Amara episode 4: Wahala

amara sad black woman
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READ:  Amara Episode 3: Busted

The day she had found out about the pregnancy, she was devastated, lost, and scared. She had cried throughout the day and gone to sleep. That night, she had prepared Ayo’s favorite dish to sweeten the mood. She had expected him not to take the news well. What she didn’t expect was his volcanic reaction.

First, he choked on his eba. Next, he sent a tirade of insults that would make the devil blush, calling her a careless woman who should have protected herself against such ‘nonsense’. Amara imagined herself splitting her stomach open and placing the baby in her womb before informing ‘poor’ him of her pregnancy.  Ayo continued his rants. He could barely provide for her and the children with the meager income he made from his okada. He wasn’t even sure the children would go to school. He hadn’t paid the loan he took when the eldest child came down with malaria. He hadn’t paid the rent for the month. And now there was another child on the way? Did she want to kill him before his time? As he spoke, his temper kept building and building until it reached a breathless crescendo. Then he walked out of the apartment leaving her stunned face behind.

He came back three days later to calmly inform her that she would have to get rid of the baby. He knew one Iya Agbomola in Ijebu. They would leave the children in their neighbour, Iya Ibeji’s care. Iya Agbomola could easily take of their problem and cheaply too. Amara could only stare at him in disbelief. Did he realize what he was saying? Didn’t he know that the ‘problem’ was their flesh and blood? That abortion was against everything she believed in? Did he not see how dangerous it was?  It was unfair to her and especially the baby. He had curtly replied that it was equally unfair to bring in a child that they couldn’t provide for. Better it was never born.

Amara had desperately and tearfully pleaded with him to not make her do it. She would try to get another job to supplement the proceeds from her kiosk. He could do likewise and they would pool their resources together and manage the family. He could restart his music career, right?

He had snapped again. How could he make music when all he thought of everyday was how to provide for the family? Did she think it was easy to sign on a recording deal? Where will he get the money to release his single? Who listened to his type of music anyway?

“If you keep this baby,” he had threatened coldly, “you are on your own.”

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