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I was in hospital and the doctor was examining me when I woke up. The doctor, a lady, smiled at me and said, “Mrs Olalekan, you are finally awake.” I was still trying to adjust to the light and I nodded. I asked,”why am I here?”


Suddenly, her countenance changed and the events of yesterday started coming back. I held my stomach and said,”Oh my baby! How is my baby?!” Suddenly, Bola walked in with a sad look on his face and I almost spat in his face.


I  said rather angrily,”you bastard! What do you want? You’ve finally gotten what you want. If anything happens to my baby, you will REGRET it!” The doctor tried calming me down and I just relaxed, inhaling and exhaling while glaring at Bola.


The doctor said, “ma, I have news for you.” I looked at the doctor and said,”is something wrong with me or…the baby?” She patted me before saying,” you are okay but the baby…we lost the baby.”


I glared at Bola who held an indecipherable look on his face. I picked the nearest thing beside me and aimed it at him. It hit him luckily and I screamed,”get out!!!!!” He left while I cried my eyes out.

The next day, I was discharged. I refused to be in the same car with Bola. I opted for an uber. I got home before him and I noticed his sister was still around. She gave me a look and I gave her the worst glare ever. “You both…you and your brother killed my child! Happy now?!”

I spat at her. She was afraid as she ran into her room while I walked upstairs in pain, anger, sadness, frustration, confusion etc. I quickly had a shower and got dressed. I was already with my car keys and handbag when Bola walked in with his head low almost bumping into me. He asked,”where are you going to? You need to rest.”



I looked him and said, stone cold,”what do u care? The baby is dead as you wished for, besides you never cared about my actions so why care now?” He hung his head low and muttered a “sorry”. I hissed past him and walked out to my car and drove off in mad speed. I came back and still met him at home. He even made dinner. “Way to go hubby but I am stuffed.” I snickered.

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I walked past him, into the bedroom, changed into my sleeping clothes after washing my face and lay on my side of the bed. A week after the death of the baby, I changed. I became more distant and hostile that Sade had to leave the house. Bola and I grew apart.

I actually felt bad for him but if he had treated me better during my pregnancy and not ignore my existence, we will not be here. Bola’s mom visited after like a month after our ordeal. I was trying to be the ideal wife for her son by cooking different kinds of meals whenever she wanted it, serving her and making her feel comfortable. Because of her, I had to halt a lot of projects I was working on at my fashion centre.


She kept annoying me and asking silly questions, taunting me, calling me lots of name and I just swallowed it in till the day she hit a nerve. She asked, harshly, “are you not going to give me grandchildren? Or is it when I die I will see them ehn? Abi, you are eating up all the children in your womb?”



I dropped the plates I was packing loudly and faced her,”because I have been quiet doesn’t mean I am stupid! You should ask your son why I lost my first pregnancy. Ask him if he ever wants a child and stop..STOP…blaming me!!!



Your son is to blame for the loss of our first child!!! Sade is a witness, if she will tell the truth!!! Don’t ever blame me for our childlessness, okay!!!” I picked the plates and left her in awe. What rubbish

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