Chaik wanted to shame his ex-wife by inviting her to his big wedding. He thought she would come looking sad and broken, but when Ngozi arrived in a shiny black Rolls Royce with three little boys holding her hands, everyone froze. The same woman he once called barren, now had triplets.
And that was just the beginning. Once upon a time, in the busy city of Inugu, there lived a man named Chaik. He was a wealthy businessman in his early thirties.
Everyone in the town knew him as a man who loved money, cars, and power. Chaik wore expensive suits, drove the newest cars, and walked with his head high as if the ground was not good enough for his shoes. He was proud, loud, and always wanted people to respect him.
But behind the big house, behind the gold watch on his wrist, there was a part of his life that made him angry every single day. His wife Ngozi had no children. Ngozi was a quiet and gentle woman.
She was beautiful, with smooth brown skin and soft eyes that carried sadness most of the time. She had married Chaik out of love, not for his money, and for seven years she stood by his side. But those seven years became years of pain, because every month she waited, and every month the news was the same.
No child. One evening, the storm that had been building in their marriage finally broke. The house was quiet, the air thick with tension.
Ngozi sat at the edge of the bed, her hands clasped tightly together. Chaik entered the bedroom with a frown, his tie pulled loose, his voice heavy with irritation. Seven years, Ngozi.
Chaik shouted, slamming his car keys on the dresser. Seven years of waiting and still no child. Do you want me to die without an heir? Ngozi lifted her eyes slowly, her voice trembling.
Chaik, I have tried. We have tried. It is not in my hands.
Maybe we should see another doctor. Maybe there is still hope. Hope.
Chaik laughed bitterly. Is that what you have been telling yourself? I am tired of hope. My mother calls me every day to ask why you have not given me a son.
My friends laugh behind my back. Do you know how it feels to be mocked as a man with no child? You have turned me into a fool. Ngozi’s eyes filled with tears.
Please, do not speak like that. I am your wife. We made a vow before God.
We said for better, for worse. Why do you throw it at me like I am nothing? Chaik’s voice grew louder. Because you are nothing to me now.
What is a woman who cannot bear children? You eat my food, wear my clothes, ride in my car. Yet you cannot give me one son to carry my name. Ngozi, you are a curse in my life.
Ngozi’s lips shook as she tried to speak. Do not call me a curse. I have prayed.
I have cried. I go to bed every night begging God to give us a child. I am not happy, Chaik.
Do you think it gives me joy to be like this? I am in pain too. Chaik turned his back, pacing the room like a lion in a cage. His anger burned hotter with every word.
Enough of your tears. I am done waiting. I will not allow you to waste my life.
Tomorrow I will speak to my lawyer. This marriage is finished. Ngozi gasped as if her chest had been struck.
