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Jane's Entanglements is finally on Selar and Amazon!

Book blurb

After escaping an abusive relationship with Pamshak, Jane Dung finds refuge at her aunt's house, clinging to one burning ambition: earning a university education. When her cousin Rahila offers her a lifeline—help with household duties in exchange for tuition after a year—Jane believes her dreams are finally within reach.

But the sanctuary she thought she'd found harbors dark secrets. Lancelot, Rahila's husband, suffers from a mysterious psychological disorder that his wife remains oblivious to. As Jane settles into their home, she makes a disturbing discovery: she is somehow connected to Lancelot's condition, triggering episodes that grow increasingly dangerous.

Just as Jane begins unraveling this mystery, her past comes hunting for her. Pamshak is determined to drag her back into his web of control, threatening not only her freedom but her safety. With her abuser closing in and the psychological turmoil in her cousin's house escalating, Jane must navigate a treacherous path between her desperate need for education and the mounting dangers that surround her.

Can Jane unlock the truth behind her inexplicable connection to Lancelot's disorder before it destroys them both? And will she find the strength to protect her future—and her son—from the man who refuses to let her go?

A gripping psychological thriller about survival, ambition, and the courage to break free from the chains of the past.

To buy the book on Selar, go to
https://selar.com/s3815j8357

Please support my work by purchasing the ebook

drewbar:
Its a captivating story. Please keep it going

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She sighed deeply; the bus had now reached Hawan Kibo. Her thoughts had made her lower the phone. Reading now seemed an upheaval task, thinking will do for her. She just wanted to dwell on thoughts and plan how she would behave when she got to her cousin’s place.

“Are you a lover of Dennis Brutus?” The man sitting next to her asked. He was average sized and his mouth smelt of garlic because he had consumed a meal of beans cooked with garlic which his girlfriend had served him that morning before he left her house.

Jane shook her head without even looking at him. She did not want to encourage any discussion with him. A thought was luring her into a land of solitude and she was bent on letting it have its recourse.
“I don’t enjoy poetry; I am not a fan of mystic and coded writing. My favorite genre is prose. I enjoy novels and short stories, particularly from the American shores. My favorite authors are Leo Tolstoy, Edgar Allen Poe, Ernest Hermingway, James Baldwin, Toni Morrison, J. K Rowling, and this other female writer; I can’t really remember her name now.” He said looking at her face.

Jane gave him a scowling look that was intended to make him back off. He smiled instead and thrust out his hand. “My name is Dayo”. His garlic breath had encircled the atmosphere, choking Jane. She was fenced in. She shook his hand and told him her name all the while trying to avoid his garlic stench. Dayo was a great talker, all through the way he kept on blabbing about literature, music, Hollywood and several other topics that interested him. Jane endured his talks because she could do nothing about it, she even tried sleeping, but Dayo roused her saying he hoped she did not want to leave him to enjoy the sound of his own voice. At last they entered Abuja, Jane became hopeful. She enjoyed seeing the view of the Capital. Dayo took notice she had lighted up and asked:

“It seems you are coming into Abuja for the first time in your life?” His greasy teeth were smiling down on her awkwardly.

“No.” She answered.

“It happens dear, you will get used to the place”. He patted her on the back.

Jane growled. She could not wait for the bus to reach Gwagwalada and stop so she could leave this man and his annoying ways. Abuja was vast, they had to wait for another longer period before they eventually reached Gwagwalada. By the time they did, it was 11:20 a.m. Jane had phoned Rahila and Lancelot to tell them she will soon be arriving. Lancelot called to tell her he was at the park and that immediately she got down she could beep his phone.

“We are here to travel mate.” Dayo nudged her gently when they got to the park.

One by one people started stretching, yawning and saying their gratitude. The door opened and they came out one after another. Jane went to the boot to pick out her box and was followed by Dayo. He helped her remove it and carried it to a place where people sat to wait for their relatives.

“Can I have your number my Dear?” Dayo beamed at her.

“Why?”

“You know, to keep in touch.”

Jane waited for some minutes figuring what to do. She finally removed her phone and told him to give her his own number, he did. She typed it and in an offhand way declared she would call him. He left her.

“Brother, I am at the park. I am standing where people wait for their relatives.” Jane told Lancelot on the phone. Two minutes later he came to meet her, he was wearing a black and white striped shirt and black plain trousers. Jane smiled when she saw him. She had imagined how she would feel when they met, now she felt just plain glad.

“Good morning, Brother.”

“Good morning, Jane. How was your trip? Marvellous, thank God for the safe trip. I bet you are tired. Let me take this bag of yours while you follow me.” He said and collected her suitcase from her.

Jane planned on stopping him from doing so but immediately his hand came upon the bag, she knew it would be hopeless. She just followed him to his car. It was a red Lexus. She hopped inside when he opened the door. He put on the radio and started the car. While he drove out, the amazing breeze from the air conditioner filled the car, welcoming her to Gwagwalada.

So this was it? She was really leaving her only son behind to go to Abuja. She remembered how she had sat down with Isaac to tell him she would be leaving him to go and pursue a better life and get a degree. Isaac had looked into her eyes, she had looked away, knowing that his little tears would melt her heart and she would be scared to leave him. It was not as simple as her aunt had made it sound. Apart from the time she had left him with her aunt for a little period to be weaned, Jane had never left her son behind for any reason. It felt bizarrely wrong to her and wicked to Isaac. Isaac, poor Isaac, she thought. Who would teach him the Alphabet and numbers while she was gone? Who would clap for him when he drew a weird image and called it Mummy? Who would spank him when he referred to a strange man as Daddy? Who would call him Baby and tell him “Give Mummy your bear hug.”

“You have nothing to fear,” Aunt Gloria had said over and over to her, yet she could not help but fear. Every sort of ‘what if’s’ filled her mind. What if she could not please her cousin? What if they did not want to send her to university after a year? And what if? No, she could not even bring herself to imagine it. I’m going to be okay, things will be okay just like Auntie said and Isaac will get over the separation and be a happy boy. She thought to reassure herself.

The day for departure had finally arrived. She packed up her suitcase and whisked her handbag that contained her phone, charger, notepad, lip gloss, few sanitary pads, handkerchiefs, ear buds and cash. Her aunt had given her five thousand naira for the journey and given her Rahila’s number. They had spoken the day before and she had given Jane directions where to stop. Slowly she drew the brown medium sized travelling box to the sitting room to meet her aunt and son who were waiting. As Isaac saw the travelling box, he quickly let go of his grand aunt’s hand and reached for his mother.

“Mummy, cawi me,” he pleaded.

Jane was filled with warmth for him and almost rushed to carry him but was prevented by Aunt Gloria who foresaw a bigger crisis if Jane carried him.

“Let us pray,” Aunt Gloria announced.

Jane nodded and searched for her handkerchief in the bag with which to cover the tiny braids she had made for the journey. She wore a blue short sleeved shirt and a black nylon skirt. She covered her head and looked down at the black loafers Cousin Esther had given her when she visited last. It looked new and only Aunt Gloria could have guessed it was given to her and not purchased.

“Our dear Lord, we thank you for today. We thank you for all the wonderful things you have done, are doing and will continue to do. Thank you most especially for Jane standing right here. You deposited in Jane a wonderful brain and equipped her with beauty to match her brain. We know o Lord that she made a mistake in the past and is still recovering from the impact of that mistake, but Lord, you said even if the righteous fall they shall surely rise again. Jane is ever ready to rise and prove to the world that her life can amount to something good.

I prayed to you Lord to open a door for her tertiary institution funding and you have made a way through her cousin and her spouse in Abuja. Thank you for the door, Lord. We ask that you take control. Grant Jane a safe trip and direct her once she is there to do well and have favour with everyone she comes across. We ask you to grant her favour, success, direction and protection. As for her little boy who she will be leaving behind, please be all he wants to him. Keep him safe Lord.

Keep us all safe from harm and keep providing for us because you are our father and husbandman. We ask in Jesus' name.”

“Amen!” Both Jane and her son answered.

“And also Lord, give Jane wisdom not to fall into the wrong hands again. Soon she will want to get married, and men will come her way, please deliver her from wicked and unreasonable men in Jesus name.”

“Amen, nagode Auntie. Thanks so much.”

“You better go now, don’t arrive later than when they are expecting you. They are hospital workers so their time is calculated. Once you get to ABC Transport park in Gwagwalada, call your cousin’s husband.
Address him as Brother, you hear me?”

“Yes Ma, but my problem now is Isaac, he will not let me go.”

Isaac was holding tight to the travelling box like a man who was holding the reins of a horse, he had started making his whining noise. His face was contorted waiting for the slightest incitement to start howling. She cannot leave me here, she thinks she is smart but I will make her take me wherever she intends to go. He thought.

“I will handle this.” Aunt Gloria said. “Isaac,” she called in a sing-song voice, “You are following you mum, okay? Go to the room and take out your blue sneakers I got for you, be fast, we are waiting.”

Isaac, not knowing the plan his grand aunt was cooking up, left his hold of the box and ran excitedly to the room. Aunt Gloria made a signal with her eyes and hands and Jane hurried out, taking great care not to make noise as she did. By the time she was at the gate, she heard Isaac screaming at the top of his voice. My poor little angel, she thought.

The white RS 104 bus was almost filled up when Jane got to the ABC Transport park at British American Junction. She paid two thousand naira for her fare and got in. It was already 7 a.m. Jane looked at her phone’s calendar, it was the 27th of July 2013. She had mixed feelings as she sat at the last seat in the bus. A part of her was excited at what awaited her and a part of her was anxious. But she was resolved to control her feelings when she got to Abuja to make sure that Rahila and Lancelot would not see any reason to send her back. She needed this opportunity to redeem her pride. Once she got admission to the university, she will be the happiest lady on the planet.

The bus was about to take off; someone at the middle row said a prayer committing the journey into God’s hands. She saw a girl in ill matching clothes selling Gala sausage rolls and soft drinks. She decided to buy two Galas. The young man sitting close to her bought one and two bottled cokes. The bus drove slowly out of the park and picked up pace gradually. She sighed as a gust of wind entered through the windows. Jane loved travelling. The speed, sights and sounds of the journey made her at ease.

