Chương 9: CHAPTER 9
It was with great shock, which, in no time, snowballed into stifling anger, that Ugomma listened from behind the kitchen door as her mother narrated to her father the outcome of the meeting with the parish priest.
"How could she? She fumed. How could Nwamaka attempt to snatch her own Ephraim from her? To imagine she regarded her all these while as a friend, how could Nwamaka be this wicked and callous? So, her friend was a jealous two-faced timing bitch who had managed to conceal her jealousy all these times while plotting to stab her at the back? Human beings are indeed wicked." Her anger raged. She must see Ephraim at once, she decided.
"And I must see Nwamaka immediately too and warn her," she muttered. "If she thinks she can snatch Ephraim from me with that stupid pregnancy, then she must be joking. She should go and look for who got her pregnant, not my Ephraim."
She picked up a water container and informed her parents she was going to fetch some water as she was accustomed to doing on Saturday mornings. In her befuddling rage, she had missed the part of her mother's narrative that dealt with Ephraim's disappearance. She hoped to dash to his shop first to inform him of the vile plot by Nwamaka and her mother to hang Nwamaka's pregnancy on him. To be forewarned is to be forearmed. She must not allow such an evil plot to succeed and derail her plans of marrying Ephraim. Certainly not when she already suspected she might be carrying his baby. She had informed him earlier that she had not seen her monthly cycle for over two months running. He allayed her fears and encouraged her not to worry; it could be only a delayed arrival.
"Even if it is pregnancy, are you not my wife?" he had teased.
That reassured and gladdened her heart, but that was almost three weeks earlier. She was now almost convinced she was pregnant and had decided to raise the topic again with him so his parents could come for the marriage rites. She was fully aware of the dust that scenario would raise. Her parents would go mad at her, she knew. Her dear father, most especially, would be most disappointed; the thought pained her a lot. But a proper wedding before the community realized she was pregnant would help assuage their anguish. She hoped to also convince them that she would continue her education after giving birth. That was not unheard of; she consoled herself. In any case, she believed she could get Ephraim to do that for her; didn't he always tell her he would do anything for her? That was his singsong, after all. But in the meantime, Nwamaka and her parents were about to ruin her life by accusing Ephraim?
"God forbid," she spat.
She hurried down the road to Nwamaka's house, her usually soft and swingy behind, now stiff and jutting out behind the silky chiffon gown Ephraim made for her last Christmas. The water container in her hand was swinging angrily from left to right as these thoughts intensified her anger and quickened her steps.
Nwamaka was alone in the house when she arrived. Her mother left earlier for the market to procure some local spices and herbs with which special soup was prepared for pregnant women. Madam Eunice was already past the shock and anger of her daughter's misdeed, and motherly instinct had kicked in. She was determined to take good care of her daughter and her unborn child. Mazi Egbelu, on the other hand, left the house almost immediately they got back from the parish house in the quest for some consultations. The turnout of events needed tact and discipline to handle, he reasoned. He must therefore ruminate with one or two of his trusted friends.
Nwamaka welcomed Ugomma with mixed feelings. Had she heard the news from her mother and come to mock her? Had she come to sympathize with her and lend her support? Oh well, she cared no more. Like she used to hear her people say, 'a woman who had given birth at the market square has got nothing to hide anymore'. And as she had grown to learn, every action has consequences. She had defecated on her way while embarking on a journey; now, she must be prepared to meet with flies on her way back. She felt strong and bold, prepared to absorb the taunting of Umunze, including from her friend, Ugomma.
However, Ugomma's expression was strange. The mocking gloat or compassionate mien she envisaged was missing. She looked angry, very angry. Her eyes were red and flickered in rapid blinks; she recognized those - Ugomma's eyes blink in quick succession when agitated. Nwamaka hastened towards her, temporarily forgetting her own ordeal in apparent concern for her friend.
"Ugo, o gini? Hope you are okay?"
"How can I be okay?" Ugomma shot back forcefully in a belligerent tone that froze her friend right in her tracks. "How can I be okay, Nwamaka?" She continued. "How could you do this, and I call you my friend?"
Nwamaka was momentarily confused but, nonetheless, felt reassured. She assumed Ugomma was overly concerned that she, Nwamaka, fell into this predicament. And she equally must be that angry that her friend, Nwamaka, kept such a development away from her. Surely, she was upset she got to hear the news from her mother instead of directly from her friend. That must have been awkward for her; Nwamaka imagined and quickly proceeded to offer her friend some explanations.
"But Ugo, I did not even know about it myself until two days ago when my mother noticed it and told me. I would've told you if I knew. Are you not my friend again?"
