Bab 8: CHAPTER 8
The Catechist and the Egbelus were all tensed throughout the duration of the Mass. Following the motions, their minds were predominantly occupied with the whereabouts and safety of their respective wards. With haste, they filed into the parish office to answer the priest's summons at the end of the Mass.
"Good morning, children of God," Fr. Jude greeted.
"Good morning, Father," they chorused.
"Now, Mazi. Egbelu, what is happening in your household?"
He was relaxed, almost amiable, and comforting. It had a calming effect on Mazi Egbelu, which made him relax a bit, too. The foreboding gloom that tended to have engulfed him for the past two days dissipated a little.
"Father, my enemies are after me. The evil one, Lucifer, is after my household…..". He stopped short, uncertain of how to continue.
"It is alright, brother," the priest said reassuringly. "Do not forget that our good Lord does not abandon His own. He does not turn His back on those that serve Him and will not allow temptation that will consume His children to befall them. Keep your faith and trust in Him, and all will be well".
The Catechist shifted uneasily in his chair; madam Theresa scowled. They were not amused by how this was going. The tone of the parish priest was very lenient, almost conciliatory. They expected him to thunder down on the Egbelus with fire and brimstone, not these placating words.
".... It was while she was confronting her that she ran away. I have not seen my daughter since then, Father".
The Catechist and Madam Theresa had been engrossed in their thoughts they had not paid attention as Mazi Egbelu narrated his ordeal and Nwamaka's disappearance to the Priest.
Suddenly, Fr. Jude called out loud, "Meshach!" and from the direction of his sitting-room came the answer of Meshach, his house help.
"Yes, Father"
"Bring her here," he instructed.
Shortly, Nwamaka walked in. Head bowed, palms clasped together by her abdomen and vigorously rubbing together in nervous fidgety, tears rolled down from her tightly squeezed and swollen eyes. Obviously, she had been crying.
Mazi and his wife shot up like thunderbolts, Mrs. Eunice rushing over to gather her daughter in her arms. The joy of seeing her daughter again, alive and well, temporarily overshadowed whatever crime she may have committed. The husband collapsed back in his chair, letting out a huge sigh of relief. Raising his face and two palms up in supplication, he muttered, "Thank you, Jesus," and turned to the priest with a quizzical 'How come' expression on his face.
"She came here on the night of that day she ran away," Fr. Jude offered
The Catechist's mind raced. So, Father Jude knew about this all along? So, the girl was here yesterday when they were reporting to him? And he kept quiet; why did he do that? Was the parish priest beginning to condone evil?
"Nwamaka," the priest continued. Why have you decided to disobey God and bring shame to your family and the Church?"
"I'm sorry, Father," she burst out in a wail. "Papa, I am sorry," she sobbed as her mother tried in vain to console her.
"Stop crying, my child," the priest answered. "The deed has been done, and our good Lord has heard your cries; He has forgiven you. Now, who do you say is responsible for this?"
"Ephraim," She mutterred, almost in a whisper.
"Which Ephraim?" Fr. Jude and Mazi Egbelu almost asked in unison. "And speak louder, please," the priest added.
"Ephraim, the catechist's son."
"What?" shouted Eunice, anger swelling up in her.
"Impossible!" muttered the catechist, but in a somewhat less emphatic tone. His mind was in turmoil. His son had been missing from home since yesterday, and now came this awful news. Were they connected? He wondered. Was this the reason he did not come home last night? Had the worst finally happened? Had his own son finally delivered him into the hand of his enemies?
"Let this not be true, oh God," he prayed silently.
Mazi Ebgelu sat motionless, trying hard to decipher the implication of this new development. Would this harbor good or bad tidings? He asked himself. The thought of having Mr. Andrew as an in-law was a difficult one.
Madam Theresa was very subdued. Her unease and confusion were evident. Certainly, this was not what they bargained for. The trap she set for a fair game had caught the inedible shrew, she reasoned. How would she now push for severe punishment for Eunice if the catechist's son was responsible? What an annoying twist, she fumed.
"Catechist, you heard her," Fr. Jude said, bringing everybody back from their wandering minds.
"But Father, that cannot be true." The Catechist seemed to have now regained his voice and composure. "She must be lying; Ephraim can do no such thing, Father. This is a plan to tarnish my image, the handiwork of my enemies. You cannot believe them, Father".
"Can you send for him, please?" Fr. Jude responded. "We need to hear from him then. Meshach will go and fetch him". He called out to Meshach, who appeared immediately. Apparently, he had hung around in anticipation of further summons.
"Sorry, Father, but he is not around at the moment," Mr. Andrew quickly interjected before the priest could dispatch Meshach for the assignment.