As the bus left the city of Jos, the young man sitting by her left dug out a book in his briefcase and started reading it. Jane stole a peek at it, it was a book by John Grisham. She regretted not putting a novel in her hand bag for the trip. The trip was to last for four hours and she now wondered what she would do in the interim. She remembered she had downloaded a copy of poems by Dennis Brutus in her EBook Reader; she took out her phone and began reading the poems. They passed a lot of villages and towns at high speed. The driver was a middle aged man with a dark complexion and straight forward gaze. He did not care to comment on any topic some of the other middle aged passengers raised. His only concern was how to reach Abuja within the fastest time.

Jane thought about her mother. When she heard that Jane would be going to help in Rahila’s house, she had first of all frowned, her fat round face had grimaced and her forehead suddenly formed contours, like the lines in a Geography textbook. She had murmured about those lazy rich people not seeing anyone else to come and do the work of a house girl, then she had begun lecturing Jane about how a child could resort to being timid and quiet when he stopped seeing his parents any more. Aunt Gloria had then intercepted her, arguing in Berom that such never occurred and that she was only viewing the whole thing from one angle.

Two of them had then argued continuously in Berom which Jane found a bit difficult to understand. Caro blamed Gloria for taking control over matters that concerned her daughter while Gloria justified herself saying Jane was equally her own daughter and she had every right to make decisions for her. The argument then ended and Caro made a note that she had finished repaying her debts and could now look for ways of sponsoring her daughter’s tertiary institution. None of them said anything to her. When they left her house Aunt Gloria had said resolutely that the choice was for Jane to make, but she would advise her to go to Abuja if she wanted things to work smoothly for her.

Jane was asleep on the couch in the sitting room. She was sprawled with her legs on the arm of the seat and her hands touching the carpet. The shop was closed and she was tired from all the work she had done at home. Isaac was on the other end of the room settled on his plastic table and chair. He was drawing and did it with uttermost seriousness. He drew an image he imagined was his mother in a sleeping position and he was perfecting the shape of the couch on which she slept. This is harder than I pictured, he thought.

There came a knock at the door. Isaac looked up from his drawing and wondered who could be knocking. His two and half year old mind told him to sit glued and not make a sound because if he did, his mother would say he woke her up despite her warning and he would get a good beating.

The knock persisted till Jane woke up herself and opened the door. It was Aunt Fatuh. Fortunately for Isaac, his mother did not blame him for her waking up and sent him to the room to call Mama.

“My sister!” Aunt Gloria hailed upon seeing her sister-in law. They hugged each other for some time before sitting down. Aunt Gloria wondered why Aunt Fatuh of all people had decided to visit her today. It had been a decade since Fatuh and Davou came to her house for a visit. They considered themselves de la crème in society and did not want to associate with commoners like her.

They exchanged pleasantries and asked about each other’s welfare. Jane brought a Fayrouz drink and a glass tumbler and set it before Aunt Fatuh. “Thank you.” Aunt Fatuh thanked her with a smile. Jane, considering she would not be needed again, went into the room she shared with her son and laid down on the bed to continue her sleep. Isaac by now had dumped his drawing and was singing a nursery rhyme in a very low tone. When it was 7:00 p.m Aunt Gloria woke her up. She got up slowly and tried to look as bright as possible.

“You are still feeling sleepy I can see.” Aunt Gloria said.
Jane nodded.

“I hope you are not ill?”

Jane made a grunting noise that symbolized no.

“Very well then.” She took a seat beside Jane on the bed. “Aunt Fatuh’s visit today was about you.” She paused and watched Jane’s reaction before going on. “It seems your cousin is finding it difficult to cope with the housework in her husband’s house.”

Jane looked up, “Is she pregnant?”

“No. But you know all these rich children; she is not used to doing a lot of work in the house. Besides that she has a busy career.” Her aunt waited again for the message to get to Jane.

Jane connected the dots quickly. They wanted her to go to Abuja to help her cousin. She quickly thought about her cousin’s husband, the strange way she had felt glad to have Lancelot as her cousin-in law, the way she had treasured their wedding programme and looked upon their picture every evening before retiring to bed. And in bed she would dream she met a man exactly like Lancelot who wanted to get married to her. Of course those dreams remained a secret; she was sure her aunt would disapprove of such dreams and advise her to be delivered. Now they wanted her in their house, was she ready for this?
“I told Aunt Fatuh about your wish to study in the university and made it sound like we had already made plans for it but she told me it was no problem, Rahila and her husband are willing to sponsor your studies if you will agree to stay a year in their house to help out. After a year you will write JAMB and Post JAMB and once you have passed they will pay for your tuition fees, school materials and clothing, provided you will stay in their house.”

A bright smile lighted up Jane’s face, “That is good news. What did you tell Aunt Fatuh?”

“I told her I will talk to you about it and give her your feedback. She begged me to convince you because Rahila and her husband really need domestic help, they are afraid of bringing in just ordinary house help with all the negative news people tell about them. Besides that, Rahila had specifically asked of you! Jane I think this is from God, I mean think about it, instead of wasting time with me, you can go to Abuja and utilize this opportunity to your advantage.”

“I know Auntie.” Jane said, but then a dejected look fell upon her face. “What about my baby, Auntie?”
Aunt Gloria turned round and looked back at Jane. “Which baby Jane?”

“Auntie! My son- Isaac. Am I going to leave the little angel and go to stay in Abuja?”

Aunt Gloria sighed and drew closer to Jane. Her green flip flops made a somewhat hissing sound; she had just been out of the bathroom.

“You need this opportunity, and Isaac needs you to have a better chance in life for his sake and for yours. Years from now you will think about this day and thank God you took the step to go and pursue a better life. I am certain Rahila and her husband will treat you well. I have been praying ceaselessly for God to open a way for you, I think this is it.”

They turned to look at Isaac who had stopped whatever it was he was doing and was focusing on them.
“I...” Aunt Gloria said, beating her chest, “Will take responsibility for Isaac, his feeding, schooling and care. While you are there in Abuja, I will look after him, when it is time, you can come back for him. He is my grandson; he can stay with me for as long as I am alive. In fact, if you get married and feel the need for him to continue staying with me, he can stay. I am here for you, okay?”

Tears filled Jane’s eyes. She hugged her aunt tight and sobbed. Her aunt patted her lightly on the back .

Today was special; they had to host the Sojis in their home. Mr Bankole Soji was a colleague of his at the hospital. He worked along with Lancelot in the Paediatrics’ ward though he was more advanced in years and had more experience. The wife, Mrs Bankole Soji, was a seamstress who owned a big tailoring outfit in Lugbe. They were coming along with their three kids to spend the Sunday evening with them in their house.

Rahila was at a loss on what to cook and how to cook it. There were vegetables in the refrigerator which she could use to garnish fried rice with, but the problem was she had never made it and was sure it would be a mess. Then there was flour and eggs in the store and she had an excellent idea to make sponge cakes for dessert but she was afraid that would also turn out bad even if she followed the recipe. She was not just good with recipes. The only thing she had done so far was to cook goat meat pepper soup under the supervision of her husband and that had turned out good. She decided that it would be an appetizer. But Lancelot was away to buy ice-cream for the children and left her to take care of the other preparations. Then the thought came to her to call Angela to come over. Angela was not on duty this afternoon and may be available to help her, but what if she refused?

She left the kitchen and came to the dining table where her phone was placed, her long green chiffon skirt sweeping the tiles as she paced. Lancelot had forbidden trousers and shorts for her. He told her he will not have his wife wear things that will draw men’s attention to the shape of her bottom.

The phone rang, Angela’s voice spoke on the other line. “Freno!”

“Dearie, do you have a chance to come and help me out?”

“I do, but not so much time, I have fellowship to get to by five p.m.”

Rahila checked her white coloured wrist watch that her husband was crazy about.

“Babe, it’s 1p.m na. Surely you could assist me for some hours.”

“Food matter, abi?”

“Guessed right. Please be here ASAP, no time left.”

“Kay, I’m on my way.”

Rahila danced around briefly and made her way to the refrigerator to remove the carrots, peas and green beans she had bought. Then she threw them in the sink and ran water on them before putting them in her green bowl for vegetables. She went to the store to fetch another bowl and ended up staring at all the gifts that were still partially wrapped. These were kitchen utensils that were not needed at the moment: ceramic plates, cups, glass bowls, plastic bowls, baking pans, manual blenders, electric blenders, an electric kettle and so many others.

There were other gifts still wrapped lying in the guest room, there had been so many gifts that the couple had grown tired and bored of opening. The most useful of them, which were 2 gas ovens and a freezer, had been opened as soon as they were brought. Pam had sent a Toyota Camry to her after their honeymoon. She had been so shocked and disturbed while Lancelot had simply been flabbergasted.
There was a knock at the door, she opened and Angela came in wearing a silly smile. She was putting on a sky green blouse that was so tight fitting and old looking jeans that were ripped on the knee area. On her hair was a blue bandanna. Rahila had never seen her looking like a gangster before. All the nurses she knew wore smart and pretty looking clothes. Rahila led the way to the kitchen and tried to show her everything they were to use but Angela seemed to know better.

“That pot is too small for the food to go inside, we are cooking for seven mouths you say? And don’t forget I have to eat as well.” She bluntly told Rahila. “These seasoning cubes will not be sufficient, the secret to a tasty food is less salt and more seasoning... Don’t tell me you forgot to buy the thyme, just rush and get it before it is late... Add more butter to this mixture, I will teach you how to make tasty scones... Where is the liver? Fried rice without liver is not fried rice at all.”

By the time they were through with the baking and the cooking, Rahila was glad she had come to help, she let Angela dish as much fried rice as she wanted and take out as many scones as she could. Her husband entered just then, he was shocked to see another woman coming out of the kitchen.

“You remember Angela don’t you? My colleague.” Rahila addressed Lancelot.

“Oh, of course.” He waved his hands by way of greeting and quickly turned his eyes away and went about placing the things he bought in the refrigerator.

A wry smile played on Angela’s face. All these Mountain on Fire men, behaving as if they don’t see other women. Now that his wife can’t cook, he is sure to see me in his house more often, then we’ll see how he will avoid contact with me. She thought.

“Thank you so much Angela, you saved the day.” Rahila gushed.

“Ki ni kon? What’s that? E jare, any time you need help feel free to call me. I have to go now, fellowship will soon start. We’ll see at the hospital.”

