MOTHER ABANDONED HER BABY BY THE RIVERBANK
EPISODE 7
Life in Lagos should have felt like a new beginning for Oma. The bustling city lights, the well-furnished apartment Michael provided, and the comfort of knowing she was loved should have filled the void in her heart.
But nothing seemed to touch the emptiness that had settled in her soul. Michael was a good man—attentive, supportive, and kind. He made sure she lacked nothing.
They went on outings, visited parks, ate at expensive restaurants. From the outside, theirs was a beautiful love story.
But for Oma, it was like living inside a glass house. Everything looked perfect, yet one emotional crack threatened to shatter it all. The memory of her baby girl haunted her, silently threading itself through every moment of her new life.
When Michael noticed it, he brought it up one evening after dinner. "Oma, why don’t you go back to school? You’ve always wanted to study. Maybe that will help you loosen up.
She stared at him with wide eyes, unsure how to respond. She obtained a form and began university. Each morning, she left home dressed in modest clothes, blending into a sea of youthful students. She took the bus, attended lectures, read until late into the night. She studied sociology.
At school, her brilliance began to shine. Her lecturers praised her essays. She found new confidence in discussions, and some of her course mates even looked up to her like a big sister. Michael was so proud of her. Years passed.
She was in her fourth and final year when she discovered she was pregnant again. Michael was overjoyed. Nine months later, she gave birth to a healthy baby boy. They named him Chibuikem, meaning, God is my strength.
Michael beamed with pride, and even Oma, for a fleeting moment, felt joy ripple through her. Oma sang to him, held him, rocked him to sleep. But the shadow remained.
Every time she held Chibuikem, she imagined Chiwendu’s face, the baby girl she left crying by the riverbank. Every time Chibuikem smiled, it reminded her of the smile she never saw her daughter give. She still refused to tell Michael the truth, even though she knew he deserved to know
At night, she would sneak out of bed and cry silently on the bathroom floor. She often looked at herself in the mirror, wondering if motherhood would ever feel complete.
Her arms were full, but her heart was not. She longed to return to Umu Oma, to stand by the river again, to speak to the wind and beg for forgiveness.
One day, Michael touched her face gently as they lay in bed. "You’re always far away, Oma. Even when you smile. Where do you go?" She forced a laugh. "Nowhere. Just tired." He believed her. But deep down, he knew something was missing. Something she wasn’t telling him.
Back to the ev!l forest, eight years had passed since Ujunwa found Chiwendu whom she named Ifunanya. Ifunanya had grown into a radiant girl—sharp-eyed, full of questions, and wise beyond her years.
Her laughter filled the forest hut. Ujunwa had taught her everything she knew. Divination. Herbal healing. How to whisper to the forest and listen to the wind. Ifunanya absorbed it all like the earth drinks rain.
To Ujunwa, she was no longer a child found in grief—she was a daughter born of destiny. Ujunwa had resigned to fate and settled for the forest, but one morning, everything changed.
She had risen early, as always, to gather herbs from the southern slope of the forest. As she bent over a bed of bitterleaf, she suddenly froze. A warm breeze swept past her, and then, a voice deep, echoed in her ears.
“Go back to Umu Oma… it is time.” She gasped, falling backward onto the ground. The leaves trembled around her. Her hands gripped her staff tightly as she looked around, but no one was there.
That night, she knelt by the fire, watching Ifunanya sleep. Could it be the gods calling her home? The same gods whose name had been used to banish her? Or had destiny circled back?
By morning, her mind was made up. “Ifunanya,” she said gently as she woke the girl. “Get dressed, my love. We’re going on a journey.” “To where?” Ifunanya asked, blinking. “Home,” Ujunwa whispered.
They packed a small bag with herbs, and clothes and then set out. Ujunwa didn’t know the way, but somehow, they kept moving. The journey through the forest took them two days.
At dawn on the third day, the villagers saw two figures, emerging from the shadows of the evil forest. Gasps rang out. Women held their wrappers. Children peeked from behind doorways. Few of the villagers recognized Ujunwa
Whispers swirled through Umu Oma like a rising storm. The return of Ujunwa from the dreaded forest was shocking enough. But the unfamiliar girl beside her, ignited even deeper curiosity.
People gathered in clusters, exchanging wild guesses, their eyes fixed on the woman once branded a curse.
But Ujunwa didn’t stop to answer questions. She walked with quiet authority straight to the palace, her staff tapping against the earth with every determined step.
Ifunanya walked quietly beside her. When they reached the palace gate, the head of the guards who recognized her, was shocked. No one had seen Ujunwa in eight years, and none had expected her return.
“I need to speak to the king,” she said calmly. Moments later, word reached the king and she was let in.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Dear readers, you can't know the extent to which keeping a secret could affect you mentally, eating away at your peace and well-being. Consider opening up to someone you trust – it might be the relief you need.
