INURED;
Harden, habituate, accustom.
Some days later, my father requested my presence one evening in his throne room. He implored me to go live with his eldest sister Ugochi Ifechiluru who has been living alone ever since her husband died.
She, my father's eldest sister was seventy years old and feeble. Her children were all grown, married, and
lived in different towns. They only visited her during the festive season and as such could not heed to her infirm health.
Her sickly health was not compatible with her
loneliness and so my father believed my staying with her will do good to her and as much as to myself.
I did not need my father to eulogize her for me to be fully convinced, she was already lauded in her community for her good nature. I made up my mind instantly on my father's request as I was already praying for redemption from my stepmother's fiendish methods of torture.
I left my father's house to his sister's house
with high expectations, and thanks to the heavens I was not disappointed.
Auntie Ugochi did not just take very good care of me, she treated me with so much love as if she had birthed me. Something no woman not even my stepmothers have done before.
It was not too long and I grew fond of her and started seeing her as the mother I never knew. I cared for her and always prayed to heaven that she would get better.
Weeks spent with her and I noticed her health was getting even worse, what seemed like a controllable diabetes and high blood pressure soon became unfavorable.
One morning I woke up to her not being able to
help herself down from her bed.
Wait what?.... Yes! Exactly.
She had a stroke.
This hit me hard, very hard!
How was I going to get through with this new onset?
How was I going to take care of a seventy-year-old feeble woman all by myself? So many thoughts crowded my mind. I felt like running away. But then I knew was not going to be what I condemned my step-mothers of.
I was not going to return this woman's kindliness to me with impiety. She needed me now more than ever, so I stayed back.
Not so many people from the family knew how bad
her health was, not her children or my father was aware of this. There was no easy means of communication for me neither was it realizable for me to leave all by herself to go seek help from the neighbors.
The few neighborhoods who at long last visited only gave me a word of encouragement while some counseled me to return to my father's house and allow her children to come to take care of her.
I welcomed the idea of informing her children but not the latter, and decided I was not going to inform my father yet as he would ask me to return home but
then my mind was already made up.
Each day had nothing promising to offer and her condition kept on deteriorating.
It seemed as though my prayers were not reaching the heavens. I did everything for her from bathing her, feeding her, and cleaning up her excrement as though I was dealing with a helpless newly born baby.
This was not an experience anyone should go through not even my worst enemy. What I felt was a redemption turned out to be another torment. I muttered with a wounded heart.
I found myself in a state of betweenity of either informing her children and just returning home to my stepmother's cruelty, or accepting my fate and staying with her. Either of the two options still involved torture hence I stayed.
I was able to manage her health with the help of the local traditional herbs the neighbors brought and it felt as though she was recovering till something happened.
One evening, I noticed she demanded more
attention, which was quite unusual of her.
She did not want me to leave her side, one minute she was tasty and the next minute she was feeling either hot or cold. Most of the minutes she wanted me to recite certain local songs she taught me.
This sudden unusual act of hers got me a bit uncomfortable, but I managed to put myself together and kept calm.
One evening after so much distress with her routine wants, I succeeded in getting her to sleep while I lay on the floor close to her bed. The night was a smooth one, she did not wake me up in the middle of the night for her usual needs. I woke up twice to check on her and saw she was deeply asleep.
This too was another unfamiliar act of hers but I was so tired and did not wish to wake her up, rather left her to sleep all night long. I was so young and naive that I did not think for a second that something could be wrong with her unbroken sleep.
I woke the next morning and left the room immediately to prepare breakfast, and also get her bathing water ready. I returned to the room a few minutes later with a black bucket of lukewarm water and a towel to clean her up. I tried waking her up so she could bathe, but she was not responding.
I tapped her again and this time around calling her full name, Aunty Ugochi Ifechulie! But there was still no response from her. I was not ready to listen to whatever thoughts were running through my mind as I jiggled her still calling her name, it was still total silence from her.
It was then I realized she was gone, it was my biggest bombshell.
The old woman gave up. I slept in the same room with a dead woman all through the night? Heavens!!
I immediately felt sick in my stomach and rushed out to vomit. Fear took captive of me, I started to shudder, I didn't know exactly what to do, was I to cry out for help or run?
I ran out to the neighbor's house and alerted
them of what has happened, they all followed
me back to see the dead body for themselves.
I was devastated and traumatized, the neighbors took me back to their house and proceeded to inform my relatives of what happened. In two shakes the news of my aunt's death soon spread all over the village, to her children and my father's ears.