“Oh, let me walk you.”

“Ah, no. Your visitors will soon come, set the house in order. Bye.”

“Bye, thanks.”

Lancelot finished arranging the things and looked at his wife. She was looking so pleased. He knew the lady who had just walked out had come to help with the cooking. He did not like her but he could not blame his wife.

“Is everything ready, Dear?” He asked.

“Yes, every single thing. I just need to clear up a few plates; I don’t want Mrs. Soji coming in to see dirty plates in my sink.”

She made to pass him and enter the kitchen but he held her close to him and pecked her on the forehead. They stayed that way for seconds, he sniffed the sweet scent of her hair and she enjoyed the warmth that emanated from him so close to her. Finally they got disentangled and she entered the kitchen. He watched interestingly as she walked, taking one step after the other like a peacock on his display walk, shoulders straight and head erect. She walked like a princess in a movie, in a manner that made one think she had not the slightest worry on earth.

By 5:30 p.m, the Sojis were in their house chatting and joking. The men talked about politics, how President Goodluck was failing and about the scandal of missing oil funds. The women were discussing the stress involved in their work. Mrs. Soji was anxious to brag about how much work she did, especially with her three children
.
The three kids; two boys and a girl were having fun watching cartoons on Disney Junior channel. The girl was the youngest and as she watched, she held tightly one of the stuffed animals; a grizzly bear the size of a six month old child. The other two boys were partly engrossed in the cartoon and partly entertaining themselves with a pinching game. The episode of the cartoon ended and the little girl stood up and went to meet the women who were having a good laugh over some joke.

“Aunty, what about your children?” She asked in the most petite voice looking at Rahila.

Rahila looked at her and for a moment was disconcerted.

“Prisca, Aunty does not have children yet,”
Mrs. Soji answered on Rahila’s behalf. “When you come next year you will meet a tiny baby like this bear you are holding.”

Prisca nodded her head and went back to sit on the rug.

CHAPTER FOUR

The Okafor house was a three bedroom flat painted red and white with a black gate. Inside the house were valuable and colourful pieces of furniture positioned at the right spots and nice abstract paintings hanging on the wall. Their church wedding picture hung at the centre just above the big L.G home theatre.

From all indications, Lancelot Okafor Okoronkwo was a lover of beauty, art, and aesthetics. A huge chandelier hung on the ceiling from which different colourful bulbs shone. Bordering the dining table was a finely built rectangular bar where expensive non-alcoholic wine were stored. Opposite the bar stood a huge shelf with glass doors, there stood books about medicine, history, philosophy, Christian faith and classic Nigerian novels. Upon entering, one would think the house was a grand photo studio. Lancelot had gotten his exquisite taste in design from one of his Senegalese friends who he shared a room with in his days at medical school. The five years he had spent with Ousman in the campuses of the University of Benin had left in him an imprint for artistic works, coupled with that he was a man who believed in impressing others.

Rahila for instance had been impressed the moment she had entered his flat that was located just a few streets away from the Central hospital at Gwagwalada, a district in Abuja. His multicoloured upholstery, emerald design centre table and adorable stuffed animals had warmed her heart. She was a lady who had been brought up in money, but when she saw anything close to wealth, she recognized it. Then he was aware that he was competing for her love alongside Pam, a member of Plateau state house of representatives, whose father was a national figure. Lancelot doubted at that time that she would accept his marriage proposal, however she did and he was forced to believe it was God’s intervention.

It was now six months after their glamorous wedding. Their honeymoon had been abrupt, she had to resume at the private hospital in Abuja which had accepted her application while he had to resume his duties at the Central Hospital Gwagwalada. It was because they had this fact in their minds that they had to spend their honeymoon in Akwa Ibom and not South Africa or Kenya as he had once imagined it would be. Akwa Ibom though had been quite an adventure, they had taken their time to visit all the interesting places and dine in the classiest restaurants.

His mind now went to their first night together at the Olives Hotel; it was nothing more than her coyness that had made it worthwhile.

Twice she had locked the bathroom on entering and had forgotten to dress up in the night dress her best friend had made sure to get for her. Now, it no longer mattered. They were no longer the latest couple. Still, every day was new and exciting for both of them because their friendship was as strong as their love.

Lancelot was proud though that he never allowed any intimate activity between them during their dating and courtship period. He followed his Pastor’s advice strictly by not allowing her to sleep at his place no matter the reason and limiting the time they spent alone. There was a time she had almost slept at his house, not out of any mischievous motive but because they had lost track of time and the night was far spent.

“I will sleep in the living room,” she said to him.

“Oh no, you can’t. How do you expect me to be able to sleep in my room when someone as lovely as yourself will be in my living room? It may be late, but I must drop you off at your best friend’s place.” He had said with a bright smile hoping she would not be offended. But she wasn’t, she agreed with almost anything he said, another trait that made her a wife material.

He remembered how eager his mother was about him getting married to Rahila.

“I have not seen any other girl as gentle and easy going as she is. She will be good for you.” His mother said to him six months after he had introduced Rahila to his family. His father had nothing to say to him about Rahila, as a matter of fact, he hardly had anything to say to anyone concerning any matter. His dementia made it hard for him to articulate his thoughts and say something useful. Yet it was he who had ingrained manly virtues and character into Lancelot. Had it not been for his father, he would probably be a wayward son without any principles and respect for the opposite sex.

Rahila was a favourite in his family, they all thought her to be a saint; perfect and spotless. He alone was aware of her little shortcomings. One of them was the fact that she was a very bad cook. She had confessed this to him during their courtship. She did not know how to make jollof rice taste better than the gruesome stuff a ten year old will cook and her soups and stews were almost always sour.
Now that they were married, he tried to give her a helping hand sometimes and he got her cook books on various Nigerian dishes. The fact that she was a nurse did little to help because when she was in the house she always complained that she was tired.

Lancelot got to know she could not cook well because her parents employed the service of maids: kitchen maids, cleaning maids and laundry maids, the house was full of them. He found it surprising though that she was neat to a fault, but her training in nursing school could take credit for that. Still, he wished she would upgrade her culinary skills.

He hated having to eat in the hospital canteen. As a bachelor, he had imagined eating his wife’s meals during free time from a food flask but he knew now that it was impossible considering her job and the fact that she could not cook well.

“Let’s bring someone over to help you.” He suggested to her recently after an uninteresting meal of beans and yam- the beans had been undercooked.

“So early after our wedding?” She sounded unhappy, “That will not be ideal. I don’t even have any children yet. Apart from that fact, nowadays there are a lot of nasty reports about house maids on social media; I don’t want to take the risk.”

Then learn how to cook. He almost told her aloud. He did not say anything more about the topic but he was sure she would think about it.

I'll be dropping chapter 4 tomorrow. Leave a like, comment or share if you love the story.

Jane searched for her son. “Isaac!” She shrieked.

“Mummy”, her two year old smiling son with a mouth stained with chocolate answered from behind. He was being held by one of her male relatives whose relationship to her she could not quite understand. “My Uncle Daddy carry me”.

“Hi Pretty”, Haruna said.

“Hello Haruna, where did you meet this one?”

“Your cousin Rachel handed him over to me, she has gone to meet one of her boyfriends who came for the wedding. You look good.”

“Thanks, you don’t look bad yourself”.

He did not. He was wearing a black blazer with a white shirt and a white trouser to match. He had black and white designer shoes on and wore black sunshades.

“I’m glad to see you Jane.”

They stood quietly facing each other thinking of something else to say. Isaac observed the awkwardness and decided to say something. “Daddy, my Gwanny give me chocoyate and I eat it”.

Jane sighed abashed. She had scolded and even beat Isaac several times to dissuade him from calling men who came close to her "Daddy", he did not seem to know that it embarrassed her every time. Haruna did not seem to mind.

“Really, where did you put the rest? You ate them all? Don’t you know it will give you a stomach ache?”
They walked to the venue of the reception. It was a vast field that had a nicely cut lawn and a shrubbery of trees- neem trees, frangipanis with creamy flowers and cashew trees providing shade.

“The last time I saw you, you were through with your SSCE exams and had come to spend the weekend at my aunt’s place”. Haruna said.

“Yes”, she answered and tried to remember exactly how both of them were related. She had seen him on many occasions with Aunt Regina, her late father’s first cousin, but she could not quite place him in the family.

“What about Isaac’s real dad? Where is he now?” He asked.

“In Lafia I guess.”

“Have you thought about what you will do if he comes back for you?”

“Come back for me? He dare not. If he tries to harass me I will report him to the police.”

Haruna fixed his gaze on her so that she found herself wondering if it was the proper thing to do. He digressed from the topic and asked her what she planned to study in the University.

“Medicine if I have my way.”

“Medicine is too stressful.”

“Is there a course in this world that is not stressful?”

He laughed, a deep cackle like the shifting of metals. “Medicine is stressful like no man’s business; many students get withdrawn on the way. If your passion is not truly on medicine, I advise you to pick another course that you will be able to cope with.”

Jane fell silent and thought about what he had said. Medicine or Nursing had been the course her aunt wanted her to study saying it suited her since she was neat and smart. She had not really reflected on her passion for the course.

They got to the third canopy that had been set up, it was coloured gold and white and BECKY’S EVENTS was written boldly on it. The ushers were busy arranging the chairs. Some of them were setting up the table for the cake while others were still decorating the couple’s stage with pink, white and gold embroidery.

They sat in the front row. Jane felt free now that she was not being disturbed and irritated by Isaac. He felt happy and at ease in the arms of Haruna who was carrying him for the first time. Haruna, after admiring the ambiance of the reception, broached into chatting about his own course of study in the University. He told her he was studying English Language at the University of Jos. His best poet was Dennis Osadebay, he argued with her that no other Nigerian poet surpassed him, not even Soyinka. He asked what books she read for pleasure. She told him she read novels mostly by female writers: Buchi Emecheta was on the list, including Flora Nwapa, Zainab Alkali, Bessie Head and Chimamanda Adichie.

“Oow”, he sounded like he was purring. “I could die for Chimamanda, her writing style is out of this world.”

Jane nodded gently, “That I have to agree with”.

“Bessie Head writes as if to mystify, I don’t quite enjoy her narration”.