"Who is your friend?" Ugomma continued in her warring tone. "Do friends betray one another? You call yourself my friend, yet you plan to snatch my husband from me. So you are jealous of me, Nwamaka? And you are here calling yourself my friend; friend my foot".
Nwamaka was now lost. She could neither make head nor tail of what Ugomma was ranting about. Momentarily, anger swelled inside of her. Was this the pattern of mockery her friend had decided to use on her? Sarcasm, she would bear from others but not her own friend, Ugomma. But somehow, she found the strength to steel her emotion and retained some calmness.
"Ugomma, I don't have the strength for this drama. I thought you came here to sympathize with me; why are you trying to add to my burden? By the way, who is this husband I am planning to snatch from you? You have never told me you have a boyfriend before, not to mention getting married."
That instantly had an effect on Ugomma. She felt quiet, apparently in a sudden wave of recollection. Her affair with Ephraim had been kept under wraps, top-secret on his behest. He had warned that no other living soul must know about the two of them. That is, until he had informed his parents, and they came to make their intentions officially known to her parents with the customary presentation of wine and kola nuts, he had added when he saw the quizzical expression on her face. She had adhered to this instruction. Therefore, Nwamaka was supposed to be totally in the dark about the relationship.
"But… But…, Ephraim," she stammered. "He promised to marry me, and I think I am already pregnant for him."
"Whaaaaaat?" Nwamaka was beside herself with shock. She staggered, the dizziness again plus that nauseating intestinal revolt. She forcefully sat down, tired of vomiting. She was determined to resist the urge this time around. Ugomma, now slightly subdued, went and sat beside her on the vacant space on the bench Nwamaka had collapsed on.
"Ugomma, what is happening? What did you just say?" Nwamaka managed to ask after regaining some strength. Ugomma narrated her journey with Ephraim. Nwamaka did hers, too, which was almost a replica, and to Ugomma's astonishment.
"He played us both and swore us to secrecy so we won't find out about each other?" Ugomma asked exasperatedly to no one in particular. "And I don't want to think he may have run away," she continued. "Mbanu, Chukwu aju! Do you know what that means? He must marry me o! I would rather die than face such shame in this village. No, it cannot happen" she shivered.
"Ugomma, even if he is around now, will he marry the two of us? Remember I became pregnant before you, and he promised to marry me, too."
That line of argument seemed to have struck a chord in Ugomma. She was quiet for some time, obviously dissecting the situation. Suddenly, she stood up, very agitated again.
"No, he must come back o, he must marry me. I cannot bear it; I would rather die. He must o!" She picked up her water can and stormed off angrily in the direction of Ephraim's shop at the community center where the market was located. Tired, sapped of energy and strength for more words, Nwamaka watched in resignation as the back of her angry friend disappeared round the corner.
"Ephraim," she said aloud. "How could you be so wicked?"
She was no longer under any illusion about her predicament. "I'm finished," she muttered. What a fool she was for believing his words. Getting a girl pregnant out of wedlock was abominable enough in the land, but doing that to two friends and at the same time was indeed unheard of taboo that would reverberate far and near. Add this to the unpleasant fact that the perpetrator was the son of the catechist of the community church and the 'victims' - prominent members of the choir. Just then, the magnitude of the abomination that had just taken place crystallized. Life drained out of Nwamaka as she pondered on this sad development, a development which was now exacerbated by the diminishing possibility of marrying Ephraim – with Ugomma now in the equation - an outcome that could have helped to mitigate her family's shame. Polygamy was incomprehensible in the Church, and certainly, it was inconceivable that the household of the catechist would contemplate falling into that aberration. She could now see why he chose to run; she was overwhelmed herself.
"Maybe I should run away, too, but where?" she asked aloud. "God, please forgive me. I cannot bear this".
Ephraim's shop was under lock when Ugomma arrived. She was yet to come to terms that Ephraim could abscond, leaving her behind. All these must be some evil farce she would clear up when she saw him. A burst of courage swept through her, and she headed to his house without hesitation. The catechist and his wife were seated on the veranda of their house and obviously in deep conversation when she arrived. Their faces betrayed no emotions; maybe she was right, and all these were some vile lies against her man. She did well to mask her anxiety and forced herself to wear a calm expression while enquiring about Ephraim.
"He is making a dress for me that I am supposed to pick today. But I went to his shop and met it locked," she explained.
Mr. Andrew told her that Ephraim had journeyed to his maternal home for an urgent and important matter but would be back in no time. He added that she should please bear with him and check back the following day. She left with great foreboding. What emergency could that be? She wondered. It gave her hope nonetheless. It is better to believe his parents than Nwamaka.
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