EARLY PREGNANCY

Episode 1

I got pregnant at twelve and it was one of the worst moments of my life.

My father decided to trade me for a piece of land.

Where's this useless child? I could hear Daddy's voice echoing through our nearly empty house, devoid of furniture.

I hurriedly responded to him and found Alhaji sitting in a chair, having a discussion with Daddy about me.

When he saw me, he smiled and said, "She's old enough to get pregnant."

I couldn't help but murmur, "Doesn't this man realize I'm only 12?

Papa was grinning from ear to ear, as if he had just hit the jackpot.

"Pack your bags, you're going home with Alhaji," he said.

Alhaji is a wealthy man with lots of land and he's in charge of the cows in the village.

But one thing I don't like about him is that he already has eight wives, and marrying him would make me the ninth wife.

In my village, marriages aren't based on love.

You might not even know the person you're going to marry until they suddenly appear and take you away.

That was exactly my situation.

I knew Alhaji was my father's friend, but I had no idea that my father would sell me to him just for a piece of land.

And to make matters worse, I was only twelve years old. It was a really tough situation to be in.

I had no choice but to pack my bags. Then Mom came into the room, tears streaming down her face.

She said, "I know you're too young for this, but you have to adapt.

I was your age when I got married to your father.

"Tradition permits a man to marry as many women as he wants.

Here, men marry their wives at a young age, and the wives grow up in their husband's houses.

None of the things she said interested me.

I was lost in thoughts about my friends and how we would be separated from each other.

When she finally finished giving advice, I carried my bags on my head and took the bush paths to Alhaji's house.

He followed me from behind.

I didn't want to say a word to him because out of all the maidens in the village, he chose me to ruin my life.

I knew he promised my dad that I would continue going to school in his house, but I knew he was lying.

It's the same thing my friend's husband said when he married her, but she has given birth to three children and he hasn't mentioned school.

Whenever she brings up the topic, he gets angry and leaves the house.

I kept wondering why my father will even think about getting me married to his age mate.

Alhaji was nothing like the kind of man I had pictured in my mind to marry.

He was short, plump, with a pot belly and a set of unarranged teeth that looked like a saw ready to cut down trees.

Even the way he walked irritated me. I mean, seriously, there was nothing attractive about him.

I'm pretty sure all the women who agreed to marry him were just after his money.

We finally arrived at his house, and even the children who came out to greet us,

some were older than I was, and some were my age mates. Finally, the women came out.

Sannu da zuwa, mai gida, they echoed in unison, I just stood still as he introduced me to them.

I didn't know if I should address them as my co-wives, mummies, or even aunties.

They were old enough to be my grandmothers, except for the younger wife who could pass for an elderly sister.

They all welcomed me as the children rushed to take my bags from me.

The last wife frowned at me and went inside her hut, maybe she was thinking I will take her place, i didn't even care about her husband.

I followed them as they showed me to my hut.

It was built separately from the other huts.

I shut my door and laid on the mat to sleep.

Little did I know, that was just the beginning of my problems.

Getting married to Alhaji was the greatest mistake I have ever made in my life.

Initially, his other wives welcomed me into the family with open arms even to the extent of throwing a party to celebrate my marriage to Alhaji.

The feast was a massive one that cows were killed and many other alhajis were invited to grace the occasion.

Then he introduced me as his newest wife, he wasn't even ashamed of introducing a twelve year old as his newest wife.

They all made merriment, I knew at that time a lot of children would have dreamt of getting married to an Alhaji.

Days passed and the characters of the women began unfolding one after the other.

The youngest wife heaped clothes at the entrance of my hut for me to wash.

I woke up one morning to find hundreds of clothes piled up, and I was so surprised!

Then, she visited my hut and told me it was her turn to wash the children's clothes, her clothes, and Alhaji's clothes.

She said I needed to wash them to prove I would make a good wife.

I packed the clothes and washed them one after the other and hung them on the clothesline to dry.

But when she just came from her hut, she threw the clothes on the floor.

