My father sent my cousin out of the house on a sunny day.
I was eight years old then but I knew that whatever my cousin had done, it was definitely something so bad.
The only clue I had was her constant sickness and the way her used-to-be flat stomach was becoming round and big day by day plus the unrealistic hunger that was always making her take beyond her normal portions.
But I didn't pay attention to those signs. I just wasn't interested since Mama told me it was only a change in the body when I asked her. She said it was puberty, a period the body screams at you to give it space and proper diet to grow. And since the day Mama gave me that answer, I threw everything off my mind.
But everything became clear when Papa came home one day unexpectedly. He worked outside the city and only come home once in three months. Seeing Papa at home when it was not time for him to come home proved that something was wrong.
Everything came to a head when Papa threw out my cousin with her meager load threatening to kill her if she should come back. The threats landed on me too with his eyes popping out that anytime I try to make the same mistake my cousin made, he would kill me and scatter my body to every nation in the world.
The threats sank. They sank to the very bottom of my heart, staying and germinating there with full force. I tried to make sure I didn't do the same thing my cousin did.
I tried to make Papa happy by letting my movement clear to him, to let him know I had nothing to hide but unfortunately, I couldn't keep the promise to the end for I fell in love with Matthew, a guy in my 100l class and we made love.
It was just once. Just once. JUST ONCE AND I MISSED MY PERIOD.
I told Matthew about it and he said I should give him time to think about it. What was there to think about? We made love and I got pregnant, what else was there to think about?
I hid myself in school. I told Mama that I was busy in school but the truth was that I had questions.
Where would I go if Papa should send me out? How would I face him? What would I tell him? What would I tell mama? What would I tell my younger sister? What would happen to me? What would happen to my education? Would Matthew bring up a good option? Would he dump me? Was this to be the end of our tiny relationship?
I couldn't find answers to these questions and so, I did what I thought was best. I took the easy way. I aborted. No one knew apart from Matthew who supported me in the decision. He stayed with me for the seven days that I almost bled to death.
I saw death that time but I was ready to embrace it if it should come for me. It was the only way to keep my shame after all.
Two months later, my tiny relationship with Matthew continued. I went home and I could see the satisfaction on Papa's face when he fixed his eyes on my belly and found it flat. He was satisfied. He was happy.
If only he knew.
On Sunday, my pastor decided to talk "all about me." I nearly shouted at him to stop talking. I nearly ran out of the church. All of a sudden, I became mad. Mad at everything. Mad at everyone. Mad at myself.
"Don't hide your sins. Don't hide in shame and ruins. The devil uses tactics to actually get people in his traps. Fine, you fell. you made a mistake. You had a child out of wedlock or let's say, you aborted. You are neck deep in sexual vices and your walk with God right now is filled with stones and bricks.
You don't need to be mad at yourself. You don't need it. Infact, it's not what God wants. This is an altar call. If you want to give your life to Jesus or you want to rededicate your....."
I zoomed out. Go to the altar or stay back? What would I tell Papa when he ask me when we get back home as to why I stepped out to give my life to Jesus?
Before I could weigh my options, I was already out of my seat but before I could take a step further, I slumped.
Everything that happened next was blur but when I woke up, Papa screamed in my face.
"YOU'RE PREGNANT?"
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