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“I felt…so bad…about dying without…without
your forgiveness. But now you are here… I
am forgiven. I will die a happy woman.”
***
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Sir
Aaron’s voice breeched through the
awkward silence in the living room.
Although I’d already made known my
decision, every member of his family hoped
I’d change my mind.
It hurt me to disappoint them, but I had to
return home. My stepmother needed me.
“That woman can suffer for all I care,”
Sharon said. “It’s either her wickedness has
finally caught up with her, or she’s faking
it.”
“She’s sick,” I said. “Why would anyone
fake a thing like this?”
“To get what they want,” she said.
Although that seemed possible, my
stepmother would never do a thing like this.
Lie about her own health? Unthinkable.
“I have decided, sir,” I said. “I must be by
her side during this difficult time. You must
think of me as ungrateful now. After
everything you’ve done for me—”
“We don’t,” Mrs. Aaron said. “We just want
to make sure you’re sure about this. This is
what you want? Really?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Very well then,” Sir Aaron said. “Go get
your things ready. I’ll drop you off.”
With no attempt to hide her retort, Sharon
stormed off. Vicky followed right after.
“They fear for you,” Mrs. Aaron said. “They
fear you’re making a huge mistake and you
just don’t see it. Although I feel the same
way, I cannot stop you from leaving. It is
your choice. I just hope you aren’t walking
into a trap. May the good Lord be with you.
Go well.”
“Thank you, ma.” I headed for the room and
found Sharon arranging my belongings in my
bag. Perched on the bed, Vicky hugged a
pillow.
“You amaze me,” Sharon said without
looking up to acknowledge my presence.
“How can you still think of that woman after
everything?”
“She is still family,” I said.
“Family my foot,” she said. “I don’t know
what kind of heart you have, but this act of
yours is something I’d never do. If I were in
your shoes I’d leave her to die in her evil.”
Done arranging my bag, she presented it to
me. “As much as I don’t agree with this, I
can’t stop you.”
Tossing her pillow to the bed, Vicky sprang
to her feet and crossed the room to meet
me. She threw her tiny arms around me in a
heart-wrenching embrace. “Don’t go.
Please.”
“Vicky—” I said.
Sobbing, she tightened her arms around me.
“Tell me you won’t go, please.”
“Vicky, my mum is very sick,” I explained.
“Wouldn’t you do the same if it were your
mum?”
“If it were my mum, I would,” Sharon said.
“But it’s not your mum. It’s your evil
stepmother.”
“Why are stepmothers so evil?” Vicky
asked, pulling away from the embrace.
Sharon made an ugly face. “Because they
are hideous creatures. They’re ogres.”
“Eeeew,” Vicky said. “Like Shrek?”
“Yup,” Sharon said.
Vicky’s face contorted as though she’d
smelled a decomposing rat. She cupped a
palm over her crinkled nose. “Eeeew. She’s
so disgusting.”
Sharon made a face and pinched her nose.
“Yeah. Double eeew.”
“Will you come back, Victoria?” Vicky
asked. “Ogres are bad. They crush bones to
make bread. Fi Fii Fo Fum. I smell the
blood of a Nigerian girl. Be her alive or be
her dead, I’ll crush her bones to make my
bread!”
“I’ll come visit,” I said. “I promise.”
“No, will you come live with us again?” she
asked. “You’re only going to visit the sick
witch, right? You’ll return right after. You
shouldn’t eat anything she gives you. Not
food. Not water. Remember what happened
with Snow White.”
“Are you ready?” Sir Aaron asked from
behind us.
“Yes sir,” I said.
“Well then, let’s go.”
“Wait,” Sharon said. “I should come along
so I’d know the house. I’d love to visit
sometime.”
“Me too!” Vicky said. “Perhaps there are
other people to save from the ogre-witch!”
Sir Aaron grimaced. “Ogre witch? Sharon,
what have you been teaching her?”
“Nothing, dad,” Sharon said. “I’ll go wait
outside.” Humming a tune, she made her
exit.
***
Moments later, all four of us stood in my
stepmother’s room. Paler than she’d ever
been, she lay asleep in bed. Her hair,
hidden behind a hairnet, and her face,
devoid of makeup, told me the intensity of
her deteriorating health. On a normal day,
she would never wear a hairnet during the
day. She would also never fail to apply
layers of makeup on her face.
“She’s asleep,” I said.
“She’s been like this since I returned from
school,” Cynthia said.
“She doesn’t look good,” Sir Aaron said.
“She should be in a hospital.”
“Our family doctor comes to check on her,”
Cynthia explained. “He administered some
medication. He said as long as she doesn’t
think too much, doesn’t overwork herself,
and is well rested, she will be fine.”