Aisha, she called and I came out from my hut." -

What nonsēnse is this? Why are the necks of these clothes still dirty? Why didn't you wash the hands?"

She scolded me, spitting on the ground.

I couldn't talk back because she was my elder and talking back would be seen as an insult.

After she finished shouting, I packed the clothes to rewashed them, and that's when the chaos in the house started.

The children offered to help me wash, but she shouted at them to go to their huts.

I felt hopeless and had to sit down and rewash the clothes to make her satisfied. In the evening, when Alhaji came to my hut, I complained about what happened.

But he said that she's my senior and I should do anything she asks without complaint.

It was tough because even Alhaji wasn't on my side.

I knew I was in for serious problems.

When he left that night, I sat outside and thought about my life and how poverty had worsened it for me by marrying me off at twelve.

In my village, many girls don't go to school and are expected to marry at a young age.

If a girl doesn't get married by fifteen, people assume she couldn't be a good wife.

It's believed that the Alhaji foresaw this, and other children start avoiding her.

I knew my father felt obligated to marry me off, even against my wishes, and now I'm suffering because of tradition.

While lost in thought, a girl my age named Miriam touched me.

I couldn't pronounce her second name, no matter how hard I tried.

She's going to face the same fate in a few months. Her father plans to marry her to an Alhaji too.

It's heartbreaking because she didn't have the chance to go to school and was only taught farm work and kitchen duties. I feel so bad for her.

She couldn't even read and write.

She touched me and I turned to face me, she had tears in her eyes. "What is it, dear?" I asked curiously.

As she wiped her eyes with her hands, she said, "I saw the Alhaji my dad is arranging for me to marry.

Someone showed him to me today on my way to the farm.

I don't want to marry someone like that. He's too old for me."

I tried to explain that tradition is tradition and no matter how hard we try, we can't change anything, she didn't let me finish.

She responded, "I will do something about it.

They can't do what your parents did to you," and then she ran back to her hut.

Pregnant at Twelve

I didn't hear from Miriam all day. She wouldn't eat or leave her hut. I was really worried about her.

Her mom kept going in and out of the hut, but I finally went in when her mom stepped out to talk to her.

"Miriam, what do you have in mind?" I asked, suspicious that she might have a plan because Miriam was a smart girl.

She just looked at me and smiled, "Aisha," she said, "just know that I won't just wait for my father to sell me off to an old man.

" She responded with so much confidence.

I left the hut so that no one would see me because the younger wives were forbidden to enter the children's hut, except if we took permission from their mothers.

And in this case, I didn't take permission.

I spent the whole day thinking about what Miriam had in mind so I could talk some sense into her.

Her marriage to the Alhaji was fast approaching, and Alhaji called a meeting that we should start planning for Miriam's marriage to Alhaji.

He wanted it to be the best marriage in the history of the land.

"As you wish," we echoed in unison.

We started making arrangements for the marriage, although I wasn't happy about it.

I had to pretend to be so that if anything happens, they won't say I pioneered it.

We started with arranging the cows for the occasion, which were twenty in total, and the young men helped us to kill the cows while we cooked them in large pots.

I was in charge of taking care of the children;

they were in my hut for the day, but Miriam refused to come out of her hut, so we allowed her to be.

Shortly after, the younger wife came to my hut and asked why I was idle and only with the children.

I tried to explain, and she gave me a slap in front of the children.

"Come on, go and cook". I saw stars. I had to hurriedly rush to join the other women in cooking to avoid another slap.

I didn't even reach where they were "why are you here and where are my children?

Mama Miriam asked, she is the first wife of Alhaji and very beautiful, I always wonder what made her marry such a low-class man.

She was also Miriam's mother. I didn't know what to say as she asked me to go back and stay with the children.

The day arrived for Alhaji to marry Miriam. He came with his people and his sons, and I couldn't help but wonder why he was still searching for a wife with two grown-up sons.

When it was time to reveal the bride, we went inside the house, but Miriam was nowhere to be found.

It dawned on me that she had planned to run away.

