Life Of A Naija Girl

28

Dedicated to FeranmiDosunmu Thanks for the nice comments 💛

**

Ogeh

Each day that passed at the rehabilitation center took away a piece of my life I would never be able to reclaim back.

Or so I thought.

Everyday, I wished that things had turned out differently. I wished that I had made better decisions and at least, was normal.

I wasn't though. And the events that panned out in the last few weeks proved it.

The days spent at the hospital were the worst. I was always crying and barely got any sleep. My head constantly ached from overthinking and I was so swollen. I had lost the pregnancy due to my frequent high blood pressure and was later taken to a rehabilitation center. The doctors and my family thought it would help me and my trauma.

The irony was that I wasn't sad about losing the pregnancy. I was happy. As crazy as it might sound, losing that child made me believe that I could move past this phase of my life and somehow get back on track.

Mom had made the decision that I continue my education outside the boarders of Nigeria. Ireland, to be precise. Her and I were moving there since my oldest brother, Ebuka schooled there as well.

Things had changed. My family had been divided. Nonso was staying in Nigeria because of his job and relationship. His girlfriend, Gbemi, was very nice. She often visited and made meals for me while I was at the hospital.

Kene had relocated to Enugu to live with my maternal grandparents. There, he would complete his A-Level and university education.

My mom didn't want him in jail which was understandable. He was her son and he was my brother. It wouldn't have been fair if he was the only one sentenced for a crime we both committed. That was what the police had wanted.

Knowing the impartial and whack state of our legal system, the Nigerian police always tried to be unfair. They wanted him imprisoned while I was left alone.

Mom said it was a "family issue" and she could solve it herself. Her demands were persistent so they let it slide. Of course, not without her paying them off with a hefty amount of money.

People from school eventually found out about the situation after someone at the hospital thought it would be a great idea if the story of my life was uploaded on Instablog9ja. A few of them recognized me in the video and started circulating stories around themselves.

Fortunately for me, I was never going to face those people again to have them ridicule me. The shame was subliminal which was alright.

Although a few former classmates called and empathized, I knew a lot of them spoke unfiltered things about me. Couldn't blame them to be honest.

Noah and I spoke occasionally but I knew our bond had strained. He seemed cautious with his words and didn't say much. I knew for a fact that he cared about me but couldn't look pass my behavior. Understandable.

His mom said he was busy away preparing for his finals when she dropped off my awards along with my WAEC result and diploma one September evening after I had returned from the rehab center.

I heard about Dara only seldom times from Noah. He didn't say much about her.

I often worried about her because I didn't want her to blame herself for my situation. She said she wished she had alerted my mom about my cuts sooner but I continuously told her it wasn't her fault.