Abigail stared at me right in the face, as I narrated all that has been happening to me.
She is my immediate younger Sister, who is a stunt feminist and very independent.
“Sis, Why did you tell him that you will be patient? you should have granted the divorce and become free.” Abigail clucked and sighed loudly.
“I am people’s mentor and role model. A lot of young women in the church look up to me. I have to live a life worth emulating. what will people say if I get divorce and still stand on the church podium to preach marriage and love?” I asked looking at her like I demanded a pity.
“This is what you women always say. last week in Ibadan, a lady called Modupe was brutally beaten by her husband, she died.” Her voice got a bit emotional as she continued.
“she didn’t tell anyone of what she was going through. She thought things were going to change. she thought that one day Jesus was gonna come down and rescue her, or stop her husband from beating her. ”
“David has never beaten me.” I cut in.
“what difference does it make? it’s same story. Instead of filing for a divorce you think he is going to leave that girl and come back to you, while he is still under the manipulations of that witch called his mother! give me one reason why you think things will change positively?”
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“because I have a God who is bigger than all my problems. He will sort this out. I don’t know how he is gonna do it, but he will.”
“For how long? Don’t forget that you are my only sister. Since mama and papa died, I haven’t recovered. please walk away sis. I don’t want to lose you.”
For just a moment, I saw such an unfettered emotions in my sister’s eyes, she was almost at the verge of tears and then immediately gets back to herself when she heard the kids scream her name.
“Aunty Abigail!” The both of them jumped on her like puppies as she pegged them on their foreheads excitedly.
“Aunty Abigail, mommy and daddy are fighting.” Mfon said shrilly.
“Daddy has a new mummy. and Grandma said we are adopted children.” Teye said Innocently.
Perhaps it was then that I began to feel submerged in hazy nostalgia. A feeling that never left me.
“Aunty Abigail, what is adoption?”
“Adoption means to be given birth to my darling. ” Abigail replied in a shaky tone. Her countenance changed as she cuddled the kids gradually.
Moments later, David stormed the house with few of the choir boys and young pastors in church, none of them greeted my sister nor I.
We watched them remove boxes and shoes from the bedroom, while David held Ifeoma’s luggage in his arms like a baby.
My chest grew tight with trepidation.
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To be continue