swimming in the streams, crowded sleepovers, catching up with relatives and drinking freshly tapped palm wine always made my list of anticipated events. "Leave no second unplanned" my cousin, Akan, would say. Yes, we were very excited. Still, nobody was as enthusiastic as my Grammy, hosting her grandchildren was her favourite thing to do.

We arrived on the 23rd, kicked off the retreat with love and then assigned roles for the activities. Everything was on track, until the night of the 26th, that night, we had plans for a movie night and some homemade snacks. I was in charge of tech support, which is short for "make sure the TV and every other thing works fine". I did my job fine, in fact, I had six movies lined up just in case 'my village people' wanted to surprise me. Everything was set, my twin cousins, Akan, Bassey and I carried the generator far out just in case the power went out, we wouldn't have to waste any time getting back on track. As predicted, the power went out 54 minutes into the first movie. We rushed out to turn the generator on and to our shock, the battery was dead. It's 8:26 pm, and we don't have a spare battery, there's no light in the house, and we all rested well during the day.

You could hear the children sigh and cuss the power distribution company out. After about 20 minutes of grumbling and pretending to have a solution to the problem, we decided to sit out and enjoy the good energy in our beautiful village. Mind you, we still had a lot of snacks left for the movie night. So, we're all perambulating outside and my grammy, tired of the heat inside, walks out of the house to catch some air. Being the curious one, I walk over and ask her how they managed when there were no television sets or VCD's. "I mean, life must have been tough and boring", I said. She had a grin I didn't trust, that basically meant "Etekamba, you have no idea what your generation is missing". She explained how her parents, second uncles and third aunties would gather everyone around and tell them stories. Stories that didn't just excite but taught life lessons, life lessons that guided them as they grew up. Her passion for storytelling made me want to travel back and listen to all these amazing stories. So, I asked her if she'd be willing to tell me a story. She was a storyteller, it was in her DNA, and I guess she really missed teaching history. Anyway, I'll try to tell the story that changed my life. Here goes

"Now, I'm sure almost every superheroine you've heard of possesses some sort of superpower. Well, this isn't one of those stories. No, this is a story about a woman, a brave woman that took on the responsibility of saving the world, a part of the world. Amy was born in the year 1920 to her parents. Well, to her father basically. Her father, Jabulani, was a heavily bearded ship merchant's apprentice from the Southern part of Africa while her mother, Elna, was a beautiful seamstress from Ethiopia. They met in 1919 during one of his travels and somehow immediately connected. It was the irony of "True love survives all" as the Ethiopians didn't permit inter-tribal marriages and Elna's parents would never allow her daughter get married to a man that wasn't half as wealthy as he was. But like most true love stories, nothing was going to stop them from being together. So they snuck around as much as they could, and within two months of courting, Elna got pregnant and had to elope with her lover to Southern Africa. They were inseparable, and Amy was going to be their love child.

But then, things don't usually go the way we want them to, Elna went into labour like every normal pregnant woman, baby Amy took a lot of effort and about 26 hours to come out. She was so cute and a blessing in her parent's eyes. Her father called her Amahle, which meant The Beautiful One in his language because, in reality, she was a copy of her mother. Three days after childbirth, Elna started complaining about feeling unwell. Before the illness could be diagnosed, she died of internal bleeding. It was like a dark cloud had covered Jabulani's entire universe, he was in so much pain that he refused to eat or come out of his room. Everything changed about him and who could blame him? The pain of losing someone close to your heart can make you lose yourself, and that is what happened. Jabulani didn't openly blame baby Amy, but it was apparent that he felt some regret about her birth. Some people say he tried his best to love her, but I assume he didn't try well enough. He kept spiralling, lost weight, became bitter and filled with hate, he finally took his own life when Amy was 2 years old. Left an orphan, her mother's best friend, Annika adopted her and continued living in Southern Africa. Amy grew to be as beautiful as her mother.

They became very close as they both grew, and Annika never brought up the fact that she wasn't Amy's mother. 18 years after Amy was adopted, Annika became sick with a sporadic and terminal form of the Ganu virus. This form ravaged through Africa and slowly killed about 780,000 people in its wake, for some, it went by fast, and for others, it took some time. When Amy found out her mother had been infected and had about 7 years to live, she started asking about a cure. She would have to go through 5 years of tertiary schooling and publish a lot of papers to stand a chance to win a grant to start her own research lab. But none of that mattered because she was more than motivated to do everything for her only family. She gained admission to study Biochemistry, alongside, work as a laboratory assistant for one of the most foremost contributors to the progress of the field, at the University of Cape Town.

