Confronting the Secrets of the Past

Confronting The Secrets of the Past

I saw Anna again after 15 years. I saw her but she wasn’t the little infant whose image has secretly been on my mind for eons. She wasn’t the 2-day old baby I left to die at the refuse dump. Anna was representing her school in the quarterly spelling bee competition and so far, she’s been scaling each phase without burning out her memory. She kept spelling till she got to the nationals where I happened to be one of the judges. I’ve been hearing a lot about this nerd who has been setting the whole central East on fire with her brains and I wasn’t surprised when I learned she would be at the competition. Her school is head-bent on milking all the awards through her. She’s their best student. “Anna Patrick for Greenfield High School,” The chief judge called her and proceeded to call others who made it to the nationals. She walked up to the stage and took her seat. She is my exact replica and I hid part of my face with my wig trying my best to comport myself. I met her two days ago when they arrived, she was in the company of a woman and a man, supposedly her foster parents and also the school proprietress. I met them at the entrance to the secretariat where every student would have to register. She had the mark on her face, on her neck, and her right hand. I had a baby when I was 15. I wasn’t ready and so was my boyfriend. It was best I got rid of it but I couldn’t for fear of losing my life in the process so I ran away from home. I had the baby, a little healthy baby in a cold dirty infirmary. She was so small and beautiful and I forgot my fears for once as I looked at her. My baby had those birthmarks, tiny starish marks close to her eyes, her neck, and on her right hand. I know I couldn’t take care of her so I opted for the easy way out. I rolled her in folds of wrappers and dumped her in her sleep at the refuse dump close to the area where I lived and I turned back and fled. Anna wrote down her name and I stared at her in shock, the room suddenly became so small for me and stuffy too. I couldn’t breathe and sweat broke out on my tiny frame. My colleague asked her for other information which she provided in that shrill voice the same as mine. She has my eyes and lips too. Anyone who looked at us closely would see the resemblance, I nearly fainted as she talked. I was just holding on to my sanity by a thread. She left with her parents and I walked back to my room complaining of a headache. My mind was cast back to that day when I dropped my motherly cloak and abandoned a child I brought into his world. Now fate has played a fast one on me by showing me how wicked I was and a treasure that I’ve lost to another family. I’ve not even been able to conceive in my marriage after 5 years already. I cried myself to sleep filled with guilt and sorrow. She was at the last two words that would crown her champion, she and another girl from the west were the only two remaining after defeating the other thirty-four contestants from other states. By missing a letter, the other girl fell out and it was remaining just Anna. My own Anna. I looked at the last word for her to spell. “Eccendentesiast” The chief judge said something else instead. “Spell Motherhood.” Anna looked at him with awe as her jaw dropped from high expectations. No one was expecting such a simple word to spell. I could see the sly look on the face of the proprietress and the triumphant look on the face of her parents, scratch that, her foster parents. I flinched in lethal dread. This shouldn’t be happening now. I was filled with sorrow as she asked for a dictionary definition. It’s such a simple word, why would she want a definition? Abiding by the rule, the chief judge said the definition. I was sitting there trying hard not to make my tears spill for it reminded me of how much I’ve failed. She brought the microphone close to her mouth and started. “I was told that I had a mother who gave birth to me but decided to throw me away for reasons best known to her — ” Anna wasn’t supposed to be doing this but I saw that the chief judge was quiet and didn’t try to stop her. I guess everyone wants to know about this brilliant girl and who she was. “I’m not angry at her action, I’m just sad that she hated me that much to want to end my life. I have a mother today, who picked me up from that dump and it’s to her I dedicate this.” Anna continued. She walked down the stage to where her parents sat, her mum was already in tears as she came closer. There My Anna spelled the word ‘Motherhood’. I wiped off my tears quickly as it ran down my cheeks. No one would ever see it and I managed to speak into the microphone. “Correct.” I watched the crowd grow wild in ecstasy as they clapped for the new national champion. Her parents hugged her tight crying. I slipped away into the restroom and sat on the cold tiled floor. I let go of reasoning as I sat close to the toilet bowl crying in heart-shattering pain. I couldn’t believe what I’d done to myself. I was too weak to even go back to the hall. How would I tell the story? She will hate me even more, that I walked away from her only … Read more