In that case, she would be fine soon. With
my presence, she wouldn’t have to think so
much about the child custody request and
the child abuse sentence that possibly
followed. With my presence she wouldn’t
overwork herself. I’d resume responsibilities
as the one who saw to every chore. She
would be well rested. She would be just
fine. I would care for her like I would my
own mother.
“Victoria—?” Excitement flashed in my
stepmother’s half-open eyes. Watching her
struggle to breathe cut through me like a
sword.
“Have you really come to see me, my
daughter?” Her voice had become a shadow
of itself; a raspy death rattle. I didn’t want
this. Where was the energetic woman who
would yell at me without even pausing for a
breath?
“I am here.” Without invitation, I sat beside
her. She smiled at me. How would I respond
to her kindness when I’d already
acclimatized myself to the venom she
spewed at me?
“My daughter,” she said, barely audible.
Taking my hands in hers, she went on, “I
am happy you came…to…to see me. Now I
—” A chesty cough fought to break her.
Sobbing, Cynthia rushed to her side.
“Mummy.”
“Go get water,” I heard Sir Aaron whisper to
either of his children.
“Now you are here,” my stepmother said.
“Now I can die in peace.”
Tears welled up in my eyes as I watched
her struggle for her life. I let them stream
down my cheeks like rivulets. “Don’t say
that. You will not die.”
My stepmother made to speak, but she
coughed so hard, tears sprang to her eyes.
“I don’t know…if I will live to see the next
day. And I felt…so bad…about dying
without…your forgiveness. But now you are
here…I am forgiven. I will die a happy
woman.”
Sharon strolled in with a glass of water. She
handed it over to Cynthia and stepped back
to view the scene from a distance. My
stepmother jerked her head sideways as
Cynthia moved the glass toward her. Water
spilled onto the bed.
“Water is not my problem,” she said.
“Mum, please—” I begged.
She turned to look at me. Her gaze
softened and she allowed Cynthia feed her
the water. I’d never seen her this hurt. The
pain in her eyes brought to mind my
mother. Had her last moment been just like
this? Had she looked so much like death
itself that no one could look at her without
shedding a tear?
Holding my stepmother’s hand, I stared into
her eyes. “You will not die, mum. I will not
lose my mother a second time. You will
fight this and win. Please, live for us. What
will we do without you? Look at Cynthia.
She needs you so much. Please, don’t
speak about death, I beg you. Live for us.”
“How can you still think of me as your
mother?” she asked. “After everything I’ve
done to you, how do you still care for me?”
“Because we are family,” I said. “And family
supports each other. Whatever happened is
all in the past now.”
“This is suicide,” Sir Aaron said. “We have
to get you to a hospital. There, you’ll be
better taken care of. I’ll take you.”
My stepmother’s jaw tightened. Her
narrowed eyes widened, and in that
moment, the dying woman disappeared. In
her place lay the woman I’d known all my
life. “No one is taking me to a hospital. Do
you know how many people die in hospitals
every day? If I am to die, then it is my
dying wish that I spend my last moments in
my house, with my family. No less. But if it
is the will of God that I live through this—”
A fit of cough cut her off. She grabbed the
glass of water from Cynthia and emptied it
into her mouth.
Cynthia pressed down on her chest to
soothe her. “Mummy, please. Calm down.”
“Sir Aaron’s right,” I said. “You have to go
to the hospital—”
“Hospital doesn’t guarantee life,” she said.
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“I will not go there.”
“It’s okay if you won’t go,” Cynthia said. “If
she doesn’t want to go, then let’s respect
her decision. The doctor comes to check on
her, so it’s pretty much the same thing.”
“This is suicide!” Sir Aaron said. “And I will
not be a part of it.” His children trailed after
him as he stormed out of the room.
I made to go after them, but my stepmother
gripped my hand. “Stay. Stay here.”
***
Minutes by her side morphed into hours,
and hours into three days of no school.
Cynthia and I almost never left the room.
We stayed by her side, assuring her she’d
be fine. We ensured she took all her
medicine. We watched her sleep, took turns
feeding her, and fell asleep by her side.
Twice daily, Doctor Smart came to check on
her. He assured us she’d be fine. And I
trusted she would.
Stella, Sharon, Amarachi and Flora had
made it a ritual to call me at least twice a
day. With friends like them, I couldn’t wish
for more. It stunned me that Raheem hadn’t
called yet. Why then did he make it seem
like he cared when he didn’t?
These thoughts revolved around my head
and didn’t go away till I’d fallen asleep. For
the first time in close to two weeks, I felt
the comfort of my bed.
Moments later, I awakened to the sight of
my flashing LED notification. Six missed
calls from Amarachi. Four from Stella. Two
from Flora. Thirteen WhatsApp messages
and three text messages. So much for
keeping my phone on silent so I could get
an undisturbed sleep.
