Thread by @iamthe_eagle

BROKEN

Lita! Lita! Please wake up!” I screamed holding her lifeless body.
“Mum, you’ve killed her. I guess you’re happy now.” Bola said wryly as tears streamed down her eyes.

Brethren Issa thread.
#depression #TuesdayThoughts
#feeltheeagle

“Take this.” She said handing me a note.
It read.
“Mum, All efforts to make you happy have proved futile. I guess my corpse will bring you joy.
Signed: A broken child.”
My reaction.

A cold chill ran down my spine. Flashes of my past actions came in quick succession.

How did it get here?

Let me take you down memory lane.

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

My name is Sade. An only child to Mr Owolabi. A decent trader who lost his wife when I was 10.
He refused to re-marry out of love for my Mum.

I had just turned 23. In excitement I woke up thanking God for another year.
I had barely gotten off the bed when dad handed me a letter.
“Sade, this is for you.”
It was an admission letter from the prestigious University of Ghana. I was elated.

I had tried jamb effortlessly for 5 straight years. Dad understood my frustration. he surprised me with an admission letter.
I knew the fees were above dad’s means. I promised to make him proud of his sacrifice.

Phillip, my fiancé was excited. He had asked for my hand in marriage earlier, but dad wasn’t willing to let me go till I gained admission.
I later found out Philip had a hand in working out my admission. He also paid a huge part of my school fees.

Weeks later. I set for a journey that changed my life forever.
To save cost, I decided to take a night bus from Lagos to Accra.
We had barely crossed into Cotonou when the bus broke down. It had a flat tyre punctured by a strange metal.

As the driver tried to fix another tyre he was gunned down. Before we could jump down we were surrounded. The robbers took their time
Raping and robbing. It was a terrible experience.

We were stranded for hours till we found help.

We arrived Ghana.
I kept it a secret for fear of tarnishing my relationship with Phillip.

I believed I could stand strong and overcome the psychological trauma that followed after the incident had happened.
If I could overcome mum’s death at a tender age, I believed nothing more could shock me.

I had gotten carried away with the activities in school when I realised I hadn’t seen my period in 2 months.
I strolled to a pharmacy to get a pregnancy test strip.
I tried all the 3 strips when I got home.
Boom! I was pregnant.

Suddenly my phone rang.
It was my dad.
“Sade! Get set, we’ve fixed your introduction for Xmas break.”
I was torn between joy and sadness as I stood speechless.

“Sade! Sade! Are you there?” Dad asked.
“Oh! Wow! I… I am excited.” I stuttered.
I quickly hung the phone.

I had barely dropped the phone to think about my predicament when my phone rang again. It was dad.

“Sade, I guess the network hung up. I want you to speak with Philip.”
“Hey baby. I’ve finalised everything with Dad. We’ll do our intro on Xmas break and we’ll wed on May.” Phillip said in excitement.
“Ok” I sighed.
“Guess what?”

“What”
“I tendered a transfer. I’ll be working with the Uber branch in Ghana. My boss has assured me of it.”
There was a sudden silence. We could virtually hear our heartbeats.
“Baby are you there?
“Yes.”
“you don’t sound excited. What’s the matter?” He asked.

“Oh, nothing dear. I… I’m excited. Thank God you’re coming. I- I was wondering how we will cope with the distance when married.” I stuttered.
“Yes dear. I planned everything from the onset.”
“Ok. I have to go. I have lectures to attend.” I lied.

I sunk in the deep hollows of confusion.
Put yourself in my condition. What will you do?

The Next day at lectures, I couldn’t concentrate.
I pondered on what to do.

Quickly, I thought of ways to terminate the pregnancy. I wasn’t ready to allow any bastard spoil a life well planned for me.
I took every concoction drinkable to terminate the pregnancy just to avoid going through the D&C process.

From time to time, I discharged blood fluids that convinced me the pregnancy was gone.

The Xmas break was here. I journeyed down to Lagos. The introduction was a success. We fixed our wedding for May.

As the semester progressed, I noticed changes in the growth of my stomach.
I was convinced the concoction had terminated the pregnancy. The worse that could happen was a dead foetus.

Casually, I entered a clinic to run a scan.
Lo and Behold. The bastard was in there alive and healthy. No sign of deformity.

The shocking thing was, the baby never kicked for once.
“You slimy bastard. You think you’re smart? I’ll get rid of you!” I cursed.

