by Mariam Izuagbe
I stared at the pregnancy strip for over thirty minutes trying to eliminate the upper pink line.
“I am pregnant”, I kept saying to myself. And finally my eyes started to water. I was carrying Abu’s four to six week old child in me. After letting the hot tears flow for three minutes, I picked up my phone and dialled Abu’s number.
In the middle of the fourth ring, he picked up, “Kris,” he yawned.
“I’m pregnant,” I said immediately.
“What? Send a picture of the test result.”
“Oh gosh you bastard. I used the strip and how the f*ck would I kid around about a pregnancy after the stunt you pulled? You arr fucking impossible.”
“Oh no. Fuck me.”, he swore.
“Don’t fucking swear. You did this to me now undo it.”
“Relax baby, please please relax.”
“Relax?” I cut into a sour laugh, “Relax right?”
“I’ll fix this. I promise.”
“Ok, I’m relaxed. At least you’re not the one with the baby. I need to be relaxed.”
“Let me call you right back please,” he said and hung up.
I fell into my bed with the pee-stained stick still in my left hand and my cellphone in the other.
We drove back from the pharmacy into his father compound which has three building in it. His apartment was in cream coloured two storey building with ‘God be with us’ crested in what looked like gold plates.
I walked in immediately Abu unlocked the door, straight to his bedroom downstairs.
“Please lets do this and get it over with.”
I went into the bathroom, pulled my leather spandex pants down with my black maternity panties. I came out with below nothing my waist.
“You know there are procedures more like precautions before inserting the drugs.”
“Ok, like what?”, I asked spreading my legs open.
“You have to be sloppy wet to get the drugs deep down,” he said looking away from my thighs.
“Ok, make me wet please. I just want this over with immediately,” I said, gesturing that he come closer.
He came closer, laid his lips on mine. After sucking on my lower lip for two seconds, he said, “I’m sorry for all this, I wish we could have this love child.”
I choose to ignore that selfish statement and let my vaginal juice pour.
Abu wasn’t worth not going to med school for I have a future… a fucking future with or without Abu in it… I heard my inner she rage.
“Fifi, I am pregnant.”
“Oh no, Kris. Damn. What’s all this? What’s Abu saying? Have you guys talked?” she asked obviously worried.
“I’m just confused right now… I took drugs and all but…. I just came home from the diagnostic centre and the baby is untouched,” I explained trying not to cry. Biting my lips in between lines.
“Oh my God!” she exhaled, “My baby, don’t you think God is trying to say something here.”
“I dont understand you,” I said biting my lips, trying to comprehend her last sentence.
“God wants you to keep this child. I can feel it in me…”
“Aunty Fifi, my name is not Mary and I’m not giving birth to Jesus. Why would you even suggest that? God won’t want my life in jeopardy. Aunty Fifi please don’t say that!”
I burst into tears but trying to talk in a subdued tone
“Calm down Kris, as your aunt I’m supposed to help you at all times. I know what I am telling you,” she said raising her voice but not out of anger.
“Please, please my baby… think about it,” she continued. I was already too deep in my tears to reply.
“Calm down baby, its fine. You will be fine. Just sleep on. I love you, okay?”
I whispered my okay but I knew she didn’t hear it. I ended the call anyway. I lay down on my bed, arms and legs apart.
What have I brought upon myself? All this shit, all this nonsense because I chose to date Abu. Wow. Wonderful. Abu… you must be so proud. Well done.
My inner she raged over and over.
I have med school in less than two months and I’m pregnant and sick.
*To be continued*
Brilliant!
Pls i need to know the end of the story.thanks