1. YOUR BABY
The night Ivie told me she was pregnant, I woke up suddenly at one-forty five in the morning soaked in sweat with a tightness in my chest, gasping for air. I gripped the bed frame and took long, whistling breaths just to steady myself, fearing that I would black out and die. Beside me, Ivie snored on, hugging her pillow. Not even the cough that was now wrecking my chest stirred her up. But then she could sleep through anything - phone alarms, heavy rains, the neighbors' midnight prayers, all kinds of terrible news. I often teased her about it but this was no time for that. I fumbled my way to the fridge and sucked two pure-waters and wiped my sweaty face on the curtain till the coughing died down and my chest cleared up. I got back into bed but I was too shaken to go back to sleep, worried that the attack would happen again. So I stared up at the white ceiling thinking about how things had gone. We had not been together that long, four months and we had always been safe. I had switched to Durex ever since Osas made that joke about them being tougher and tighter than skinny jeans. And Ivie always peed and cleaned up right after. A few times, I watched awkwardly as she swallowed AmpiClox and Postinor and tightened her lips to keep them down. We liked being together, we were careful about being together. But now, I wondered if she had been sleeping with other guys as well. Deep down, I knew she wasn't but that's how the mind works, its first instinct is self-preservation, pointing the finger at someone else. What else could explain Ivie’s accusatory tone when she told me about the pregnancy?

#
We had just come home from the Chicken Republic at Uwasota, where we often met after work. She barely pressed into me when we hugged and was less than polite to the attendant when our chicken and chips took too long and though I thought she was overreacting, I still did the supportive boyfriend thing and yelled at the attendant too. On the drive down to my flat, she was quiet and just looked out through her window. Maybe she had a bad day at the secretariat where she was doing her NYSC. She got like that when something was wrong and I was already agonizing over how long it would take before she said what it was but as soon as she unlocked the burlary-proof of the flat, she just turned to me and said it.
‘I’m pregnant,’ her head bent to the side, ‘with your baby.’
‘Have you done a test?’ I asked, trying not to stammer, trying to sound calm.
She nodded and went into the house.
I stood there for a while, roasted chicken scent rising from the polythene bags in my hand but whatever hunger, whatever appetite I had was already gone.
‘Okay, what do we do?’ I asked, locking the door behind me.
‘Abeg, let’s talk about it tomorrow. My mind is not really booting right now.’ She said, already crawling into bed. I wanted to insist on having the conversation right then but I had the uneasy feeling that she was struggling with the weight of it all more than I could understand so I let it be. I sat at the edge of the bed and she turned her back to me. I was too stunned to think of anything, my heart pounding away like a pestle. The food got cold while I worried myself to sleep and then my chest went tight.


#
Your baby. Why did she have to say it like that? For one thing, we had never talked about getting married. I wasn't even sure how we truly felt about each other. I was twenty-five at the time, two years older than her but not in any way ready for this. Omo, just thinking about it made my head hurt. I tossed over and over, careful not to bump into her space on the mattress. I never imagined that stuff like this could happen to me. It’s only supposed to happen in films or at least, to other people. I remember my mother used to tell us haunting stories about Eseosa, her beautiful friend back then in Auchi Poly, whose life was completely shattered just because she had a child out of wedlock. I’m sure mum spiced the stories more than necessary to scare my sisters and me, and sometimes we would roll our eyes, but we got the point: Premarital sex will only lead to infections and unwanted pregnancies and abortions. And now here I was, dealing with the second and almost certain that the third would follow.

What's up guys? I intend to update this at least three times a week. Thoughts and comments are very welcome. Thank you.

Wow i love your style of writing. Second abortion or child??

#

JustCruise:
Wow i love your style of writing. Second abortion or child??

Thanks. I think he is referring to the pregnancy and that there might be a need to get rid of it.

ChiwyN

Thanks. I think he is referring to the pregnancy and that there might be a need to get rid of it.


Okay thanks for clarifying that. Waiting for new update.

2. BRAVE ENOUGH
By the time morning light spilled in through the window, I was weak from insomnia. I went to the kitchen to boil water for a bath and then ate the take-away from last night. The chips were alright but the chicken tasted bad already, like I was chewing old, dead skin. Ivie rolled awake. Most times when she stayed over, she would freshen up and throw on one of the dresses she had lining my wardrobe and I would drop her at the Secretariat behind St Patrick’s before speeding off to beat Ring Road Traffic on my way to work.

'Ejiro, good morning,' she said in a broken, sleepy voice.