I headed to another clinic. I was ready to undergo D&C. The doctor examined me.
“Madam, the Chances of removing the foetus is 50/50. You may risk your life in the process.”
“What do I do?” I asked.

“You’ll have to give birth to the child and kill it yourself.” The doctor shrugged savagely.
At that point I didn’t know whether to channel my frustration on him with a resounding slap or just leave.

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I had barely reached home when I got a call from Phillip.
“Baby, I’ll be in Accra tomorrow morning.”
My heart stopped beating. I could feel my legs fail me.
“You said?”
“I’ll be in Accra tomorrow morning.” He repeated.
“How…. why?” I asked.

“ Good news! My transfer will be active from May after the wedding. So I want to scout for a good apartment for us.”
“It is too early. This is just February. Besides you should have let me do the scouting.” I said.
“Aren’t you excited, I’m coming? ”
“I am. But… “
“But what?”

“Nothing dear… I’ll be expecting you.” I stuttered as I couldn’t argue any further.
As the call dropped. I slumped on the bed.
“Oh God! What do I do?” I wailed.
I cried all night.
I regretted not telling Philip from the onset. It was too late.

The next morning.
I looked at my slightly protruded tummy.
“It isn’t too big, I could conceal it with a waist trimmer and a big gown.” I said to myself.
I rushed to the market. Prepared breakfast and arranged my little apartment awaiting Philips arrival.

My phone rang again.
“Baby, I just landed at Accra. My In-law will be picking me from the Airport.” Said Philip.
“Your in-law?”
“Yeah, one of my distant cousins got married to a Ghanaian. I’ll be seeing him for the first time in 7years after his wedding.”

I quickly wore the waist trimmer and a gown I got from the market.
Every second I waited, my heart trumped harder. I struggled to breathe.
I looked through the window anticipating his arrival as I grew impatient.

My phone rang again.
“We are at the entrance of your hostel, can you step outside so we can easily locate you?”
I described what I was putting on as I stepped outside.

I looked to my left and saw Philip step out of a car while the driver tried to park properly.
He rushed out to hug me. I gave him a side hug so he couldn’t feel it.

As he tried to hug me properly again.
Behold.

Everybody say behold.

Just wait for it!

His in-law stepped out of the car.
He looked familiar.

As he approached. I realised It was the doctor I met the previous day.
I felt the ground should open.

“Baby Meet Dr. Mensah, My brother in-law. Mensah meet Sade my fiancée. We are getting married in May.”
As I stretched my hands to greet him. He looked at Philip and I like he had seen a ghost.

I could understand the shock in his eyes. I bowed my head in shame as he kept my hand hanging.
Philip was puzzled.
“Dr. Is there a problem?”

His reply.

If you were in the doctor’s position what will you do?

There was an awkward silence.
The tension was rising.
“Lord if you can save me from this. You can save me from anything.” I prayed silently in my heart as I looked to the heavens.

“Chale…. I don’t know what to say.” Dr. Mensah sighed

“I don’t understand. Do you know her? Or what?” Philip asked.

“Philip, are you responsible for the pregnancy she’s carrying?” Dr. Mensah asked.

Philip looked straight at my tummy.

“Pregnant? That’s a lie. Baby, Is it true?”

At this point what will you do?

“Philip, please I can explain.” I begged as I knelt.
“Explain what? Are you pregnant? Please tell me it’s a lie.” He asserted.
“I… I was raped.”
“Cut that bullshit story Sade. And you kept it to yourself till now.”

“She even tried to terminate it at my clinic.” Dr mensah said adding fuel to the blazing inferno.

At this point if I had the power to consult thunder. It would have struck both Dr. Mensah and his entire generation.
In fact, every body bearing Mensah.

“So you’re not just a liar, but a muderer! This is too much to bear. Call your dad, tell him it’s over.” Philip said as he walked towards Dr. Mensah’s car.

“Philip, please!” I begged

His final remark as the car zoomed off.

At this time there was already a small crowd at the gate of my hostel watching the entire drama.

If eyes could kill. I would have died seven times that day.
I bowed my head in shame as I walked into the hostel.

My dad called severally, I was too guilty to pick up.
I sensed Philip may have informed him.
While I sat in frustration I received a text message from dad.

It read...

