An egg and a tadpole came together to bring me into being one stormy night. The result of sweet nothings and false promises , sweet deceit and the folly of youth and the heat of lust. A young innocent teenage girl born into poverty and the sweet promises of a Sugar Daddy, wiser in the ways of the world. He had met her on her way back from school one hot afternoon, walking home bare foot, tattered uniform, an old bag containing tattered note books and head bowed in hopelessness. Sent out from school because her school fees hadn’t been paid, where would the money have come from? Her father had been sick for as long as she could remember and her mother managed her little farm and petty trade but that was not enough to support her nine children, a sick husband and extended family members. Her name was Hope and she wore a torn uniform and worn sandals to school. That sunny afternoon, her worn rubber sandals had given way ,leaving her with no choice but to walk home swinging the sandals in her hands, the earth burning the soles of her feet at the unforgiving heat of the sun.
Her meeting this older man who soon became her Sugar Daddy was a temporary relief, a bitter sweet temptation. After all some of her friends had these older men who bought them new uniforms , nice sandals, paid their school fees and helped their families in one way or the other with money and little gifts. Sugar Daddy was kind enough to help out. He paid her school fees and gave her money and little gifts in return for payment “in kind”. She now wore a nice uniform, a new school bag, new set of note books and new sandals to school. When she took home the little gifts Sugar Daddy had bought her and gave her mother money to pay for her father’s medicines and hospital bills, her mother had prayed and blessed this kind benefactor. Painful as it was, she had to ignore the thought of what her daughter could be doing in return for these benefits.
From the minute the egg and the tadpole met , I was formed and could feel. I was alive, could breath and had a heartbeat. I loved to play around my little world which was my mother’s womb and sometimes would cushion myself in her protection patiently awaiting the elapse of nine months before making my grand entrance into the world of mortals as I fed from my mother.
She found out about my existence and panicked to Sugar Daddy. He snapped at her from where he was seated on the bed with his round pot belly moving up and down as he panted and throwing money at her, ordered her to “take care” of herself. “You are not the first girl to get pregnant for a Sugar Daddy, you should have been more careful !” he scolded, cursing her.
Sobbing she picked up the money with shaky hands, knowing this was the end of her financial relief and help for her family. Other girls with Sugar Daddies sometimes did this when the need arose. At their advice, she had been taken to a “quack doctor” who owned a chemist and used the back room at the chemist for his consultation. She quickly resorted to tablets as prescribed which would cease my existence.
I had a strong will to live and even though the drugs could have destroyed me, I kept on growing. Once again she went to face the man with whom she had caused me to be. Amidst tears and pleading, she had reminded him that he was a part of the life growing inside her. Starring at her kneeling and weeping, he shook his head. According to Sugar Daddy, she was but a child and had dreams yet to be fulfilled, she has to finish school and now wasn’t a “convenient” time to bring a child into the world, more so he had no desire to add a new wife to the three he already had at home. Once again he had given her money and sent her away to “take care” of herself.
Glory’s case was different, she had been raped by an uncle who lived with the family. When her father had found out she was pregnant, he had beat her and threatened to disown her for bringing shame and disgrace to his family and good name. Who would have believed her if she had told them that Uncle with the big Bible was touching her and asking her to do inappropriate things with him? The few attempts Glory had made to confide in her mother about the wrong, had met with scolding and accusation on the gravity of bearing false witness and lying. When the after effect of the incestuous copulation had resulted in pregnancy, her mother had secretly rushed her to the “doctor” in the next town who was known to be discreet about such “things”. It had to be kept in the family and uncle had to “go away for a long time”.
In Pride’s case, she went to face the man with whom she had caused me to be. Amidst tears and pleading, he had reminded her of the love they had shared which had made both of them one and was growing inside her. He desired to put a ring on her finger. Starring at him bent on one knee, she shook her head. She explained she had dreams yet to be fulfilled and now wasn’t a “convenient” time to bring a child into the world. Blind to his tears, she had walked away and found a doctor who with vague answers and monosyllables had convinced her that I was just lumps of blood and had no life. She had a career and many other things ahead of her. Her boss was retiring soon and she was next in line for the big promotion. She would be the first lady boss in her company. She wouldn’t let such an opportunity pas her by because of me. Such golden opportunities sometimes came only once in a life time for many people.
Lying on the cold steel table, their hearts beating fast as they watched the doctor pick up his forceps, I begin to shiver and scream.“ I am not just a lump of blood like they claim! I am already a
human being ! I am a Child . From the day of my conception, I had life!” No one seems to hear my screams as I dodge the cold forceps trying to find me. My mother’s womb which was once my haven has now become a battle ground with me as the target and the forceps the Leviathan trying to destroy me. Was being alive due to no fault of mine, my crime? Did I deserve to die because it wasn’t convenient for my selfish Sugar Daddy Father, Independent mother or respectable family to nurture me? Again I scream as I run around my battle ground. “I did not beg to be conceived and now you want to crush me”.
Again I try to hide, but the forceps grab my two tiny threadlike legs and in a flash, rip them from my fragile body. The pain is excruciating and I can feel it. Placing the tiny ripped pieces on the sterilized tray the forceps return and this time ripping my little arms right to the back. Oh, the agony. My heart is still beating as the forceps return. This time I am too weak to escape as it grabs my skull crushing it with ease. My remains are flushed out of my haven as I breath my last.
Hovering above , I watch their faces as some pretend not to care once again and others weep at my loss. Would my blood forever be on their hands as they have deprived me of my existence ? Or would the moment just past like one simple mistake ? Would they ever wonder what I would have looked like if I had been born?