'Good morning.' Before I could say anything else, she bent her head and slouched her shoulders to pray. As usual, not out loud, just soft and low sounds that barely escaped her mouth, ten to fifteen minutes of her whispering to herself. I settled into a chair waiting for her to finish but the kettle hissed and I had to go to it. Bathing was hard work, all my joints felt cemented but the hot water was somewhat soothing. And as I toweled water out of my eyes, I heard the door to the flat open and close, and I knew Ivie was gone. See wahala. I felt this rush to charge after her and tell her to stop acting so childish. We just needed to talk about the pregnancy but clearly, she didn't want to. What I couldn't understand was why. What was I missing?


#


I sat in my car, warming up the engine and in those few minutes, I felt angry and afraid. I was overcome by the urge to talk to someone. I called up Osas and he didn’t pick up. We weren’t tight friends, Osas and me, but we were close enough, plus a guy like him would know what to do. Sure, he would first say something painfully funny about me giving a girl belle but he would know what to do. He understood things and people quite well. He ran a laptop repair shop in Uniben with his brother where we met two years ago and struck up a friendship over our mutual dislike for Barcelona and Man U. He wasn’t much older than me but with his balding scalp and bearded jaw, he had that hard, cutting frankness of long time hustlers. My others guys wouldn’t be much help. Jude would be just as clueless as me and Maro still owed me money and I got the feeling he was avoiding me. Maybe I should have prayed but it had been so long for me. The last time I prayed was also the first time I had a panic attack. I was seventeen and I was watching my dad die from a stroke. He was forty-two. My mum, sisters and I stood by his bedside in the hospital, holding hands, praying that he would make it and I had never been so desperate for a miracle as I was that night but the moment came and he drew his last breath. My knees melted and my chest caved in. Honestly, the untimely death of a loved one will change you. It certainly changed me. It’s not like I stopped believing in God, it’s just that every time I tried to pray, that memory grew sharp in my mind. The helplessness, the silence, the grief.
So I sat there in my car, the engine humming like a machine in pain. My options: I could go to work, move on with my life and let Ivie make all the decisions about the pregnancy or I could go find her and let her know my thoughts (if I could form them well enough) and still let her decide. Either way, it would be her choice. But I should at least have a say in the whole matter, so I eased the car out of the compound and drove to her house.


#


I knocked and knocked but she didn’t come to the door. She was in there, that much I knew because when I called her phone, I heard the Tecno ringtone through the window. I went on knocking. This was a battle of stubbornness and somebody had to lose. Lucky for me, she did and the door creaked open. Inside, the room was cool and smelled just like her, that perfect scent of cocoa butter. She had changed into joggers and an oversized t-shirt that showed a bra strap. Obviously, she had no plans of going to work today. She sat on the bed and I stood awkwardly at the centre of the room, right under the spinning fan. Neither of us spoke for a while. Another small battle.

‘What’s wrong with you? Why did you tell me about the pregnancy if you weren’t willing to discuss it?’ I spat the words, spite getting the better of me.

‘Because I know what you will say,’ she snapped back.

‘And so?’

‘And I’m afraid that if I let you say it, I will agree with you.’

‘I.V, see ehn,’ I said, searching for the best words, ‘we don’t know each other that well…’

She cut me off. ‘Just forget that thing, Ejiro. I’m keeping the baby. I’ve played all the scenarios in my head. Whatever you say, I’m keeping it.’

‘I.V, calm down. You haven’t thought this through.’

‘And you have?’ She narrowed her eyes at me. ‘Ejiro, I’m just as confused as you are. I don’t even know how I will face my parents or how much this will change my life. But I can’t have an abortion. I just can’t. I am not brave enough for that. I wish I was but I’m not. That’s just the truth. If you don’t want to deal with this, it will pain me o but I won’t force you. You can leave as long as you don’t ever deny that you’re the father. Somehow, somehow, I go manage.’

She cried as she spoke, tears dripping past her lashes over sharp cheekbones to the point of her chin. She wasn’t even looking at me but I heard the resolve in her voice and knew she meant every word. As I stood there in front of her, I became fully aware of the tiny space between us and that I had a choice to close it or burst it wide open forever. I pulled her up and hugged her tight, her tears and catarrh soaking my shirt collar.

‘Na wa o,’ I said with a nervous chuckle. ‘Your parents will kill me.’

Wow Chiwy N,you too much bros. Thanks for the update but the Oliver Twist in me wants some more.