Episode 13; Beyond the Bloodline
Ngozi’s POV
The days after my final exam passed in a blur. The relief of being done with the semester was short-lived, overshadowed by the constant whispers and stares that followed me everywhere. I had moved out of the school hostel, unable to bear the judgmental glances and cruel murmurs anymore. But even in my new environment—a friend’s off-campus apartment—I felt no peace.
The arrangement was temporary. My friend had agreed to let me stay for three months, but I knew I couldn’t impose on her forever. The weight of my shame grew heavier each day. There were no answers, no way to explain what had happened to me, and no path forward that I could see.
One sunny afternoon, the thoughts that had been creeping in for weeks finally took over. I couldn’t fight them anymore.
One Sunny afternoon, I found a quiet, lonely spot in a bushy area far from any prying eyes. The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting patterns on the ground, but it brought me no comfort. My heart felt like a stone in my chest as I sat down and opened my notebook.
With trembling hands, I began to write.
“To my friends, church, and everyone I have disappointed,
I am deeply sorry. I never imagined my life would take such a turn. I can’t explain how I got here, and I can’t bear the shame anymore. To my dear friend who took me in, please forgive me for any inconvenience I’ve caused you. I didn’t want to burden you further, which is why I’ve chosen this lonely place. I hope no one has to move my body or deal with any trouble because of me.
To God,
I thought you saw everything. I thought you knew it all. I served you diligently, and yet you allowed this to happen to me. I don’t want to blame you, but I can’t carry this humiliation any longer. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. When I meet you, I trust you’ll have an explanation for all this.”
Tears blurred my vision as I wrote the last lines. The pain was unbearable, yet I felt a strange sense of calm knowing it would soon be over.
I whispered my last prayer, clasping my hands tightly. “God, I leave everything in your hands. Please forgive me.”
I reached for the concoction I had carefully mixed, ready to drink it. Just as I raised the bottle to my lips, my phone rang.
The sound startled me, and for a moment, I froze. The caller ID flashed—it was Chioma, my former roommate from the hostel. The phone rang again and again, but I hesitated. Finally, I sighed and picked it up, deciding to say goodbye for the last time.
“Hello, Ngozi,” her familiar voice echoed.
I tried to keep my tone neutral. “Chioma, why are you calling me now?”
“Why am I calling you? We agreed to go back to that hospital where you tried to treat yourself earlier to get answers. You didn’t show up. Why?”
“Chi, you won’t understand…” I began, but she interrupted me.
“Ngozi, listen! I read some news today. A certain couple is suing that hospital for negligence in their IVF procedure. Do you know how much they’re asking for? One hundred million naira! Can you imagine?”
Her words hit me like a thunderbolt. “What? Are you sure about this? Please share the source with me on WhatsApp. I need to verify if it’s the same hospital.”
As soon as the call ended, my heart raced uncontrollably. Moments later, the link popped up on my phone. I clicked it, and there it was—the name of the hospital.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “It’s them.”
I rushed back home, clutching my phone tightly. My roommates were already at the door, waiting for me.
“Where have you been?” Amaka demanded, her arms crossed.
“I… I…” I stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence.
“Since when did you become a stammarer?” Chioma teased, but her tone turned serious as she added, “Ngozi, what’s that thing you’re holding?”
“It’s nothing,” I said quickly, trying to hide the bottle.
“Nothing? Then why are you hiding it?” Amaka asked, stepping closer.
Before I could react, Chioma grabbed the bottle from my hand. Her eyes widened in shock. “Ngozi, is this what I think it is? Were you really going to….”
I looked down, unable to meet her gaze. Tears streamed down my face. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean it this way. I just… I felt helpless and confused.”
Amaka gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Ngozi, how could you? Have you forgotten who you are? Just a little trial, and you’re ready to give up? This isn’t the Ngozi we know.”
Chioma placed a hand on my shoulder, her voice trembling with emotion. “Ngozi, you didn’t even think about us. Do you know how devastated we would have been? You’re not alone in this.”
“I’m sorry, girls,” I said, my voice breaking. “I didn’t know what else to do. The shame… it’s too much.”
Amaka pulled me into a tight hug, her voice firm. “You’ve been through a lot, but this isn’t the way out. We’ll face this together, okay? No more running. No more giving up.”
Chioma nodded, wiping her own tears. “Ngozi, you need help. Someone to talk to. This is too much for you to handle alone.”
Their support broke through the walls I had built around myself, and for the first time in weeks, I felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, I could face this storm and come out stronger on the other side.
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