“You would if you studied more of her works. I like female writers a lot, I admire their art”. Jane crooned.
“I hope you are not a feminist?” Haruna said suddenly as if feminists were leprous people.

Jane lifted her eyes and looked into his in a way that showed she was ready to defend feminists with all she had left.

“What is wrong with feminists, Mr Classical Literature?”

“I find them most annoying, all that bullshit about men doing the dishes.”

Jane guffawed, she was not sure feminists advocated for such unreasonable things.

In a few minutes, the reception ground had been transformed to a Disney Palace. Balloons, flowers and colourful dresses of pink and gold adorned the event in a way a tiara adorns the head. The event started soon after the MC, who declared himself to be MC Born Again, announced the reception had started and ordered the DJ to play music for the couple and their train to dance in.

A popular song was played and the couple danced in with the groom’s men and bride’s maids behind them. They danced so well and in tune with the music that Jane knew they had rehearsed so many times.
“What a beautiful couple”, she stated.

Haruna smiled and reached out to hold her hands. She felt uneasy but assured herself that nothing otherwise was going on. She looked around for her cousins, aunt and mother. She saw her mother and aunt in a different canopy that seemed to be majorly for the elderly and respected people in the family. They were caught up in some heated discussion that she was sure was unrelated to the event ongoing. Her cousins were filming and taking pictures of the couple.

Except for the time Isaac asked to be taken to urinate, Jane gave her full attention to the wedding. Unlike most people who looked for things to complain about, Jane was absorbed in admiration of the couple. Tall and huge Lancelot held her slim and fair cousin and they were interlocked in each other’s arms. Rahila wore a thoughtful smile that made Jane wonder what she must really be thinking. Was she really just glad to finally be the wife of this handsome fellow or was there something else she was worried about amidst all the glamour.
She looked at the programme of the wedding which held the picture of Lancelot and Rahila dressed in white about to kiss, she held the programme close to her chest and became lost in the world of imagination. She did not even notice when Haruna collected drinks and handed one to her.

They arrived at COCIN LCC, the church where the wedding was taking place; it was located in the suburb of Rayfield. The church was a grand building with cream-painted walls and stained glass. The fence of the building was colored an impressive white with red bougainvillea hanging proudly. Cars were already parked outside the building and it took some difficulty before they found a parking space.
They found empty seats in the middle of the hall and sat down. Jane watched with keenness the proceedings of the wedding. She felt butterflies in her stomach when Uncle Davou entered hand in hand with Rahila. She looked more pleasant than Jane had imagined her to be. Her white wedding gown sparkled with fluorescence and her steps were measured and calculated with the sort of magnificence the Queen of England would walk with. The sleeves of the wedding gown reached to her wrists, the gown itself was tight fitting and it exposed her cleavages- typical of modern wedding gowns. The veil on her head had golden fastenings and behind the veil, her fair beautiful face radiated. Like a dream unfolding, the wedding played before her misty eyes. She could not suppress herself from feeling lachrymose. Her thoughts wandered to Lafia and back to the wedding.

“We don’t need a big wedding, just something small.” She remembered saying to Pamshak. “I just want us to be married formally”.

“Yes, big weddings are a total waste of money; it’s only a show-off. We will have a court wedding.”

“A court wedding? I was thinking we should first have a church wedding.”

Pamshak sniggered sarcastically, “A church wedding? Who will agree to wed us both in church? No such thing as a church wedding for us babe.”

It was soon time for the vows to be taken. The tall priest in his black cassock recited the nuptial oaths while they repeated after him, each when it was his or her turn. It was then Jane took notice of her cousin-in-law. He was light-skinned, not like his bride was, but his complexion resembled that of Easterners. He was tall and huge, one would be tempted to say he was fat, but chubby would be the right adjective. He had a round face and a neatly trimmed beard. His hair was clipped short and he had big eyeballs that roamed the room like The All Seeing Eyes. He reminded Jane of Emeka, her schoolfellow who gave her a hard time. She soon found out that her regretful thoughts had transcended to admiration.

“Is he from this state?” She asked her mother.

Her mother looked from the podium to her programme. “No”, came her curt reply.

Jane carefully collected the program and studied it. Rachel was holding Isaac who was still engrossed with his chocolate bars. She read the names on the programme, The Family of Paul Davou Dung and Anthony Ezekwelisi Okoronkwo... Rahila Cynthia Dung and Lancelot Okafor Okoronkwo. So her guess was right after all, he was from the east. She tried to guess again how both of them had met; he was one the patients she had treated in Airforce Hospital, he was rich and was the CEO of a big company, he had fallen in love with her after she had taken care of him in the hospital and they had exchanged numbers after which communication between them had become serious, blah blah blah, then he proposed marriage to her during one of their dates at Ostrich Bakery. She had said yes and when she went back to where her friends were, she flashed the diamond engagement ring before their eyes while they looked on with envy. Why did ladies fancy romantic engagements and weddings so much?

The church wedding soon ended shortly after Rahila and Lancelot were pronounced man and wife. The congregation had made a loud exhilarating sound to cheer them on. Jane had expected the kissing part, the interlocking of their lips to produce a beautiful chuck sound, unfortunately kissing in the church was against COCIN's wedding rules. They proceeded outside the church for the wedding pictures.

Outside the church, the newly wedded couple comported themselves like celebrities, everyone was trying to hug them, shake hands with them or take pictures with them while they stood wearing smiles as if all the noise, shuffling and racket made no difference to them. Their hands were clasped and a lot of people had gathered around them to take a picture.

“The Couple and the Dung family!” The photographer announced; aunts, uncles, first cousins and second cousins that Jane had forgotten about gathered round.

Esther pulled at her, “Let’s go snap”.

Jane was nervous, what will she say to Rahila? They had never really been close cousins and now with her marriage she felt they were further alienated. Their eyes finally met.

“Congrats Sister”, Jane said to her before she would take off her eyes.

Rahila looked at her like she did not recognize her. Jane’s mother came to her rescue.

“Rahila, this is your cousin Jane, remember? She came to stay in your house one holiday in 2011”.
There was a lot of clatter and shoving but the bride managed to smile and hug Jane. “You look big now; I heard you were back, sanu, happy to see you.”

Jane smiled broadly, she had not expected a warm hug from her cousin and the thought of a hug from her majestic cousin who acted when they had been together like the world was in her palm, sent those pleasurable electric shocks to her brain. Her cousin was a good lady, no doubt, she was only raised up to believe she was royalty.

“Say CHEESE”, the photographer said and the camera clicked.

CHAPTER THREE

The 17th of December 2012 was a big day for Jane’s family. Her two cousins, Esther and Rachel, were around. The house was boisterous and bubbly as Jane, her cousins and her aunt prepared to attend the wedding of Rahila Dung. Jane’s mother, Caro Dung was dressed and waited for the rest of them to finish so they could all go to the church. She had come with her old Peugeot 504 to convey them to the venue. She was dressed sophisticatedly in a sunshade and high heels. Her pink lipstick matched the color of her purse and her eyebrows were finely shaped. She looked ten years younger and her grandson, Isaac, could not keep his eyes off her tall aligogoro as the two of them sat and waited in the living room.

Caro’s eyes shifted uncomfortably. She was tense at the sight of Isaac. Ever since her daughter had brought him to her house a year ago, she had only seen him on two occasions. She was still not settled with the fact that her daughter had a child and found it somewhat distressing. She did not know how to behave towards this child that looked so much like the man that brought shame to her family. Both of them sat opposite each other in silence stealing glances at themselves.

Minutes later, Aunt Gloria walked into the sitting room dressed the same way as her sister-in-law, though her aligogoro was not as tall. She held a much bigger purse and she was looking through it as she entered.

“I see you have finished,” Caro said.

“Yes, I have, except for...yes yes yes... my perfume.” She went back to her room.

The room fell silent once again and their eyes met each other briefly. Jane entered this time around, the gown she wore was tight-fitting and stopped at her knees. She was a pretty sight to behold. Caro smiled at her daughter. “Omo ge!” She hailed.

Jane smiled and went to her son. She buttoned his shirt properly and tucked it again in the chinos trouser he wore. He looked like one of those rich kids that posed as models on blogs. His hairy eyebrows, long eyelashes, and full hair gave him a supposedly handsome look. Luckily, he took half of his mother’s look so he could pass for a handsome kid.

“Stand upright”, Jane said to Isaac in a tutor’s voice.

Isaac stood up at once. Jane bent down and straightened up his socks so that he looked like a schoolboy. Esther and Rachel entered the sitting room looking more fashionable and elegant than all of them. They had done a lot of makeup and the artificial hair they had plaited was reaching up to their waists. Their heights were intimidating because of the high heels they wore and they carried blue and white attractive purses. In contrast, they had an air of superiority around them, while simplicity was written all over Jane. She was adorned only with a simple gold earring and her face was powdered and instead of lipstick, she had put on lip gloss. Her hair was plaited with black wool and it was packed in a doughnut style.

“Mhmm, fine boy.” She said to Isaac when she was through with dressing him up.

He smiled broadly revealing an incomplete but white set of teeth.

“Let us go, oya, maza. Let us not be late, I want us to sit in front and get the programs.” Aunt Gloria said as she came out of her room.

In the car, Caro handed over some chocolate bars and biscuits she had bought in the supermarket to Isaac. “Here you go, Dear,” she said giving him.

Isaac collected it fixing his eyes on her till his mum interposed.

“Sweetheart, say thank you to Granny”.

“Ank you... Gwanny”.

“Welcome dear”, Caro said and started the car as Isaac got immersed in eating his chocolates.

Chapter 3 will be posted tomorrow. Like, share and comment to encourage me.

Since there was little work to do, Jane’s aunt had free time to get to know her more. Before then, she had never known her niece was a perfectionist. Jane scrubbed the pots so white that she was scared of dirtying them. The upholstery was dusted every single day and the floor was mopped every evening. These were all characteristics of a melancholic. In parenting, Jane transferred her perfectionist desires to raising her son. She bought a whiteboard with markers which she used to teach the Alphabet, numbers, and art to her son. Isaac seemed not to grasp what she taught but made an effort to grab a thing or two just to please his mother who seemed very enthusiastic to see him learn. He could recite A to E and count from 1 to 5, but that was as far as he could go. His favorite subject however was art, he took a keen interest in drawing shapeless objects and scribbling what he referred to as ‘ jaga jaga'. Seeing her son interested in art, Jane purchased drawing books, a magnetic slate, crayons, and pencils and taught her son how to draw circles and make straight strokes. It was fascinating to watch them during their sessions; Aunt Gloria would sometimes chuckle at the sight.

