THE NIGHT I TURNED 18

@Olutope Olonade

Episode 1

“Abike please……this will be the last time, do this for me …..for us”…..

David kept pleading, definitely to my deaf ears. I had made up my mind that I was not going to allow him cajole me. Not anymore, not after five painful abortions. If nature had been merciful enough to me, I wouldn’t want to stretch it beyond the mercy lane. I might not get lucky again!

The last abortion had been gruesomely painful. I didn’t use the standard clinic I used for the first four abortions because the Matron got tied of conducting a repeated abortions on the same patient in less than twelve months.

“May God help you if you do not abort all the babies in your womb in one year!” She said with an alarm tone.

I felt a shiver of cold run down my spine as she exclaimed in disbelief for the gut I had to present myself for the fourth abortion. She later warned me never to attempt another abortion after that, or I might be heading on for a suicide mission. So for the fifth one I decided to swerve into the service of a quack nurse following the advice from my friend, Amaka.

Amaka, was the one who introduced David to me in the first place. Though, I really couldn’t figure out the kind of friendship between the two because they seemed too close for a platonic relationship, but I met them that way. I trusted Amaka, because I thought if there was more to their friendship she wouldn’t have talked me into accepting to date David. What woman would do that? So each time I felt a tingle of jealousy in my heart towards their closeness, I quickly dismissed it.

Amaka, introduced the baby nurse to me after she had given me her candid opinion not to abort the baby this time around. She said I needed to try and make my boyfriend responsible for once on this. She also, reminded me of the matrons warnings and promised to stand by me if the worse comes to worst. I refused her advice not because the pains I got from the previous experience had been pleasing, but I didn’t want to offend David, my love and benefactor. He had done a lot for me by offering me a place to lay my head and given me a compassionate shoulder to lean on. Above all he loved me. If his father who was an ex military officer got to know about the pregnancy, he would be in trouble and his education was at stake. I needed to be considerate and do it just for him. So the abortion was performed right in the room I shared with David.

I didn’t know where the girl got all the clinical instruments she used on me from, but the way and manner in which she went about everything steadily made me concluded that the girl was not new in the act. I closed my eyes tightly with gritted teeth in readiness because I knew that the next feeling was going to be very painful. In a minute I felt a sharp pain and I screamed but my voice couldn’t get far because the girl had stocked my mouth with clothes. Blood was all over the lylon that was spread on the bed. Anyways, seeing blood had become part of me….from the previous abortions. The issue of blood started the night I turned 18 and since then it was as if I was destined to see painful blood spillage around me.

The young nurse was unperturbed by my painful groanings. She just went on and on doing her thing inside me. I gasped for life! I prayed for death! I wished I could scream to the whole neighborhood! After everything, she gave me some injections and cleaned me up. I saw her put the lifeless creature in a polythene bag. She doubled the bag and began to pack the bloody mess into bags. My mind told me instantly that I just murdered another gift nature had provided for me. I felt dejected. I remembered my mum, if she had been able to conceive on and on like me, my parents wouldn’t have reasons to flee from their families. If my mother had the opportunity of being this fertile I wouldn’t have grown up alone child. I felt very bad that day.

The nurse placed me on drip and with a straight face asked Amaka to keep watch over me. I pitied my bosom friend, for bringing her so much troubles in just a short time of knowing each other but she gave me an understanding look and patted me gently on my chest. Before long I fell into a deep sleep.

I thought I was hearing some sort of arguments….but the voices was from far distance but later it became whispers as I opened my eyes to see both David and Amaka at my bedside starring pitifully at me. I hate pitiful sights! Oh God! How could I had made my self a pitiful object like this. Few months ago, I used to wake up every morning to see my parents by my cozy bed with charming smiles and a proud look of how wonderful and pleasant gift I had been for them, but not any longer, the event, the night I turned 18 had changed everything. A once innocent and dearly beloved daughter had turned to a murderer overnight.

It’s disappointing though, but what would I have done? Do I have a choice? Please let me know…

To be continued…..

Beloved, you can follow up on these series by following the author on Facebook @ Living Passion series. You are also free to share but we implore you not to edit out the credit of the author and details. Thanks and stay blessed.

Living Passion series

Written by

Olutope Olonade

THE NIGHT I TURNED 18

@Olutope Olonade

Episode 2

“David it’s not my fault, I warned you that night. I asked you to use protection but you refused. So let’s face the result squarely”…I raised my face to look him straight in the eye.

