Song: Ye — Burnaboy

**Unedited** (Never have I ever is the best series on Netflix right now)

I went inside the house. The stools the visitors were sitting on just moments ago were arranged in a semi-circle across the sofa my parents were sitting on.

They were so deep in thought that they didn't notice me come in. Well, until I accidentally bumped a flower vase to the floor, shattering it to a million pieces.

They looked up, startled from their quiet reverie to see the daughter they were so disappointed in.

As if it was something that was planned, they both held my gaze. I couldn't tear my eyes away even if I wanted to. I felt like doing that would in some way be admitting to all the horrid things they thought of me.

Staring back at them too wasn't an easy task. It was like they weren't just looking at me but also staring into my soul, begging for the answers I wouldn't provide to them, wondering why the daughter they had invested so much time and effort into raising had turned out this way.

Immoral and with a lack of respect for her own body and for the feelings of her parents.

"Where did you go?" Dada asked, breaking the tense silence. Not that she had succeeded in destroying the tension too.

"The landlord's children took her out," fofo replied for me.

"I thought we agreed that she wouldn't be able to go out without her brothers," dada said. She was looking at me as if addressing me — with disappointment in her eyes — but she was talking to fofo.

"The landlord asked. Did you expect me to refuse?" He, on the other hand, completely refused to look at me. His eyes were trained on the floor.

If I had to face either my parents anger or their disappointment, I would choose their anger a hundred times over.

My mother's eyes burned into my soul and my father's indifference crushed my heart. It was better when they were screaming at me or even hitting me, because I could direct my anger at them. But when the room was completely silent with them acting as if I was someone they didn't know, it was just pure torture.

"I'm going to get started on dinner," dada said, rising to her feet.

"You're not going to tell me what you conversed about?" I asked.

They both looked at me with questioning eyes.

"What are you talking about?" Fofo asked.

"The people who just left. The visitors, what did you converse with them about?" I clarified.

"It doesn't concern you," dada told me with a frown. "If you're done wasting my time, I'm going to start making dinner."

Fofo stood up, perhaps in order to follow her to the kitchen where they could discuss my future if the only man who asked for my hand was really Mr. Offei.

"Prince Michael asked for my hand," I blurted before I could stop myself.

They both paused. Dada turned around, her face impassive. "Don't joke about things like that Elorm. It's not funny."

"I'm not joking. Prince Michael asked for my hand. I didn't tell you because I don't want to marry him just yet," I told them.

She scowled. "Elorm, you should know that when men tell you beautiful things just to sleep with you, they don't mean it."

"I haven't slept with him!" I yelled. "I haven't slept with anyone in my life! I'm as virgin as I was when I was born."

Dada rolled her eyes. "Save your tantrums for another day. We haven't eaten since morning because we were busily trying to find you a suitor!"

"I'm telling you that you mustn't search for one! Why won't you listen to me? Michael loves me!"

"He loves you," fofo chuckled. "Now that he has gotten what he wanted, you'll see whether he still 'loves' you."

"The only thing we've done is kiss," I said.

It was a bit embarrassing admitting to my parents that I'd kissed a boy. It shouldn't have been though. For Pete's sake, I was going to be an adult in a few days.

Dada glared at me. "We don't want to know the details of the things you do with these village boys. I hope you know that it's your own life you're destroying. Yours and no one else's."

"The whole village and even the surrounding ones know of you. They know the kind of indecent life you've been living. After raising you for eighteen long years, this is how you reward us. By remaining a burden in this house," fofo said. His voice had risen an octave.

It was good because I preferred talking to them when they were angry and screaming. It gave me courage.

"If you want, I will leave. Michael will take me to the city," I told them. "We can get married there if you detest me so much."

The words fell easily from my lips, but my heart was heavy with pain. They were my only parents. I had no one else I could call family besides my devil brothers.

"I'm telling you that everything he told you was just to get you in bed! Why won't you listen?" Dada said. She too was getting angry.

"Why won't you listen? I haven't slept with him or anyone else! And he loves me. He hasn't asked for anything in return, only that I love him back! He doesn't even want to sleep with me until we get married!"

"The prince is from a very rich and powerful family Elorm," dada said. Her voice was slowly dropping to that of a wise elderly person giving advice. "He has been all around the world. He has seen women of unimaginable beauty. Why would he come back to this lowly place to choose a wife? And you, amongst all women?"

I shook my head and chuckled slightly. "I ask myself that all the time. Love isn't just about beauty. Michael loves me just because I am me. Those other women can't compete with that."

"He loves a harlot because she's a harlot," fofo mocked. "You're stupid, just that you don't have anyone to tell you. My goodness, I gave birth to a fool. What have I done?"

I shook my head, blinking continuously so that the tears wouldn't fall down.

"You are too gullible for your own good. I can't blame you though," fofo continued, "I can only blame myself for allowing you to spend so many hours behind that television screen. You've watched so many movies that your way of thinking has completely changed. You believe all the fairy tales, all those non-realistic stories you've been seeing."