I prayed for her safety. Alhaji was furious with everyone, suspecting that someone had helped her escape.

All fingers pointed at me, with him accusing, "Aisha, you planned with Miriam to escape so that you could escape too!" He stood up in anger.

"Follow me to my hut", he said.

I got up and followed him praying that he doesn't beat me to death, when I entered his room, I saw him naked.

"You want to go outside and meet another Man? I think I have pampered you enough," Alhaji said.

"Spread your legs." I knew it was all over.

I did as I was commanded as he had his way with me forcefully.

I bled, and he asked the older wife to take me out of his hut.

Mama Miriam took me to her hut, and after crying, she used hot water to touch every part of my body while I screamed in pain. She was crying too.

"Thank God my daughter ran away," she said.

"I really wish you did the same." I could feel the pain in her voice as she spoke.

After a moment of silence, she used a hot cloth to tend to my private parts.

Finally, she opened her mouth and said, "I helped her escape.

I didn't want my daughter to suffer the same fate I did because of a tradition that doesn't care about anyone."

My mouth hung open wide because I had always seen her as a loyal wife to Alhaji and never thought she would do something like that.

Although I knew a mother can do anything for her daughter, I was just unlucky that I didn't have that kind of mother.

She looked at me with pity and then said, "I sent her to stay with my mother's people in the neighboring village.

I feel like I have wronged you by allowing Alhaji to punish you this way.

I know how painful it is because I have been in your shoes before.

When I was twelve, my father sold me out to a man I didn't love in order to settle his debt.

I didn't know my left from right, but he just gave me away.

My mom couldn't do anything about it.

She would have stopped him if she wanted to.' She said this with tears dropping from her eyes, and I wiped the tears away.

"It's okay," I said. "There's no need to tell Alhaji, or else he might do something bad to you."

She couldn't even look at me in the face. I knew she did everything for her daughter, and I couldn't bring myself to blame her.

She left my hut to attend to her children, and I lay in pain until I fell asleep, trying to shut myself off from reality.

She kept coming back to check on me, and I knew it was out of guilt.

Even when I tried to stop her, she insisted on taking care of me.

Months passed, and I wasn't feeling like myself.

Alhaji hadn't said anything about my health or even asked about me.

To him, I didn't exist. I kept experiencing stomach pains, and my complexion completely changed, with two different colours, white and black.

I refused to leave my hut and would feel feverish in the morning, but it would disappear in the afternoon.

The pain became unbearable, and I would wail until it subsided.

I didn't know what to do. One morning, Mama Miriam came to my hut to check if I had fully recovered.

She made it her duty to care for me.

She saw me vomiting and closely examined me to find out if I was okay.

I tried to act okay, but then she said something that completely shocked me:

'Aisha, you are pregnant?' 'Pregnant?' I screamed in disbelief.

I asked myself how I would even go about the pregnancy.

Am I not too young for this? I felt so confused about what to do with my life.

Getting pregnant, especially with a man like Alhaji, was the worst thing I could think of.

Just as I was thinking about myself, I suddenly felt dizzy and fell to the ground.

She called on others to pick me up and they took me to my room.

They poured water on me to revive me.

When I woke up, I saw Alhaji sitting at the top of my bed. When I opened my eyes, he said, 'Welcome back.

Just pray to Allah to give you a female child, as a replacement for my daughter, whom I can give to my good friend Alhaji.

Otherwise, I will throw you out of this house.

I closed my eyes again, shutting off from my ugly realities.

When I opened my eyes, I saw Mama Miriam holding my hands.

She must have been scared that something bad happened when I shut my eyes.

"Are you okay?" she asked, looking worried.

I nodded without saying anything.

The midwife was by her side, with her hands on her shoulder. She said, "You are too young to get pregnant.

I don't think you will be able to push the baby when it is time.

In critical cases like this, it's either the mother or the baby who will make it out alive, not both."

She told everyone that I couldn't do anything until I gave birth.

It seemed like they all agreed, but no one cared if I was pregnant or not.