“I can’t risk it anymore….it’s my life we are putting on the line here”. I said coldly but convincing enough for him to know that I was done with such murderous acts.

I wondered why David had been so unreasonable and unfair. He had subjected me to five severe abortions already and still expecting me to go for another one more round that would make it, thee sixth time! I was beginning to doubt his professed love toward me.

He rose up from his kneeling position and kept staring at me. He wanted to be sure if I was truely not going to change my mind. I couldn’t stand his sad countenance. I walked up to the window which was right behind him. I was gazing at the window blind though I saw nothing because my mind had flown beyond the physical.

I hate denying David of whatever he demanded from me. I hate to see him this way. May be because I so much loved him or may be I should say I was dominated by fear of loosing his favour. David was my weakness. He had become a demi-god and I practically worshipped him. This he knew well and had been using this as an advantage over me.

“But no! Not tonight”. I resolved.

He turned around as he left his statled position and headed towards the door which was right beside the small window where I was standing. He meant to hold my left hand but I slowly moved away from him. After a long wait, he left the room.

I felt like throwing up so I quickly rushed to the toilet and vomited some greenish liquid. I rinsed my mouth while I looked up to face the mirror. I saw pimples all over my face and my cheeks had suddenly swollen. I knew I needed a medical attention but I didn’t know how to get David to support me in this. It was barely six months when I had the last abortion and now I found myself back to square one.

The baby nurse confirmed that morning, that I was thirteen weeks gone. I came out of the toilet and sat down on the chair by David’s reading table. Absentmindedly, I picked one of his books from the shelf and flipped it open. I didn’t actually see any letter or any meaningful words in there; I was just glaring at nothing but it brought the memory of how David had cared for me after the last abortion. He bought more food items and other provisions into the house. He had known that after any abortion like that I would be needing good food and hot drinks, especially, hot tea. So he made sure both drugs and the right food we’re provided for me. He nurtured me like a baby and in less than two weeks I came back to my blossom self.

For those days, David kept comforting me with sweet words and promises never to make me go through such hell of experience again. He bought me gifts and later kept away from me. He didn’t sleep in the room with me but only come to check on me to see how I was faring; he stayed back in the hostel.

On a Wednesday night, precisely three weeks from the last abortion. I had slept early because of the drugs that I was taking. David and Amaka checked me up in the morning, so I wasn’t expecting anyone. I ate early and went to bed.

I felt his hand. I could perceive his perfume. I knew whose hand it was. He had entered the room while I was sleeping with the spare key.

I tried to get up from my sleeping position but he pinned me down. Then I reminded him of our last conclusion not to do this until he writes his final papers so that even if anything happens there wouldn’t be any reason to take more risks. Instead of listening to my plea, he was begging me like a child would beg his mother for a candy. I later pleaded with him to at least use a protection but he also refused claiming he was too deep in the mood to look for one. I did all I could to set myself free from his grip but I was too weak to defend myself. That night, he had his way eventually, and the result of his care free attitude had led to another pregnancy. I would have reported him to Amaka but he begged me not to tell her, so I ordered him to stay away from me.

I saw my flow the following month and the months after so I relaxed and hoped he writes his final exams so that we would be able to know the next thing to do. I didn’t know the deed had been done already…. I only gave up myself for a test because of my frequent weakness and dizziness.

My phone rang and my thought was brought back to the present. Talk of the devil! The caller was David

I heaved a sigh of relief thinking that he had succumb to my persuasion but I was hell wrong. He only called to warn me that if I didn’t cooperate with him to terminate the pregnancy, he would be forced to deny me and that call might be the last I would be hearing from him.

“If you know what is best for you, Abike, you will go and remove that thing in your womb or else you are on your own” he threatened and hung up.

I couldn’t believe my ears. David could issue a threat on me this way after all his promises to stay by me through thick and thin.

I became very much afraid. “What if it wasn’t a threat? What if he actually deny me outrightly? I don’t have anyone to defend me…. He said am on my own…..how are my going to fend for myself in this condition?…..is this not a way of forcing me into submission….who will help me?!”……

Fresh tears were beginning to gather up my eyes and in no time came pouring down my face like an early morning rain, and my mind ran as fast as it could down the memory lane.

To be continued….