A text from Flora read: Raheem says to give
you his number. Misplaced yours. Ring him.
The text ended with Raheem’s mobile
number. I dialed. And in that moment, I
realized I craved to hear his voice. Speaking
to him would not take away my problems,
but it would at least make me feel better.
Or so I hoped.
“Toria?” Raheem’s groggy voice asked.
I cleared my throat. “Hello yourself.”
“It’s been eons,” he said. “I lost your
number.”
I took his words for sorry. “It’s okay.”
“Where are you? Is everything alright? Your
friends won’t tell me what’s wrong. You’ve
been absent for way too long. Your sister as
well. Is everything alright at home?” He
spoke so fast, I didn’t even know how to
construct my response. “Hey?”
“I’m alright,” I said.
“So what’s wrong then?” he asked. “Will you
be in school today?”
“I can’t,” I said. “I have to stay with mum.
She’s terribly sick.”
It took forever for him to respond. “I’m
sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I said.
“She’ll be fine,” he said.
“I know.”
“Which hospital is she?” he asked. “I’m
coming over.”
“She’s at home,” I said. “Raheem, I have to
go.”
“Okay.” After a moment, he added, “Stay
safe. Take care of mum and—”
I ended the call before he could say another
word. “I will,” I muttered. “It’s my duty.”
Adding Raheem’s number to my contacts, I
left for my stepmother’s room. She lay
sound asleep in bed. I sat beside her and
tucked a stray lock of hair underneath her
hair net. “How is she?”
“I don’t know if she’s any better,” Cynthia
said, surreptitiously opening the windows.
Her puffy eyes told me she’d been crying all
night.
“You’ve been crying,” I said.
“No,” she said. An obvious lie. “An insect
got into my eye and I kept scratching is all.”
“Cyn, you don’t have to lie to me,” I said.
“What can I do, Victoria?” Her voice wobbled
and I feared mum would awaken to find her
sobbing. “What can I do? I’m so scared.”
“Mum will be fine, I assure you. Everything
will be alright.”
“I hope so. I just hope so.”
A knock at the gate interrupted our
conversation. I rose to my feet. “I’ll get it.”
“No, let me.”
Before I could protest, she walked out of
the room. I smiled at the new turn of
things. My stepmother’s ill health had
brought our family together. For this, she
had to recover. She could not leave now
that things had finally been sorted out
between us. No, she had to live.
Clad in a navy blue long-sleeve and black
pants, Doctor Smart walked in, brandishing
his briefcase.
“Good morning, doctor,” I said.
“Good morning,” he said. “How is she?”
“Same,” Cynthia said from the threshold.
“She will be fine,” Doctor Smart said.
Movement on the bed announced my
stepmother’s awakening. She grunted into
consciousness.
She smiled at Cynthia and I. To Doctor
Smart, she said, “Doctor.”
“How are you?” he asked.
“I think my health is returning to me,” she
said. “The pain in my chest subsides.”
Hope lit within me. Mum would be fine. I
spent the next few hours brandishing this
hope. Her life-force seeped back into her,
and although it was barely noticeable, I did
notice.
Today, I would ask Cynthia to attend
school. While she went to school for the
both of us, I’d take care of mum for the
both of us. Tomorrow, we’d switch places.
We’d take turns going to school, until mum
was strong enough to stay home by herself.
Mum’s recovery seemed closer than ever.
She’d walked around the house today. She’d
engaged me in conversations, and had even
helped prepare lunch.
Sat in bed, I scribbled the first draft of a
story I planned to write. I’d name it Silver
Lining, and would dedicate it to my Fairy
Godmother. Cynthia didn’t seem
comfortable with me writing a story of my
life, but I had already made up my mind. I
would do this. I would start with a prologue,
briefly showing the world my mother’s last
moment on earth. She would grieve over the
end of her life. She would write two letters,
to the people she loved the most, after
which death would whisk her away, paving
way for chapter one. That would start with
me in dad’s funeral, reminiscing over happy
times with him.
‘The end was here.
And Naomi could feel it. Clutching her
newborn to her chest, she conflicted within
herself. She wanted to believe things would
be fine. It was okay to be weak after
childbirth. But she felt much more than this,
and somehow she knew she would soon
fade into nothingness. Her gaze pierced
through the man beside her. Now he
rejoiced over the birth of a child. Soon he
would mourn over the loss of his wife.’
The door cracked open and I shut my book
on impulse. I wouldn’t be comfortable with
someone reading my book in its crudest
form.
Cynthia stepped into the room. “Vicky, you
have a visitor. It’s a friend from school.”