I still had to work. The only person who cared was Mama Miriam because she had a daughter who almost went through a similar situation.

And she was also a victim of child marriage.

I was confined to my room for two days, unable to move.

Mama Miriam would bring me food, but neither Alhaji nor anyone else came to check on me.

They all just left me to my fate. I wrote a letter to my mom, explaining everything I've been through since becoming Alhaji's bride.

Her response was disappointing. She told me to be patient and do whatever they ask, that Allah would reward me in due time. I was disgusted.

I expected her to save me from this situation, but she didn't understand what I was going through.

After reading the letter, I tore it into pieces making sure I didn't see even a letter again.

she failed me as a mother for the second time.

"Aisha, you have been given too much time to fully recover, get up and get to work".

That was the voice of the youngest wife, she finally drew closer exposing her cruel face.

She opened the door and saw me lying on the mat.

All she said was, "I've been doing all the work in the house, and that thing you're carrying in your womb isn't more important than anyone else.

Get up and wash those clothes on the floor, and when you're done, I'll show you what else you should do."

She pointed at the heap of clothes she threw on the floor.

As I lay on the bed, I couldn't help but wonder why she does those things when Mama Miriam isn't around.

Despite my condition, I mustered the strength to get up and slowly made my way outside.

Every step felt like I could fall at any moment, and unfortunately, it happened. I stumbled, but I tried my best to get back on my feet.

With the bucket in hand, I started washing the clothes, all while she sat there watching me.

While I was washing, she kept hurling insults at me, but I stayed silent.

I focused on the task at hand, imagining a better life for myself.

After finishing the washing, she took the clothes to dry them in a hidden place, so no one would see I washed them.

Then, she returned and said, "Aisha, come with me to my hut.

I need to give you my clay pot so you can fetch water from the stream.".

"But there's enough water in the huts, and it's the children's job to fetch water," I responded, but she quickly silenced me.

"What are you? Aren't you a child? Follow me," she said firmly.

Reluctantly, I followed her to her hut, where she brought out a large clay pot for me to use in fetching water.

As soon as I saw the pot, I knew that using it to climb the hills would be as dangerous as facing death itself.

In a desperate attempt to escape, I collapsed to the floor, screaming in pain from my stomach.

It was the only way out of my problem at that moment, and everyone rushed to help me while she stood there, speechless.

Alhaji heard our voices and came out of his hut, and as he opened his mouth, everyone stumbled.

"What's going on here?" he asked, as Mama Miriam lifted me from the ground.

No one said anything. "Am I not talking to humans?" he thundered, shaking the youngest wife.

She claimed, "I came out of my hut and saw her lying on the floor, and I had to call for help," even though it was a lie.

I didn't want to say anything to Alhaji because there was nothing else to say.

She had already said everything, and I knew he would believe her because she had a way of making him believe her.

"Why did you fall?" he asked, and what are you doing outside? Didn't the midwife tell you to stay in your room without doing anything?

He didn't let me answer; he said, "Make sure nothing happens to my child, or else it will be better if you were dēād because what I will do to you will be worse than that."

He stormed back to his hut. The youngest wife looked at me, and I knew it was her way of getting back at me for what I did.

She sighed and left for her hut.

Halfway to her hut, she turned and smiled mischievously and then entered her hut.

I knew she felt fulfilled. It was a narrow escape for her.

Mama Miriam looked at me and said, "Tell me the truth, what happened here?

I knew you didn't fall just like that. Did she do anything to you?"

I shook my head. There was no need to tell her about anything that happened because it would only make the youngest wife hūrt me more when she isn't around.

I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, so I avoided looking into Mama Miriam's eyes.

I quietly entered my hut and burst into tears.

I didn't even care if anyone was following me.

It was enough that I got pregnant by the man I hāted so much.

I kept asking Allah why my situation was different.

Other girls my age were married to good Alhajis who took care of them and acted as fathers, but my situation was different.

I felt like I was moving from one problem to another.

The next day wasn't any better.

I woke up with swollen eyes from crying all night, praying to Allah to save me.

