Geraldine Iheme: Lilian’s Story (30 Days, 30 Voices)

My name is Lilian, and I am fifteen years old. I am from the type of family most of you would call “broken” “confused”, or “complicated”

What defines a family? What defines me? Who am I?

I asked myself these questions as I sat cross-legged on my Oga’s  well laid bed, staring at the family portrait on the wall close to the plasma screen. I took a moment to drink in the beautiful furnished bedroom.

Who am I? Where do I belong? Could I really answer? I wondered sadly. I ran my fingers over the clean polished dressing table and walked round the room inhaling the serenity the room captured. I stopped by the window overlooking the lush green garden. I spotted Nkechi, Chidinma and Chuka playing ‘catcher’. Waves of anger wrapped my body. I was drowning in rage. More questions flooded my head.

Why did mum let this happen to me? Where do I belong? Where do I fit in? I felt a tear trickle down my left cheek and caught it just before it landed on the windowsill. Chuka’s loud laughter irritated my ears. He chased his two sisters shouting, “The wolf is on its way! Looking for a sheep!” The girls scurried around searching for a place to hide. They had no care in the world. They did not have to care about what clothes to wear or what food to eat. I glared at them with bitterness. More tears slid down my cheeks and I let it pour.

You must be wondering why I am filled with so much bitterness, unhappiness and anger.

This is my story.

My name is Lilian, and I am fifteen years old. I am from the type of family most of you would call “broken” “confused”, or “complicated”. My mother had me when she was only seventeen and my father was just eighteen at the time. My grandparents from both sides wanted nothing to do with them. My parents were kicked out and forced to live on their own and fend for themselves.

Father found a job as a mechanic and my mother got a job as a housekeeper at the Chibueke house. My mother and I moved into Mr and Mrs Chibueke’s boys’ quarters while my father shared a one-room apartment with five other mechanics. Mom and I visited dad twice a month.

Problems came when I turned six. On one of me and my mother’s visits to my dad’s apartment, we found another woman in the house making lunch. I thought nothing of it since five other men lived in the house with my dad, I figured the lady came to see one of them— but definitely not my dad! I was wrong!

“What do you want in my house?” My father slurred. He was drunk. He staggered towards my mum and slapped her across the face. “What do you want here?” I was completely shocked. Even at six, I knew something was terribly wrong.

I grabbed my father’s legs and begged him to leave my mother alone. He pushed me away and landed his palm on my back. I remember screaming and running towards the door. “Mummy lets go!” I cried. “Daddy does not want us here any more.” My mother fell to her knees and began to beg my father. “What have I done my love?”

“I have found another wife,” he told my mother sternly, pointing towards the kitchen. The slender awkward looking woman smiled sheepishly at my mum, cat-walked to where my father stood and wrapped her arms around him. My mother burst into tears. I cried with her. “Mummy let us go! Daddy does not want us again.” I ran to my mum pulling the end of her dress. “Go back to your lousy job! I can’t be with a common house girl!” Father shouted. “Get out of my house.”

“Hannah *abeg* just leave,” one of the mechanics told my mum. “He does not want again.”

My mother picked herself up from the floor, grabbed me and walked out of the house. That night, we both cried ourselves to sleep. The next day, mother resumed her daily chores at the Chibueke house like nothing happened. One evening, Mrs. Chibueke pulled my mother aside in the kitchen.”My dear what is wrong?” Mother shrugged. “Nothing is wrong.” “You’ve been very distant and you don’t work as hard as you used to.” “Ma, I am ok,” mother lied.

I was sitting on the kitchen stool. I looked up at Mrs. Chibueke. “Daddy threw us out of his house.” “Lilian! Shut up!” Mother scolded. Mrs. Chibueke said nothing. She pulled my mother close and hugged her tightly. “It’s okay my dear. We are here for you.” Mrs. Chibueke and my mother grew close after that. She increased my mother’s salary and spoiled my mother and I with gifts. She called my mother her sister and me, her daughter. She had no children of her own so she treated me like a daughter.

A year later, Mr and Mrs. Chibueke summoned my mother into the main house for a meeting. I stayed in the boys’ quarters. Hours later, my mother came back into the room we shared. “Lilly,” my mum called me. She put me on her lap. “Do you know I love you?” “Yes mum and I love you too,” I responded. “Mummy wants to help Mrs Chibueke and her husband have children of their own.” My mother said. I was confused. Why did they need my mother to help them? “Why can’t they go to the hospital for help? You are not a doctor.” My mother laughed. “We will be paid plenty of money. This is a special kind of help and it is a secret. You must not tell anyone okay?” I agreed.

