FICTION

I know a woman in her early forties in whose story I star prominently.  As far as I know, she has lived single all her life. She knew love, or something next to it, only once. She fell in love in her early 20s and excused every sense of reasoning and warning when she met this charming young man. The young man was everything she had desired in her man. He had built for her a world she could call hers. She wouldn't allow anyone talk her out of it. It was her world, controlled by her and nothing could take it away from her. She knew it the day she met this young promising man. He didn't say much but said everything; he said nothing in particular, but said everything in a jiffy. It was a moment she could rehearse over and over, and it never bored her.  He was not like the others.

She awaited the day he would say something, that thing that would make her ears tinkle. That thing that will elongate for her seconds unforgotten, better appreciated than hours in daily quest.   That ignition, that will drive her forever and make him bound perpetually to her. He will come requesting and she will feign ignorance of his request and keep him in suspense. She would make him come begging for her. Her mind had told her she is a jewel, not meriting just anybody but this one whose words and deeds can be described as love. She gave him everything. She would not cast restraint because she knew he was hers.

It was by this man that the symptoms she had heard, known and seen of a pregnant lady became hers too, so they didn't disturb her. Whether they are true or not, the man who holds the key to her life will be there for her.  His constant assurance of his love for her always rejuvenates her. It was in her mind that she vividly saw the two of them debating the gender of the baby.
"Wo, obinrin ni o," she heard him in his hysterical Ogbomosho tone.

"Aren't you a girl?" He places his head playfully on her belly.

"Ehen ehen," she says, "I am a girl."

"How did you say he said it?" Not aware that she said 'he' not 'she'.

Trying to be assertive this time. He stood like the dominating presence of a principal over an assembly of students and said, "She said, 'I am a…'" and saw his figure no more.

She couldn't keep the news to herself any longer and decided she must visit him at his station to share this goodnews with him. She had prepared her things for more than a day's visit and possibly the weekend. One thing she didn't forget was the result of the pregnancy test. The news must be substantiated with evidence. The medical evidence will be the imprint of the authenticity of her claim. She seems to re-assure herself that she might not need the result. After the news, they will pop the wine she had bought for the purpose and tease him on how she would look in the early and advance stages of the pregnancy. She will school him on pregnancy symptoms such as white eyeballs, blank eyes, swollen legs, irritating spitting, occasional discomfort like intermittent urinating and uncontrollable appetite for certain foods.  She will then look into his face to see his reaction.

She called at his office to announce her arrival and retired to his apartment after a brisk visit to the community market. Meal was set in much anticipation of the night bliss. They had only supped mid-way when she pushed the plates away from her, as if they will obstruct her vocal cords.

"I visited the hospital," she began. She could notice he was a bit apprehensive. "How much will you need for drugs this time?" he queried. "It is not that," she protested. "Well, it was just the occasional seizure I usually have." That was all she could summon courage to say at the time. Courage had failed her. Her hands suddenly grew cold and felt budding balls of sweat rolling down her arm pits. She managed to clear the plates off the tables and cleaned them up. She rehearsed to herself how she would break the news to him again as she was under the shower. The unceasing torrent of the water washed away her previous disappointment. She reassured herself it wouldn't wait till the next day.

They were ready for bed when he stroked her thighs softly. She responded by turning around to stare into his face. When the stroking seems not to turn her on, he grew impatient and asked her what was bothering her.  "Nothing," she said, and turned her back at him. He jokingly cuts in and said, "Except that you are pregnant?" The suddenness, power, force, weight and more importantly, the reality of these words hit her like a tornado.

"How did you know?" she swiftly asked, still in shock, and a confluence of happiness and utter unbelief.

"Know what?" he queried.

"That I am pregnant." She said gleefully. 

"Se iwo loyun ni? "

He playfully tried reaching for her lips but she declined and sat up almost immediately.

"I am two months pregnant," she said half-heartedly afterwards. 

"Come off this joke," making another attempt at getting her to bed.