Jane would not hear any advice to let the boy alone till he was 3. She had drawn up a curriculum for him and aimed at making him a genius before his third birthday. She however made an effort to include nursery rhymes, songs, and lots of fanciful colors to attract Isaac’s attention. His favorite rhyme was Pussy Cat Pussy Cat, he recited this whenever anyone said “sing me a song”. At the rate Jane was going, Isaac was going to be smart whether he liked it or not.

In the evening when they had closed the shop, Jane sat in the kitchen making jollof rice for the three of them in the house while Isaac was making a whining noise in the sitting room because she had refused to give him a sweet from the shop saying too many sweets would give him diarrhea. There was a knock at the door, Aunt Gloria went to see who it was and there stood Terry from the next compound.

“Please, I want to see Mummy Isaac”, he said.

Aunt Gloria looked him up and down. So even Terry had started asking her niece out? Terry, who did not even know how to greet his elders and did not like paying his debts, when will someone more responsible ask her out for a change?

“What for? Is there something important?” She asked.

“Yes, please”.

The door closed. A minute later it opened and Jane came out and stood outside with Terry.

“Ehe?” Jane asked.


“I wanted to inform you of Sony’s birthday bash this evening, remember I mentioned it last time?”
“See, Terry, I am busy cooking, I don’t have time for any party”.

“It’s not an ordinary party, oh, it is a bash. I’m talking about a pool party with fireworks, loads of drinks, and live performances. He even invited Jessy Jags and T-Dawg.”

“Whatever!” Jane said, waving her hand in front of Tessy just the way she saw young girls do on T.V. “I have told you to quit bugging me. I am not interested, sò tìgbô? Look, Tessy or whatever you call yourself, I cannot date you because you ain’t in my league man. So, excuse yourself, jôôr ò!” She turned from him smartly and banged the door. She was so angry she did not even notice her aunt moving away quickly from the window where she had been eavesdropping.

“Don’t worry, Isaac, Mama will give you a sweet after you eat your rice eh? Mommy is wicked, she doesn’t want you to have a sweet. She doesn’t even like giving you sugar at all.” Aunt Gloria said to Isaac whose whining had turned to a slow but unmelodic tune. She drew him near to her and cleaned his mucus using his blue T-shirt with a picture of Tom and Jerry in a funny pose. His tune stopped as she did this and his eyes focused on her.

The light from the rechargeable lamp was waning by now. Since it was Saturday it was unusual for them to have power supply from PHCN (Power Holding Company of Nigeria). She should have made the jollof rice herself when it was 4p.m but she felt too lazy. Since Jane had been around she had stopped doing most things in the house. Jane would wake up daily by 5a.m to sweep, dust, mop, and cook breakfast before going to open the shop by 7 a.m. She, Aunt Gloria woke up when she wanted to take breakfast and have her bath and also bathe her grand nephew. She would then put on the T.V so they could watch cartoons and when she felt like visiting any of her friends she would drop Isaac off with his mum and come back by noon to stay in the shop while Jane went into the house to cook lunch. Jane did not feel she worked too hard. While she was in the shop she entertained herself by reading novels by Nigerian authors or browsing the Internet on her new smartphone given to her by one of her cousins who came on break to the house.

The only thing which bothered Jane was the fact that she was not in school. Outside of that Jane was happier and more content. Her aunt would watch her from the corners of her eyes or eavesdrop on her conversations with people to find out if she showed any signs of discontentedness but found none at all. When her two daughters were around she would still do the normal chores she did in the house except she was offered assistance and she never begged her cousins for any of their clothes or shoes. She would only ask them to tell her about life on campus and how they coped with lectures. She was always happy to see them knowing that it would distract her son’s attention from her for a few days.

Isaac was a child very much attached to his mother. Even when Aunt Gloria showered him with things, he preferred to be pampered by his mum. It was a big crisis when the time to wean him came: Jane had to go to her mother's place for a week while Isaac stayed with her. That one week was like hell to her because Isaac cried every single minute and did not allow her to sleep at night. On Sunday when Jane came back, he still remembered her breasts and wanted to suck but Jane was so angry she gave him the beating of his life and told him:

“If you ever touch these breasts again I will kill you with caning”. She had sounded so serious that Isaac believed her and Aunt Gloria wondered if she loved Isaac or was bound to him only as a matter of duty.
Her canings were more frequent than her treats, despite this, Jane was his favorite companion. They nicknamed him Chewing Gum because he stuck to her like glue. One day Aunt Gloria remarked out of concern when his whines became incessant:

“Perhaps he misses his father”.

Jane acted like she had not heard what she said.

“Somewhere in his mind he still remembers a man who used to raise him high in the air and pat him when he cried. Children have good memories, you know; it could be that he wants to see his dad.”

“Nothing of that sort Auntie, this scallywag here is only out to drain all the energy from me, but I will, first of all, give him a good caning.”

“He is a little boy, caning him now will not do him any good. He just needs more coaxing, that's all.”

“I have tried that Auntie, but it didn’t work, and that’s why I resorted to beating him.”

“If you beat him, he will cry more and the noise will become more unbearable for you which will get you stressed out.”

From then on when Isaac cried at inappropriate times, she overlooked him and let him cry the way he wanted. This certainly was no way to treat a child but Aunt Gloria understood that Jane was young and had passed through difficult times of abuse, it was possible she still thought of the hurt she experienced, and when Isaac cried that way she became embittered not, particularly because she blamed him but because she had no other way of coping with the pain. When Isaac saw his mum ignore him at certain times, he took comfort in other people consoling him, though he quickly forgot his mother’s snobbish behavior and would break away from whoever was cheering him up to go play with his mum.

Jane’s mother worked in the State Government Secretariat as a Civil Servant. Though she was a senior worker, her salary was not regular. Sometimes three months would elapse before she would receive one month’s salary which was not always complete. Strikes even made things worse as the government refused to pay the workers for the months they were striking. To survive these months of no salary, she had to borrow and pay when she received her salary. Hers was a hard knock life. Even then she was still better off than most people who had no jobs at all. Her husband, Jane’s father, had also been a civil servant who died as a result of sickness. His hard-earned savings were used to conduct his burial.

Inside Mama Jane’s sitting room, the two sisters talked about Jane’s future and the welfare of her son, Junior. Mama Jane suggested they meet Pamshak’s mother, who lived on the next street to convince her to contribute to her grandson’s welfare. Jane rejected the idea; she did not want anything to bring her close to Pamshak. She would rather stay with Aunt Gloria and help with the store. What about her education? The two women asked. God would help her, Jane answered. She would look out for any business she could do or any job she could take that would enable her to save for her tertiary institution.
Jane and Junior followed her aunt back to Terminus that day. Her mum reversed the curse in their presence and prayed for her daughter to do well in life.

Jane became a salesgirl in her aunt’s provision store. Her aunt gave her 5 thousand naira every month. She bought toiletries for herself and her child and saved 1 thousand naira in the corporative bank. Her search to find something better to do was slow and yielded no results. She dropped resumes in schools and eateries advertising for cleaners and cooks but got the we-will-get-back-to-you reply. At the end of six months, she became frustrated and disappointed. She stopped submitting resumes.

A year passed, Jane and her son who she had renamed Isaac had added weight compared to how they were when they just came. Isaac was now 2 years and could talk to some extent as well as understand when people talked to him. He called Aunt Gloria "Mama", and called his mother "Mummy". They all spoke English to him but he could understand Hausa as well because it was spoken in the house and by the kids in the compound. One day, after Isaac’s second birthday, Jane had finished attending to a customer when Aunt Gloria entered the store.

“There is a wedding coming up, Jane”.

“Whose wedding?” Jane asked.

“You know Uncle Davou’s first daughter, the one who went to Nursing school and was working as a nurse in an Airforce hospital?”

“Oh, I know her well, Rahila”.

“Yes, Rahila. She is the one getting married in the next three months.”

Jane tried to picture Rahila. Rahila was her cousin who was older than her with a ten years gap or so. The last time they met was when Jane was in SS2. It was during the Christmas break and Uncle Davou had invited her over to his house in Rayfield. She had been overjoyed knowing that meant she would stay in a big man’s house, in a big man’s area, and eat a big man’s food.

Rahila was a beautiful classy girl as she remembered and she hardly spoke to Jane. Every day Jane saw girls of Rahila’s age come to the house to see Rahila. Some were in Nursing School like her cousin had been while some were studying in UniJos or working as nurses in a hospital. None of them would even take note of her; they would think she was the housemaid. Jane would sit in the dining room listening attentively to their discussions, fascinated at their mannerisms and idiosyncrasies. She would watch one-eyed as they exchanged their blackberry phones and talked about the latest things: the latest phones, the latest songs, the latest Hollywood movies, and the latest fashionable styles.

Jane would leave when Aunt Fatuh called her or when her male cousin who was her age mate came to the dining room with his friends. She had always fancied Rahila, snub though she was, and thought someday she will be like her.

Now Rahila was going to be married. She had waited till she was 30, had waited till she had climbed her academic ladder, had waited till she had accomplished her career goals. She was probably still chaste and her beauty was still intact. She would get married in pomp and glamour, wear a beautiful wedding dress, hold a bouquet and walk gently in the arms of her father with everyone’s eyes on her, her fixed eyelashes blinking excessively from shyness, eyes fixed on a man who had paid her bride price. She will be wedded properly while she, Jane, with all her academic brilliance had messed up big time by cohabiting with a useless boy who did not even know how to tie his belt properly, who had given her nothing to show for other than a 2-year-old son who wailed all the time. Very beautiful Jane, you have done it this time, haven’t you? She heard her subconscious mock.

Aunt Gloria caught the change in her mood and tried to make her feel better.

“I know what you must be thinking. You must be thinking that you failed yourself by rushing to get pregnant for a nobody while your elder cousin took her time and is now going to be married to someone responsible in a proper way. True. But then don’t worry yourself, you can still achieve your dreams and settle down with a good person, someone who will wipe away your tears and make you happy all the time.”

