Mother gave a rueful smile. She shook her head dejectedly. “Nobody has been here to see us and I don’t think we will see anybody.”
“Ah! Why? Why haven’t his people come?” Aunty asked. This was the final one that would shock her to the marrow.
“The boy ran away to Lagos. And the uncle he was living with too has moved out of the house and disappeared,” mother told her sister.
“Yeeh! Rosemary, what is this? What have you gotten yourself into? You that everyone calls a good girl with a bright future, why did you do this to your parents?” She turned to mother. “Sister, dress up and let her take us to the house where she was raped, somebody must know where the boy and his uncle are.”
It was my turn to speak now. “Aunty, the boy has gone back to Lagos, same with his uncle!” The woman nearly fainted. My story is too hard to believe!
Aunty Florence was shocked. She was speechless. Her jaw dropped. She didn’t know what to make of what she’d just heard.
I don’t understand what you’re saying,” she finally found her voice. “You mean you can’t find the boy who got you pregnant? Is that what you’re saying?”
I nodded. “Yes….yes, ma,” I ansdwered.
”And you can’t find the man he was living with as well?”
Again, I nodded, looking away from her piercing gaze.
She shook her head repeatedly, the anger and disbelief on her face very obvious. “What is going on here, sister?” she turned to my mother. “Are you just going to sit down and do nothing while some idiot comes from nowhere and destroys the life of your daughter?”
“But what can I do, Florence?,” mother returned, struggling to have her emotions under control. “She only just told us about what happened to her. She did not tell anybody anything when she was raped. It was in the process of trying to abort the pregnancy that we got to…..”
“What?” Aunty Florence interjected, disbelief written all over her face. “Who wanted to do abortion, Rosemary? Who told you to go and do abortion?”
“I was scared, Aunty, I didn’t know what to do…”
“But at the very least, you should’ve told your mother about it, even if you couldn’t tell anyone else,” she said to me.
“Florence, what am I going to do o? See the shame Rosemary has brought upon this family,” mother started crying again.
“What about her father, what is he saying about all this?” she asked.
“He insists she should abort the pregnancy otherwise she should leave his house!”
“My God!” she’d exclaimed. “ So, what do you plan to do now?”
“To be honest with you, Florence, I don’t know. I am so, so confused right now, and her father is adamant she must leave the house, that he cannot bear to watch her bring forth a bastard, the chi9ld of a rapist, under his roof!”
Aunty Florence shook her head. “You can’t blame him, sister, this will be very hard for any father to take, more so a child that had such a promising future. So, now what exactly are your plans now, is there any arrangement in place for her to abort it?”
“Abort it? No, that’s not in my plans at all. I cannot use my own hand to abort my first grandchild,” she’d thrown back.
“So, how are you going to go about it?” Aunty Florence asked.
Mother was silent. Then, moments after, she turned to her sister: “Florence, can you please do me a favour?”
“What kind of favour?”
“Can you take Rosemary with you to Lagos?” my mother said to her.
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