A Little Secret

A Little Secret
I sought to share this little secret with you
This secret that wiped away my gloom
But somehow I was unable to let you know
That between us, we have a son;

This little secret is a blessing to me
For it is a living proof that “we” exist
It is the only reminder I have of you
And my hope to go on with each passing day;

I write this little secret
Hoping that one day you will see this
And know that we have a son
Whose name is same as yours.

Your seed,
My hope.

It was Ebere that read this poem. When she started it, we thought is was one of mother’s jokes. But as she read on, the words began to dawn on me. I had a million questions running through my head. By the time she was through, I was sweating profusely.

“Chimaobi, are you okay?” Ebere asked in that concerned tone similar to Mother’s.

I could not respond immediately. Did she know what she had just read?

As if reading my thoughts, she asked, “Do you think you are the son Mother was writing about?”
“She never told us she had another son.”
“I know Father’s name is John. Could his middle name be Chimaobi?”
“Ebere, we have been reading Mother’s poems. It is obvious there was someone she loved who is not Father. She got married off!” I was beginning to sound irritated. “I am the son of that man!”
“She never mentioned a name, Chimaobi. Please calm down.”
“Listen, Ebere, something is definitely not right here. Mother wrote down these things for a reason. I am going to meet Aunty Adaeze to find out what exactly happened!”
She breathed out then shook her head.
“I don’t want what you’re thinking to be true,” she confessed with a voice filled with fear. “I always want to be your sister – same mother and father.”
“With the way things are sounding, I am even scared to pray such a prayer.”

That was a statement summarizing my hopelessness and fear. I walked out of the room went to my room, leaving Ebere to pack up the poems. I locked my room door behind me. As the million thoughts ran through my head and I fought to gain some sanity, I wondered what the implication would be if what I suspected was true. Then I realized that I could be a bastard. The mere thought of the word filled me with terror. I knelt down on my bed and let my tears flow.

***************************************

One week after the wedding, Ugochi and her husband left Nigeria for America where he was based. Ugochi prepared meals for her husband grudgingly. She always looked forward to when he left the house for work. But when night time came, the trouble was too much. The beatings and raping continued for one month every other day. She was always reluctant to have intercourse with him. Her face and body was always battered.

One morning, after a whole night of beating, fighting and raping, she woke up sick. She was throwing up that it almost left her breathless. After John left the house, she called a taxi that took her to a clinic.

The kind doctor she met started by giving her treatment for her bruises. Then after she explained how she was feeling to him, he asked some nurses to run some tests on her.

She was discussing his profession with him when a nurse brought the results. He had a wide grin as he looked at the results. He went back to his notes to where he has asked for her last menstrual period.

“Congratulations, Ugochi,” he pronounced her name in a funny way. “You are three months pregnant.”

She did not return his smile immediately. While he talked about the plans for ante-natals, she had to do some calculations in her head.

Three months pregnant? And I am one-month old in marriage? That means only one thing. The father of this child is Chimaobi.

Then she smiled.

“Doctor, please could you do me a favour?”
“What is it, Ugochi?”
“Please can you ask my husband not to come near me during my pregnancy? He is so brutal on me I fear I may lose the child.”
“I will have a word with your husband, Ugochi. This issue is more serious than you think.”

The news of her pregnancy began a period of hope in Ugochi’s life being married to a man she did not love.