“But it won’t be the same thing as marrying without a child born out of wedlock.” Jane reasoned aloud.

“Rubbish, so what? Will you allow your child to spoil your happiness? He is a gift from God. You are going to be happy in life, okay? Just let that sink into your mind. It does not matter how bad you may have messed up, what matters is that you have come back to your senses and you are ready to move forward, and you will.”

Jane smiled. At least there was someone who believed she would do well in life. Maybe things were going to get better, she had to start seeing positive things as well.

“I have gotten the material for the relatives from our side. Look at it, is it not pretty?” Aunt Gloria produced a silk material with blue, pink, and white designs.

Jane felt the material, she knew nothing about the worth of Nigerian wrappers but she knew certainly this particular one was really beautiful. “It looks pretty, Auntie”.

“I had to pay 8 thousand naira for twelve yards. I want you, me, and my two daughters who are coming to sew something from the material”.

“That’s good Auntie, thank you for including me.”

Aunt Gloria smiled. She was very fond of Jane because she reminded her of herself as a young girl. She was really happy Jane was no longer with Pamshak, she felt her niece did not deserve to be tied down too early in life without her dreams fulfilled and without quality education. What was worse was the fact that Pamshak was not responsible at all and had disgraced the family. She could not do much anyway for Jane, but she tried in little ways to please her young niece who was now 21. Every night she prayed for a miracle to happen so Jane could further her education, if only she herself had gone far in school. She had only gone as far as SS3 and had married when she was 22 because she believed there was no longer a need to go to University since her husband was successful in business. Now her husband was no more alive and she had to use the rent from the house to settle her two daughters' school fees. Education was very important for every child regardless of sex or ethnicity. That was what she always told girls around her.
Jane’s hopes for a brighter future on the other hand dwindled with every passing day. She had gotten in touch with some of her classmates in high school and they seemed to be doing better than her. Planang now lived in Abuja with her uncle and was studying Accounting at the University of Abuja. Some of her other mates had even graduated and were waiting to be mobilized for NYSC (National Youth Service Corps). It was a pity all she had to be proud of was a good school leaving result. Her best friend Planang would call her every Sunday. They would talk for some minutes and she would greet little Isaac who she called My Angel. Planang was the one who still encouraged her and told her not to settle for anything less than what she was worth. That meant relationships as well, Planang made it clear to her that she, Jane, had no business dating a guy who could not offer her a better life.

“You have to learn from your mistake Jane”, Planang will say, “I am sure you don’t want any man living off your hard work? You owe Isaac a better life”.

CHAPTER TWO
A week after Jane had come back to Jos, she went to see her mother to apologize for her wrongs. She was accompanied by Aunt Gloria who assisted in carrying the child and also pleaded on behalf of Jane.

“When a baby bites a mother’s nipple, she slaps the baby but does not hamper him from sucking her milk,” Aunt Gloria was pleading. She wore a blue buba and Junior was huddled up at her side. He was dressed in his fine overall jeans with a white shirt beneath and his eyes were fixed on his grandmother who could not help looking his way.

“Jane has wronged us all, but we cannot continue to bark over the disgrace she caused us. We have to forgive her especially as she has asked for pardon. Let us pardon her and give her and this child another opportunity.”

Mama Jane spat on the ground, she was sitting on the veranda outside her house. Other neighbors had withdrawn to give them privacy but some inquisitive ones pretended to be busy so they could eavesdrop. “Pardon her? Pardon her, you say? There is nothing to pardon in this matter. My neighbors will bear me witness- they are around”. She stretched her hands to point at the neighbors outside who by now were feigning serious activities. “They were here when Jane and I used to disturb the compound. I will run around with a cane in my hand trying to correct this girl, shouting at her at the same time about the dangers of premarital sex and that that good-for-nothing boy was only trying to destroy her future. Haba, at least she would have been ashamed to follow him so that our neighbors would not mock us.

“Was it not you, Gloria, who came from your house when I told you the rubbish decision she had made? You came in a haste to try and talk sense into her brain to dissuade her from making the worst decision of her life, ama ina, this foolish girl did not listen. Bro Davou even suggested we call the police to lock up the boy for inviting her over but we all agreed the accusation will be baseless. This is a girl I suffered to train in school; I borrowed money from my cooperative societies just to pay her school fees. Had I known I would have put her in a public school, what a waste?” She sneered at Jane.

“Ah-ah, ah-ah, she is not a waste. All is not lost”, said Aunt Gloria.

“This one, can she ever amount to anything again? With a baby to feed and take care of, the only good thing she can do for herself is to fry yams in the evenings and take sewing classes in the mornings.” Mama Jane said, turning her face to face the door.

Aunt Gloria made a signal to Jane so she could take up the plea. Jane knelt on the ground. “Mummy, please I am sorry, please I am sorry. I don’t know what came over me; I wish I could erase my mistake. Every bit of what I did makes me feel bad that I cry over and over at the thought of how I followed that boy.”

Mama Jane hissed and adjusted her wrapper. She refused to look in the direction of Jane. “Even if I forgive you, you will still disappoint me again. It is written all over you. You cannot control your body when a man comes near you.”

“If you give me another chance I will be a good child. I will not bring shame to you again. I have learned my lesson.” Jane said in between tears.

“Mama Jane, please forgive her. You can see she is sorry. We are all human and we make mistakes. Forgive her and support her so she can make us proud tomorrow. Dan Allah.”

They continued pleading till Mama Jane could no longer decline. She told them to enter the house. When they all entered she used her wrapper to dry the little tears that had been forming which she had been suppressing.

“Kai!” She exclaimed before standing up to enter the house too.

Chapter 2 will be posted tomorrow. Like, share and comment to encourage me.

“Pamshak,” she called and walked faster, “Pam, Pam please...” She caught up with him and his speed decreased. She looked at him or rather he looked at her and she was startled to see him crying. She hugged him abruptly, pressing her chest hard on his own.

“Why offer me your sympathy? Go and pursue your future so you can get all the handsome rich boys you want.” He said in-between sobs.

“You are my handsome rich boy. It is you I want, forget Planang, and forget what she said.”

“You were sitting there doing nothing when she called me dull, local, and below your level, weren’t you? She said I don’t have plans for my life, isn’t it? See eh, just leave me alone, I can’t take this. Leave me now, I have a temper, leave I said!"

“I won’t leave you. You know nothing bad anyone says of you will water down my love for you. You are my muse, my everything. Pam, I can’t do without you, please don’t leave me, I beg you.” She began to cry, it was his turn to hug her and the hug lasted for over a minute.

“Do you love me, Baby J?” He called her Baby J.

“Yes Pam, I do.”

“Would you prove it to me?”

She nodded.

He took her hand and led her to his house. It was quiet when they got there because it was late at night. He opened the door to his room, she was apprehensive but she tried her best to look poised. The door gave way and both of them entered. They sat on his bed holding each other for some minutes. Jane noticed his bed, reading table and bags were the only properties in the room. She wondered how poor his family was. Before she knew it he had started unbuttoning her blouse.

“No...” She struggled to restrain him from removing her clothes.

“If you do this with me, we would be one.” He said to her, “Baby J, I can’t live without you and you said the same of me. I know right now I have nothing to offer you but I will work hard to make sure we both achieve our dreams. I cannot concentrate if you are not by my side, I want you to come to stay with me in Lafia where I have got some work to do. With time when I have saved, I will come to pay your bride price so you can officially become my wife. What do you say to that?”

“I can’t go to stay with you in Lafia, it’s not proper. My mum and family members will frown at it. If you want to marry me, let’s do it properly. We will have a church wedding and we will invite all our mates to witness it.”

“We will have a wedding, quite okay, but for now we can still be together.”

“As what, Pam? As what?” There was anger in her tone, for a brief moment she thought of what Planang had said and foresaw he wanted to crush her bright hope.

“As lovers. Many lovers do it nowadays, it’s not something strange. You said you loved me, maybe your love is not as strong as mine because I can do anything for you but you can’t. You think I am a loafer like your friend said, right? No problem.”

“It’s not the way you see it, Pam. What about my family?” Her voice was pleading and he caught desperation in it.

“Look, I put you first above my family and I can say ‘to hell with anybody that does not accept'. See, you need to have this die-hard mentality; people will not always accept your worldview. You cannot please everyone, can you?”

Jane started to think about what he was saying but knew it would take a lot on her part. What would all her mates think of her when they got to know? They would be so disappointed. He started to kiss her on her neck till she finally succumbed to his will.

When Jane came back from her reverie, she was shedding hot tears; they wet the pillow and ran down the tip of the blanket. She was such a fool to have let herself be deceived by a good-for-nothing man who only added misery to her life.

She looked down at Junior sleeping peacefully. His body heaved up and down as he breathed. All over his face was spelled innocence and calm. She would have left him with his father to cope, but could not for several reasons. His father would never care for him better than she would and she did not want Junior to become like his dad in character. Already he bore striking resemblance to his father much to her annoyance. But she loved him all the same, though sometimes she felt as though her life would have been easier without a child to make demands.

Junior seemed to be so addicted to her breast that even in his sleep he sucked an invincible breast. When he was awake he always wanted her attention and cried over every minute issue. She knew if her father were still alive, he would advise her to leave the child with his father so she could go on and have a better future, a future her ex almost truncated.

Her ex, it was funny when she thought of the word ex. Fancy her chatting with her friends and saying “my ex”. She pronounced the word to feel how it would sound in her mouth and she thought it sounded superb, not weird as she thought it would. She thought about her education, how will she further her education with Junior by her side, and who will pay for her tuition? Her mother had sworn not to take her back if she came crying but excluding that, she learned from her aunt that her mother was now heavily indebted from all the money she had borrowed to pay her school fees in a prestigious school.

Thunderstruck and almost immediately rain started falling. Jane smiled as she heard the sound of rain, it was soothing, and ever since she was a child she always thought it was God’s way of telling her everything would be alright. She listened intently as the raindrops hit the zinc outside, it sounded like the drums beaten during presentations by Sabon Rai. They gradually slowed to a soft pelting, that was when she took out her diary and began to write. Aside from talking to her son, this was another escape mechanism that helped her cope with her abusive relationship; the latter was more dangerous and might have caused her serious beatings.

