SHORT-LIVED: The pathetic story of beautiful Omo

“You mean you’re pregnant!” Ovie yelled at her. He jumped to his feet from the couch where he sat, and grabbed his belt to whip her. Memuna rushed to meet him…genuflecting, kneeling and rising in quick rehearsed succession…pleading with her husband not to hurt her.

Omo kept quiet, tears streaming down her cheeks as she clutched onto her mother and dragged her wrapper, almost stripping her while at the same time trying so hard to hide between her legs.

“Take it easy my husband. The neighbours will hear of our shame and gather here in no time to find out what’s wrong, if you don’t stop shouting,” Memuna cried to her irate husband. She pleaded with him to handle the matter with maturity and as children of God would. After all, they were Christians.

At this time, Omo and Memuna – her mom, were in so much tears that Ovie could feel the pain ripping through his entire body…from the crown of his head to the sole of his feet.

It was a penetrating pain of anguish mixed with disappointment, disgust and shame.

He wondered as the thoughts ran riots in his head, what the folks in church would say, he thought about his extended family members. ‘What about his in-laws’, he thought. Ovie could feel the frustration building up in him as he looked at the corner of the living room, where he saw Omo’s two younger siblings – Baba and Iyere, sitting on the floor and crying profusely…looking confused and afraid at the scenario they were witnessing. They were just kids.

Baba, who was three years younger than Omo, had just turned 11 earlier in the month, while Iyere was only nine.

The sudden pandemonium, which lasted all about 15 minutes had scared them stiff; as they had never seen their dad that mad before.

They were simply distraught.

Ovie’s heart melted when he saw the look on their faces. He literally slumped on the couch feeling faint all of a sudden. “Go inside the room, all of you,” he told the children. “Go in please. I will like to be left alone with your mother.”

“I’m sorry daddy!…I’m sorry mummy! Please forgive me!” Omo cried bitterly as she went into the room with her younger ones. A plea to which her parents turned a deaf ear. They both shook their heads in unison, a sign of dejection; of despair; of disapproval; of disappointment; a sign of regret.

As the door shut behind them, Memuna told Ovie to be calm and asked that they should say a word of prayer but he just kept quiet, staring into space and taking deep breaths and sighing. Memuna could see the whole episode was taking a toll on him.

She knew the most disturbing for him was that he was a minister in the local church and prominent member of the elders council. ‘How will he be able to face the congregation now?’ She thought to herself, as if reading his mind.

For she knew how passionate he was about the church and the things of God. She felt so sorry for him as she looked at his deflated, defeated, crestfallen disposition on the couch.

There still remained though, the more important matter of what needed to be done regarding Omo’s pregnancy. She was just 14 years old and in Junior Secondary School (JSS III), to be precise – preparing for her Junior West Africa Examination Council (WAEC), exams – with her whole future ahead of her.

After he had reluctantly beckoned on her to pray at her request, she said a short prayer to which he didn’t respond throughout. He didn’t even say amen when she finished.

She decided to be with the children in their room.

“Let me go and join them in their room. Please, be calm. I know that God will direct us in this difficult time. Hope you will join me inside soon,” she said as she got up to enter the room.

Ovie sat motionless and thoughts filled his head. He remembered when Omo was born. How difficult things had been for the family at that time…when their marriage had been at the nascent stage when he was still struggling to make ends meet. No sooner had they got married that Memuna got pregnant. So within their first year of marriage, while still trying to settle down, she was delivered of a beautiful baby girl.

They named her Omo.

Omo had shown early signs of brilliance and good intelligence too. She was a perfect healthy child. Every parent’s dream. She developed fast and her growth was tremendous indeed. At eight weeks, she could sit comfortably on her own and by seven months, she was already walking quite comfortably round the house. She was such a cute baby and a bundle of joy to behold.

A very beautiful child indeed!

Omo did exceptionally well academically. Ovie remembered how he used to ‘bring’ her out and ‘present’ her to his friends to read newspapers to them when she was in Primary 3. They would applaud her, and this made him very proud of her. He used to refer to her as the ‘Toast of the Family’ and as the ‘Future Doctor’, and indeed, she was toeing that direction. She never failed any exam, neither did she repeat any class. Of his three children, she was outstanding, academically speaking. She was also evolving into a very beautiful young woman with her well endowed features, which betrayed her young age.

