Fikayo was up at 4 am, thirsty. She slowly got out of bed, slipped into her slippers and headed for the kitchen.

Fortunately, there was power supply. She downed two cups of water before leaving the kitchen for her room. In the passage, she heard footstep sounds coming from her parents’ room adjacent hers then hushed tones followed and she moved to their door, her ear pressed to it. She still could not make out their words.

Her father’s voice rose suddenly.

“You call those ones children? Female children, the second one is even a block head. I’m spending my money on a bastard child and you want me to stay with you. Look here woman, I want sons and I’m expecting one, I’m not going to hide that. My child will be born soon so I’m off to take care of my real child and his mother.”

“Ehn, Oko mi, take your voice down. Your children are asleep,” her mother said in a soft voice.

His voice rose an octave higher.

“What useless children? Yemisi, I’m warning you, get out of my way, now!”

Her mother’s voice was too quiet for her to make out her words but her father yelled his next words, “Am I her father? Answer me, woman, am I her father?”

Whose father? Fikayo vibrated in alarm, her heart racing at the speed of light. She heard a door open and turned to see her sister, a mixture of confusion and worry written on her face.

“What’s going on?” she asked, rubbing her eyes just as their father’s loud voice boomed in the quiet of the night.

“Fikayo is a bastard, a useless product of rape. Am I her father? Woman, I say move, common move out of my way.”

With trembling hands, shaky feet and a heart about to drop, Fikayo turned the knob and her parents turned their heads to her instantly.

Tears were rolling down her mother’s face. Her father’s face was contorted in anger, a small suitcase by his side.

“Mummy, daddy, I am a bastard?”

Her mother let out a loud cry and jumped up with both hands on her head. In a second, she grabbed the front of her husband’s shirt and tugged at it.

“You this man, I told you to keep your voice down. Now, look,” she screamed in anger.

Her father pushed her mother with great force and she landed on the bed with a thud.

“Ask your mother,” were his final words as he dragged his suitcase out of the room, his car keys dangling in his other hand.

She fled the room, ignoring her mother and sister’s pleas for her not to. Her sister grabbed her hand at the door of her room, attempting to hold her in a hug.

Usually, she’d succumb but she wanted nothing to do with anyone in the family. She wanted quiet, stillness to try and process the event that seemed like an out of body experience, like a horror movie, like a nightmare she did not want to have. She pushed her sister off her, walked in and locked herself in.

***
Her sister and mother had been knocking on her door incessantly for the past one hour, begging for her to unlock the door.

“Oluwafikayomi, I am your mother. I know I have failed you. I am sorry. Ah, s’anu mi, Oluwafikayomi, nitori Olurun.”

She heard her mother sob but remained unmoved lying face up, eyes heavy with tears unshed. Her chest felt weighty, like bags of cement were strapped to it. Her heart was heavy with a weight of pain she had never borne. The knocks grew weaker and less frequent as the hours rolled by till they ceased.

At seventeen minutes to eight, her phone rang. She grabbed it, saw the caller ID and turned it face down on her laps. She definitely was not going to church. Kaima called again and she let it ring, sending a text afterwards to inform her she was sick and wouldn’t be making it to church.

She switched off her phone, closed her eyes and squeezed them, willing the tears to fall. They did not. She drifted off to sleep after hours of musings. The banging on the door dragged her out of her escape. She rubbed her eyes as series of knocks reached her ears.

“Firefunmi, please leave,” she said sternly.

“Sweetheart,” the all too familiar soft voice called.

She jumped out of bed, hurrying to unlock the door.

“Aunty B,” she whispered, her eyes watering. “How- How did-“

Her gaze fell on Fire leaning against the wall opposite them.

“Shh,” Aunty B cut in, drawing her into a warm embrace. She buried her head in her shoulder and wept like a hungry baby.

***
“I feel like my whole life has been a lie. Everything is horrible. I don’t want to stay here, Aunty B.”

“That’s okay. Let me speak with your mum.”

Aunty B departed and returned minutes later with the good news that she could go with her. She packed toiletries and clothes to change into the next day in a small bag.

They bought a box of pizza and soft drinks on their way to Aunty B’s house. Aunty B told her funny stories of her childhood and university days as they journeyed which made Fikayo feel a bit lighter.

When they settled down in Aunty B’s guest room with the food and drinks, Fikayo’s appetite hid itself.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to eat, sweetheart,” she caressed her left cheek.

There was a minute of silence.

“Do you know I love you?” Aunty B asked. “I love you to the moon and back. I love you so much, Pastor Nath loves you, your church family loves you, the Nnadi’s love you and guess what? God loves you the most, sweetheart. We are all here for you.”

She placed a hand on her chest, “I am here for you.”

She took her hand and held it, stroking the back of it with affection.

“I came to visit you because Kosi said you were ill when I asked of you. Your sister opened the door for me with red puffy eyes. I knew something was wrong instantly. Then your mum sat on the floor, staring into space and I began to pray internally that nothing was wrong. I introduced myself, mummy told me you locked yourself in for hours and they were worried you would have hurt yourself. I still don’t know what happened, why there is so much gloom in your eyes. Beyond being your pastor’s wife, I am your sister...by blood; yes the blood of Jesus binds us. We are from the same family.”

Fikayo lifted her head and looked into her eyes.

“Listen sweetheart, I am here to listen and if you are not ready, I’ll still be here, praying for and with you, encouraging you, okay?”

She burst into tears and Aunty B drew her closer and she placed her head on her shoulder. After a few minutes, she wiped some tears away with her fingers and mustered courage to tell it all...from the genesis.

“You might have come into the world through rape, a vile, despicable act but it doesn’t reduce your value. You are still God’s beloved, sweetheart. God loves you so much. That simple truth if truly known and believed will set you free from a lot of heart ache. Before he formed you in the womb, he knew you. Your parents might not have wanted you and the circumstances surrounding your conception but God knew you and placed you here for a purpose.”

Aunty B stroked her arm as she continued, “It breaks my heart you had to experience the same experience your mother passed through. It breaks my heart. I want you to know that God does not partake in evil. There’s no evil in him. He would never cause you harm.”

“Listen to me,” she firmly said, breaking the embrace and lifting Fikayo’s chin. “Look at me, your story will liberate so many. Your light will pull many out of their darkness. I want you to keep your eyes fixed on Jesus, on how he loves you, how he sacrificed his life for you, how his body was broken so that yours wouldn’t. He is your salvation. Look at what Jesus did on the cross. That’s how much God loves you. That’s the length he would go just to ensure you live forever and victoriously on earth. The bible says, ‘in this world, you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.’”

“The devil will try to make you feel worthless because you were violated. But you’ll tell yourself what God says you are and who God has called you to be. The Lord seeks to heal you, even more than you seek healing. The devil comes to kill, steal and destroy but Abba is interested in giving you life, in healing you, in restoring what the enemy stole, in mending what he broke.”

Aunty B laid a hand on her shoulder and prayed for her. She encouraged her to speak in tongues in faith, explaining that the devil will try to dissuade her and make her feel like she was uttering nonsense.

“The Holy Spirit is within you, sweetheart. There are many things you will not be able to pray in understanding except you pray in the Holy Ghost. Open your mouth and speak.”

...
Did you see it coming or e shock you?

Wahala for who no get Aunty B 😭❤❤

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