"This is not a mere story, this is the Story of how I lived and I want you to read it, don't cry for me, don't be sad at least I survived. Maybe"
By me
"yusuf!" I exclaimed, glaring at him. "What's the meaning of this?"
"And you're here sauntering around the house like you own it," he sneered, his grip on my arm tightening. "Look how your skin is shining. You really are enjoying my father's money. Who would have ever thought you were such a viper? A money-hungry viper!"
I tugged at my arm, desperate to break free, but he held on tighter.
"You didn't struggle with my brother, but instead gave him a free pass to the honeypot between your legs."
I tried to wrestle my hand away, but he only just held on tighter.
"To think I had you right there before me but chose to be the perfect gentleman," he said, pulling me closer to him. "I could have slept with you in that dump you call your house, but I was there thinking you were this virginal prize I had won. A prize to be saved for later. What a fool I was!"
"If you don't let go of me, I'll scream," I said sharply, glaring at him.
"Since you've been giving freely to every man in this house, I don't see why I should be left out," he grunted, pulling me closer. "That should be my compensation for waiting for you like a fool. I didn't even look at another woman while I was gone."
His lips tried to claim mine, but my reflexes were way too sharp for that.
There was no way I was going to allow myself to be taken advantage of by another man of this household.
With my free hand, I slapped him hard across the face.
Just as he held his face in stunned surprise, I heard a gasp come from the door.
It was another one of their kind but this one was kind to me.
"What on earth is going on here?" he demanded, looking from Yusuf to me in surprise. "Why did you slap him?"
"She's trying to act like the two of us don't go way back!" he said, pushing me away and making me stumble.
"You two know each other?" he exclaimed, looking, not at his brother, but at me.
"I'm the last person you should be worried about," Yusuf retorted.
"Guess where I found her this morning. In bed with Ibrahim, that's where! The two of them stark naked," he looked at me with so much contempt, it was difficult to remember him as the young man who had been so enamoured with me only a short while before.
"I wouldn't waste my time on her, if I were you. She's nothing but an opportunist."
He walked away, but he kept her eyes on me.
"Tell me this isn't true. Tell me all what he said are lies!" he demanded.
The thought of losing the only true friend I had in this household filled me with dread. "please hear. Hear me out."
"Don't touch me!" he yelled, as I made to hold her. "Jesus Christ! You were in bed with ibrahim? You are sleeping with Ibrahim? Under my father's roof? And yusuf– you knew him before? You and I were together for over two weeks when I came here for a visit, and you never even cared to mention that very important detail? I talked about Yusuf all the time, but you just kept quiet as if you didn't know who he was, yet you were sleeping with him before you married my father?"
"No, please. I swear it," I pleaded. "You need to let me explain."
"What do you want to explain? Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed, looking at me like I was the eighth wonder of the world.
"I was so wrong about you. I thought you were an innocent girl who life had happened to. I had no idea you're just a common prostitute. Sleeping with a man and his two sons? You are sick!"
At that very moment, I knew I'd had enough. I stepped back, straightened my shoulders and looked her straight in the face, determined not to be disrespected, neither by her nor anyone else. Not anymore.
"Don't insult me, please !" I said, my voice scared but firm. "You have no idea what I have had to endure. You have no right to call me names."
. "You gutter girl! And to think I thought we were friends!"
"I thought so too," was my unshaken answer.
She glared at me, the hatred she now felt oozing out of every pore of her body, before storming off towards the other wing of the house.
Watching him go, I felt absolutely nothing. I had gone beyond the point of feeling distraught or devastated.
Yes, it was unfortunate to have lost a friend in him, but I hadn't come to this monster's house to make friends.
I noticed madam Maria standing at the door leading to the kitchen, and from the muffled sounds I could hear, the other domestic staff were also lurking around.
They had all obviously witnessed the whole thing. But I didn't care.
"Please have the rest of my meals served to me in my bedroom," I instructed madam Maria, ready to eat in isolation for as long as it took for all of them to leave.
Madam Maria nodded, her face downcast.
With my head held high, I glided up the stairs. Upon getting to my bedroom, I locked the door firmly and looked around for possible weapons I would use in self-defense if Yusuf tried to attack me there.
Noting my bedside lamp, ottoman, transistor radio, and even the encyclopaedia on my coffee table, I decided they would have to do.
Yes, circumstances beyond my control had made me submit my body to his father and brother, but I'd be damned if I would add him to my body count, no matter whatever love I'd felt for him in the past.
Thankfully, Ibrahim didn't come to my room that night either.
I overheard the minister's voice and deduced he had returned from his trip.
I couldn't help but wonder if his child would tell him what he had seen or what Yusuf had told her about I Ibrahim.
Or maybe Ibrahim would even tell him himself.
Yes, the old man knew about it, but who knew if hearing about Ibrahim and I from his other children would rub him the wrong way? To my relief, nothing happened that evening.
I wasn't summoned to minster's bedroom and, instead, slept like a baby that night.
The next day was the same. Besides madam Maria, nobody else came to my bedroom. But when this repeated again the day after, which was Christmas Eve, I started wondering what was going on.
"The house has been very quiet," I remarked to madam, as she placed my dinner tray on the table.
"They decided not to spend Christmas here," she answered. "They all left for Paris yesterday."
"Even Ibrahim?"
Madam Maria nodded, her face grim.
She was clearly not pleased about this turn of events. "Yes, even him."
Honestly, that was the best thing I had heard since my arrival in America. The next morning, I dressed up in my best and accompanied madam Maria and her young daughter, zara, to the church in town, since I don't know any mosque around but it was fun, we worshipped as they called it and sang Christmas carols.
It made me so happy and reminded me of happier times with my beloved ummi.
Upon our return, I accompanied them for Christmas lunch at her older sister's house, which was an elaborate affair with almost all the women in their family gathered in the backyard, making pots and pots of delicacies. It felt just like home I never had.
For the first time since being in the mansion, there was no fear looming over my head like a dark cloud.
The wonderful feeling lasted for well over a week, but alas, on the fifth day of the New Year, the minister and Ibrahim returned. Watching them from my window as they disembarked from the car made my stomach drop, and hearing that all-too-familiar knock on my door that night even more so.
Regardless, I was just grateful I'd been able to have a much-needed break from their tyranny, but unfortunately, it was now back to status quo.
The weeks turned into months, and madam Maria had cause to take me back to the clinic in Asaba a few more times. By the fourth time, the doctor insisted on fitting me with a contraceptive device. From the framed photographs he had on his desk, he had two daughters who looked to be around my age, which explained the firm set of his mouth each time I returned.
Even though it was initially commerce for him, I guess seeing me return again and again must have been too much for even him to bear.
But everything doesn't always work as planned.
Words will never be enough to articulate how I felt when I saw her, after almost a year.
Yes I got pregnant again after all the abortion ls and pills. Only for me to go to the hospital and come back with a child.
The doctor called it a cryptic pregnancy.
I had happy tears in my eyes, listening to her rattle on.
I wanted her to be happy and I wanted to make it possible, And that was when it hit me, the sad reality that, whether I liked it or not, this hell was now the only home I had. I couldn't survive anywhere else.
Not anymore, not with my child.