~Author's POV~

Three decades back.

As the tradition of society burdens every young woman who clocked the second decade of her existence with the thought that the best days of her life began the day she is entrusted into the hands of a man in the name of marriage, Nwamaka was very excited about getting married to her first love, Ekene, in Orlu village, Imo state, the small suburb they had grown up in together. Her father had been quite repulsive to her decision to make Ekene her lifetime partner. His most optimistic response was suppressed to "as long as he makes you happy, it is your choice."

Blossoming in the euphoria of their neoteric matrimony, they had unleashed sentiments of curiosity towards giving a name to the their yet to be born child."If it's a girl, she's going to be called Adaeze, and if it's a boy, Jide - Kene" Nwamaka and Ekene had agreed on one sunny afternoon under the cashew tree, a day after her bride price was paid when she was just three months pregnant.

And the following six months of their marriage had heard the cry of a female child.

The birth of Adaeze Aniekwe had been welcomed with the bliss of affection, gifts from patrons and relatives and as well, the presence of her mother who helped with the basic stage of infant massages and extremely hot baths.

The dizzy spells and missed period had warded off a sign to Nwamaka about the possibility of a developing foetus even though her breasts still dripped the liquid that fed her five months old. She had considered weaning anyway. But the thought of stepping into a second trimester had groped her with distress and fear.

Nwamaka had recalled a supportive parenting and partnering from both herself and Ekene. Through the second trimester and the first few weeks after childbirth.

Nwamaka and her husband thought it was a good idea to name their second child the name they had set aside for their first son. Jide-Kene, they named him. Curly dark hair like his sister.

breastfed for an entire year, because Nwamaka visited the Orlu health centre every three months to renew her 'family planning injection' as they called it, a form of contraceptive, so she could make love to her husband without any other form of protection and she wouldn't be worried about getting pregnant again.

She had sought to visit the Orlu health centre after being convinced of trying the new 'family planning' routine which could help curb the frequencies of pregnancy occurrence. She had chosen the injection method which she thought would save her the hassle of having to remember to take the pills daily - if she had chosen the pills.

The injection method had indeed been a miracle which had tamed her eggs than her husband's orgasms for the last couple of years.

Ekene had come home that Saturday morning, and he had gotten a new job as a security man at the Orlu local government Council, which is just fifty naira taxi from their home.

Nwamaka's parents had come for the three-year-old Adaeze and her baby brother earlier that Saturday morning. They would be spending the day with their only grandparents since they do not have paternal grandparents.

Nwamaka and Ekene were excited with the new job, it would make them more money than the okada business. Because Nwamaka was so in love, and excited for her husband, and the best thing about being in love is making love.

Nine months later, Nwamaka gave birth to a set of beautiful boys whose eyeballs reminded her of her father who passed away the day before.

Ekene wasn't as present as he was for their first two children, because his job at the council was more demanding, and on the days when he was off duty, he wanted to hang out with Victor, Stephen and Obi, his long-time friends. Nwamaka would be home nurturing the twins who would cry incessantly, while she tried to control a three-year-old Jide - Kene, whose only way of expressing himself was to say yes to everything, apart from 'mama', the only other word he could say, besides yes.

The four-year-old Adaeze was faster at picking up words. She started reading the English alphabet at Kene's age. Nwamaka didn't compare her children's growth. She loved and supported their individuality.

When the twins turned 6 months old, Nwamaka started frying puff-puff to sell to passers-by every morning. Her puff-puff brand grew, and according to the law of economics,

An increase in demand requires greater input from the producer to increase supply.

It was stuck in her head because Ekene always chanted it during their early marriage years.

She missed her husband.

Adaeze turned ten, Kene, nine, simultaneously, the twins, six, and now a year-old baby sister. While Kene would assist their mum through frying the first sets of puff puff before heading for school in the morning, Kene would help his younger ones prepare for school, including their one-year-old baby sister, Amaka who he straps behind him and drops at the daycare centre, a piece of advice from grandma who had spent a month with them taking care of Amaka after the hazardous event of her eighth month birth repeating itself.