Taking care of her ailing mother and studying wasn't as easy as she thought and so she visited home often. Three days to her convocation and she received a letter from the sponsors of the grant, and like a dream, she was in. She now had the resources to start her own lab and try out her ideas and solutions. Unable to contain the excitement, she travelled home to inform her mother that everything was going to be alright. But life was leaving Annika, she got pale and could no longer bear the pain, she knew she had to tell Amy the truth about her birth mother, and so, she did. Amy didn't take it too well, and so she stormed out and went back to school for her graduation. The night she finally got home, she tried to patch things up with her mother. "Sleep well", she ended their 3-hour conversation with, as she tucked her in. She had no idea how well her mother would sleep. Annika died that night, at the age of 65.

The death changed Amy, like her father, she was broken, busted and disgusted at hope. She spiralled for some time and then one day she gets wind that a 9-year old girl in her village was raising money to get her mums medication for a different form of the Ganu virus that caused her mother's death. Realising she could no longer waste her knowledge, rage, abilities and gifts, she decided to reopen the lab. She put everything into making progress in the search for the cure, and after a few years, she finally did. She found a cure and saved countless lives across the globe as the disease had spread as far as China and India. Her discovery earned her several awards and accolades, and she lived a long and happy life.

My grammy ended the story by telling us that Amy migrated from Southern African to Southern Nigeria a few months after she found the cure. By the time my grammy was done, we were all gobsmacked at the story of the life of Amy. We were given time to share life lessons before going into the next story. For me, Amy's story teaches many things, and the most important lesson for me is that real success comes from solving problems.

Lol, it's ok.

What do you think?

cRobo:
Sory? Instead of story

First word I saw in your whole write up

Sorry

That's nice. thank you. I'll definitely chack it out.

soberdrunk:
Bravo Bravo!! Just made me feeling nostalgic, as if I was reading my favourite novel of all time, Time Changes Yesterday" by Nyengi Koin

It was supposed to be my first marriage, and I had never been that thrilled to lose my freedom. That week, I woke up with a smile and went to sleep with a laugh. My dreams were different, and the universe was definitely on my side, even a blind man could see it. 14th of February, 1995 was supposed to be the day my life would change forever. Well, it did change but not in the way you'd expect. Her name was Vivian, and I loved her with every fibre of my being.



We had been together for a while, and like most happy and worthwhile relationships, I started from the friend zone. Everything about our love was uncanny and pure. We met at her uncle's birthday celebration, at the time I was a 21-year old and had taken up a job as a caterer, so I could earn some money for business school. It was clear that we were from different worlds, her father was a billionaire hedge fund manager in upstate New York and my father? Well, he was a Nigerian immigrant who had died in an accident while sweeping the floors of a factory.


Maybe that's what attracted us to each other, the fact that we had different lives. I had next to nothing, and Vee had almost everything. I'll admit, I knew guys like me don't usually get girls like her, but...one time, I wanted to feel loved and she unquestionably defined love.



It was a love tale as old as time, her parents didn't approve of our friendship, and they consequently objected to our relationship. "You can't be with that man," her father told her every other day. She was warned to stay away from the "Nigga", and I was asked to only date someone from my income class and race. "What has the money or skin colour got to do with love?" she asked me on one of our picnics. Even though I was consumed with love, I knew her parents were somewhat right. A beautiful lady like Vivian deserved a man that could take care of her, and I wasn't that man, not by a long shot, at least not yet.



I remember the day I lost her like it was yesterday. The events leading up to her demise started on her 25th birthday, 11th July 1994. I had saved up some money, and I wanted to show her a good time. It wasn't enough to travel halfway around the world, but I could afford to rent a small boat. As usual, she had to sneak out of their estate, but her father had noticed the late nights and frequent letters, and so he knew we were still together.


Truth be told, I wasn't scared of some white guy with money, I was a black student in a predominantly racist society, I had faced worse. What I was afraid of was getting Vivian in any trouble, though she was daring, her father still had some control over her. Being a control freak, he ordered her for the umpteenth never to see me again or...well, I can't remember the other thing he said because it didn't matter. She decided that nothing was going to stop us from being together. Upset by his obsession with control, Vee said to me "Wole, I want to have your baby, I want us to have a child. Surely, he can't hate his own grandchild".



I couldn't say no to her. I mean, I wanted to, as a Christian and as a concerned boyfriend. I knew she wanted the best for us but getting pregnant out of wedlock and by a black man was one of the worst things that could happen to her and me. I always wanted to be with Vee. Underneath my fear for my safety, I wanted to be with her, as a family.


It wasn't our first time or last time, but that was the one that counted. We felt everything, from the first touch to the final thrust, we knew it was meant to be. I didn't have the means to take care of a baby, but she convinced me that we'd figure it out, like everything else.



