Thread by @iamthe_eagle

BROKEN PT2.

As I approached the canal to dispose the baby, A bright light flashed on me.
I was caught red handed.
“Hold it right there.” A male voice thundered with authority.

Brethren, Issa thread.
#feeltheeagle #depression #TuesdayThoughts #TuesdayMotivation

I stood motionless. I thought of running, but the road was too dark.
As he approached me, I noticed he had a locally made pistol and a well sharpened machete.

I closed my eyes to say my last prayers.

“Please, don’t hurt me.” I begged.
He didn’t say a word.

Suddenly, he blew a whistle. More armed men trooped out from different corners.
In a matter of minutes, I was surrounded.

Though I was tired of life, I didn’t want it to end this way.

“Please don’t hurt me.” I begged again.

“We are vigilantes, our duty is to protect. What are you doing here?” Another man: clearly their leader responded.

I kept mute. There was no excuse that could bail me out.

“Oga, I dey shit for bush when I catch am. She wan troway her pikin for canal.” Said the first vigilante.

“You're evil! So you want to kill an innocent child because you couldn’t close your legs. God will punish you today.” The leader asserted.

My reply.

His reaction

“Ashawo! Na so them dey do.” Another man added.

I burst into tears at the hurl of insults.

“Oya, look at the camera.” One of the vigilantes pointed his phone at me.
I was forced to hold the baby by the canal as he videoed.

“Pikin wey people dey find. Na him this one wan troway. Mek una help me see wickedness O!” He narrated as he videoed me.

I tried to cover my face in shame, but a slap on my wrist prevented it.
“If you had covered your legs like this, you won’t be in this mess.” The leader asserted.

“People don dey comment for the video for facebook.” Said one.
“Abeg transfer the video, I go put am for instagram.” Said the other.
I knew I was doomed on hearing that.

The emotional torture was too much to bear.
I had barely recovered from the labour pains. I hadn’t seen the remains of my late dad who died on his way to the hospital. Now this.

I thought women Gossip, that night proved we were learners.
The humiliation was too much to bear.

As the day broke, passers by who set out for their daily hustle trooped in to see me.

There was nothing I didn’t hear that day.

While I endured the psychological trauma, a car parked beside us.
An elderly man and a woman stepped out.

They enquired on what happened, the vigilantes narrated everything to them.
After much persuasion from the couple and a token of N5000, they allowed me to go with them.

I narrated everything to the couple.
They helped trace my relatives in Ibadan.

I hated the village with passion.
I stayed in Ibadan with Grandma till dad was buried 3months later.

That night, I couldn’t sleep.

2 things crossed my mind.
What would you have done?

Dad’s body had barely gone cold on the ground when I took off abandoning the baby with Grandma.

I travelled to Benin to start a new life.
I knew all efforts to trace me were futile. I believed they narrowed their search to Lagos.
I deactivated all my social media handles and disposed my Sim.

My late mum had a relative in Benin.
At mum’s burial, she gave me her address and contact incase dad remarried or couldn’t take care of me. We communicated frequently after mum’s death till I lost her contact years back.

I vividly remembered her address on the piece of paper she gave me 13years ago.
No. 2 osaretin close.
I asked for directions till I found the place. It was a large compound with 4 twin flats.

I saw an Old lady seated outside the compound.
“Good evening Ma, I’m looking for Aunty Bukky.”
“Aunty Bukky. No one bears that name here.”
I took time to describe her physique, her husband’s occupation and her 3 kids before she could match my description.

“Oh! Mrs Aweda.” She exclaimed.
“Yes.” Aweda was her husband’s name.
“Mrs. Aweda don pack commot from here after her husband die. E don reach 3years now”

“Please where can I find her?”
“I no know.”
“Do you have her number?”
“No. but Oga landlord suppose get am”
I waited till the landlord returned late in the evening.
Luckily, he still he had her contact.

I dialed her line severally. It was switched off. My battery was getting low.

I roamed the streets with my hand luggage till late. All I had on me was N1,550 Luckily it was a Friday. Lots of clubs and bars were open.

I stepped into a bar, ordered a bottle of malt and found a nice spot to charge my phone while I still tried her number.

While I pondered on what next to do with my life. A waiter interrupted me.

Ma, The man at the corner has paid for your drink. He said I should ask what you’d like to eat?
I looked at his direction. A Young man seated with a group of friends waved at me.

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I weighed the opportunity that confronted me with the risks involved in accepting an offer from a total stranger. After much consideration I declined the offer.
I could hear my conscience bite me as I rejected it. At this point I was extremely hungry.