MOTHER ABANDONED HER BABY BY THE RIVERBANK
EPISODE 7
Life in Lagos should have felt like a new beginning for Oma. The bustling city lights, the well-furnished apartment Michael provided, and the comfort of knowing she was loved should have filled the void in her heart.
But nothing seemed to touch the emptiness that had settled in her soul. Michael was a good man—attentive, supportive, and kind. He made sure she lacked nothing.
They went on outings, visited parks, ate at expensive restaurants. From the outside, theirs was a beautiful love story.
But for Oma, it was like living inside a glass house. Everything looked perfect, yet one emotional crack threatened to shatter it all. The memory of her baby girl haunted her, silently threading itself through every moment of her new life.
When Michael noticed it, he brought it up one evening after dinner. "Oma, why don’t you go back to school? You’ve always wanted to study. Maybe that will help you loosen up.
She stared at him with wide eyes, unsure how to respond. She obtained a form and began university. Each morning, she left home dressed in modest clothes, blending into a sea of youthful students. She took the bus, attended lectures, read until late into the night. She studied sociology.
At school, her brilliance began to shine. Her lecturers praised her essays. She found new confidence in discussions, and some of her course mates even looked up to her like a big sister. Michael was so proud of her. Years passed.
She was in her fourth and final year when she discovered she was pregnant again. Michael was overjoyed. Nine months later, she gave birth to a healthy baby boy. They named him Chibuikem, meaning, God is my strength.
Michael beamed with pride, and even Oma, for a fleeting moment, felt joy ripple through her. Oma sang to him, held him, rocked him to sleep. But the shadow remained.
Every time she held Chibuikem, she imagined Chiwendu’s face, the baby girl she left crying by the riverbank. Every time Chibuikem smiled, it reminded her of the smile she never saw her daughter give. She still refused to tell Michael the truth, even though she knew he deserved to know
At night, she would sneak out of bed and cry silently on the bathroom floor. She often looked at herself in the mirror, wondering if motherhood would ever feel complete.
Her arms were full, but her heart was not. She longed to return to Umu Oma, to stand by the river again, to speak to the wind and beg for forgiveness.
One day, Michael touched her face gently as they lay in bed. "You’re always far away, Oma. Even when you smile. Where do you go?" She forced a laugh. "Nowhere. Just tired." He believed her. But deep down, he knew something was missing. Something she wasn’t telling him.
Back to the ev!l forest, eight years had passed since Ujunwa found Chiwendu whom she named Ifunanya. Ifunanya had grown into a radiant girl—sharp-eyed, full of questions, and wise beyond her years.
Her laughter filled the forest hut. Ujunwa had taught her everything she knew. Divination. Herbal healing. How to whisper to the forest and listen to the wind. Ifunanya absorbed it all like the earth drinks rain.
To Ujunwa, she was no longer a child found in grief—she was a daughter born of destiny. Ujunwa had resigned to fate and settled for the forest, but one morning, everything changed.
She had risen early, as always, to gather herbs from the southern slope of the forest. As she bent over a bed of bitterleaf, she suddenly froze. A warm breeze swept past her, and then, a voice deep, echoed in her ears.
“Go back to Umu Oma… it is time.” She gasped, falling backward onto the ground. The leaves trembled around her. Her hands gripped her staff tightly as she looked around, but no one was there.
That night, she knelt by the fire, watching Ifunanya sleep. Could it be the gods calling her home? The same gods whose name had been used to banish her? Or had destiny circled back?
By morning, her mind was made up. “Ifunanya,” she said gently as she woke the girl. “Get dressed, my love. We’re going on a journey.” “To where?” Ifunanya asked, blinking. “Home,” Ujunwa whispered.
They packed a small bag with herbs, and clothes and then set out. Ujunwa didn’t know the way, but somehow, they kept moving. The journey through the forest took them two days.
At dawn on the third day, the villagers saw two figures, emerging from the shadows of the evil forest. Gasps rang out. Women held their wrappers. Children peeked from behind doorways. Few of the villagers recognized Ujunwa
Whispers swirled through Umu Oma like a rising storm. The return of Ujunwa from the dreaded forest was shocking enough. But the unfamiliar girl beside her, ignited even deeper curiosity.
People gathered in clusters, exchanging wild guesses, their eyes fixed on the woman once branded a curse.
But Ujunwa didn’t stop to answer questions. She walked with quiet authority straight to the palace, her staff tapping against the earth with every determined step.
Ifunanya walked quietly beside her. When they reached the palace gate, the head of the guards who recognized her, was shocked. No one had seen Ujunwa in eight years, and none had expected her return.
“I need to speak to the king,” she said calmly. Moments later, word reached the king and she was let in.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Dear readers, you can't know the extent to which keeping a secret could affect you mentally, eating away at your peace and well-being. Consider opening up to someone you trust – it might be the relief you need.
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