It was not long before I fully understood the kind of “help” my mother was talking about. My mother was given a room inside the main house. Mr. Chibueke visited her every night. Nine months later my mother gave birth to a boy. They named him Chuka. They took him away from my mother. When people came to visit, Mr and Mrs. Chibueke would tell them they had the baby in England. After the birth of Chuka my mother was given a large sum of money. I did not know how much but I remember my mother jumping and dancing. “One day I’ll have my own shop.” She told me happily.

A year later she gave birth to a girl for the Chibuekes and the year after that, another girl. Nkechi and Chidinma. After Chidinma was born, Mrs. Chibueke moved us back into the boy’s quarters. “Thank you Hannah, for these children,” Mrs Chibueke said beaming. “God bless you.” She handed mother an envelope. Mother continued working as a help. She helped raise the babies and I assisted her the best way I could. I was a bit relieved she did not have to go through the pain of having another child for the Chibuekes.

But I was upset because we moved back into the quarters while my half sisters and brother had the best rooms in the house and were treated like royalty. I had thought Mrs. Chibueke meant it when she said I was her daughter. Why did she all of a sudden treat mother and I like slaves? Even though we were back in the quarters, Mr. Chibueke visited my mum at night to sleep with her. I did not understand this. “Mummy, why does uncle still come to see you? Does he want another child?” “Madam no longer excites him,” she told me sternly. “He loves me.”

I still did not understand. “Will he marry you?” I asked. “Forget about marriage. We are not trying to have children. You will understand when you are older.” I was confused, but I never questioned her about it again.

When I was thirteen, Mrs. Chibueke found out about my mother and her husband. She was understandably upset and ordered us to leave. My mother begged to stay but Mrs. Chibueke was filled with so much rage. She pushed us out of her compound. We stood helplessly at the gate begging and crying. “We have no place to go. Please ma,” My mother wailed. “We have no money.”

No money? Did I just hear correctly? Mother had not saved. I turned to face her. “I thought you said you will build your own shop?” My mother ignored me, pounding hard on the gate. “What happened to all the money you made? You did not save?” I was so upset. “Where will we go for from here?” “I don’t have time for this Lilian!” She screeched. “You are a grown teenager! Go and make your own money.”

She picked up her bag of clothes and walked away. I watched mother leave me. I dropped to the floor crying hysterically! Praying and hoping Mrs. Chibueke would open the gate for me. Aliyu, the gate man, finally opened the gate. “Madam dey call you for inside.” I jumped up and ran inside the house. I fell to my knees and begged for forgiveness. “Get up, get up,” Mrs. Chibueke ordered. “It’s not you I am mad at. It’s your mother. You can work for me but your mother is not allowed in this compound ever again.” “Yes ma. Thank you ma.”

I am fifteen now. I have not seen my mother since she walked out on me. My half-sisters and half brother do not know about their real mother. No one knows the big family secret. My father showed up once at the Chibueke house asking to see me and my mother. He claimed he was bewitched and that he was ready for us to come home.

Was he really ready? Was he ready to hear what my mother had done for money?  “Lilian,” Mrs. Chibueke’s soft voice from the hallway, crept into my thoughts. “Hurry up with the cleaning so you can head to the market before it gets dark.” “Yes ma.” I picked up the broom and dusting pan and continued my chores.

——————————-

Geraldine Iheme is a Lawyer and an Author. Her first novel is called Disfigured Emotions, which is available in book stores and online on www.debonairbookstore.com and www.walahi.com . Her second novel is ‘Buried In Bleeding Tears’ which will be released in a couple of months. She loves to play the guitar and she has a twin sister, Jacqueline who she adores. She represented Nigeria, in the reality show tagged Big Brother Revolution in 2009, reaching top seven out of twenty-six housemates. You can follow her on Twitter (@acoustic_geri)

——————————–

30 Days 30 Voices series is an opportunity for young Nigerians to share their stories and experiences with other young Nigerians, within our borders and beyond, to inspire and motivate them.

 

Op-ed pieces and contributions are the opinions of the writers only and do not represent the opinions of Y!/YNaija.

Comments (8)

  1. This is what many are going through in Our country. Everyone has a family secret. This is an interesting read. Very good write up.we want to see more interesting reads Good job miss Geraldine I hope to meet with you one day

  2. geraldine from big brother wrote this? she is greatly talented, i must ofcourse get a copy of her books.

  3. extraordinary!

  4. this story is so touching. i cried just reading this. geraldine you are a blessed writer.

  5. facebook.com

Leave a reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

cool good eh love2 cute confused notgood numb disgusting fail