Ekiomado

Ekiomado

Ekiomado

I came to him. This was becoming ridiculous. Three of my babies had died before they were 6 months old. I wanted to find out if my husband’s seed is bad, maybe his isn’t.

I had been married to his brother for 10 years. 10 years I had slaved and served and worked. I was the goddess of eye-service. Kneeling to greet my in laws, asking them what they would like to eat and drink every time they came around even when I didn’t give a damn about that. Giving generously to my nieces and nephews, even asking their parents to allow them live in my house because according to my mother in law, ‘children have a way of inviting other children.’ I had done all these still Omonose, Ivie and Agbondebama chose to leave me.

At first my mother-in-law was patient, comforting me and coming up with theories. ‘Maybe it wasn’t their destiny.’ ‘Maybe it was time for them to go.’ ‘Maybe they were wicked children and God decided to wipe them out.’

How could they be wicked children? All they did was eat, sleep and eat again. Mama was no longer having it. It stopped being the fault of the children and started being mine!

‘Maybe there’s is something wrong with your womb. I thought you said you married my son as a virgin?’

Maybe his seed is bad. Maybe the seed of your son is rotten beyond repair and every time he climbs me, he releases his damaged seed into my healthy womb. After all even the Bible says it is unwise to put new wine into old skin.

So I came to him. I came to Eheneden at midnight. If one brother can’t give me what I need, why can’t the other help?

Joy Ehizuenlen
Passionate about jollof

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