AT THE BREAK OF DAWN!

It was exactly 5 O’clock in the evening. I had cried for so long that the time did not seem to matter. “Is this how ten years will end? A certain feeling began to overwhelm me once more; tears trickled down my cheeks as I took a last long lingering look at the house where I had suddenly become a stranger. I picked up my hand bag and headed southwards.  

“I hope this emotion does not betray the strong woman in me” I whispered to myself as I twitched my nose to let the contents fly out in some nasty sound that seemed to be some soothing relief to my pains. I lay down under the Lagos Mainland Bridge as my thoughts paced back and forth within my battered body. Why am I a woman? Perhaps I could have fought him back with all my strength. If only I had enough strength to spare.

“Hey! Stop there! If you move I shoot! We have seen you, don’t you dare step an inch!” Some cold air sandwiched itself beneath my aching heart. I lay still, still like a dead log. This is doomsday! I imagined. Next was a shrill sound, “Help! Help! Help!” A scuffle followed and then a silent moment of bitter weeping… “I am dying, oh Jesus! Somebody help!”

When I perceived that everything had died down, I scrambled out of my stiff position and crawled towards the sound. Stealthily, I saw the little girl in great distress. Alas! She had been raped and was in a pool of blood. I bottled up my pains and carried her that night to the nearby hospital. My passion to see this young girl healthy and better gave me a soothing relief. Where do I get money to foot her bills? What do I do to fix my own battered life? These where far from my elemental conception.

My husband, John, had pushed me out and was savouring the love of another woman, yet I still seemed to have this side of me that loved him and our five year old son. Our country does not have enough laws for women of my circumstance; we only suffered in silence, the unmitigated battering of the men’s folk. In my wildest dreams, becoming a divorcee was the last thing on my mind.  Yet my only saving grace was that sheer providence had ushered me into the hands of a Non-Governmental Organization (NGO), CARING WOMEN, managed and run by a group of positive minded women I had met at the hospital. They gave both I and Chika, the girl that was raped adequate rehabilitation.

I picked up my life, got a new work and became a part of the CARING WOMEN. I gave some part of my salary to start another arm of the NGO that gave particular attention to young girls who were rape victims. The challenges thrown my way by virtue of this work made it sweeter than ever. One day, a car pulled up where I managed as my office. Two fellows came out. I was scared initially as I surveyed them carefully and behold, a certain man and my Uncle, Francis.

Seven years after my work at CARING WOMEN, and a year after the visit of my Uncle  and Mr Frank, I walked down the aisle again; this time with Mr. Frank, someone of  my like passion. Through my union with Mr Frank, though I still find it hard to believe, I became the First Lady of our State. It was at the break of dawn!

By

Chijindu Umunnakwe