"You must wake up Elorm," dada continued, "you must realise that this is real life. A man can never fall in love with you just because you sleep with him. He can only fall in love with the sex and that won't last forever."

They refused to understand that I had never been engaged in erotic actions with Michael — if making-out was excluded — or any other man for that matter.

I wished I could prove to them somehow that all that I was saying was true. There was a way, but if I did that, there would be no turning back.

"Michael will come to our house with his family to ask for my hand," I said confidently. "If he doesn't, I will allow myself to be married to Mr. Offei."

"Were you eavesdropping?" Fofo asked, completely disregarding every other thing I said.

"It's rude to eavesdrop. Lord, do you have any morals at all?" Dada asked.

I ignored both of them. "I promise you that Michael will come here to ask for my hand and when he does, you will believe me. After we are married, he himself will testify that I was a virgin before marriage."

My parents stared at each other. They were probably weighing their options, considering what harm believing me could possibly cause.

"You understand that if the prince doesn't come to ask for your hand, you will be married to that drunkard," Dada reminded me.

"I do," I said. "I have complete faith in the prince."

"Elorm, do you know what your life will be like with that man? He will beat you whenever he's angry. You will be forced to bear his children and you alone will raise them in abject poverty. You won't even have the spare time to watch that television you love so much. You'll have to do some mediocre work for low wages and even then he will steal it from you to buy alcohol."

"Don't worry, I will never have to live like that. Michael will take good care of me."

I refused to even think about what my life would be like if Michael didn't come. He'd come. He loved me.

"I hope you know what you're doing," dada said.

It surprised me how easily they accepted that Michael would come to ask for my hand. Maybe the possibility that what I was saying would actually happen was clouding their 'realism'.

I hoped Michael wouldn't disappoint me. I couldn't even imagine what life would be like with that drunkard as my husband. Lord knows I'd never accept something like that.

Even though running away is more difficult than movies make it seem, that was exactly what I would do.

But there was no need thinking about that stuff. Michael would come. He'd been there for me every time he'd had the chance.

"I'll be in the kitchen now. You should talk to the prince," dada said, "if what you're saying is really true."

"I'll talk to him tomorrow. It's late now. I'll be in my room."

My parents went to the back of the house — that was what we called the kitchen — and I went to the empty room they called mine. I sat on the floor with my back against the wall and my eyes glued to the roof. I sat like that when I was thinking.

Michael only jokingly asked for my hand. At least, that's what I thought. He couldn't have been serious. We both were only teenagers, and even though his father was old, he could rule for a few more years.

Michael getting married this young might be misconstrued as an effort to overthrow his father and take his place on the throne too early.

This marriage could also encourage the elders to push forward Michael's enstoolment instead, which might put an end to his education.

I wasn't sure if Michael wanted to become chief, but he must've known that he would be chief from a young age and he must've used this time to accept his fate, but I didn't want our marriage to compel this to happen sooner than it was supposed to be.

Not only the political cons our marriage had, but even the emotional ones were frightening. This could ruin the relationship we just recently began to build.

I mean, were we really even in love?

What if he misunderstands my intentions and he believes that I wanted to get married to him only to clear my name?

More importantly, what if he, for some reason, can't ask for my hand and I must marry Mr. Offei?

Lord, what had I gotten myself into?

Maybe I didn't love him. If I did, I wouldn't have been doubting us that much. I didn't even know him well enough to marry him.

What if I discovered another side to him after we got married? There was also that lingering thought that I wasn't old enough to marry him.

I didn't want to bear children just yet. What if he wanted them?

There were so many things we had to discuss before. The more I thought about it, the more I realised that I was marrying him not because I love him but for my own good.

Or, I did love him, but it just wasn't the right time for all this.

What about him having to go to school? I heard that he would be attending university in the United States, at a certain school called Harvard... or was it Yale?

He would surely live on campus; how was that going to work? Would he leave me in Ghana and go to live in the United States? How do I trust that he'd be faithful to me?

Even if I went with him, how could I live alone in a city that I was foreign to while he lives in the school?

How about my own education? Universities wouldn't accept someone who never even had an education. Could I even start from the beginning at eighteen?

It was unhealthy to go into a marriage alliance with all these doubts. I had to find an alternative solution to clear my name and achieve my dreams.

With a million questions and no answers in my mind, I laid my head on the hard floor and closed my eyes. I was asleep in minutes.

* * *

When I woke up the next morning, the boys had already gone to school. Dada had prepared breakfast and packed their lunch, but she left my other chores to me. I was done with my chores in about two hours and then I bathed.

As soon as I came out of the bathroom stall, all the thoughts from the previous night hit me like a freight train. I groaned in confusion.

Michael would ask for my hand that day and who knew when we would be married? I towelled myself dry and put on a pink blouse and a black floral skirt.