There was a mixed reaction from all. Father Jude was surprised, while Mazi Egbelu became suspicious and apprehensive. Madam Eunice was now visibly angry.
Nwamaka stared at the catechist in shock and apprehension. She was with Ephraim two days ago. She had run straight to his shop after her mother confronted her to inform him about the development. What a shocking encounter that was, she shuddered.
Ephraim had started by begging her not to mention his name in connection with her pregnancy. Then he sought to impress it upon her to believe that the catechist would cut off his head if he got to be in the know of the whole mess.
"Mess, how?" she has shouted at him. "How is this mess? Didn't you tell me you already discussed with your father about marrying me and that he agreed? Was that not why I gave in to your pressure and gave you my virginity? What is the difference now? Is it not to quickly come and pay my bride price before my stomach comes out?"
"You will not understand…., you will not understand….." he kept repeating like a cracked gramophone. Then he gave her the shocker;
"In short, Nwamaka, I did not touch you; I did not impregnate you. Please, do not mention my name again. If they sent you people after me, please go and tell them you did not see me. O gini di? How many will I marry?"
She was utterly discombobulated.
Time practically stood still, and she felt unusually calm. Maybe he had not spoken; maybe she was in a dream. She found herself soliloquizing and cross-examining herself. "He did not mean what he just said, did he? After all, he loved her so much and was going to marry her; had she forgotten? Was this not why she gave her body to him in the first place? How could she now believe what she had just heard? Funny Ephraim, he was probably pulling her legs, testing her love and trust in him. Silly her to have fallen for it," she concluded.
But Ephraim was not bulging. "Look, Nwamaka, I am serious. Do you want to bring anarchy on me? Have you forgotten who my father is? You want him to kill me? Please, look for another man to give this your pregnancy, not me."
Then the scale fell, and it became clear to her that Ephraim had no plans of taking responsibility for her pregnancy. She reeled, staggered backward, and then lunged at him with the ferocity of a wild cat. She held tight to his collar, shouting, crying, cursing, and pleading simultaneously. He extricated himself from her grip and dashed out of the shop.
She stood motionless, drained. She wished the earth would open up and swallow her that instant. Then her stomach lurched, and nausea swept over her. She experienced a strong urge to vomit, and as she ran in blind pursuit along the direction he had taken, she splattered the contents of her intestines on her body and in all directions.
She could not bear to go home to face her parents with the new development. Ephraim's denial and rejection had changed everything; that was akin to a death sentence for her. She thought of going straight to his house to inform his parents and plead with them, but that would be unheard of. If anything, her parents were in the best position to do that. Moreover, she remembered Ephraim's trepidation at his father discovering the pregnancy. Going herself to inform the catechist might anger Ephraim the more and worsen the situation. She was utterly confused, defeated, and giving up on life itself when she remembered Father Jude. The parish priest was a very nice person, his avuncular disposition making him accessible and endearing him to the youth. She reasoned that the priest was in the best position to talk to the catechist and his son on her behalf and help attract her parent's forgiveness. She realized it was a difficult proposition; she had committed a grave sin. The shame of it all would be unimaginable, but what other choice did she have? She determined to brave it head-on and suffer the consequences. That was how she ended up at the parish house that night and insisted not to return home unless the priest intervened.
"Where did he go to?" Father Jude asked the Catechist. "And when will he return?"
He was greeted with silence from Mr. Andrew.
All eyes were now trained on the catechist. Even Madam Theresa was taken aback. Was the catechist in the know of something and deemed it unfit to inform her?
"Catechist?" Fr Jude gently prodded.
"I am sorry, Father," he finally responded. "He left yesterday for his shop as usual but has not returned until now, at least not until I left the house early this morning".
There was visible air of exasperation from all corners. Nwamaka, who had quietened in the meantime, resumed sobbing. Shaking his head in dismay, Father Jude turned enquiringly to Mazi Egbelu.
"The witch cried in the night, and the baby was found dead in the morning," Mazi Egbelu muttered.
"Well, Mr. Andrew," the priest continued. "We shall give Ephraim the benefit of the doubt and wait until we hear from him. Please, inform him as soon as possible that we need his presence here to give his side of the matter".
He nodded, and Father Jude continued.
"Mr. Egbelu, your daughter is very sorry. She deeply regrets and has repented for what she has done. You will go with her now, and please make sure you take good care of her and avoid piling more pressure on her. Please, be mindful of her condition at the moment. Our Lord Jesus Christ has forgiven her, and we must do the same, too."
Rising up in a gesture of formal dismissal, he intoned, "Brothers and sisters, let us go in the peace of the Lord (performing the sign of the cross), in the name of the Father, the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."
They all chorused "Amen" and dispersed.
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