Episode 4–Final Episode
Hot tears pooled in my eyes and rolled
copiously down my cheeks in rivulets, blurring
my vision. Alone, I was lost in grief and
disbelief. Sobs welled up from deep within my
bosom, almost choking, as I tried vainly to
hold back the gasps of sorrow that
intermittently escaped my throat. Suddenly, I
felt a hand on my shoulder. I jerked around,
quickly wiping the tears off my face. It was
Osita. I hadn’t heard the door open, nor did I
hear any steps approaching. The alarm on his
face, many questions streaming from his eyes,
was unbearable.
“Oma! What’s wrong? Are you alright? Why
are you crying?” He asked, gripping me in an
embrace, running his eyes quizzically all over
me, the concern and alarm in his face
increasing with each question.
Unable to bottle it anymore, I burst afresh
into another round of body-wracking sobs as I
clung to him. His broad chest reassured me a
little. I always felt safe in his arms. But today
was not like other days. The anguish was
unbearable, the sorrow seemed to burst
through every pore and seam of my body.
Thoughts raced through my mind with
indescribable speed. I could not put a handle
on my mind.
“I should be happy because God gave me a
good husband”, I thought. “I should be happy
that I am with child, Osita’s child”.
“What did the doctor say?” Osita asked,
interrupting my thoughts. I shuddered
violently, thinking of the sorrow that would
becloud his handsome face at the heart-
breaking news I was so afraid of telling him.
“Nne, what’s wrong? What did the doctor
say?”, He asked again, his voice quavering
slightly. My heart sank further into my
stomach. I could no longer look at his face.
“I’m dying”, I blurted out.
“What!? What exactly do you mean by that!?”
He asked. I looked up. The fear and
trepidation written all over his face was
unnerving.
“I have a hole in my heart,” I replied, strangely
calmer. I was nonplussed at the strange
calmness of my voice. I realized that I had
accepted the certainty of my death.
“I have a very slim and practically nonexistent
chance of surviving childbirth. My condition
will deteriorate as this pregnancy progresses.”
I went on, unburdening myself, feeling
strangely lighter with each shocking
revelation. His face was ashen with shock, his
mouth agape with fear. My heart was ripped
to shreds at the dread engulfing him.
“You will eventually choose who to save.” I
said.
“But you can not save me. My heart would
collapse eventually. We cannot afford a heart
transplant.” I sighed. I looked up straight into
his grief-stricken eyes, the horror of what I
had said sinking in and draining the color from
his face.
“Save our child!” I told him with finality.
“I’m saving you both! God won’t let anything
happen to you or our baby!” He vehemently
said through clenched teeth.
———————————————————————-
Weeks after that fateful day, things went on
normally, though the dread of the eventuality
was mounting. Our smiles were forced, and our
laughter was mirthless.
All hell broke loose in the seventh month. I
and Osita had driven into our house and I
stepped out of the car gingerly. Suddenly my
head swam and I sank to the ground in a
dead swoon. He lifted me, gently laid me in
the backseat of the car, and sped off to the
hospital.
“Osita! She’s in a very critical condition! She
has to undergo surgery immediately! We
must evacuate the baby!” Doctor Ben yelled.
He took a glance at Osita’s face, my ashen
colorless figure on the gurney, and yelled for
the nurses. The nurses and other medical
personnel scurried to and fro, prepping the
theater for surgery.
“We will need your signature on these forms.
You have to sign quickly before we commence
surgery. You will indemnify us of any damages
or loss in the event your wife or baby or even
both do not make it.” He shoved some
documents into Osita’s trembling hands.
“Doctor! Start the surgery! Do your best to
save my wife, please! Both of them! I will sign
whatever you need me to sign!” Osita, with an
edge in his voice now, shoved the papers
away. Still unconscious, I was quickly wheeled
into the theater.
“Bro Osita! I hope all is well! How is your wife?
Why the long face?” Pastor Obinna asked.
Osita had quickly rushed to summon our
Church pastor.
“She is in the hospital and she is in critical
condition! She suddenly collapsed at home! I
rushed her to the hospital!” He replied.
“What!? The devil is a liar! No weapon
designed against you, your wife, or your unborn
baby shall be effective! Let us pray together.”
Pastor Obinna said.
“Osita. While we prayed I received a revelation
about your wife’s family.” Pastor Ben said,
after some minutes of prayer.
“There’s something diabolically wrong with the
foundation of your wife’s family. We might
have to visit her family house in the village for
more prayers and cleansing.”
“No problem Pastor. Whenever you are ready.”
Osita responded.
“It is well with you Osita. Go with God as you
go back to the hospital. It is well.”
———————————————————————-
“How is my wife, doctor?” Osita asked. The
apprehension had ebbed from his voice.
“You are the father of a beautiful daughter. We
managed to stabilize her after the surgery.
She’s in the ICU right now. But your daughter
is fine” Doctor Ben, thumping Osita on the
back, said.
“Wow. Thank God. But Doctor, how about my
wife? How is she?” Osita asked.
“Hmmm. She’s still unconscious. The
pregnancy took a terrible toll on her
cardiopulmonary systems. We had to set up
an oxygen tent and a breathing apparatus for
her.” Doctor Ben said.
“What’s the solution, sir? Isn’t there something
you can do? Is she going to be on the
breathing apparatus forever? What can be
done? Doc, I need my wife alive please!” Osita
reeled off the questions, with the edge
creeping back into his voice.
“The only solution could be a heart transplant.
A compatible heart must be obtained. But
sadly, there’s none anywhere.” He calmly
replied to Osita.
“We will leave everything in the hand of God.
Only God can intervene in this matter now. But
we will keep stabilizing her with the breathing
apparatus. I’m confident she will regain
consciousness very soon.”
Osita never gave up hope that I would regain
consciousness and recover. He took Pastor
Obinna to my family house in the village. After
a series of prayers, with Mama and Osita, he
discovered a small shrine hidden in one of the
small rooms in the house. Pastor Obi prayed
and eventually destroyed the idols and other
relics in the shrine. Three weeks after the birth
of our daughter, I regained consciousness. I
was still very weak and had to be placed
under bed rest for observation after I was
transferred from ICU. We named our daughter
Joy. But my heart was getting weaker.
One morning I asked to see my baby and she
was brought to me. I cuddled her, talked, and
smiled with her.
“Osita, Joy will always be a source of joy and
pride for you,” I said weakly to Osita. I blessed
her and my husband before slipping back into
unconsciousness. I was rushed back into the
ICU. Later, the nurses confirmed to Osita that I
had lapsed back into a coma.
“The probability of her coming out of this
coma is nonexistent, sir.” The nurse told Osita.
Osita, tears rolling down his cheeks cradled
Joy in his arms. He made no effort at
stemming the tide of tears flooding his eyes.
He leaned over and kissed my forehead. He
never left my side till five days later, my heart
eventually gave out and I breathed my last.
Mama was inconsolable when Osita broke the
news to her. Pastor Obi presided over the
funeral and used the opportunity to preach
Christ to the Umuada. The Umuada eventually
reconciled with Mama and lifted her
ostracism. Asanga gradually become a
Christian community and idol worship became
extinct…..
~Magicfinger
@yourpenship