Chapter 1
Women of Strength!”
“WOMEN OF POWER!”
Nkechi chanted at the Godspower Association of Widows. She never believed she would be a widow at this point in her life. At 39, she had high hopes for herself and had already envisioned what her family would be like—the family vacations she would take with her husband and two sons.Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be. A call at 2 p.m. on the afternoon of August 7th rocked her world.
“What do you mean car accident? Please, Mike, if this is a joke, stop it,” she scoffed at the driver who called to break the news to her.When he didn’t take it back, Nkechi quickly put on the yellow bubu gown her husband had gotten her the previous Valentine’s Day and rushed to the hospital where her family had been admitted.
“Mrs. Uzodinma, please calm down. We’re going to do our best. They just brought them in. They are currently in the theatre being operated on,” the family doctor, Dr. Ayo, tried to soothe her as she paced around the emergency room.
“Ayo, nothing must happen to my family, oo!
Where do I start from?
Were Ikenna and Azagom in the car too?
Were they awake?
Oh God, please don’t forsake me!”
She rolled on the floor, wailing and crying.
Nkechi spent five hours in the emergency room waiting for any report on how the surgery went. She knew it was five hours because she set an alarm for every hour as she prayed and cried.
She thought back to the last words she said to her husband as he left the house: “Nna, please stop at that restaurant and buy that hot puff puff when you’re coming.”
Her last words to her seven- and eleven-year-old sons were, “Run and meet your daddy so he won’t leave you behind.”
She couldn’t let those be the last words she ever said to her family.
“Mrs. Nkechi, I’m sorry to tell you this. Please take heart—we lost them during surgery,” Dr. Ayo said.
Nkechi went cold. She couldn’t hear the sympathy in the doctor’s voice or any of the background noise in the hospital.
How would she do life without her husband, Charles? Her two boys—her baby boys. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t think. She stared at an old man picking his nose in the waiting room. She was supposed to grow old with Charles. He had promised to love her until the world gave out.
“I will love you with my life, and I will grow old with you. You’ll never be alone,” Charles had promised her. And now he was dead. Who was going to love her forever? Her baby boys, her bundles of joy. She could still remember Ikenna’s laugh when he took his first step and Azagom’s funny way of saying “momo” when he uttered his first words.
She would never get to see their beautiful faces again—never see them become teenagers, never hear their laughter or smell their sweat-drenched uniforms.
Nkechi had a blank stare throughout the funeral. She barely heard the condolences her family members offered. The whole thing felt like a blur—from the planning and preparations to the cutting of her hair. She followed her older sister around drowsily as they carried out the ceremonies.
She had to be injected with supplements because she refused to eat, and her sister had to clean her because she refused to take a shower.
Four months after the funeral, Nkechi began to regain control of herself and her mind. She slowly began to feed herself and bathe regularly. She still had nightmares of Ikenna crying out to her as he bled from his head, while her husband’s dismembered body lay close to the car wreck. She woke up most mornings sad and screaming, but real life felt more devastating than the dreams.
“Silas, please open the gate for me. I want to drive out,” she said to the gateman as she walked over to her late husband’s Range Rover.
“Okay, madam. Buy something for me when you come back, oo,” the gateman with the crooked teeth muttered.
As Nkechi drove out, she reminisced about the moments when she would drop her boys off at school and how they would have sing-alongs in the car. She was so lost in thought that she almost hit a woman trying to cross the road. She quickly parked and stepped out.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there. I hope you’re okay?” she said as she rushed to the woman’s side.
“I dey okay, ma. No mind me—I no know when I waka enter road,” the woman said as Nkechi assisted her to her feet.
Taking a closer look, Nkechi noticed that the woman was very beautiful—and very pregnant.
“Please, let me take you to wherever you’re going. It’s the least I can do,” she offered.
“No worry, ma. The hospital I dey go no far from here at all,” the woman replied, trying to walk away. But Nkechi insisted, and soon they were both in the car heading to the hospital.
“How far along are you?” Nkechi asked, stealing glances at the woman’s bump.
“I don enter seven months like this, ma. Very soon I go drop,” she said with a smile, caressing her belly.
“I’m sorry, I forgot to ask your name. Mine is Nkechi. What’s yours?”
“Stella, ma,” the pregnant woman replied.
“Please stop with all this ‘ma, ma’ thing, jare. You think say I don old? Na stress make me look like this, oo,” Nkechi replied with a sad smile.
“Ahh, madam, so you sabi speak pidgin?” Stella asked.
“Yes, naa. No be Naija all of us gather dey?” she replied.
The two burst into laughter and began talking about Nigeria and the economy. This was the first time since the death of her family that Nkechi had smiled or spoken to anyone for this long.
She enjoyed Stella’s company and was glad she had met her. Stella explained that she had lost her husband in a bike accident on his way back from his bricklaying job. This was supposed to be their first child, but she was doing it all alone.
Nkechi assured her that this wouldn’t be the case—she would be with her every step of the way.
After dropping her off at the antenatal clinic, Nkechi waited. She had planned to go to the supermarket to buy groceries, but she lost interest and would rather spend her day with Stella.
“Ahhh, madam, you still dey here?” Stella exclaimed as she walked out of the doctor’s office.
“I decided to wait for you and see if you needed anything,” Nkechi said, smiling as she walked toward Stella to help with her bags.
While in the car, Nkechi couldn’t stop glancing at Stella, who continuously caressed her tummy. The gesture was strangely comforting to Nkechi, but it also stirred a deep feeling within her.
“Madam, just drop me for that shop there—na my shop be that,” Stella said, pointing to a beaten-down kiosk that looked like it was held together mostly by prayer and nails.
“Stella, please take care of yourself, ooh. Here’s my number—call me if you need anything. In fact, tomorrow I’m coming back here to see you,” Nkechi said as she hugged Stella and squeezed 10,000 naira into her hand.
Stella thanked her, but as Nkechi watched her walk away, her eyes were fixed on Stella’s bulging belly. She thought of her boys, how they felt as babies, how they smelled. She missed that feeling. As she stared at Stella, she wondered what it would be like to have that again.
A dark thought began brewing in her mind, but she quickly shook it off and hopped into her car.