My hair was no problem because it had been cropped low. I put a little Vaseline on my lips so that they would shine, and I sprayed a little of my favourite perfume.

"Where are you going all gussied up?" Dada asked me when I came into the living room.

"I just thought I'd look and smell nice for the prince and his family today," I told her assuredly.

She smiled. I reason that my parents had a long night to think over what I had told them and decided to believe me. I could only hope that I wouldn't let them down again.

"Let's hope that all goes well and Mr. Offei's visit to us this afternoon will be of no use."

"Mr. Offei is coming?" I asked.

"With his parents and sister. We weren't joking when we said that he had asked for your hand," dada told me. "Let's just hope that when the royals come, they'll be daunted enough to make themselves scarce."

"But why must I get married? Can't I stay for a little while longer?" I asked. "When I leave, who will cook for the family? You can't do all the chores I take care of and work at the market too."

"I'll manage," she laughed. "I used to do everything before you were born and I'll be able to do it when you leave. Besides, it's high time that I introduced the boys to chores. You know that they're too lazy for their own good."

"But the main reason you're marrying me off is because of my reputation, isn't it?" I asked.

"It's for your own good. I'm your mother Elorm, and I want to believe you," she said, "but it's difficult especially when I hear things at the market. The women speak badly of you, but it doesn't hurt me that they think I'm a bad mother. What is more painful is that they speak of you, my own child, like that."

I stared back at her. I found it hard to believe that either of my parents loved me, but when she looked at me like that and talked that way, it made it easier. "It's why you've been so hard on me, isn't it? You believed the insults and beatings would make me want to be a better person."

"Isn't that why every parent reprimands their child? I carried you in my womb for nine months. We share a bond that you won't ever share with anyone else."

I never imagined those words would come out of my mother's mouth. I was too afraid to speak or move, terrified that I would ruin the moment.

"And speaking of the market, I need you to buy somethings for me. We need to prepare a meal for the prince when he arrives," she said, perfectly ruining the moment. She went into her room and came out with a list and a wad of money which she handed to me.

"Can we afford all this?" I asked, after taking a quick glance at the list.

"Well, the prince will compensate us if we can't," she said, making us both laugh.

"Thank you for believing me mum," I told her.

She smiled.

Realising that it was too soon for any physical contact, I returned her smile and went out of the house, bound for the market.

"Elorm wait!" Dada called before I could go far. I went back into the house where she was waiting. "You must get the prince here before sundown. Or else Mr. Offei will have your hand. Do you understand me?"

"Yes mum," I said.

"That means you must meet with him as soon as you come back from the market," she added.

I rolled my eyes. "I know mum."

"Who are you rolling your eyes at?" She queried.

I laughed and rushed out of the house before she could stop me.

The sun was very bright that day, so I walked slowly so that I wouldn't sweat in my beautiful attire and ruin my nice smell. On the way to the market, my mind went back to my problems even though I warned it not too.

Maybe, I could ask Michael to give me time even after we were married. We would be a married couple but sleep in separate rooms so that I wouldn't get pregnant.

No, that would be too cruel to him and besides, I didn't think I'd be able to resist him myself if we stayed in the same house.

Or when he comes to my house, we would just get engaged but we could postpone the marriage for maybe five years.

No, that seemed too unrealistic.

I knew I couldn't stay with him without breaking the morals and values I was raised with if we weren't married. It was better to avoid temptation than to face it and succumb to it.

There was always the alternative that I could forget everything I've ever dreamed of and just be his wife. After all, it would be a comfortable life. I'd never have to deal with school stress and I'd live in luxury without having to work for anything.

But could I settle for being known as Michael Amegah's wife? Could I settle to leave behind no legacy? Could I settle for having children as being my most impressive feat throughout my life?

No.

Other women could — and that was completely okay — but I couldn't. Especially because of the community I grew up in that believed women were just that; beings born just to incubate other humans before they could be brought into the world.

I wasn't ready to make them believe that they were right.

I arrived at the market sooner than I anticipated. Perhaps it was the same time I usually used to get here but I had been so consumed by my thoughts that I wouldn't realise. I was surprised that I didn't veer off the path.

I began buying the foodstuff on the list, crossing a foodstuff when I had already purchased it. When I was down to tomatoes and garlic, a dilapidated lorry spluttered and coughed its way to the market square.

I watched it in amusement. Those were the kinds of lorries that carried the market women and their goods to and from the market to other places. It looked like it had fallen from space to the earth in a ball of fire; it was virtually a death trap. It was sad that people had to ride it to maintain their source of revenue.

The tomato vendor asked me what amount of tomatoes I wanted to buy. I told her and she packed them in a black polythene bag and handed them to me.

"I don't have change for fifty," she told me when I handed her the fifty cedi note.

"I think I have some." Someone said from behind me.

I nearly jumped when I recognised his voice. "Have you been following me?" I asked coyly.

"Me? Of course not," he smirked.

* * *

Sorry for that ending. I had to split the chapter into two.

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