Two weeks after her birthday, she confirmed she was pregnant. Everything started to get real, we decided to tell her parents together, and as expected, they were distraught. What we didn't expect however were the words that came out of her father's mouth "You're going to have to get rid of that abomination". At first, I thought he was just upset, I felt that if he had his mind settled, he'd come to realise that every child is a blessing.


On the other hand, I wasn't going to let another human dictate what I would do with my child. So, I fought back, and we had our first standoff. My bravery made Vee proud, she said nobody had ever stood up for her the way I did, she called me her hero, and I knew I couldn't back down now. I may have acted tough on the outside, but inside, I knew this wasn't going to end peacefully.



He was as stubborn as he was mischievous and being an influential figure, I was arrested and to be tried for kidnap and rape. The case would never make it to trial, being accused alone would be my end. I was ready to die for Vee, I knew I'd never survive 3 days once the charges were made public. I loved her so much I couldn't imagine a future without her.


Stuck with the decision of abortion or my death, Vivian agreed to do the abortion on the condition that I will be set free. But she wasn't planning on destroying the one thing we shared together, and so we eloped after my release. With no plan, no connections and not enough money, we moved to Nigeria and decided to have our baby here. Everything was finally okay, I thought.



But I was wrong, getting Vee pregnant was the beginning of the darkest period of my life. A week to Valentine’s Day, Vivian started complaining of abdominal pains, but she ruled it as "normal". We had planned to get married on the 14th of February, it only seemed befitting for our kind of love. I had managed to get a good job with my degree, turns out Nigeria treated foreign attained degrees like gold.


On the morning of our wedding day, Vivian, in her white dress looking like a Queen that she was, said the pain was increasing and we'd need to see a doctor after the wedding. The ceremony was amazing and attended by our friends and well-wishers. It was better than what I always dreamed it would be, and I knew I had found my definition of joy. We went over to the hospital at about 4 pm that day and then it happened. After preliminary tests by the doctor, it appeared that things were more severe than we thought.



My wife had developed complications, and the baby needed to be delivered prematurely, in less than 8 hours, or we would lose it. I couldn't take it all in, everything was happening so fast. From a beautiful wedding to a life-threatening operation? This was supposed to be the day that the Lord had made, why was this happening? For 6 years, I had dreamt about raising a family with Vivian, and now that I eventually get the chance, this happens?



There was no time to think, and so I asked the doctor to go ahead with the caesarean section. My wife couldn't stop crying, and till today, I don't know which was more painful, the abdominal pains or our misfortune. By 6 pm, they had proceeded to the surgery room. I spent the whole time praying and promising God a lot of things, I only needed my wife out and healthy.


Three long hours after, the exhausted doctor comes out, and before he says anything, I asked: "Doctor, how is my family?” It would've felt good to say those words, but that day it felt horrible to ask, considering the circumstances. "I have good news and bad news, sir," the doctor said. My heart dropped.



"We were able to save your daughter but your wife, but ... we lost your wife, sir". The doctor said. I couldn't breathe for about 10 seconds, my vision went cloudy, I started sweating so much, my head was light, and my feet couldn't keep me up, I passed out. I woke a few moments later, hoping it was some bad dream, praying that my love was alive and smiling at our baby. I needed more time, she was the reason I woke up every day. I loved her since the first day I set my eyes on her, and I wasn't ready to let her go this early.


We had been through so much, we were supposed to have the rest of our lives to figure this world out. My wife died on our wedding day, the same day our daughter was born. She didn't even get to see our daughter. I had already been through too much, everything was wrong. I didn't even get to say goodbye, I never get to say goodbye. "Why would God do this to us? We didn't deserve this". I asked.



The next two months took a downturn in my life, I had lost everything, and I never really got over the guilt of Vee's death. My Vivian would be alive if I didn't get her pregnant. Vee's death broke my spirit, undoubtedly. Life as I knew it was over. I couldn't look at the baby during the time she spent in the incubator. I missed work often, and I knew my life had changed forever. I was only 27 and already a widower, with a newborn. What else could life do to me?


I eventually picked up my daughter on the due date, and even though the love was beginning to come back, nothing could replace the emptiness my Vivian left. After a lot of deliberation, I decided to name my daughter Moradeke, which means "I have found the crown to pamper". She is the spitting image of my Vivian.


Till this day, I write a letter to her every valentine's day. I'll always love my Vee, and if I were to do life again, I'd choose her, no matter the consequences. Though short-lived, she made me know what love is, she made me feel what love is. What my relationship with Vee taught me is that we never really have time, and if you have someone you truly love, let them know today.

If you enjoyed the sory, then follow me on social media @theaniekanumana for more. Also leave your comments so we can discuss.