This made many take a second look at her anytime and anywhere she appeared. Her father saw in her, with all her qualities – beauty and brains- a shining light set to bring their family out of darkness. Well, literally speaking.

So, it could be understood how he felt when Memuna brought back the horrible report that Omo was nine weeks pregnant, after she had taken her for a pregnancy test at the nearby lab. Both him and his wife had been noticing changes in Omo for sometime now. Initially, they discountenanced it as mere fever building up to malaria. However, when the seeming symptoms seemed to persist, with her showing signs of early morning sickness and tiredness, her excessive sleeping, overeating and sudden large appetite, nausea, added weight and vomiting. They had to go for the test.

Before then, upon interrogation by her parents, she had vehemently rejected and denied being pregnant. But when the results came, their fears – rather than being allayed – came to pass. ‘She was just a child’, he thought to himself. He wondered what people will say. He felt so ashamed, yet, guilty that he had failed and let Omo, his beautiful princess down.

He felt bad that under his watch, a strange boy, man, whatever, whoever it was, had put his princess in the family way. He thought to himself if he had abandoned his duties to his children while focusing on the activities in church. He asked himself if he had been there to listen to their deep desires, their fears, plans, opinions, suggestions, world views and all that ever bothered them; beyond just providing for the family.

It was such a rude awakening for him and he wished he had this critical self assessment and appraisal long before now. He felt like he had let down his family.

Ovie thought to himself that they had to come to terms with what had happened. He called Memuna to their room while Omo and her younger ones were asleep and they decided, after a long discussion, to send her to Memuna’s mother in the village, to deliver the baby there.

After much persuasion, it was obvious Omo did not know who was responsible for the pregnancy. And for fear of her doing something nasty to herself, they let her be by discontinuing to pressure her into providing an answer. Their investigation however revealed that she had been sexually active, and that she had had multiple sex partners.

So, forthwith, Memuna and Omo headed to the village, where she was to stay with granny till after delivery of her baby. Memuna was shuttling between Lagos and the village, after she had helped Omo settle in. She had to come back home to relive Ovie with the younger ones, Baba and Iyere.

Tongues had been wagging in the neighbourhood regarding Omo’s sudden ‘disappearance’. A lot had been said but Ovie and Memuna remained strong through it all. Their pastor had told the couple to be strong, saying though it was tough, the situation would soon pass. He was happy that they decided against aborting the unborn child, in which case they would have also endangered Omo’s life.

He concluded by telling them that all will be well.

Gradually, it had become known that Omo was pregnant, and that that was what necessitated her sudden relocation.

The stigma.
The pain.
The shame.
The rejection.

They lived through it all. It had started taking a toll on Memuna too, as she had to do the trips to and from the village, every other month till Omo put to bed. She was drained, fatigued – mentally and physically.

Nonetheless, she pulled through it all. She had received a lot of bashing from her husband and in-laws, who saw her as a bad mother who didn’t put her foot down, was careless as regards bringing up Omo, especially. She was said to be weak and accused of not doing her homework well enough. Through it all, she kept her peace and prayed that the young child will be able to deliver the baby safely. For her, that was paramount at this stage.

Sooner than later, Omo was delivered of a bouncing baby girl. News of the safe delivery was greeted with mixed feelings. An anticlimax of sorts. While her family felt happiness that she survived, they weren’t too keen about the baby because of the stigma she had brought to the family. It was seen as a stain.

Omo had to be kept back in the village to nurture the child for at least a year. Memuna virtually relocated this time to join granny, her mom, to be with Omo, whom herself needed a lot of care. It was a difficult time indeed for the whole family. A lot of readjustment had to be made.

Omo’s education suffered considerably. Obviously, she had to temporarily stop schooling and concentrate on being a mother for now. It was a tough call, a tall order… but she didn’t have a choice, did she?

The fact that her education, her being educated was fast becoming a mirage…this reality was what was killing Ovie, her father. He just couldn’t come to terms with it. Each time he thought of it, he felt so bad that he said to himself that he will never forgive himself for what had happened.

His once charming nature with good sense of humour, had deteriorated to one of anger, bitterness and unfriendliness. Memuna, Baba and Iyere were left to rue the ‘loss’ of the husband and father they used to know and enjoy being with. Things had really changed for their family and Memuna wondered if things could ever be the same again.

