TITLE: LEMONADES
WRITTEN BY: OGECHI ALABI
pa-rt 12
I spoke with Fahdi every day. It was the fun time of my day. We video called and talked often. His mother visited on my days off. I wondered why she was pa-rticular about me. She brou-ght food for me and even begged me to stop working but I refused.
Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. I endured the side comments and negative energy. I endured the growth of the baby and the stress on my bo-dy. The pregnancy became obvious and my sweet clients showed me love. I was blessed with cash, baby things, and other items. I had a list of what I nee-ded.
Unlike Emmanuel’s family, Fahdi’s mother brou-ght foodstuff each day she visited. My medical bill was covered by the hospital. Fahdi arranged for a vehicle with a driver to move me around when my pregnancy had gotten very obvious. He took care of me.
I se-nt him a list of items I nee-ded for the baby. He insisted we checked the s-x of the baby. “It doesn’t matter if it is a boy or girl. All that matters is that the baby is healthy. Although I know for a fact, it is a girl”
True to his word, I was pregnant with a girl. Fahdi was very excited when he saw it on the scan. “She would look so much like me, watch and see. But I want her to have some of your traits”
“She will look like me. You look Hausa just in case you don’t know”
“And so?
“It’s your br@in I want her to have. I want her to be intelligent”
“You are equally very intelligent. If she gets a combination of both our br@ins, our p@$$ion and drives for excellence, we have made the best child Nigeria nee-ds” We both laughed.
Emmanuel got his visa and was ready to leave the country for the United States. He had gotten an academic scholarship to cover his tuition. It was God at work as usual. I prepared him for his trip. I gave him some money in dollars and asked him to open an account when he gets there so we could pay for other expenses. Fahdi had arranged where he will reside with a family before he moves to the campus. I wanted to travel with him. I cried my eyes when he left. He held unto his grandmother, my mother and me. We were all he had. My father had met him a couple of times but Emmanuel stopped visiting him for reason best known to him. He didn’t even get along with my brothers who were now living alone and independent.
With Emmanuel gone, I sunk further into depression. I was like a robot; I worked and came home. The triplets were the source of excitement in our home. Their mother left them with us and we se-nt her to boarding school to focus. Grandma was distracted with them as she loved them so much. They all shared a be-d with her.
I was alone in my room talking to the two men in my life; Emmanuel Junior and Fahdi. I enjoyed talking with them. I had become very emotional and sad most of the time. I was also very hor-ny and I didn’t have the father of my child with me to help with the itch. When I was pregnant for Emmanuel, I was never hor-ny or was it the circ-umstances that killed the feeling?
Eventually, Fahdi came back. He surprised me. He knocked at my door close to midnight again and I was shocked to see him that I had to pinch him several times to be sure he was the one. I had to organize food for him that late and then we went to be-d. It was a night to remember. He laughed at how big my belly had grown and he held me in his arms for me to sleep.
Grandmother saw him the next morning. She was excited to see him too. She could see how happy I was. I was radiating the joy and plea-sure I had experienced.
At work, I couldn’t concentrate. I couldn’t wait for it to be over and go to see Fahdi. I didn’t realise how much I had missed him. There was no nee-d to pretend about it. I had expressed it the night before and I was ready to see him after work at his house.
He came to pick me from work. He came into the hospital and he was greeted with a very warm welcome. He gave goodies to everyone. He came to where I was and smiled like he always does.
“Shall we?” he asked.
I went to change out of my uniform and I joined him. Some of the nurses wanted to join us and drop off on my route but he told them we weren’t going their way. I felt good. I felt secure. I was happy he acknowledged me and made me feel wanted and appreciated. He didn’t hold me at work or ki$$ me or call me special names but instead he smiled when he sighted me and he se-nt over what I nee-ded. He waited to take me home or came and picked me up when my shift was over.
Did I tell you he shopped for the baby? I couldn’t believe he focused only on his daughter while he was there. He didn’t show much of his excitement but I felt it. He was happy about the pregnancy and the baby.
His mother wanted us to get married before I had the baby but he refused. He told us he wouldn’t deprive me of the wedding of my dreams. He knew it meant the world to me and so we would do it after the baby was born and I had gotten back into shape. This dashed his mother’s hopes of planning a wedding but I told her to go ahead but she should know it would be at least four months after I have had the baby.
What Fahdi did instead was for us to get married in court. It was a secret wedding between us and two witnesses. He didn’t inform his parents and I didn’t inform mine (I told my mother. She deserved to know and she agreed to keep it a secret). I wore my rings with pride. He wanted his daughter to answer his name legally without the razzmatazz of wedding ceremonies.
Fahdi didn’t propose to me, it flowed naturally. He told me having s-x was no longer sin as we were husband and wife. I agreed with him. My libi-dowas on another level. He liked it and told me he hoped it would continue after I had the baby.
Fahdi made his house habitable for a married couple. It was still quite simple devoid of extravagance and any form of luxury. He told me he lived on his salary and couldn’t afford to live above his means. It was fine by me.
