My lazy father, desperate to find a way out of his debt, agreed almost immediately. He didn't care about my feelings, my happiness, or even what his decision would do to my sister. My mother and her mate pleaded with him, begging him not to sell me off, but he turned a deaf ear to their cries.
I confronted him myself. I told him I would never marry Mazi Obiora. I told him exactly why. He was a wife-beater, a man who had failed to father a son, yet instead of looking inward, he blamed the women he married for his misfortune. I told my father he was simply looking for another innocent woman to turn into his punching bag.
"You already made the mistake of giving Chidera to him," I told him. "Don't make the same mistake again by leading me to the same slaughterhouse."
He looked at me without a trace of remorse.
"Can you pay the debt?"
I was silent.
Of course, I couldn't. The debt was enormous.
"Then that is the only way out," he said.
As though that wasn't cruel enough, he added, "You girls are useless to me. This is the only way you can amount to something for this family, and now you want to throw it away?"
Those words broke something inside me.
Three days before the marriage, I overheard my mother and her mate talking about a wealthy woman named Ego. They said she owned one of the largest farmlands in Nekede and that she had a heart of gold. They said she employed people who were willing to work, paid them well, and helped the poor whenever she could.
That night, I made my decision.
The next morning, while everyone was still asleep, I packed a few belongings and slipped out of the compound without saying goodbye to anyone. I didn't know where I was going. I didn't know what would happen to me on the road.
I only knew one thing.
I had to get away.
Somehow, after days of walking, I found myself in Umudibia. Someone directed me toward Ego's farm, and when I arrived, I knew I had finally found the woman I had heard about.
Oluchukwu's voice trembled as she finished her story.
Slowly, she lowered herself to her knees, clasping her hands together as though she were praying.
"Nda, please," she pleaded, tears gathering in her eyes. "I want to work for you. I am ready to do anything, as long as I am paid for it. I will save every cowry until I have enough to redeem my family from that debt."
"Get up, Oluchukwu. You don't have to kneel before me."
Ego stretched out her hands and helped the young woman to her feet.
She took a deep breath.
"Believe me, I understand what you are going through. I had a father who was very much like yours. He never saw my worth simply because I was a woman."
Ego paused, looking briefly toward the vast farmland surrounding them.
"Today, I have achieved what many men can only dream of. And I made sure my father didn't receive a single cowry from my success."
Oluchukwu stared at her.
"You are employed."
The girl's eyes widened.
"Just like that?"
"Just like that."
Ego smiled.
"I own this place, my dear."
Oluchukwu's face lit up.
Ego started walking back toward the compound, and the young woman quickly followed.
"I must say, though, I admire your courage. Most girls would have accepted the marriage and endured the beating, and when everything eventually fell apart, they would blame the gods. You saw the trap before you entered it, and you had the courage to run."
"Nda, thank you. May the gods continue to favor you."
"Isee! Isee! Isee!"
Ego smiled.
"Now come. Let us get you cleaned up and settled in."
She called for some of the women in her household, and within minutes, Oluchukwu was being taken care of.
For the first time in days, the young woman felt safe.
And for the first time in years, Ego felt as though the gods had given her another opportunity to do something meaningful with the wealth they had placed in her hands.
*
Three Days Later
Ego woke before sunrise feeling strangely unwell.
At first, she dismissed it.
She had been working hard, managing her farms, supervising workers and dealing with the endless demands that came with her newfound wealth. Perhaps she was simply exhausted.
But the nausea returned.
Then came the headaches.
She found herself urinating far more frequently than usual. Foods she had never cared about suddenly became irresistible, while some of her favourite meals made her stomach turn.
Yet none of those things disturbed her as much as the changes happening to her body.
Her breasts had become swollen and unusually heavy. Her areolas had darkened noticeably, and even the slightest pressure caused discomfort.
Worst of all, she was constantly tired.
Ego was not a woman accustomed to weakness.
She had survived the death of her husband, accusations of witchcraft, imprisonment in the evil forest, a mysterious encounter with the old woman, a supernatural journey through darkness, a fire that destroyed her home and an attempted assault by the man she once trusted.
Yet now, something as ordinary as walking across her compound sometimes left her exhausted.
She decided she needed answers.
Before the sun had climbed very high into the sky, she sent for Agadinwanyi, the village healer.
The old woman arrived in the early hours of the morning wearing a black wrapper decorated with red-painted cowries and pieces of broken mirrors. In her right hand was a staff wrapped in white cloth.
The moment she entered Ego's hut, she began dancing softly to a song that seemed audible only to her. Her feet moved rhythmically across the earthen floor as she hummed beneath her breath.
She eventually greeted Ego, who returned the greeting warmly.
Without wasting time, Agadinwanyi sat on a mat, stretched out her legs and turned her attention toward Ego.
"What troubles you, my daughter?"
Ego told her everything.
The nausea.
The headaches.
The constant urination.
The strange cravings.
The swollen breasts.
The darkening areolas.
The exhaustion.
Agadinwanyi listened without interrupting.
When Ego finally finished, the old woman slowly lifted her head.
Then she smiled.
Not an ordinary smile.
She smiled from ear to ear, shaking her head as though she had just heard the best news in the world.
Ego frowned.
"Agadinwanyi, what is wrong with me?"
The healer's smile widened.
"Why are you smiling?"
"I have good news."
"How can all these things tormenting my life possibly be good news?"
"You are blessed, Ego. The gods of your fathers have truly remembered you."
Ego stared at her.
"Agadi, why don't we just climb the ube tree instead of shaking its branches?"
Agadinwanyi laughed softly.
"You are with child, my daughter."
The words struck Ego like a thunderbolt.
"What?"
She instinctively placed a hand against her stomach.
"I am with child?"
Her heart began pounding.
She slowly beat her chest with her fist, unable to reconcile what she had just heard with everything she knew about her own life.
Pregnant?
It couldn't be.
It was impossible.
Then she remembered Oluchukwu.
The young woman had told her only days earlier that there was nothing wrong with her, that she was pregnant.
Ego had laughed it off.
How could she possibly be pregnant?
She had not been with a man since Nnanna died.
For five years, she had remained celibate.
Her eyes slowly widened.
She looked down at her stomach again.
If Agadinwanyi was telling the truth, then there was only one question that mattered.
Who was the father of the child?