Episode 6: Beyond the Bloodline
Kemi’s POV
I was on my way to the hospital for the procedure. Today was the day I had been waiting for—the day I hoped would finally bring light to the darkness in my life. I left home early, determined to beat the traffic. For once, I felt optimistic.
But fate had other plans.
I was barely halfway to the hospital when I encountered a terrible gridlock. A driver had hít an elderly woman in what seemed to be a hit-and-run attempt, and chaos ensued. People surrounded the car, blocking the road completely, and the driver, in his panic, only made things worse. I sat there, gripping the steering wheel, feeling helpless. Vehicles quickly piled up behind me, cutting off any chance of escape.
I picked up my phone to call my husband, Jide, but he was on a business trip and couldn’t take my call. I felt abandoned, trapped in the worst way possible. Tears began to well up in my eyes as I realized what was at stake.
This wasn’t just any appointment. This was my last chance at the one thing I had prayed for, cried for- a child.
I cried silently, the tears running down my cheeks and soaking the neckline of my dress. As I sat in the car, memories of my struggle came flooding back.
Jide and I had been married for six years. I was barely 18 when we got married, full of hope and dreams of building a family together. But six years had passed, and there was no child to show for it.
The pressure from my mother-in-law had been unbearable. Initially, she brought us all kinds of herbs, insisting they would “fix” whatever was wrong. When those didn’t work, she took us to herbalists and diviners. I’ll never forget one of them claiming my father was the cause of my barrenness, accusing him of being an occúltist who sacríficed babies for wealth. That day, Jide and I had barely held in our laughter. I never knew my dad so what was the man talking about? When we got home, we made a pact never to visit another herbalist or diviner again.
But the tension with my mother-in-law only grew worse. She accused me of being careléss in my youth, claiming I must have done something to ruin my womb. She even brought other women to the house, encouraging Jide to marry them instead, insisting they were “fertile.”
Through it all, Jide remained my rock. He defended me fiercely, reminding his mother that I had been with him from the start and had never given him any reason to doubt me. His love was the only thing that kept me going, but even his patience had its limits.
Eventually, we turned to medical science for answers. Test after test revealed no issues with either of us, yet nothing worked. Finally, after years of heartbreak, we decided to try IVF.
As I sat in the gridlock, my desperation grew. I wiped my tears and considered abandoning my car and walking to the hospital, but it was still 20 kilometers away—impossible to reach on foot.
Hours later, the Nigerian army arrived and dispersed the crowd, allowing traffic to flow again. I breathed a sigh of relief and resumed my journey, though the delay had already ruined my carefully planned schedule.
By the time I arrived at the hospital, I was emotionally and physically drained. I apologized profusely to the receptionist, explaining the traffic situation.
She looked at me strangely. “But ma, you just left here a few hours ago,” she said.
I frowned, confused. “I don’t understand. I just got here. What are you talking about?”
The receptionist’s expression hardened. “Madam, you were here this morning. We already attended to you.”
Her words sent a chill down my spine. “What? I wasn’t here this morning. This is my first time today. Maybe you’re confusing me with someone else,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm.
The receptionist shook her head firmly. “Ma, according to the records, you came in, completed the procedure, and left. Please excuse me; I need to attend to other patients.”
“Can I at least speak to Doctor Ann?” I asked, my voice trembling. “She knows I’m coming.”
The receptionist looked up briefly. “I’m sorry, but Dr. Ann has already left for the day. She won’t be back until Thursday.”
I stared at her in disbelief. None of this made sense. How could they claim I had already been there when I hadn’t?
I pulled out my phone and tried calling Dr. Ann’s number, but it was unreachable. Panic surged through me.
Slumping into one of the waiting chairs, I tried to process what was happening. Was this some kind of cruel joke?
Suddenly, an idea struck me. I jumped to my feet and rushed toward the inner corridors of the hospital, ignoring the protests of the receptionist and the nurses. “Dr. Ann!” I screamed, my voice echoing down the hallway. “Where is Dr. Ann?”
The nurses ran after me, trying to restrain me, but I kept pushing forward, searching frantically.
“Madam, please stop!” one of them shouted.
I ignored them, desperation giving me strength.
“She’s gone mental!” I heard one nurse whisper to another. “This woman was here this morning, and now she’s claiming something else. Hold her well o, make she no bite person!”
Their words stung, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was the truth.
Finally, they managed to drag me back to the waiting area, pinning my arms to keep me from escaping again. Tears streamed down my face as I screamed, “What is going on here? What did you do to me?”
But no one had answers.
As they escorted me out of the hospital, I felt defeated, confused, and utterly broken. Something terrible had happened, and I didn’t know how to fix it.
Jide wasn’t answering his phone, and the weight of everything threatened to crush me.
I sat in my car for what felt like hours, trying to piece together the fragmented events of the day.
“God,” I whispered through my tears. “What is happening to me?”