The day I delivered our daughter was one of the happiest days of our lives. My grandmother, my mother and Fahdi’s family (mother, sister, father, aunts, cousins and anyone who could be there) were at the hospital awaiting the arrival of the baby. This was a contrast to the birth of my son. My fellow nurses were shocked at the number of people prese-nt waiting for the arrival of the princess.
Fahdi was in the delivery room with me. He video called Emmanuel and they shared the moment. We all saw the baby together. Emmanuel was so excited. “I’m so happy for you mum. I love you. You have made me a big brother to a beautiful princess. I wish I was there with you. Please se-nd me pictures and videos of her every day; I don’t want to miss out on anything”
While they cleaned me up, Fahdi came out with the baby in the hospital cot to show family. There was so much jubilation. Fahdi mother came prepared. She shared out drinks and snacks with everyone prese-nt. It was indeed a joyous occasion.
Fahdi suggested I remained with my grandmother. He didn’t want her to be lonely if I leave. I felt it. She would be sad. She was in her late seventies and was of sound health. But her strength wasn’t like before but her mind was very sound. I agreed with him. But grandma refused.
“Your mother-in-law has the right to care for you. You have been with me for years, aren’t you eager to move in with your husband? I would prefer to drive to your house and visit than you staying here. I have the triplets to keep me company for now. This is what we prayed for and God has answered”
I moved in with Fahdi’s mother. She took care of me from her home. Fahdi refused anyone pressing my b©dywith hot water. He placed me on a diet that would help me lactate and also produce nutritious milk without adding much weight. His mother wasn’t happy about it but he stood his ground.
We named our princess. She was named by both a Muslim cleric and an Anglican priest. That was what Fahdi wanted and his family had to agree with him. The Anglican priest came in the morning while the Muslim clerics can in the afternoon. We named her Fibikemi Ifedayo Aliyah Obiageri. It was supposed to be a sitting room naming ceremony but it turned out to be a grand celebr@tion.
“My family loves to pa-rty. Allow my mother to organize everything and you will have peace. You can never satisfy them but she knows how to throw pa-rties that will be the talk of the town on a budget. They all run to her when it is their turn” True to his words, his mother was something else.
Six weeks after my delivery, Fahdi was on my case to lose weight and work out. I didn’t have a choice but to do as he said. I was fed mainly spicy pepper soups, pap, salads and fruits in large quantities. When I complained, he told me, “don’t you want to fit into your wedding attire? Do you want to look robust in it? I know you will complain later that is why I am saying it now, take your pepper soup and pap in the morning and eat mainly salads and fruits the rest of the day”
Three months after delivery, I looked amazing. My mother-in-law begged me not to get pregnant again so soon because of the way I glowed. She could see the way Fahdi frequented my room at night and she was worried. But we were se-nsible and very careful. He had insisted I had an IUD inser-ted to prevent pregnancy. I did it at the Federal Health Centre I worked in so those nurses at Emperor hospital wouldn’t be aware.
Marriage talks began again. Fahdi’s mother called both of us and begged us to get married legally and traditionally. We agreed. Fahdi and I discussed it. My main problem was my father. Fahdi said he wasn’t going to see him to ask for my hand in marriage. He had asked the person who deserves to be asked and he had given his permission.
“And who is that?” I asked.
“Emmanuel of course. The only other people are your mother and grandmother. I don’t want to have anything to do with your father”
“I am an Igbo girl. My surname is Igbo. I have to be wed the Igbo way. You have to un-derstand this”
“But you were disowned and se-nt away to your grandparents. They are Yoru-ba. I want to prostrate for your grandmother a million times over than your father”
“I agree. But please, I want to make peace with my father and then get his blessings, after that, whatever you say is final”
“If that is what you want”
My mother informed my dad that I was getting married. He said he wasn’t interested. She told him the boy is from a prominent family and they want to see him.
“Which family?”
“Fabiyi family. They are a very prosperous family in Ijebu. The boy wants to marry Esther immediately. They have done the court wedding and have a child together. Now, they want to pay dowry and have church blessings. They can’t pay dowry without you”
“She has had another child? Why is she so wayward? Doesn’t she have self-control?”
“She is married. This is her marriage certificate. It is because of you she waited until she had the baby before the traditional wedding. The family, they are very rich and they want Esther”
“Your family accepted her so they should marry her out”
“Very good. I just want to call my family members so you will repeat what you have said. Then we can go ahead with our arrangement. After all, you disowned her and called her worthless and wayward. Now, the rejected girl is the one being treated like a queen. They are begging her to marry their son”
“Maybe their son is ugly or has a problem that is why they want him to marry a single mother”
“On the contrary. Fahdi is a medical doctor, very handsome and he can perform as he impregnated your daughter. He is the only son of his billionaire father. They are begging to marry your daughter who is after one. I will inform my brothers to stand in for you”
After a few minutes of being in thought, he said to my mother, “Tell them to come”
“Just like that? You heard billionaire and you are willing to give your daughter away? Will you ever change? Tell your mother, her granddaughter she rejected is bringing home a billionaire’s son. I know she will leave that village and land here. She worships money”
“Mind your tongue woman! If they don’t want to come, then it is good for them”
“They will come”
Fahdi reluctantly went with me to see my father. I had missed his youth. My father looked older. I was happy to be reunited with him. I introduced my husband; he was obviously impressed. I showed him our daughter, she was my husband’s carbon copy.