“Tell her to come in.” Preparing to welcome
my guest, I rose to my feet. Who else would
come see me but Amarachi or Flora? But
then, Flora didn’t know where I lived.
Unless Amarachi had given her directions.
Biting back a smile, Cynthia walked out of
sight. Barely a second later, Farah stared at
me from the doorway. A smile tore my lips
apart as she crossed the room to meet me
with a bear hug.
“It’s been ages!” she said. “I’m sorry about
your mum’s health. We came as soon as we
could.”
We? That only meant Raheem had come
along. “Raheem is here?”
“He’s with your mum,” she said.
“Oh no.” What was he thinking, going to see
her? After a lifetime, we’d finally glued our
family together. I didn’t want her having
new reasons to hate me. She’d feel I’d
invited a guy over. How would she react to
this?
With the speed of light, I made for her
room. I hoped to find her asleep so she
wouldn’t have to see him and have a wrong
impression of me.
Giggling, Farah dashed after me. “You’re in
so much hurry to see him. Aren’t you?”
I stepped into the room to find Cynthia,
Raheem, and my stepmother laughing over
a joke I’d come too late to enjoy.
“You really do have a sense of humor,” my
stepmother said between fits of laughter. It
warmed my heart to see her laugh so whole
heartedly. “What’s your name again?”
“Raheem,” Raheem said.
“Who’s the fine young girl?” she asked,
staring at Farah.
Farah smiled. “I’m Farah. I’m his sister.”
“Victoria, you have such great friends,” my
stepmother said. “Imagine, none of Tonye’s
friends have come to see me, but your
friends keep coming.”
“Not even one of your friends have come to
see you,” Cynthia shot back.
“Well, maybe that’s because I haven’t told
them of my ill health.”
“That makes us both, mum. Maybe I
haven’t told mine either?”
Farah chimed into the conversation.
“Actually, you don’t have to tell your friends
anything. Real friends just have to see you
absent for a day or two, and then they come
over.”
“Exactly!” my stepmother said. After a
moment, she added, “I’m sorry my ill health
has forced your friend away for so long. But
I am on the road to recovery. So she will be
with you tomorrow.”
Farah grinned at me. Raheem, on the other
hand, showed no emotions.
“It’s a blessing your health’s returning to
you,” he said.
“I’ll be good as new in no time,” my
stepmother said. “My daughters are my
reason to live. I wouldn’t leave them for
anything in the world. Raheem, I know
you’re probably looking forward to spending
time with your friend. But I’m keeping you
all to myself. I hope you don’t mind my
selfishness.”
“It’s all good, Mrs. Brown,” he said. “I’m
here to see you afterall. I’m sure my friend
can understand that.”
My stepmother’s gaze settled on me. “What
do you see in Victoria?”
“Pardon?” Raheem asked, taken aback by
the question. Her question had knocked me
off balance too.
“I mean…there must be some positive trait
that makes you want to be her friend,” she
explained.
“She makes me want to be a better person.”
Raheem shot me an abrupt stare. Smiling
sheepishly, I looked away.
“She has that ability,” my stepmother said.
“She’s gifted in stealing hearts. And for this
reason, I pray she doesn’t end up trying to
steal the wrong heart someday. I’d be very
much at ease if I knew your intentions for
my daughter. It’s not every day a guy comes
here to show this much care.”
“And it’s not every day you fall sick,”
Cynthia said.
“My dear, I’m sure you don’t understand
where I’m going with this. But trust me.
Nowadays, it’s rare to see a guy want to be
just friends with a girl. I do not want either
of my children to fall into wrong hands.
Neither you nor your sister. She has gone
through a lot already. It would break me if
anyone breaks her. I swear I’ll break the
bones of anyone who tries to add to her
pain.”
“In that case, Mrs. Brown, you don’t have to
worry,” Farah said. “My brother here is ready
to help you break the bones of anyone who
hurts her. Right, Raheem?”
Raheem nodded. Cat got his tongue? I could
tell he shared my discomfort. Farah, on the
other hand, brimmed with sheer excitement.
“You see,” Farah said. “There’s nothing to
worry about.”
“Keep her safe,” my stepmother said to
Raheem.
“I will,” he said.
“Guys, come on,” I said. “It’s not like I’m
going to a battle field or anything.”
“Sweetheart, I wish you could understand
how I feel right now. But you can’t. And I’ll
try to explain it to you. Now, our family is
finally mended. I want to give you
everything you never had. A childhood.
Love. Safety. Even your first love—”
“Mum!” I said.
“Raheem’s a fine gentleman,” she said. “I
trust he’ll make a good friend. So, I
consent.”
Today, mum had given her consent. But to
what? My friendship with Raheem, or a
relationship with him?
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