"I am not joking." "I called at the hospital some weeks ago..."

"'For your usual check-up now, and you have told me that already when we sat at meal" "So, what's new?"

"What's new is what I have told you," she responded, growing impatient with him.

"And what is it?" he asked, still sounding playful.

"That I am pregnant; two months pregnant!" she yelled. 
 
Exasperated at the twist of events, she reached for her hand-bag, frantically searching through. When she couldn't find what she searched for, she poured out the content on the floor and thankfully found the test result and threw it at him. This she did with renewed energy.

"This cannot be true!"  He snapped at her.

"I am bearing your baby," she assured him.

"Alright, alright, you have my…, my baby." His hands are held up as if they will shake off his head from his neck. 

"What shall we do about it?"

"About what?"

"About this…this pregnancy." "What shall we do about it?" This time he is rather growing increasingly impatient.

"Well, you shall be the father."

"F-a-ther?" He said sheepishly.

"Yes, you're the father of my baby." She retorted.

"But, I am not!"

"You are not what…?" she cuts in.

"Is this a joke or something?" she snapped at him and burst into tears.

The tears were hot. They burnt her chins. They became tepid only at her neck region. They became uncontrollable and accompanied her to bed. The dramatic twist however chased him into the couch for a night longer than they both could have envisaged. 

Sleep deserted her and the pillows were helpful and useless. The clock chimed twelve and her mind still active with the reality of the disappointment. It tucked six before she suddenly realised that it was almost daybreak. The crow of the rooster at 2:46 a.m. meant nothing to her. She was still in a fixation. And since time could not be of help, she avoided it like a plague.

There was no conversation between the two of them that morning. He got so early to work that his colleagues wondered why he came so early on a Friday morning. "He came at 6:20? This is an angst surprise," one of them had gossiped. "A fi angst surprise naa," the other said as they both walked away.

She packed her things wearily and waved down a motor bike. It was at the car park that she realised she had overpaid the motorist. It could have been the same at the car park if the fare had not been ₦50. Back at her abode, she couldn't think of a way through her present predicament. Everything she thought she could do was nauseating her. She looked blank and sat idle for days. On one of such days she sat idle and sank into a deep sleep. She woke up and couldn't deny the sweetness of the sleep. She had had some load cleared off her head. She stood and at the nudging of instinct knew what to do.  She will call at his family house. If he is not listening, someone saner in his family will. As the idea struck her, the name of his mother stuck too. She was going to talk to his mom and she would listen compassionately. There was no room, let alone rooms for rehearsal for this unscheduled visit. It will be spontaneous, simple!

She did speak to his mom but she was silent longer than she could recollect. "My daughter, is this true?" "Is it true that my son is the one responsible for the pregnancy?"  "Mommy, mi o se omode." "Your son is the first man I know." This shocked her and she nodded in surprise. She gave her words of promise and she departed to await apprehensively her response.

It wasn't until another four weeks that she was summoned. It was there she came face to face in reality with the man she has always loved. His charming mien has suddenly vanished. The attributes that endeared him to her has also fled. So he could stamp his feet to the ground, raising dust from the red dust laden rug and said, "That child is not my child." He couldn't be cautioned and his seat was vacant in no time. He didn't need to slam the door. The door aided his swift exit.    
Up until this day, she did not know that he had given her everything, with the exception of his heart. Unfolding events obviously showed that his heart was elsewhere. She has come to know this just too late. A prophet's warning voice couldn't have put her in check. There was none, anyway. If there was, it will signify nothing meaningful to her.
The obvious problem notwithstanding didn't slow down the gestation period of the foetus. The foetus had lived long enough, ripe to be brought forth. So, the day I was to be brought forth there was no anticipating father pacing the floor of the hospital, gripped with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. The doctors were never to be worried by fretting intermittent inquisitions of an anticipating dad, heavily laden by worries for his wife and the baby. After days of labour, the child was brought forth on a beautiful day in August! The child was no other but me....
[To be continued]