Episode 5 – Beyond the Bloodline
Ngozi’s POV
I spent the night staring at the ceiling, sleep eluding me as the reality of my situation sank in deeper. The muffled voices of my roommates eventually faded into silence, but Kamara’s cruel words echoed in my mind, each one cutting like a blade.
Pregnant. The word itself felt alien, out of place in my life. I hadn’t done anything to make this possible—at least not knowingly. And yet, here I was, trapped in a nightmare that refused to make sense.
The Next Morning
Campus was buzzing, as usual, but it felt like the world had shifted for me. Everywhere I went, I could feel the weight of stares and hear the faint whispers that trailed behind me.
“Is that not Ngozi?” one girl whispered as I walked past.
“The Girls’ Guild leader? So, it’s true?” another replied, her voice tinged with mockery.
I quickened my pace, desperate to escape the eyes that seemed to follow me everywhere. I wanted to scream, to explain, to defend myself, but where would I even begin?
By the time I got back to the hostel, I was drained, both physically and emotionally. Chioma was waiting for me, her face a mix of concern and frustration.
“Ngozi, you can’t let people keep walking all over you. We need to figure this out,” she said firmly, pulling me into a chair.
Kamara, lounging on her bed with her phone, snickered. “What’s there to figure out? We already know the answer, don’t we?”
Chioma glared at her. “Kamara, mind your business for once!”
Kamara sat up, her smirk widening. “It’s funny how you’re all defending her. What’s the big deal? If she’s pregnant, she’s pregnant. At least own up to it instead of acting like an angel.”
“Kamara, just stop!” Chioma snapped.
But Kamara wasn’t done. She turned to me, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Don’t worry, Sister Ngozi. Maybe the Holy Spirit himself is responsible. Who knows? Your ‘Messiah’ might just be on the way.”
The room fell silent, and I felt my chest tighten. I wanted to say something, anything, but my words felt stuck in my throat.
That evening, as I tried to gather my thoughts, the hostel warden knocked on our door. Amaka opened it, and the stern expression on the warden’s face immediately put me on edge.
“Ngozi, may I have a word with you?” she asked, her tone devoid of warmth.
I stood up hesitantly, nodding. “Yes, ma.”
She sighed. “Ngozi, we’ve received information regarding your condition. I’m sure you’re aware of the hostel rules. Pregnant women are not permitted to stay here. You’ll need to vacate your space within a week.”
Her words hit me like a slap. I stared at her, my mind scrambling for a response. “But ma, I don’t… I mean, I don’t have anywhere else to go,” I stammered.
“That’s not my concern,” she said curtly. “You need to make alternative arrangements. Rules are rules.”
She walked away without another word, leaving me frozen in place.
I returned to my bed, sinking onto it as the weight of the situation bore down on me. Where would I go? Home wasn’t an option. I couldn’t face the humiliation of telling my family.
Renting an off-campus apartment was another impossibility. My pockets were practically empty, and the little money I had wouldn’t even cover a month’s rent.
Amaka sat beside me, her face etched with worry. “Ngozi, what are you going to do?”
I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. “I don’t know, Amaka. I don’t know.”
Chioma, ever the optimist, tried to offer comfort. “We’ll figure something out. Maybe we can talk to someone, find a way to appeal the decision.”
Kamara, of course, couldn’t resist throwing in her two cents. “Appeal what? The rules are clear. Pregnant women can’t stay in the hostel. What are you going to do? Beg them to change the rules just for you?”
Chioma turned on her, her patience finally snapping. “Kamara, can you just stop for once? Can’t you see she’s going through enough already?”
Kamara shrugged, unbothered. “I’m just being realistic. She should’ve thought about this before spreading her tiny legs.”
Amaka shot her a glare. “Kamara, leave the room if you don’t have anything helpful to say.”
Kamara scoffed but returned to scrolling on her phone.
The next day, as we discussed my options, Amaka suggested something that gave me a glimmer of hope.
“Ngozi, what if the test from the school clinic was wrong?” she said, her tone cautious.
Chioma nodded thoughtfully. “That’s true. The school clinic isn’t exactly known for its accuracy. Maybe we should go to another hospital and get a second opinion.”
I looked at them, the faintest flicker of hope igniting in my chest. “Do you think that’s possible? What if… what if this was all a mistake?”
Amaka placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “There’s only one way to find out. We’ll go together.”