Episode 3 – Beyond the Bloodline
The first few days after my hospital visit felt like progress. The symptoms seemed to ease slightly, and I convinced myself that maybe the nurse was right. I just needed rest. But then, strange things began to happen.
It started with fatigue so overwhelming that I could barely stay awake during lectures. My body felt heavy, like I was carrying an invisible burden. The itching had returned, worse than before, and now there was an unfamiliar nausea that seemed to creep in every morning.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Ngozi?” Amaka asked one evening, watching me slump into bed after skipping dinner for the second time that week.
“I’m fine,” I mumbled, not even convincing myself.
But the truth was, I wasn’t fine. Something was wrong, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that my visit to the hospital had something to do with it.
The next day, I tried to shake off the lingering discomfort. Life didn’t slow down just because I was unwell, and with exams fast approaching, I had no choice but to push through. Amaka kept a close eye on me, always quick with her usual lectures about taking better care of myself. Chioma, on the other hand, had gone back to her usual mischief, cracking jokes and pretending like everything was normal.
I didn’t want to worry them. Whatever was wrong, I told myself it wasn’t serious. Maybe it was just stress. After all, this semester had been nothing short of a rollercoaster.
But deep down, something felt… off.
—
Exam day finally arrived. The tension in the air was palpable as students filed into the hall, clutching notebooks and whispering last-minute revisions to themselves. I found my seat near the back and tried to steady my nerves. My symptoms had eased slightly or so I convinced myself. I was determined to make it through.
The first hour went smoothly enough. I scribbled answers onto my sheet, my brain focused on the task at hand. But as the minutes ticked by, a familiar dizziness began to creep in. My stomach churned, and my head felt heavy, as if my body was protesting against the effort.
I paused, gripping the edge of the desk. Focus, Ngozi, I told myself. It’s probably just hunger. I hadn’t been eating well recently, relying on snacks and hurried meals to get by.
“Are you okay?” a voice whispered beside me. It was the girl sitting to my left, her brow furrowed with concern.
“I’m fine,” I whispered back, forcing a weak smile. But even as I said it, I wasn’t sure if it was true.
Somehow, I made it to the end of the exam, though I could barely remember what I wrote. As I left the hall, Amaka was waiting outside, her eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on me.
“You look terrible,” she said bluntly, stepping forward to steady me when I stumbled slightly. “Ngozi, you need to eat. This exam stress is killing you.”
“I’ll be fine,” I muttered, though my voice lacked conviction. I didn’t want to admit how scared I felt.
—
The next exam day came faster than I expected. By now, my body felt like it was running on fumes, but I dragged myself to the hall anyway. I told myself I couldn’t afford to miss the paper. It was one of the toughest of the semester, and I needed to pass.
The exam began, and I tried to focus, but the dizziness was worse this time. My hands trembled as I held my pen, and the words on the paper blurred before my eyes. My heart pounded in my chest, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead.
Suddenly, everything went black.
—
When I woke up, I was lying on a narrow bed in the school clinic. The fluorescent lights above me felt harsh and uninviting, and my head throbbed painfully. Amaka, Chioma, and a few of my coursemates were beside me, their faces pale with worry. I glanced toward the window and saw a few others outside, chatting excitedly.
I caught snippets of their conversation.
“Omo, that girl just dey act funny these days,” one of them said.
“She no fit withstand the heat of the exam. Na why she faint,” another replied.
“Abi she don get belle? All these Holy nwa eje girls, you can’t tell,” someone added with a laugh.
“Haba, Breda! Ngozi is not like that. This your mouth go land you for gbese one day ooh. Let’s keep our arms crossed,” another voice countered.
It finally dawned on me that they were talking about me. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. This couldn’t be happening. Somebody wake me up from this nightmare.
“She’s awake,” Amaka said, her voice filled with relief.
“Ngozi, what happened to you?” Chioma asked, but before I could answer, the doctor walked in.
He was holding a clipboard, his expression unreadable. “Ngozi, how are you feeling?”
“Dizzy,” I replied weakly. “What happened to me?”
The doctor sat down beside me. “You collapsed in the exam hall. We had to run some tests to figure out what’s going on.”
His tone made my stomach tighten. “I did what? In the exam hall? I’m finished. Please, doctor, what is actually wrong with me? Please tell me.”
He hesitated, his eyes flickering between me and my roommates before he dropped the bómbshell that is going to shape my life forever. “Ngozi… you’re a few weeks gone.”
The words hit me like a thunderclap. For a moment, I thought I’d misheard him. “What?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Amaka gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Gone where? How? I don’t understand!”
Chioma’s jaw dropped. “This can’t be true.”
The doctor nodded solemnly “The test results are clear. Ngozi, you’re about four weeks pregnant.”
Deafening Silence fell in the entire room as if a ghóst has just passed.