How one action could affect and upset an entire family, sending them on an entirely different course. A detour hitherto unplanned.

Alas! By the time Omo’s baby was seven months old, she was discovered to be pregnant yet again.

It was shocking. It was confusing. Memuna felt like skinning her alive, but she couldn’t. She did not know how to tell her husband. Surely, this will be the final nail in her coffin, she thought.

Painfully for her, this happened under her own watch and her mother’s. ‘Now, grandma had been dragged into this mess,’ she said to herself.

Ovie hadn’t come to see Omo and his grandchild seven months after she was born. Obviously due to a mixture of anger and guilt. Now this? She felt like asking the ground to open up and swallow her.

Omo had admitted to engaging in unprotected sex a couple of times with a young man two houses away from grandma’s house. He had ‘spotted’ her on one of the occasions when she went for an evening walk through the village square due to boredom.

One thing led to another. They became close and he usually looked forward to gisting with her through her evening strolls. It was only a matter of time before she fell into his arms.

Truth is, painful as it is, unbelievable as it is, Omo had become pregnant yet again. Her mother fainted, was rushed to the nearby clinic. She was hospitalised for three days. Gradma had to put a call through to Ovie to come over from Lagos. Sitting by Memuna’s clinic bed, he swore that Omo was no longer his daughter as he had renounced her. He also said he never wanted to set his eyes on her again.

All pleas fell on deaf ears. They tried consoling him, that at least, the person responsible for this particular pregnancy was known, had been informed, and was willing to accept responsibility, since according to him, he was in love with Omo. He was infuriated the more at the thought of Omo, his once-prized jewel falling in love with a villager. This wasn’t what he had planned out for her. He simply didn’t want to hear any of it.

As soon as Memuna got better and was discharged from the clinic, Ovie left for Lagos to be with Baba and Iyere, both of whom had been left to stay with a close family friend. Nobody mentioned the pregnancy matter to them, neither did they mention it to any other person for that matter.

Memuna at this time, technically retired to the village to ‘permanently’ stay with Omo, her baby and expected baby. She hadn’t weaned the first one and she was expecting another, at her tender age. It had a psychological as much as a physical effect on her. She was tired. Memuna contemplated abortion. The doctor, after thorough examination, warned against it.

She was left to bear the burden.

Dreams were fading away fast. Her life was taking an untoward detour, a downward spiral. She hated herself the more by the day as it continued to dawn on her that she had let her parents, her younger ones down. It was hard for her. A lot was going on in her mind.

By the time Omo’s baby turned 16 months old (a year and four months), she went into labour for her second child. She was barely 15 years old.

Labour was tough. The pain excruciating – traumatising to say the least. It was prolonged. The doctor said there were complications. They needed a caesarean section to ensure her safety and that of the baby’s.

There was confusion everywhere. Her mother called Ovie to come over…They asked for someone to sign the approval form for the operation. Memuna was afraid. She told grandma to take the other baby home and keep praying.

At this time, the father of the unborn child was sent for. He agreed to sign and Omo was wheeled into the theatre.

Minutes turned into hours. Prayers were being said. Memuna and Omo’s lover were pacing up and down the hallway.

After about two hours, the doctor came out. Memuna charged at him. He told her to calm down. “How’s she and the baby?” She shouted. “Everything will be fine, madam,” he said softly. He called the young man to himself and announced to him: “We lost her. We lost the baby as well.” “It was a stillbirth. We did all we could…I’m so sorry.”

“Nooooo!” Memuna screamed at the top of her voice. Nurses ran to her aid to console and comfort her. The young lover walked out of the hallway like a man sleepwalking or as one in a trance…as one hypnotised!

While the whole drama was going on, Omo’s lifeless body covered in white sheets was wheeled out of the theater to be taken to the morgue. At the door stood Ovie, her father. He had finally had a change of heart and had come to be by his family in this most trying and difficult time. He had seen the young man outside, who refused to utter a word to him. He heard Memuna’s shrill cry and saw her being comforted by the medical staff.

He saw a body being wheeled out of the theater. He beckoned on them to stop. He lifted up the sheets and looked at the lifeless body of Omo. He saw the innocent look on her face as though she were asleep. His eyes full of tears. He sobbed. He cried. He wept sore.

He passed out.