Beloved, you can follow up on these series by following the author on Facebook @ Living Passion series. You are also free to share but we implore you not to edit out the credit of the author and details. Thanks and stay blessed.

Living Passion series

Written by

Olutope Olonade

THE NIGHT I TURNED 18

@Olutope Olonade

Episode 3

My name is Abike Adele. I am the only child of my parents. Just as my name implies, I am born to be cared for. I came after long years of searching and waiting. My parents eloped to the North as a result of too much pressure on them from my father’s families.

My father came from a wealthy family, a renowned family as that in the West. My mum on the other hand was from not too well to do family. They met in the higher institution and fell for each other. His father’s pride was wounded. The oldie wouldn’t hear of his Noble heir entangled in love with a daughter of a nobody. But my dad was resolute in his decision to marry my mum irrespective of her humble background. What mattered to him was the love they shared. They got married but the union was unproductive.

This led to another tug of war. My mother definitely, was at the receiving end. Her mother in law did not spare her. She became her worst enemy. The old dear wouldn’t let her be. My grandma tried to make my dad changed his mind about my mother and marry another woman. She believed that my mother was one the girls from the slums who were uncultured and immoral. She said it was possible that my mum had aborted all the babies in her womb and had to pinned her empty self on her naive “Aje butter” son.

She made life a living hell for my mother. When my dad got to the breaking point he had no choice than to do what was best for his love. He took his wife and ran away as far as to the Northern part of the country.

“…..away from the preying eyes and the prickly fingers of my parents”…. My father was telling me the night I turned 18.

Earlier on, the day opened with prayers and best wishes from my lovely parents. We held a small service to appreciate God for giving me the grace to witness another year after which we had a family outing just to celebrate me on my 18th birthday. My parents were not that extravagant inspite of the fact that God had richly blessed them. That day, we took some gift items ranging from food stuffs to provisions and toiletries to the orphanage home and later went to an eatery to enjoy ourselves.

It was supposed to be a delightful experience for me but I kept wondering why my parents had been very discreet about their family background. Ever since I’ve known my parents I had never seen any blood related family with them. We only had some couples of family friends and we’ll wishers around us.

Initially, I never saw any wrong in it or probably not old enough to know or understand the usefulness of other extended families. I did not realize early enough that the only families I ever known were my parents because I was receiving the needful attention abd care I needed; I was near to becoming a spoilt brat so I was contented with my life but, not until I met this girl called Bisi Samuel a new girl,who joined my class when I was in the upper secondary. Her father was just transferred to the North from the West then.

I attended the most expensive private model college one could ever found in that part of the country. The rich especially, politicians and the “who is who” in the society took their children there. It was a school for the “Aje butters”.

Bisi took to me immediately we met. She said my surname echoes the name of a well known family in one of the biggest cosmopolitan cities in the West. In fact her father worked with one of the many companies belonging to the Adeles. I promised to ask my dad if I was from the same Adele family Bisi mentioned, but my father was not in the mood to attend to my inquisitiveness.

I knew my father too well. He couldn’t be forced to do or say things he wouldn’t want to do or say. My mother too was a no go area; she wouldn’t go beyond my father’s lane, but the seed of curiosity had been sown in my spirit already. I needed to know if truely my family name was that big.

It took another three years before my father could opened up on the issue. During those waiting years, I listened to Bisi narration on how eventful and wonderful it had been for her, living with her parents, three older brothers and a younger sister. She told me they were never alone. They used to visit their aunts and uncles. Often time during the holidays, the family, their cousins and other family members used to hang out at their Grand parents’ place to celebrate together; especially, during the festive periods. She claimed to have an extensive and lovely extended family she was fond of.

“Having family is good….it makes one feel a sense of belonging…come and see us when we all are together….wow! It’s always fun filled….am missing them already…. especially,my first cousin who now stays in the Central”…..

There was no doubt that Bisi’s growing up was fun unlike me who grew up alone child.

I needed to know my root either big or small… family is family. My father should just get over the accusations he levied against his people and let’s move on. I wanted to see my grandparents too, my cousins, aunts and uncles. Infact the frequent uproar of religious crises in the North was more endangering that the family pressure they ran away from. If my opinion could be sought for I would have preferred that we return to our family in the West.

“How would I convince my parents that family is good inspite of the few short comings….we only need to be tolerant and also posses a large heart that easily forgive…

“Blood is thicker than water”….

Or what do you think?

To be continued……