A Young Mother’s Heartbreaking Journey to Truth

A Young Mother's Heartbreaking Journey to Truth

Falling in love with a soldier makes you a fool, or so they say. As a young mother, I learned this truth the hard way. The day I said yes to Ikem, I knew I had just said yes to life on the battlefield, and the life that followed only confirmed it. Everything felt different from that moment forward. It was as if I was living on borrowed time, living someone else’s life and walking in their shoes always. It was foolish of me to have said yes because that gave Ikem freedom and a place to cool off from the effects of the war. He was not from our town and was just there for a while. Soon he was gone again; he said something about the war brewing in the North and that the soldiers posted to our town had to go and stop it. It suited him: fighting and being at war just in time after planting his child inside me. I knew my mother would curse me if she found out I got pregnant by a soldier, so I hid it well, wondering what could have been and what was not at the moment. Days spanned into weeks and weeks into months; mother found out after I was three months gone and cursed me. I felt the heat of her anger but not more than I felt the heat of Ikem’s love when I remembered our time together; on those nights when he and I were alone in his room at the soldiers’ quarters. It was love, it just had to be, but it felt different now, having to bear the results and shame of a pregnancy with a man unknown to my parents and even to my community. All those memories were what made me cry, not the fact that mother cursed me and threatened to drive me out of her house once I delivered my child. Shame drove me insane as I counted the days and hated every part of my body, especially the area carrying the one who would soon call me a mother. I was due nine months later, and when I heard nothing from Ikem, I endured the long walk to the Post Office; clerks there could easily write one letter for a shilling and post it for five shillings. I still had the money Ikem had given me, which made me feel special, but right now it felt like he had paid me off, particularly after making love to me. “Write me a letter,” I managed to say to the male attendant in the post office. It was when he asked for the postal address that I discovered I didn’t even know where Ikem was. I was a foolish teenager and a confused one at that. The tears welled in my eyes as the attendant waited for my response. “To August,” I said and walked away shamefully under the full glare of the elderly cleaner woman. She would say I was stupid, but in truth, I was desperate. What was I going to say? Tell them I was pregnant by a man I knew nothing about his whereabouts, that I was stupid enough to get pregnant at sixteen? I just didn’t want to have Ikem’s child and not have him by my side. I wanted him to know of my predicament and just see how he would come home to me. What I didn’t know was that halfway around the world, Ikem had been buried along with other fallen heroes on the battlefield. If I had sent that letter to the right address, it would have gotten to him, but it would have met his death. READ ALSO: Embracing Love After Life’s Hardest Trials

Resilience and Healing

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I’m the mistake of my father, The naivety of my mother, The exuberance of teen age that yielded fruit; A seed planted in a soil not ready to hold a root. I need healing, I need to dive in resilience   I’m not the mistake of my father, The willingness of my mother, From a matrimonial bed, I am the fruit; A seed that sprouted from good soil to hold its root. I need healing, I need to dive in resilience   I’m the victim of abandonment; at birth, they left, Tales like Cain and Abel, my world melted. Death was a thief; my father died, my father became a wanderer, Two worlds in the same scene; in its shadow, I became a sojourner. I need healing, I need to dive in resilience.   Starting from the constant reprimand of my father’s mistakes, A bond from the connection of ruthlessness breaks. I’m depressed from his demise without goodbye, Watching the glitter of the sparse stars, hoping he comes by. I need healing, I need to dive in resilience   I’m searching for healing, Resilient in my quest to be saved. Hold me closer, my soul in quest of peace. Daddy, Mummy, when will it seize.