“Sade, I’m disappointed in you. You’ve blown your future cos you can’t close your legs. Ungrateful child.
Just forget about your school. Take the next bus to Nigeria where I can watch you before you drown our family name in more shame.”

In tears I flung my phone.

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I couldn’t blame my dad for concluding without hearing from me.
I blamed myself for bottling my problems from the beginning.

I fell into a deep state of depression.
There was no one to talk to.

The rumour of me trying to abort a baby that never belonged to my fiancé spread like wild fire.
From the corner of my window, I could hear the neighbours gossip.

“Wonders shall never end. And she’ll be claiming holier than thou. Madam abortion.”

There was no manner of name I wasn’t called from little gossips that filtered in.

I found it difficult to step out. The shame was too much to bear.
I began to have suicidal thoughts.
I wasn’t ready to face my dad in shame. #depression

That night, I couldn’t take it anymore.
I dropped a farewell status on WhatsApp.
“I’m sorry guys. I have to end it.”
I brought out a rope. #DepressionIsReal

As I stepped on the stool to attach the rope to the hook of the ceiling fan, The baby kicked for the first time.

A surge of bitterness welled up in me.
I placed my hands on my tummy and cursed the child with every form of disgust in my heart.

I finally strapped the rope to the hook. As I fixed the loop on my neck.

Suddenly.
I heard a knock on the door.
I didn’t care to check. I was done with life. #DepressionIsReal

“Sade! Sade!”
I could hear my name from a familiar voice.
I kept mute.

I wasn’t ready to give life a second chance.
"Someone cannot die in peace again?" I hissed.

As the knocks proceeded to loud thuds, I quickly fastened the loop to my neck and kicked the stool.

While I struggled to gasp for breath, a ray of light shone at my direction. I closed my eyes waiting for the lord to accept a wretched soul. Only for my suspended legs to be held by a group of people who broke in to save me.

As I struggled to regain consciousness, I realised the light had come from my door which was broken beyond recognition.
I was rushed to a clinic. I groaned in pains and agony of getting a second chance at a frustrating life.

“Sade, what were you thinking? Why would you want to kill an innocent child? Thank God I quickly rushed to your room after I saw your update.” The hostel mistress said.

I struggled to talk in my defence of my action but the pains on my neck were unbearable.
I spent the week at the clinic under close supervision of the hostel mistress and my dad who came the following day.
He was too disappointed in me to say a word.

We got back to Nigeria.

I narrated everything to him. He believed me and apologised for his actions.
It was the first time I saw tears stream down his eyes since my mum’s death.

He fostered every love, care and attention possible to cure my depression.
Gradually, I began to see a ray of hope in life.
He placed a close watch on me till the day of my delivery.

My water broke at the early hours of the morning.
I was rushed to the hospital.
There were lots of complications as I struggled to push the baby.
I lost lots of blood that day.
unluckily, dad’s blood group wasn’t a perfect match. He had exhausted everything on the hospital bill.

He quickly rushed to the market to get funds from the traders union.
I gave birth to a girl. I marvelled at the mystery baby who survived all forms of concoctions unharmed.
I waited for hours at the hospital for dad's return but he didn’t show up.
As hours passed I began to panic

I waited till the next day.
At the hospital they broke the news of my dad’s death in a ghastly motor accident enroute to the hospital with the funds he got from the trader’s union.

My world felt empty.
The only ray of hope was gone.
I broke down in tears till it flowed no more.

I was discharged from the hospital that Night.
11pm
As I boarded a taxi home.
I looked at the bastard child in disgust as she sulked in her sleep.

“from the day your seed was forcefully sown in me, all you’ve brought is pain and agony. Today, I will follow Dr. Mensah’s advise.”
I said to myself.
As we approached a Canal which was 3 streets from my house. A thought crossed my mind.

“Driver stop here.”
“But madam, we haven’t reached your agreed destination.” said the Taxify driver.
“It’s none of your business.” I asserted.

He ended the trip and I paid him off.

I waited till his car had gone a considerable distance.
The area was dead quiet.
I looked around to ensure there was no one watching me.
As I approached the canal, The bastard started crying. I tried to comfort her, but she didn’t stop.

In disgust, I dropped my bag and was set to throw her in the canal when I was interrupted by a bright torchlight pointing at my direction. I was caught red handed.
“Hold it right there!” A male voice thundered with authority.

*** END OF PART 1***
PT2 will be uploaded same time next week.

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