“Well, your family can come here for introduction but the traditional wedding will hold in Ngwa Abia state”
“I don’t think so, sir. It will be a tedious journey for Esther’s grandmother to travel at this time and she must be there as she took care of Esther when she was rejected. The traditional marriage will hold here in Lagos.”
“Are you to determine where my daughter will be given out in marriage?”
“I have to determine a safe place where I will pay the bride price for my wife. She is legally my wife; all these are formalities. There has been a lot of unrest in the area you have spoken about and I can’t take my family there.”
“Let your family come for introduction first”
The introduction was done at my parents’ house in Lagos. My father invited his family members. I was to spend a night in my father’s house but Fahdi insisted I stayed with him in the hotel and go there in the morning.
The entourage was led by Fahdi stepfather. He told my father he was standing in for Fahdi real father who had an urgent meeting to attend and couldn’t make it. He introduced everyone in the entourage. Fahdi’s family filled our sitting room and spilt outside. This was just the introduction.
After much discussion back and forth, they requested for the list and the date for the ‘engagement’. My father explained to them they would get the list and a date. The issue was raised of the wedding to be conducted in Abia state. Fahdi stepfather explained to my father there was no way they would risk lives to travel to Abia when it could be done in Lagos. He appealed to them to reconsider and make Lagos the location for the wedding otherwise they might have to back out.
My relatives promised to look into it and get back to them. That was where it ended. They ate and drank. I left with Fahdi and my daughter. The family remained. Their prese-nce caused a stir in my neighbourhood. The array of vehicles and cl@$$ of people prese-nt made my father proud.
“Your father is proud of you now because you brou-ght a rich suitor” Fahdi announced.
“Are you rich?”
“He is not aware of that. He is looking at my family and believing I am one of them. I am highly disappointed in him though. He should have apologized for rejecting you. He should tell you to your face how proud he is of you and how he failed as a father in guiding you when you fell by the roadside, instead he dragged you into the mud and abandoned you there.”
“He didn’t know better”
“He did. He chose not to be a father but an enemy. He made you make mistakes, almost life-threatening mistakes. I know everything about you, Esther. I knew it even before you came to Ijebu Ode. I will reveal some more things to you later. For now, I will tolerate your father but I won’t have a relationship with him”
I was wondering why Fahdi was so bitter. It hurt me. I looked at him with sadness in my eyes. I felt he was attacking my family. When he saw I was unhappy, he added.
“Have I ever spoken like this about your mother or grandmother? Those two are saints and you took after them. Your immediate younger brother is your father; I wasn’t interested in the rest. His true colours will come forth soon. Remind him we will call off the traditional marriage if he insists on doing it in Abia. I want your grandmother there”
My father se-nt for me and so I came to Lagos to see him.” I want to give your husband’s family the list. I have discussed with my people and they have decided the traditional wedding will hold in Abia or they leave off”
I looked at the list and I couldn’t believe my eyes. It looked like I was up for sale. My father requested for his house in the village to be renovated. He also wanted a car. I laughed so ha-rd the man stared at me.
“What is this? Look daddy, my husband will not fulfil anything here. Go back and bring a normal list and don’t act like a gold digger. He will not renovate your house in the village; let your sons do it. I am getting married traditionally here in Lagos; if you refuse, then I have my church wedding in Ijebu ode. I am legally married to him already. We will wait until you come to your se-nses or until you die and then my husband will do the nee-dful. You have invited your entire family here to see your rich in-laws; what will they say when they hear they backed out and still have your daughter?”
“I have always known you have no se-nse. This is an opportunity to give your father something as compensation for the shame and disgrace you caused me. You are insisting on supporting a man who doesn’t know you. I have said he has a problem; if not, why would a fine young man like that want to marry a wayward woman who had a child outside wedlock?”
“I should compensate you? Why should I? You ruined my life and crushed my self-esteem. I went back to Emmanuel just because you were in my head telling me I will have children with different men. He used me and wasted my years all because of you. That wayward woman has a child with a man who loves her regardless of all he knows about her but you want to destroy that. My husband will not go to Abia for you to show off to your family I am married into wealth. If you don’t want to do it here, then I will cancel the traditional wedding. I want a reasonable list and the date. We will choose a venue and do the wedding. Ok?”
My father stared at me in surprise. My mother had a hu-ge smile on her face when I stood up for myself. I picked up my handbag and left him. I was throu-ghwith him. He hadn’t changed; he just wanted the money and fame. Fahdi saw throu-ghhim. I was no longer desperate for his approval. I promised myself that after the wedding, I wouldn’t have anything whatsoever to do with him.
My father refused to get back to them. Fahdi travelled to Lagos to meet with my father. It was when he came back he told me his father went with him. Well, he didn’t tell me what was discussed but the wedding date was decided and it would hold in Lagos. Preparations could commence.
Tbc