Story - PASTOR'S SECOND WIFE (Part 6)
I was pregnant for Deji, my senior pastor! Affliction has
risen the second time. He impregnated my best friend five times, here am I
again, pregnant for him. A pregnancy I cannot be proud of. A pregnancy of shame
and reproach. Would I start the journey of abortion too like Stella? How did I
get myself into this mess? Who will I confide in? My friend whom I could talk
with had wandered into a land of the unknown. This was the worst time of my
life.
What will happen to
my pride? Who will I tell that my pastor who could not impregnate his wife for
over ten years was responsible for my pregnancy? Who will believe me? He has
sent away Stella to only God knows where. Now it is me. I was afraid to tell
Deji I was pregnant because of fear of abortion. I know he will surely ask me
to abort it. What will I do now? I won't run away like Stella, I will face the
consequences of my foolishness. For months I kept the pregnancy away from him.
I didn't let him know about it. I will inform the church elders when I am five
months gone. The evidence of the pregnancy would have been obvious then. But
Deji was smarter, he discovered my pregnancy and began to interrogate me. When
it was clear I could no longer hide the pregnancy from him, I told him. I was
expecting him to ask me what we will do next but I was disappointed. He began
to rejoice, he danced around the house for close to thirty minutes.
What is the meaning
of this? Why is he happy about a shameful pregnancy? Is he going to ask me to
keep it? How will he tell the church council? What will he tell his wife? What
will happen to his pastoral work? All these thoughts ran through my mind.
Deji had it all
planned out. He wants me to keep the pregnancy. This time he doesn't want an
abortion, he wants the baby. He has been childless for more than ten years so I
can relate. Does it mean you will marry me as your second wife or you will make
me your baby mama and dump me? I asked him. Mercy, my people says "obirin
toba bimo fun ni ni aya eni"..... "A woman who gives you a baby is
your wife". He took his phone and dialed his sister's line who lives in
Kabba town in Kogi state and they talked for almost an hour. Deji is from Odokoro Gbedde, a small village close to
Kabba town.
Two days later, I
got an alert of N100, 000 on my phone. It was from Deji. I called him
immediately to know what the money was meant for? Has he changed his mind, does
he now want an abortion? I was curious. "I will be with you today in the
evening to explain", he said. That evening, I waited till 10pm, I didn't
see him and that increased my agitation.
He sent me a text at about 10:40, "sorry I won't be able to come
again tonight, I will see you tomorrow morning. Good night my love"
Who is his love? This is his first time of addressing me as
"my love".
Very early in the
morning the following day, Deji drove in and looking excited. "Arrange
your things, you are living for Kabba tomorrow", he said. Initially I thought it was a joke, but he was damn
serious. He started putting my things together without delay. I have spoken to
my sister in Kabba and they're anxious to receive you. My mum will join her in
Kabba to take care of you and the baby when you put to bed. The money I sent to
your account is for the baby things. It will be better if you can buy them here
in Lagos before leaving and that's why I am this early. I stood there starring
at him like a robot. How will you make all these plans without carrying me
along? You are too selfish Deji. "What do I tell them in my working place
when you know I need to give them three months notice before leaving..."
he broke in "...or you forfeit a month salary right?". I will send
N75,000 into your account by month end to make up for the salary for this
month.
I left for Kabba
the next day, it was a long and stressful journey, considering my condition. I
left without informing anybody in church, not even my choir members. What will
I even tell them? But soon they will start calling me to know my whereabout, so
I decided to change my line. I removed my sim card from my phone and destroyed
it. I got a new sim immediately and called Deji to let him know the new number.
When I arrived Kabba, the reception was wow. I wouldn't have ask for a better
treatment. His sister was so happy seeing me. She speaks a little of Yoruba
mixed with their dialect. Having stayed in Lagos for more than twenty years, I
speak Yoruba like Oni of Ife but I had some problem understanding everything
she says. She could understand everything I say but I have to use discretion to
decode some of the words in Kabba language.
The treatment I got
in Kabba began to wipe away my sorrows and pains. I don't do anything than to
eat, sleep, watch films and browse. Something kept telling me this treatment
will be cut short when I put to bed but I disregarded the thought.
A Story By Ayodele Adeoye
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