Nights Come Faster
Nnenna watched her infant son nestle against her breast, his greedy little lips sucking. She did not let the shudder run freely down her 4.5 inch frame. She settled for a shiver. His lips smacked and she reminded herself again that, she did not want this thing. She did not want him, this alien rubbing against her body like he owned it. Who was he?
Mother sat beside her smiling and nodding. “He is a strong boy,” she said.
Nnenna had barely touched this thing since her body ejected it like a mass of solid waste. She prayed for Mama to leave for Ogbunabali today so she would not have to touch it ever.
“Ele dim?” Where is my husband?
Mother said nothing. She smiled one of her small smiles first. The smile that said, ‘I want to tell a lie that will suit you for now’ before she said, “He must be hard at work.”
Nnenna understood. Ever since her body began to expand with this thing, Ofunea had found new ways to see new things that were wrong with her. At first, it was the stretch marks that found their way from her thigh, running like river Niger down her legs. Then, it was her swollen feet that made her look like a frustrated cow. Those were his words.
She had tried to find ways to remove this thing that was slowly turning her into a full stranger to her husband. On the fourth try, the doctors had caught on. No, one doctor, he looked her in the eye and asked, “what are you trying to do to yourself?” She had said nothing. Who would understand anything she had to say? He had her sent to the ward after a while of talking to her. He would help or so he had said. What did that even mean?
The nurses had come, two of them. “You think say ee easy to carry bele abi?”
She said no.
“See me wahala. The thing wey other people dey go fasting to find and you wan comot am.”
The one with a cross mark on her forehead slapped her. “Make I put small sense for ya body,” she said after Nnenna explained about Ofunea. She blinked back the tears threatening to spill following the slap and listened to them.
“Buy cream to kill the stretch marks. Your husband is still a man. Try to entice am with ya body. Try to give am other styles of bend low, ee no matter say you dey pregnant.” The nurse advising her sat beside her, “Many men cheat on their wives during pregnancy so no take am serious you hear?”
Nnenna knew she would get rid of the thing. She had to but the thing stayed stubborn. She committed the ultimate sin when one night Ofunea had turned to her and she said she was not in the mood. She did not tell him that “it” was digging into her sides and other weird places in her body. She did not tell him that it was turning now and making her uncomfortable.
Ofu narrowed his eyes at her. “You are not the first to be pregnant”
It was the last night he spent at home. He was tired of marrying her like he had been hinting and it was because of this thing. He had found stretch mark-free options that came with a free run of bend lows.
Nnenna felt a sharp prick on her nipple. She looked down at it. It did not just mean to take her husband but her life. She pushed it away to her mother unable to stand the deafening squeaks coming from it.
Had King Solomon not judged a case that would be of help to her? That one woman had rolled over on the sickening thing and found peace. She dreamt of her life when it was gone. She dreamt of Ofunea. He was smiling at her. She was in the little black dress she had bought in August. Everything was alright again even the little trickles of urine running down her body after the birth had dried up. She smiled. Mother would leave when it was night. The night will have to come faster.
Contributor’s Bio
Abasiama Udom is a book lover interested in dead bodies and romance. You will see her taking a break from writing with a football game, searching for new pad brands or listening to music that may require a little tongue chewing.
Her works have been featured On Isele Magazine, Conscio Magazine, Stripes Literary Magazine and elsewhere. Find her on Twitter @abasiamaudom and on Instagram: @abasiama.udom
She had tried to find ways to remove this thing that was slowly turning her into a full stranger to her husband. On the fourth try, the doctors had caught on. No, one doctor, he looked her in the eye and asked, “what are you trying to do to yourself?” She had said nothing. Who would understand anything she had to say? He had her sent to the ward after a while of talking to her. He would help or so he had said. What did that even mean?