The first thing I encountered outside my hut was a needle that piērced my leg.

I didn't even realize when I stepped on it.

I screamed for help and saw the youngest daughter's daughter laughing at me.

I called her to come here, but she refused.

I suspected she was responsible for what happened and thrēatenēd to tell Alhaji.

Finally, she came, shivering.

It was obvious that everyone in the house was afraid of Alhaji.

"My mom asked me to drop it outside your hut that you will step on it", she said.

She said I should help her get rīd of you, claiming that you want to give birth to an ēvil child so that daddy will transfer all the love he has for us to you.

I couldn't believe what a little girl like her was saying.

I didn't blame her because everything she did, her mother sent her to do it.

I kept thinking, why would she think I would get all the love from Alhaji? He didn't care if I existed or not.

The wound became deeper that I kept wondering if she used a spiritual needle, 'cause it was getting worse every day and started to smēll.

Alhaji had to call the medicine man. I didn't tell anyone about the wound or how I got it.

The medicine man examined it and said it wasn't a normal wound.

He asked how it happened, and I told him I woke up with it on my right leg.

I knew he didn't believe me. Then he said something shocking that made me really worried.

He said, "If the wound doesn't heal by next week, we might have to amputāte your leg."

The thought of losing my leg hīt me like a thunderbolt.

"How will I even survive without a leg"?

The medicine man kept bothering me to tell him where I got the wound from so he could help me.

But I didn't think it was necessary to tell him anything.

I had this strong belief that Allah would heal my wound.

It got worse when water started dripping out and it had a bad scent.

I had to be carried everywhere, even when I needed to go to the bathroom.

The pain was so unbearable that I lost my appetite, the pregnancy was another problem on its own because the baby kept growing bigger in my womb.

I needed to work outside or exercise a bit for the baby to return to its normal size.

The medicine man called me for the last time and said, "See, you are joking with your life.

Imagine a young girl like you losing one leg.

How will you survive?

Are you okay experiencing so much pain at such a young age?

Tell me where you got this wound from so that I can help you heal it before it's too late."

It was difficult to say because I didn't have any evidence to prove that the youngest wife was responsible for the wound on my legs.

If I say anything, she would lie again and I would have been the one in trouble.

I responded with, "I woke up with the wound on my right leg. It just happened out of nowhere."

He looked at me with a frown and said, "Since you said the wound just appeared on your leg, I don't have anything to say.

Just get yourself prepared. Tomorrow, I will cut off your leg to save your life.

You need to agree to it, and I will also seek Alhaji's consent.

I know he will do anything for his unborn child." After he said that, he left.

I felt like my world had crashed. How could I deliberately agree to have my leg cut off?

I asked myself. "But if I tell them anything, how will they even believe me when I haven't complained before?"

I kept asking myself questions and questioning my existence on earth.

It felt like life was really dealing with me.

I didn't know the sins I had committed that attracted such punishments from Allah.

It was as if I was atoning for my sins.

I comported myself while lying on my bed, using a handkerchief to wipe the water coming out of my legs.

It was a horrible sight to behold. "Is anybody there? Please help me!"

I called out to anyone who could hear me outside, hoping to be laid to sit outside for a little while since the house was hot.

But no one came. I dragged myself outside, taking one step and then another, bit by bit, until I reached the door.

I stumbled on a chair close to the door and fell, hitting my wounded leg on the chair.

The pain was unbearable. I consoled myself, knowing that crying was useless because no one would come to my aid.

Even if I had gone back home, I knew my mother would send me back to my husband's house.

I was sold for a price and they were enjoying the benefits while I suffered.

As I thought about my parents, my anger towards them grew worse.

I wished I could see them close to me, so I could confront them like a wounded lion ready to pounce on its prey.

I spent the whole day praying to Allah, asking for mercy and confessing my known and unknown sins, crying for healing.

At night, when I managed to enter the house, the pain grew stronger and I couldn't sleep throughout the night.

I felt like it was the end because the pain was unbearable.