They were both students of Noble Minds Academy in Rukuba road. The school fees were high but her mother always managed to pull the money together to pay as she believed the school helped Jane’s academic aptitude. Jane worked hard at school and was top of the science class in SS1A. In the second term they had a new student, he was tall, lanky, fair, and good at cracking jokes. What he lacked in good looks, he made up for in smooth talk and great dress sense. Jane did not take much notice of him even though many of her female classmates hung around him during recess. However, she was surprised one day when the new boy walked up to her during closing and said, “Excuse me, Ma’am, I would like to be your escort for today.”

She turned to look at him intending to rebuff his offer but when he extended his hand to collect her Winnie the Pooh bag, she felt all of a sudden dazzled by his presence, his camaraderie, and his cool flamboyance. He was not so handsome but he made a good impression with his neatly ironed uniform and his sweet-smelling perfume that sent her brain to Neptune. His hair was shaved to compliment his lanky look and Jane noticed he applied white powder to his face and lip gloss to his lips. “I do not need anyone to be my escort”. She managed to say.

He insisted, “I have noticed since I came to this school that you don’t leave in the company of anyone."

“So?”

“So I have decided to be your chaperon.”

“Don’t you have important things to do? I live a bit far from the school.”

“If you have not observed, we live close to ourselves on Sparkling Street.”

“Oh,” Jane said, a little flushed, and began walking. Pamshak followed with her bag in his left hand and her heart in his right.

Days on they were what students referred to as five and six. They came to school together, hung together during recess, and when the school closed they accompanied each other home. Months went by and Pamshak swore his undying love to Jane. His words enthralled her, she had never met a poet as pleasant with words as he was and soon she agreed to be his girlfriend. He wrote love poems for her occasionally and his texts were always poetic.
Jane struggled not to lose her grades but could not stop the gradual descent of her scores right up from Maths to Biology. She could not help it; her head was in the clouds. Each time she opened a book to read she imagined Pamshak’s sweet words penned down in beautiful calligraphy. She was always fantasizing about her life with him and how they would raise their family. Her mother noticed her daughter’s nonchalance towards studies and the fondness she displayed for Pamshak who she sensed was a bad influence on her daughter. She took to caning Jane and nagging at her.

Jane was also worried about her studies but she could not concentrate on her books especially as Pamshak had introduced smooching to their relationship. He had told her it was harmless but it always made her feel so high and even when she left him she missed it and wanted it badly. By the time she was in SS3, she had dropped from third in her class to fourteenth.

During the break that preceded her WAEC and NECO exams, Pamshak traveled to the village to get money from his uncles. The absence of her boyfriend had given her the chance to study hard; he did not however resume in time after the holiday. Jane buried her head in her books so much that her mother was scared she was overreading. When Pamshak resumed, the timetable for WAEC had already been pasted and he had to also read so there was no time for smooching for any of them.
Jane surprised everyone with her WAEC and NECO results where she made distinction. She got the best result in her class set. Her mother was so happy she carried her on her back and danced round the compound so that soon everyone knew she had made a good result. Her Principal, Mrs. Simi Pam, congratulated her in the presence of other students and promised her she could come and teach in the school any time she wanted.

Many of her mates also came around her to felicitate with her and some that were at loggerheads with her before times befriended her upon hearing the news. They all thought she stood a better chance of success in life. They had their graduation party on the 30th of July 2009 in the Amo Suites Hotel. During the general dance, every boy was trying to dance with her or embrace her, she was so embarrassed she left the stage and came to sit with her best friend, Planang.

“Now that you have graduated from Secondary School, Jane, you need to get rid of this grasshopper of a boyfriend,” Planang said to her over their Amstel Malta drinks.

“Are you nuts? I love Pamshak”. She said with a frown.

“What kind of old love is that?” Old was a word that meant boring or stupid in their school. “That guy is just a parasite; you know in a parasitic relationship, the parasites are the only ones who benefit. That guy has added nothing to you since you have been dating him. Can you name any good thing he has done for you ever since apart from rousing your hormones?” Planang asked, looking Jane fixedly in the eyes.

Jane scratched her palms.

“Nothing!” Planang said, “You code my paro don’t you? See you be fine babe wey get sharp brain, no be say you dey use chokes like the rest of us dey use. If you jack you dey grab. This guy no dey your level again babe. See I dey tell you to forget this old guy concentrate for your future. You go see better guy wey clean, hans, come get money to spend on you wey go follow you. No be this stingy, dull, local dude wey no get plans.”

“But I love him,” Jane replied.

“See I go give you beta blow. E be like say you no grab wetin I don tell you. That guy is a nonentity and he plans to lead you to the land of mediocrity. A fine intelligent girl such as you deserves more than that loafer has to offer. Cut off from him and focus on building your future. Go to Higher Institution, get good grades, get a good career, then you will see guys better than Pamshak begging for your hand in marriage. What is this foolish relationship?”

She had not ended when they heard a grunt behind them. They turned and saw Pamshak, his eyes were red and looked teary and his face was cold. He was frowning and his veins stood out from their hiding. He was holding a bottle of Gordon Spark, he let go of the bottle and it fell on the ground breaking into pieces.
Everybody turned to get a glimpse of what was happening. Conscious of the attention he had generated, he slowly walked out of the hall where the party was going on. The music resumed, and the D.J decided P’Square’s Wahala Dey would fit the occasion. The students soon forgot about the drama and started dancing. Jane looked at Planang, she was sipping her malt drink casually, unperturbed. This annoyed Jane so much that she left her, came out of the hall, and ran after Pamshak. He was walking briskly to Sparkling Junction, his jacket was spread on his back and his hands were in his pocket.

For a long time now Jane’s eyes were fixed on the wooden center table while Aunt Gloria ranted her heart out, still shocked at the sudden emergence of Jane with a son. She was reprimanding her niece for the disgraceful act she carried out with that good-for-nothing man who could not even afford to buy a goat for her mother. And now she had seen for herself what the man was capable of doing. How did she think she was going to cope now with a child? The question lingered in the air like an airborne disease waiting to spread.
Jane adjusted her gaze now to face the ceiling with its dark patches that formed what looked like circles or faces. She had expected this sort of reaction but had not gotten prepared for the answers.

There was no time to get prepared, fear was the only thing that had propelled her in Lafia to pack up and leave. She dreaded Junior’s dad walking behind her to see her attempting to get away and imagined then what he would have done. He probably would have given her a blow that would have sent her falling face down on the gravel, breaking her nose and injuring her mouth with the baby at her back crying helplessly. Then he would have removed the baby from her back, set him on the ground, and used the shoe on his leg to kick her till she bled. It terrified her just to think about it.

“You heard how your mother cursed you that you would amount to nothing. When you have rested here for some time you would need to go to her and apologize so she can lift away that curse. It is very bad to be cursed by a mother, especially in that kind of circumstance.”

“Yes, Auntie. Please, I am very sorry for how I misbehaved. I will never lose my senses over a man like that again.”

“You had better not. I don’t even know what came over you then, you were such a good girl and very intelligent too. No one would have believed you would do a stupid thing like that. You would have been in the tertiary institution by now. At least we would have gotten you a place in Nursing School, you... the only child of your mother. She placed so much hope on you. Anyway, thank God you came to your senses and left before he saddled you with more children and maybe even an S.T.D.” She paused and continued, “Why did you not inform me you were coming?”

“Ah, Auntie, that man collected my phone when we argued one time. I told him I wanted to call my mother to hear how she was and he just seized the phone and removed my SIM.”

“Imagine!” Aunt Gloria folded her hands and then released them again. “That is what you get when you go off to live with an animal with no home training; he will abuse your life till there is nothing left to abuse. I just hope God heals you of the entire trauma you have passed through. You need to go through a long recovery and rediscovery; you need to know how to tell a fake man from a real man. It is well eh, my daughter. God will help you. Let me turn the tuwo and serve you and your son.”

They talked for a long time after Junior had his bath and slept. It was mostly Aunt Gloria doing the talking with Jane answering questions or making some cynic remarks about Pamshak, the man who she was once crazy about. Finally, her aunt left her to sleep saying they would continue another day. Jane closed the windows; two years out of Jos had not been able to wipe off the memory of Jos cold from her mind. She still remembered vividly how cold it could get especially at night and in the mornings. The last time she had slept in this particular room, her cousins Esther and Rachel were with her. According to Aunt Gloria, Esther was now in her second year at Plateau State University, Bokkos while Rachel was doing Remedials in the University of Jos. She envied her cousins secretly. She knew if she had not run off with Pamshak 2 years ago, she also would have advanced in her education.
She changed into the yellow maternity nightgown that allowed her to breastfeed at night. She recalled how many times Pamshak had called it annoying and unattractive because it was big and opaque. He was fond of criticizing her dress sense and compared her to other girls in the vicinity where they lived.

“How old are you now? Just 19, and already you dress like a mother of 6. Shut up! When I am correcting you, that's the time you bring up your excuses. Buy tight-fitting gowns and skirts that will reveal your shape. That is how to keep your man.” He would say to her when she changed into her nightgown. Then he would let out a hiss so long that if it could be measured it would be the distance from Jos to Kaduna.

“Wear fitting dresses, ina (no way). Put on earrings, I have to remind you first. Make your hair look attractive, even that is too difficult for you and some girls make hair around here. Look I am tired of all these, your dressing is too Deeper Life for my liking.”

“And what’s wrong in looking Deeper Life? Look how he is talking as if he gives me money to make myself presentable. Soup wey sweet, na money kill am.”

He would then stare at her so intensely without saying anything, that would send shivers down her brain. She would climb the bed silently and say her prayers without bothering to ask him to join, he did not believe in prayers or the like. Then she would lie down facing her child anticipating when he would wake up to suck, Junior would not wake up to suck so soon but she would rather face her little child than the grown-up woman beater behind her. She would soon fall asleep only to be jerked awake late in the night by Pamshak.
A wry smile lit up her face as she sank into the warm blanket as soft as fur and thick as the earth. There would be no one to jerk her awake anymore, no one to cause her insides to be sore, and no one to slap her if her shrieks were starting to sound louder. She was free from tyranny. For many months now she had imagined a world free from Pamshak. It had not seemed possible then because he had threatened that if she ever left him, he would find her, kill her and take away his son. But she was brave enough to plot an escape and it had been successful. Pamshak would be too scared to come looking for her among her people, besides he did not know Aunt Gloria’s house.