It was a week since Ekene came home last; she was done frying puffpuff that morning. She poured the hot oil she had used into the large stainless bowl she had designated for that purpose. Nwamaka glanced over where she had laid her daughter to sleep and didn't see her, she looked around to find her near the stack of burning firewood pulling the stainless of hot oil; she dropped everything she was doing at once to gently carry Amaka before it was too late, but as she acted upon reflex and shouted, it was too late, Amaka successfully dragged the stainless, and the next sound was burning tears of an eight-month-old girl who had just suffered been burn from hot oil.

With her mother's quick intervention, she didn't suffer a severe burn. Nwamaka called her mother immediately since she couldn't afford going to a hospital. She advised Nwamaka to get honey to rub the affected area. Though scared to her bones, she obeyed. Nwamaka's mother made herself available in an hour and took Amaka to the hospital and their grandmother stayed with them for a month because that night Nwamaka broke down when she tried to call Ekene's number again and it wasn't connecting.

She struggled to believe the man she had loved and bore five children for, abandoned her with their children. He had quietly packed his load and fled. She cried herself to sleep on most nights.

In the next year, she lost her mum and life became harder. She could no longer pay for her children's education, even though it was her dream for her children to become B.Sc holders, at least.

When Adaeze turned 12, she could fry puff puff at any volume without her mum. Their mum had expanded her business, she fried puffpuff, buns and eggroll in the morning, akara at night.

While Adaeze would fry puffpuf, her mum would fry buns, and eggroll. While their mate would be in a classroom receiving lectures, Kene would insist on going to sell in the community school, so that he would stand by the class equally, paying attention to the teacher from the window. Students his age would sometimes pity him or make fun of him while they bought his pastries. It sometimes made him sad, but he would never give others the satisfaction of showing how hurt he was.

In the evening, Kene and Adaeze would hawk the akara, after frying. Their mum would prepare dinner before they get back. That has been their routine for years now. Whenever they hawked, they were well familiar with their frequent customers. Sometimes, they would part ways, but they always met down the river. They made each other promises that whoever arrives by the river first must wait for the other. Within ten to fifteen minutes, the other sibling always arrives.

However, that chilly night, Kene waited, as usual, an hour, and two hours, for his sister, who had parted earlier to meet their customers who lived along different routes. He decided to trace back his sister along her usual hawking route.

A few metres away, he heard quiet sobs, and walked faster towards the noise which sounded like his sister's.

He hadn't been wrong. Because it was indeed Adaeze.

The faded white gown she wore earlier had changed its colour to brown, and managed to cover her breast, as she held tightly to the cloth, she held on tightly, Kene was sure something was not right.

Had she been robbed? That was the only instance he could go with but right on the floor was the money from all the akara she had sold.

She sat there bare-backed, with rough hair. She wouldn't even lift her head to look at her brother. Kene bent over.

"Ada, why are you crying?" He asked innocently with a frown.

When Adaeze did not respond, he asked again, "Who beat you?"

"Who tore your cloth, Ada?"

She did not stop crying, and neither did she answer. Kene ran home to call their mum, who had just finished preparing Akpu, which was to be their dinner.

On seeing her daughter, Nwamaka instantly knew. She sobbed as she untied her wrapper and carefully wrapped it around her. Nobody had dinner that night, they all slept on an empty stomach.

After that incident, Nwamaka stopped selling akara. Five months later, Adaeze was heavily pregnant. Some villagers and Neighbours called them names.

"Aru! Is she not just 15?" They'd spit on the floor.

She assisted her mum irrespectively to fry the puffpuff every morning. She couldn't even get proper care.

People passed a lot of insensitive comments audibly. When Adaeze was six months pregnant, she stopped coming out. She would sit inside and cry all day. She was in a lot of pain, physically and emotionally.

Mr Dare Adesina a building contractor in Abuja. He had just been awarded a federal contract to restructure and renovate some of the federal buildings in Imo State. He visited Orlu village, to see for himself how decapitated most of these buildings were.

He walked around the building with the school principal, one teacher, and the two engineers he came with. They discussed the new structure they would want the school building to take.

Mr Dare noticed all the students were in class except the young boy sitting with a plastic bowl in front of him counting stones.

"Why is that boy not in class?" He pointed at Kene.

