By John Chizoba Williams
He promised to marry me if I got pregnant for him. That night I decided to give him my body, soul and spirit. We were in bed together telling each other how much we loved ourselves and, how we could kill to make sure no one or anything came between us.
Williams was a great man whose smiling radiated and glowed like the sun. Whenever he smiled to me, I was always at peace with myself. He was cute and lovely. He loved to caress me and tell me love stories that were made to water my emotions and soil my feelings for good. I never dreamt of any other man beside Williams whose laughter broke the sadness of my soul. I gave him my life since he promised to marry me if I got pregnant.
He told me that the last lady that he had an affair with could not get pregnant for him for eight years that was why his mother had to chase her away. I was ready to do anything for him because I loved him. I was ready to break my vow of not getting pregnant until I got married. I was ready to overlook my parents advice and allow Williams take that which made me a woman. I was ready to let go of everything in my life and I allowed him to baptise my life with his glittering words…. I still remember his words before he took it. He said to me: ” Roses are made for special people and one of the roses made for me is you, and I am here to explore into this rose and make myself a delicious meal.”
We both laughed and I allowed him to go into me. He took the virginity I had been keeping for the right man and I saw his smile after that incident. I watched my blood prowl down from the bed to the ground. My tears hunt for freedom from pains and sorrow but I thrust on to accept the fact that we were meant to be because if we were not, he wouldn’t have taken my pride that night. We hugged each other tightly in the young night and allowed our hearts to tour through the happy night which watched us with eager eyes from a far distance. Our lives were at their peak. Our joy,a butterfly that watered the earth and enslaved bitterness.
Some weeks later, I was pregnant for Williams and happily, I ran from my house to his to inform him of the new development. At the door of their house, I met his mother who was coming out from the house with a bowl in her left hand. She wore a carton-coloured shirt and tied a yellow wrapper which was designed with a catholic pope pictures and there on the back of her clothe was inscribed “Motherhood experience hurt when it has no good start.” She smiled at me when she sighted me. My heart sagged at the sight of her glamourous face; she never liked me for once since her son began dating me. I was surprised to see her smile at me.
“Good morning ma” I greeted.
“Good morning, Ella,” she replied “how are you doing?”
“I am good. Please is Williams in?”
“No, I hope there is no problem.”
” I– I — I-” I stammered in fear
“Williams travelled to USA last week, he has gone to the US Ella.”
My mouth went wide open. Unable to utter a word, I left feeling ashamed of myself, of selling myself to Williams who came like an unblemished lamb and destroyed my future. I left crying for tomorrow; bringing into this world a child that would wake up one day to ask me about his father and I would not have anything to tell him about his father’s whereabouts. Shame crowded my being but I must move on with the baby in me. I saw what being honest as a woman towards a man could cause for a woman. I never knew love could feel like a heart attack. The worst thing I ever feared in my life was loosing myself if I ever lost Williams to the arms of another woman. Abortion was not an option for me, no. It was never what I believed I could go through.
When my parents learned about this, my father was angry with me. He cried aloud to the hearing of the walls in the compound. Mother was also disappointed in me. She was demoted from the seat of a chair lady in the woman association in the church because I was pregnant for an unknown man according to them. Everything came crashing down on me. Fate was against me: the wind spoke of evil about me. With the annoyance and bitterness of the incident, I was chased away from home to go and meet Williams. During those times I was away from home, life became more unkind to me, to the unborn child I harboured in my womb, to the air and the roads I walked on. No one seemed to know if I ever existed or if I had joined my ancestors in the world beyond.
I moved on with courage and confidence that Williams would come home soon to stay by my side. I was certain that the arms of Williams would hold and cover me soon but when would he come to end this madness he created? I went to meet my girl friend who accommodated me for a while but later moved out of her house when she began to act abnormally to rent my own accommodation with some money I had saved while selling sachet water in the streets of Lagos. Few months later, I birthed Obiajulu whose face shone brighter than his father’s. At the sight of this young toddler on my laps, I remembered Williams and his handsome face that attracted me to condemnation.
Now, it’s twelve years and I still sit at the front door waiting for the day Williams would come home to see me and his bouncing boy who looks nothing less than him. He has not called me for twelve years and his mother has refused to give me his number. I have tried getting in touch with him but all to no avail. I still wait for Williams’ home coming like farmers wait anxiously for the new rain to plant their crop seedlings.
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