The man walked towards me.
He loooked like a man in his late 20s or Early 30s

“Beautiful lady. Don’t be scared. Everybody in this bar knows me. I am Shola, and you’re?”

I thought of a name to tell him.
“Osas.” I lied.

“Ah! Osas, why did you reject my kind gesture?”
“I don’t accept freebies from strangers.”
“Ah, so you’re not one of those girls. ”

“What girls?”
“He pointed at the back of the bar. I saw some girls (clearly hookers) getting set for the night.”
“God forbid!” I asserted.
“Then, why are you seated here alone?”
“I just want to boost my battery.”

“Osas, Immediately you walked in. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” He said as he sat beside me.

“I don’t understand sir.” I shifted
“Call me Shola. See Eh, I really like you.”
“But you don’t know me.” I shrugged.

“Yes, but we can start from somewhere.”

We had a long conversation. Shola was hilarious. It was the first time I laughed in months.

His friends joined my table. It was fun as drinks and foods were served.

My heart felt light. The happy Sade was back. I danced away my sorrows on the dance floor.

As it got late, his friends bid him farewell and left.

I began to feel groggy. My limbs were weak.
“Where will you spend the night?” He asked.
I played deaf.
“I know you will turn down my offer if I tell you to pass the night with me.” He pressed on

Put yourself in my condition. what will you do?

I kept mute trying to consider my options knowing fully well I didn’t have a place to pass the night.
I turned down the offer initially. After much persuations from Shola, I obliged.

“Promise me you wont do anything funny.” I asserted
“I’m a gentleman. I cross my heart.” He said

2AM

We drove to his house which was 45minutes from the bar.
I didn’t know the exact location since it was my first time in Benin.

I could hear my conscience ask, “Sade, what are you doing?”

“Ive suffered enough. What’s the worst that could happen?” I shrugged.

Different thoughts crossed my mind. I shoved it.
“Bad energy stay far away.” I grinned.

His house was a decent mini flat which oozed all forms of class.
At the room, He let me shower and have a nap in peace.

Like a gentleman he chose to sleep on the couch.
I marvelled at him.

I felt safe and slept like a baby.

The Next morning I woke up to see Shola staring at me.

“Hello beautiful, I couldn’t help but admire you as you slept.”
“Awww!” I covered my eyes shyly.

“Breakfast is ready.” he said Handing a plate of friend plantain and omelette.

I had never felt loved in months. I pinched my self severally to confirm if I was actually dreaming.
This was too good to be true.

“Breakfast in bed only happens in movies.” I thought.

As I grabbed the fork to cut a piece of plantain he quickly shoved me.
“Haba aunty, with your smelling mouth. Go and brush before you contaminate the food.”

We burst into laughter.
Shola was hilarious.

We spent the whole day indoors having fun, playing video games and cooking.
That evening Shola and I had a heart to heart conversation.

He told me he was an orphan who hustled to put himself through school till he became a civil engineer.
I was impressed.

“So Osas, tell me about your background.” He asked.

“Well, I’m also an Orphan. My dad was buried 2days ago. I couldn’t cope with the village life so I ran to Benin in search of my aunt when you found me at the bar.”

I was torn between telling him about the baby or not.

What would you have done?

I avoided telling him about the baby. I was scared his kind gesture may fade if I do.

He hugged me to console me.
“I’m here for you.”
“Thank you” I said.

“Just when I gave up on love, I found you.” He said holding my hands.
“But Shola, you don’t know me well.”
“I may not know you well, but my spirit is happy with you.”

I suddenly began to catch feelings.

As weeks passed we gave up searching for my aunt.
It didn’t take long before Shola and I bonded.

I could feel the weight of depression fade away.
Truly, love conquers depression.

I was back in school, courtesy of Shola.
We eventually took our relationship to the next level. We did a court wedding
In less than 3 months, I was pregnant.
I gave birth to a girl. We named her Bola.

For 15years, we lived as one happy family until this fateful day.
I was in the kitchen preparing dinner with Bola when I heard a knock on the door.
“Honey, Please check who’s knocking” I beckoned on Shola who was watching football at the parlour.

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“Baby, you have a visitor.”
I quickly stepped out to see who the guest could be.

Behold.
Somebody say behold.

Just wait for it.

I saw a replica of me in her teens holding a large frame of my picture.

I was rooted to the spot.

The resemblance was too striking to ignore.
My jaw dropped.

I was shocked.

As our eyes met, she looked at the picture and looked back at me.

“Who are you?” I asked.

She kept mute.
Tears streamed down her eyes.

“What’s going on here?” Shola asked.

“Mummy Why?” She said faintly.

My legs were weak.
I fainted.

****End of Part2***
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