"He's not one of our students' sir. He hawks pastries." The teacher answered immediately.

"And he is a good boy," the school principal immediately added with a smile.

"Okay. So we would ensure each building has access to at least four toilets," Mr Dare continued.

After the discussion, he waltzed to his car, where his driver was paying Kene after buying puffpuff from him.

Kene greeted Mr Dare, "Good afternoon, sir. Won't you buy puffpuff too, sir?"

"No. I'm fine" He was hungry and very tired but he just wanted to make it back to the airport in the next two hours, so he wouldn't miss his flight to Abuja.

"You know what would make you feel better, sir? This puffpuff" Kene flashed his teeth at Mr Dare who seemed exhausted and uninterested in the food.

"Why do you say so?" He decided to indulge the boy.

"Food makes anyone feel better."

The man laughed at the way he said it like it was common sense.

"My mum uses vegetable oil with low cholesterol for health benefits, even though it costs more" He equally said, like he was sharing a valued secret.

"How do you know that?"

The boy frowned like he was offended. "You expect, I shouldn't know anything because I'm a village boy." He turned away his eagerness to sell to the man gone.

Mr Dare smiled looking at him with interest."How old are you?"

"Thirteen sir." Kene turned.

"Where are your parents, why are you not among the others?" He gestured at the classes.

"I don't have a father, but my mommy is at home frying puffpuff and taking care of my sister"

"Is your sister sick?" The man smiled.

"I think so. She's always crying and she won't talk to us."

"How old is she?" He frowned.

"Fourteen sir." He was suspicious of the too many questions, and was about leaving cause it seemed like the man wouldn't buy his food.

"Are you sure your mommy doesn't mistreat or...?"

"I don't think so. Maybe because she's pregnant and people talk about her."

"Pregnant?!" Mr Dare was horrified, and Kene wondered why he was so furious. Maybe he was a doctor.

"Are you a doctor, sir? My mummy says Adaeze will soon go to the doctor because she'll get money tomorrow"

"You mean she hasn't been to a hospital? Get into the car and take me to your house. I want to meet your mum." The man's anger was evident.

"No," He was always warned about kidnappers so he refused.

"You are scared?" The man asked.

He would never admit to that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Mr Dare first introduced Kene to his wife, Janet. She disagreed frantically, despite her husband's appeal. He further explained how poor Kene's family were, and how Adaeze, a pregnant teenager had contracted Vesicovaginal Fistula, VVF, after she was raped, a condition that can only be treated with surgery.

"Imagine if it were our Elsie, baby" Mr Dare spoke softly to his wife

"It can never be our Elsie. Spare me please and don't baby me. You already said you had paid for the girl's surgery, doctor's visit and antenatal. You invested in their mother's business. You pledged to sponsor the girl back to school and through school after she puts to bed. You put his other siblings through school, and now you are coming with a foster child. No way, Dare!" Janet was a very hot-blooded woman.

Being married for nineteen years, Dare knew how to handle his wife. She ended up accepting her husband's plea.

However, she was always quick to remind Kene she wasn't his mother and remind her friends that she has only two sons, Collins, her first son and Yemi whose only purpose in life is to play video games, barely interacts with anyone, just his space and computers, even though Kene was two years older.

Elsie, on the other hand, was the last child, and the only girl, sweet to Kene, willing to share her toys and would proudly announce to anyone willing to listen that she has three brothers, and Kene is her favourite brother.

Collins, however, was his mother's son, and he would constantly bully Kene. When Mr Dare sent Yemi and Kene to join Collins in London. Collins would constantly throw Kene outside the house at night for minimal offences like using his charger, or not doing chores.

Mr Dare rented another apartment for Kene in his second year at The University of Brighton, England where he studied Economics as a major course for three years, and he graduated.

Mr Dare did not abandon the rest of Kene's family. He sent Nwamaka a monthly allowance consistently for years, as promised until Kene was off age and started doing the sending. After Adaeze had her baby boy, she named him Joshua which was Dare's christian name, and her siblings treated him like their last child..

Mr Dare sponsored Adaeze through her securing a bachelor's degree in journalism. The whole family of Aniekwe owe their progress in life to him.

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