He would probably just miss them a little and get over it. In a year to come, she knew he would have already settled with another girl who he would assault and mug. She took a deep breath and exhaled as her mind took a reverse turn to the time they both met.

CHAPTER ONE

The day Jane absconded from Pamshak’s abode was the 13th of September 2011. The air was humid and the wind was blowing gently; it was a sign of rain and a sign of a new beginning for her and her son. The driver stopped the Sienna in the N.U.R.T.W Park, off Secretariat Junction in Jos. Jane, tired and hungry, came out carrying Junior who was fast asleep. She entered a green and yellow colored autorickshaw and paid her fare. The autorickshaw stopped at the Terminus roundabout. She smiled as she skimmed through the center of the metropolis. Nothing much had changed. The Terminus tower was still in ruins and the traders with their local wares occupied the streets with their goods for sale. Hausa traders were selling their gonjo (used clothing), attractive easy wears, and fruits. Some Ibo traders spread their second-hand books or some displayed motivational books on stands. In between, they were classy boutiques, posh supermarkets, and attractive eateries.

Every woman’s dream is to be loved and cared for by the man she calls lover. But when that dream is shattered, her life becomes miserable, despondent, and gloomy. That was the life of Jane Dung. She had built her hope on Pamshak, her High School lover, and had dreamt of a life of bliss with him; what she got instead was agony. Things had begun well when they had eloped to Lafia to be together against the advice of their families. Their relationship had been enviable and Jane had envisaged Pamshak was the man who would understand her. Nine months later, Junior was born: a trophy that would solidify their union. Unfortunately, that was the beginning of her predicament. He started becoming irritable, abusive, and petulant. He smoked marijuana often and was constantly moody.

Pamshak’s cruelty and insensitivity worsened as Junior grew older. He frequently whipped her when she offended him and sometimes strangled her for a brief moment just to torture her. After a year, Jane could not endure it any longer. In the daytime when he was away, she packed some things, whisked her son, and left Lafia to go back to Jos.

The noise and rustle of the highway roused Junior. He was startled when he looked up and observed the change in location and weather, but he seemed delighted like he had anticipated the move. He chuckled in a soft tone that teased her senses and made her smile involuntarily.

“Now we are free from that tyrant called your father.” She said, looking at him.

Junior smiled in response though he did not understand what she meant.

“The only person that will accommodate us now is Aunt Gloria. Thank goodness she stays in Panyam Street.”

“Payam”, Junior tried to repeat.

“Yes, yes. Panyam street is not far from here. All we need to do now is take a motorcycle that will drop us at her house. I am so hungry now and you need a warm bath.” Jane had gotten accustomed to talking to Junior regardless of if he understood her or not. It was one of the things she used as an outlet for her pain. It gave her comfort that Junior was always there to listen to her talk. Sometimes he would nod his head, attempt to repeat a word in her sentence, smile or better still give her a bear hug whenever he noticed she was shedding tears.

The motorcyclist stopped at number 23 Panyam Street in front of a black gate at around 4 p.m. She alighted and gave him 50 Naira after which he zoomed off. Here they were in front of Aunt Gloria’s house, yet she felt trepidation as she stood there, baby in her left hand and 'Ghana-must-go' bag in her right. Her blue and white lace cloth was soaked in Junior’s urine from their journey to Jos. She took a shallow sigh and ventured to open the black gate, half nervous and half wondering how her aunt would react to her unscheduled arrival. She made her way among the anciently painted rooms and climbed the stairs that led to the house where her aunt, who was the landlady dwelled.

Aunt Gloria came out of her bungalow after she heard a knock, for a moment she stood there mesmerized as if she had seen her late brother’s ghost. Standing in front of her was Jane, her late brother’s daughter who had eloped with a young man 2 years ago.

“Wai ne su wanan? (Who are these?)” She asked in Hausa.

“Auntie, ni ne, Jane, de Yaro na (It’s me, Jane, and my son)”. Jane said looking down, little drops of tears had immediately lined up in her tear ducts.

“Almasihu! (Messiah!)” Aunt Gloria exclaimed and enclosed Jane and her son in a big embrace.

© 2025 Shalom Minaan David
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or using any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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BEFORE I BLEED
© Shalom M. David



Dear God,
Today I write my last words to you. My heart is so heavy. I cannot speak to you audibly. It's been a month and six days since I opened my mouth to talk to you. I am so bruised and broken, so lost and confused. I never wanted to speak to you again but since today will be my last here on earth, I might just as well write this letter to you and break my silence.

Dear God, I am tired of this damn life. I'm tired of trying to make it work when it's only getting worse. I'm sick of the frustration and desperation I have to face. I'm sick of everyone telling me how I've failed. I'm sick of being judged, criticized and condemned.
The world you made is a prison, this life you gave me is a cell and guess what? You are the prison warder. I don't need to tell you why I've come to this conclusion. I don't need to explain why I'm sick of this life you gave me. You already know what I went through- what you allowed me go through. You are responsible for all the wrong that I experienced. I served you faithfully for many years but you allowed me suffer. Why shouldn't I take my life away? Why shouldn't I pierce myself with this knife that is before me? Life is a living hell so I might just well die, but before I bleed to death, let me appease myself and conscience.

I want to give you a piece of my mind and tell you how I feel. I feel hurt, betrayed by you and deceived. Why did you promise me a good life when all I got was wretchedness? I will remind you of how it all started and why I am justified to take my life.

I was a victim of abuse when I was a kid. I was four years when my step dad started abusing me sexually. I cried every time it happened till I could not cry anymore. I hated him so much and wished he died. But he continued molesting me until I became 11. I don’t know why he suddenly stopped after I turned 11. All I can remember is that he stopped tiptoeing into my room at midnight and stopped calling me into his room when Mom was not at home. I didn’t tell anyone about it except my best friend Anna. When she heard it, she asked me to close my eyes, she took my little hands in hers and whispered a prayer, “Lord, please make this mountain go away.”

Now that I think about that incident, I can’t help but wonder if you were the one who made that mountain go away. Perhaps it was you because not long after Anna prayed with me, my step dad stopped molesting me. I have to thank you for that, but that is just one thing I can say I am grateful to you about.

My stepdad left my mom soon after and we were plunged into poverty. I remember how she struggled with raising me and my three siblings. She entered one debt to another just trying to pay our school fees, feed us and clothe us. Nevertheless, she remained faithful to you. She believed in you, prayed to you, devoted her time to the church and raised us up to believe in you. We all believed in you and prayed you would turn our poverty around. But what did you do? You sat up there in your throne and watched us in silence as if our prayers were nothing. How could you be so cruel to people who believed in you and devoted their lives to serving you? We were taught that you were a loving God who answered the prayers of those who trusted in you, but you left us to suffer.

We suffered mockery from people around us. We couldn’t pay our bills, we were frequently sent home from school due to our inability to pay the fees on time and we barely managed to feed. My mom turned down several offers from men because she wanted to obey your words, but instead of blessing her, you only watched as things became worse. There was even a time I was down with malaria and she could not take me to hospital. I became so sick and I almost died. I started convulsing and felt life going away from me, my sister got hold of my hands and started praying, “You shall not die Delight, I rebuke every spirit of death hovering around you. You shall live to declare the goodness of the Lord. Delight, you shall live and not die. Your purpose on earth must come to pass.” From my semi-conscious state, I heard her shout those words and I slowly came back to consciousness.

I think I owe that miracle also to you. I realize I could have died at that point but it was you who delivered me from the hands of death. Alright, you got me. But what’s the point of being alive when nothing good comes out of it?

You let my mom die just when I graduated from high school. You took her away when we needed her most. I was forced to abandon my plans of going to the university and start working menial jobs to feed myself and my siblings. Why did you take away our only hope? God, you had no right! You plunged me and my siblings into a life of grief, sorrow and more suffering. It was totally unfair. If it had not been for one of my mother’s distant relatives who asked us to come and stay with her, we would not have been able to cope. Thankfully, she was wealthy and generous and insisted I go to the university.

Yes, again I think I owe you thanks at this point because I saw that it was you who made a way for me to have a university degree. I was at a loss on how it would be possible but you came through for me and my siblings by touching the heart of Aunt Rose who sponsored my university degree and that of my younger sister. My brothers, James and John, were sponsored to finish their secondary education. I can’t say I am not grateful for that.

The greatest regret I have is meeting Oxford after my NYSC. God, you knew all along that he was a bad person yet you didn’t stop me from having a relationship with you. After my one year mandatory service to the nation, I got a job at a bank and started trying to fix myself. Oxford was a colleague at work who showed me unreserved attention. He was always there to cheer me up and advise me on what to do. I never knew he was a snake in a green grass. You knew his character God, yet you never warned me. I know Stephen and Karen met me on different occasions to warn me not to befriend him. I thought they said that out of jealousy. Alright, I realize that you could have been using them to save me, but how was I to know they meant well for me.

Oxford promised to get married to me and we started dating. He told me he had a business he wanted to fund and led me to take a huge loan in my name to support him. Aside that, he also stole money from the bank and somehow found a way of framing me up for the theft. After he made away with the money, I was arrested and accused of conniving with him to steal from the bank.

He was nowhere to be found. All the little assets I had managed to acquire were confiscated and my reputation was tainted. If not for the intervention of Aunt Rose who came to bail me, I would still be in jail. The case has been taken to court and I am to appear there soon. I have no money to repay the theft, I have lost my job and assets, my image has been tainted and the worse news is that I just found out I am pregnant for that good-for-nothing Oxford.

Tell me now God why I should not end my life with this knife in my hands? Is there hope for me to come out of this court case? Even if I do, how do stand the shame I have put myself into?

(silence)

(silence)

Before I bleed Lord, can I say a prayer?

Before I bleed Lord, can you intervene in the crisis I have found myself?

Before I bleed Lord, I ask that You step into my life and move away this mountain like you did when I was eleven, fifteen, seventeen and all the times you stepped in my situation when I felt that there was no hope anymore.

I have tossed my knife away. There are tears in my eyes now. I know it will be difficult but I leave all my burdens at your feet. I can’t take away my life because it is not mine to take. I lay it before you. You once bled for me, let that blood now speak.



The end.

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