I didn't think anyone could tolerate such pain.

In the morning, I knew I needed help because I was dying, and if I didn't speak up, something worse could happen.

I walked slowly until I reached Alhaji's hut.

It was the first time I had visited his hut since becoming his wife, and I felt like there was no point in visiting.

Finally, I reached his hut and called his name.

Someone seemed to be working at the door, and I collapsed to the floor, shutting my eyes.

At least if anything happens, it should happen outside his hut.

I really needed help.

Alhaji finally opened the door and saw me on the floor.

For the first time, I could see fear in his eyes as I opened my eyes a bit to peep when he turned to call for help.

He carried me in his arms to the medicine man's house, while the women followed him at the back, murmuring and asking questions.

"Stop talking, you're not in the market," he shouted at them.

As he shouted, they all retreated and went back home, while we continued our journey.

We arrived at the medicine man's hut, and he was sitting outside, offering prayers to Allah with his legs crossed.

When he heard our voices, he stopped the prayers and rushed to get me from Alhaji, who was already breathing heavily as if he had just finished climbing a mountain.

As he placed me on the mat, I opened my eyes. "Thanks to Allah you are awake," Alhaji said.

The medicine man looked at me, and he began using leaves to wipe off the evil eyes from my body.

When he was done, he said, "You have a very slim chance of survival, and you need to speak now before your legs are cut off."

With fear, I started talking.

I stepped on a needle outside my hut, and the pain was unbearable.

Then I saw Amina, the youngest wife's daughter, laughing at me.

I asked why she was laughing, but she didn't say a word.

I had to threaten her that I would tell Alhaji what happened.

Then she confessed that her mother sent her to put the needle where I would step on it.

Since that day, I haven't been comfortable, and my legs started swelling.

Alhaji was shocked he heard this. He said, "She can never do that.

I know my wife." But the medicine man smiled and said, "You wouldn't know. The heart of man is ."

Alhaji didn't say anything after that, he just waited for the medicine man to start treating my legs.

And finally, he did. As he closely examined my leg and poured some substances on it, he said, "It was not an ordinary needle."

I was satisfied that I had told him what happened, and he touched my legs.

Then he brought out a little needle that was almost the size of a pin.

Alhaji looked at it with disbelief.

I wondered what was going through his mind at that point.

He stood there, watching what the medicine man was doing.

When the man was done, the man said, "The pin was supposed to harm your unborn baby, not you.

But it seems Allah turned it to you to save the baby.

From tomorrow, the pain will start going away until it's completely gone.

Don't eat any food from your household. You might not know who prepared it."

When he was done, I let out a sigh of relief and imagined how I could have lost my life due to my own carelessness.

We thanked him, and I could finally leap home, at least, while Alhaji followed from behind.

When we arrived back home, we were only halfway to the compound when Alhaji called all his wives out.

He screamed their names one after the other.

As they came out, I just sat down in a corner and watched to see what he would do.

He also called the youngest wife's daughter, Amina, and she came out shivering.

He started, "I called all of you here because I have never supported hatred in my household.

I have loved all of you equally." They started whispering amongst themselves, and he shouted them down.

Everywhere became quiet while he continued.

"Amina, tell me what happened to your mommy, Aisha," he asked with a frown.

With her little voice, she started, "Nothing happened. Mom went to her hut and saw her on the floor that day."

She didn't finish when Alhaji cut her off.

"Go on your knees. Your mother told you to lie.

If you don't tell me the truth, I will so flog you.

Shivering, she said, "Mommy asked me to put the needle outside her hut."

"Continue kneeling," Alhaji flared with rage. "No child of mine will become a liar in this house."

Alhaji said as he went to the backyard and got a cane.

He whipped her on the back, saying, "Next time your mother asks you to do something like that, tell her daddy said no."

He continued to discipline her, and I had to beg for her rescue.

She was just a child, and she ran back to her hut crying.

"As for you," Alhaji said as he turned to the mother, "you are leaving my house today.

You can continue your wickedness when you get to your parent's house," he said as he went inside the hut.

