Framed, Forgotten, and Pregnant Again

EPISODE 12: She told me to leave and move into the house her husband had supposedly rented for me but that apartment was actually the one I rented with the money she had paid me earlier. Her husband never rented any place for me. You remember I had once laid a curse on the children out of anger, vowing that if I ever left, something would happen to them. That statement made her slap me, and her husband reacted angrily to her action. Little did I know I should have taken her advice and leave immediately. Not long after, she and her husband reconciled. She later called me, crying. I, too, was on my knees apologizing but deep down, I was wishing she’d just go to bed and never wake up again. They kept me at home for a few more months just to help my belly go down to the point where no one would believe I had ever given birth. I no longer had a phone, but I was being taken care of. One day, Aunty’s husband showed up with a new iPhone and gave it to me. He asked if I was still interested in schooling or if I’d rather go into business. I told him I preferred school, though deep inside I knew I was struggling mentally and emotionally and passing JAMB would be a real challenge. I was now allowed to go out but only to Aunty’s shop. She barely spoke to me, her husband on the other hand now treated me like her younger sister nothing more. He no longer came into my room at night. Meanwhile, Aunty had already paid half of the agreed amount for the new baby, yet hadn’t completed payment for the first child. One afternoon, Aunty suddenly started her drama again claiming her money was missing. The two children in the house were still very young, my son was almost four months old, and his sister was just over three years. It was clear they couldn’t have stolen anything, and I didn’t take her money either. In fact, I wasn’t even allowed to interact with the children, as they had a nanny. Before I knew what was happening, Aunty stormed into my room with a police officer. They searched my bag and suddenly, $200 appeared inside. I had no idea how it got there. She immediately called my mother and asked if I had sent her some money. My mother responded that I had sent her a huge amount to her, to help me keep. At that point, I was too stunned to speak. They took me to the police station. And before the torture began, I quickly admitted not because I was guilty, but because I knew no one would believe me anyways. I said I took the money they were accusing me of stealing. They locked me up, as the officers prepared to close for the day, I overheard one of them asking if someone was coming to bail me. The IPO responded, saying she didn’t think the confession was true but that it was out of his hands. These were powerful people, and I had already accepted my fate. My phone was taken at the counter, so I had no way of contacting anyone. I spent the night in the cell. The following evening, Aunty’s husband arrived with a lawyer to bail me out. On our way back, he started questioning if my mother was truly the one who gave birth to me. Right in the car, the lawyer began warning him to be smart that Aunty could eliminate me if care is not taken. That was when I found out Aunty didn’t even know he was coming to bail me out. When we got home, I told Aunty I needed to talk to her, but she kept claiming she was busy. Right there and then, I began threatening her, telling her that if she refused to listen to me, I’d instruct everyone who had a copy of her secrets to start exposing them. I warned her that even if she managed to kill me, she wouldn’t be able to kill all my friends. I told her I knew everything from how she drugged me so her husband could take my virginity, to how she repeated another act for the second pregnancy. I said I had already reported "everything about her, her husband, and the doctor" and that trusted people were ready to expose them if anything happened to me. Whether my mother was being blackmailed or simply greedy, I no longer cared. I packed my bags and told her I was leaving but I’d come back for my children. This same woman who once told me to return to the village suddenly slammed the door and refused to let me move an inch. She immediately called bodyguards to monitor me, fearing that "the doctor" who was her husband’s friend could lose his license if things got out. While I was in the room, one of my friends called to say they had come to arrest them. They were being forced to sign undertakings, even with that, they still spent five days at the station and had to pay ₦50,000 each for bail. After that, they stopped communicating with me completely. I, on the other hand, went back to school, this time to pursue my NCE. But during my third year, one day I had returned home, and aunty’s husband as usual began sweet-talking me. Before I could even process what was happening, we had sex again… and just like that, I became pregnant with my third child. To be continued…