There was commotion everywhere as the other wives shifted away from her while she tried to explain things to them.

When they all left, she turned to me and said,

"I will make sure you regret everything you have done today."

And she snapped her fingers at me.

After snapping her fingers, the youngest wife went into Alhaji's hut while I went to my own hut, contemplating whether I should tell Alhaji what she said to me.

I was lost in my thoughts when I dozed off without even realizing it.

She barged into my hut, and I opened my eyes to see her staring at me as if she was about to do something terrible.

"What are you doing in my hut?" I asked.

She smiled, but I didn't believe her smile was genuine.

She said, "I came to apologize for what happened. Please forgive me," while placing a plate of food on my table.

" I closely examined her because I knew she would never apologize for anything, and I also looked at the food"I am not hungry", I said.

Although the food looked appealing, considering what the medicine man said and the way she had treated me since I came into the house.

I wouldn't think of eating anything that comes from her.

She carried the plate and with disappointment, she said, "Since you want us to stay as enemies, it's fine, but I will never advise anyone to become my enemy".

She stormed out of my hut.

Shortly, Alhaji came to my hut. As I had stepped out to sit outside the hut, I spotted him.

He got up and I bowed my head till he got closer and sat down.

It was the custom to acknowledge the presence of a husband because he is the head of the family.

I had to obey, although Alhaji wasn't rightly the head of the family because the youngest wife controlled everything about him.

Anything she said goes.

When he sat down, he said, "Why did you reject the food Amina's mother gave you?

She pleaded with me to give her a second chance, and I reconsidered because it was her first mistake.

I won't send her out just like that. I asked her to apologize to you, but she came back crying because you rejected her food".

By the time he was done, his mood had already changed, and his eyes had turned red.

One thing I detested about Alhaji is that he never had a moment of laughter.

He was always too serious and frowned even in the happiest moments.

"I can't buy the idea that she has changed all of a sudden.

I have forgiven her, but I can't eat her food,"I responded aggressively.

He looked at me and then said, "Is it because of what the medicine man said?

He can't tell me how to run my family.

The next time she cooks in this house, you must eat it".

I stood up from the chair for the first time and talked back at Alhaji, "Whose side are you on?

Don't forget, I'm carrying your child. If anything happens, you'll have to deal with me."

In that moment, I felt a surge of courage and strength.

I didn't know where it came from, maybe it was frustration.

He looked at me with disappointment, then left without saying a word.

I collapsed back into the chair and started crying.

I had never talked back to someone like that before, especially not someone like him.

The only comfort I had was that my leg pain had disappeared.

I went into my hut, closed the door, and felt like I had shut the door in their faces.

I kept thinking about how I had disrespected Alhaji and thanked Allah that no one was around to see such an ugly scene.

If my parents hear about it, they would be so disappointed in me.

But I felt I did the right thing by letting him know that nothing should happen to my child.

My child is a part of me, I don't want to lose the child because of anyone's carelessness.

After the incident, Alhaji avoided me like the plague.

He didn't even mention it to anyone because no one asked, not even Mama Miriam.

She visited my hut but didn't bring up anything like that.

On a Friday, when everyone had gone to the mosque, I was all alone at home because I didn't feel like going anywhere with them.

I decided to stay inside my hut and pray to Allah. After I finished praying, I took a little nap.

When I woke up, I was really hungry.

I heard voices and knew that everyone was back from the mosque.

I went to the kitchen to find something to eat, and I ran into Mama Miriam on the way.

She asked, "Why can't you just stay in your hut and ask the children to get food for you?

Don't you feel heavy inside?" I replied in a soft voice, "I'm just hungry."

She smiled and said it's normal, and told me to go to the kitchen and find the food covered with a blue bowl to eat.

I went to the kitchen and found it. Then I took the food to my room and ate.

I hadn't finished eating when I felt a slight pain in my stomach.

It quickly became stronger, and I screamed for help.

Before everyone could come, I was already bleeding.

I cried to Allah, "please don't let me lose my child".