As the wind violently caressed her threadbare nightwear that night, she cursed her with every breath. The rains were threatening to release its anger. Somehow, Stella had hoped her aunty's stony heart would be human enough to ask her in as the storms came, but this was far from it. She knocked over and again, screamed and cried really hard, but it was all in vain.
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The night's cold had penetrated every part of her body as she lay all curled up in a corner of the varenda awaiting day break. This always happened when her uncle was away on his usual trips. His wife was so consistent at making her remember her place as a nobody in her home.
“Oya, get up and get ready to open the shop” her aunt's deep baritone voice woke her up. She quickly got up. About to walk into the house, she felt a heavy force on her shoulder that sent her back immediately.
“ Where are you going? Get your clothes, dress up and leave” She yelled.
Stella stood in shock, watching as her aunty made gentle steps back to the house. Tears came rolling down, again. She didn't know what she did to ignite the kind of hatred she had for her. The day her parents died and her uncle brought her home, she could have sworn she was an angel, but it didn't take long before she began to show all of that was a fluke.
Mrs Okon, Stella's aunt, sat there before the doctor. Nothing had changed. The fibroid had gotten really bad, and it would take a miracle for her to have the baby successfully. For the first time after five years of marriage, she got pregnant, only to be welcomed with the news of fibroid.
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The entire compound was a beehive of people paying condolence visits. The ones fixed to a corner crying and weeping, the ones speaking in inaudible tones with faces looking embittered as if to say something they didn't dare say, and Stella, who knew her stay in the house would be cut short.
Stella guessed right.
She had to leave the house. Feeding both Stella and her baby would be too much responsibility. Just before her husband passed, Mrs Okon delivered a baby boy.
“Let Stella come home with me,” Nneka, Stella's uncle’s older sister, said.
She couldn't hesitate. The child wasn't hers to start with, and leaving her house would be an escape from her endless despair.
Bit by bit, Mrs Okon was dispossessed of nearly everything after her husband's death. The car, the shop,and eventually the house. Several court cases couldn't save her because her husband didn't write a will. Taking care of her little son became a huge task.
She had to do something.
Nelly was her old time friend, and had sworn to take care of her son. Mrs Okon believed her words, just like the elders believed her when they handed Stella over to her.
Soon, the past came hunting.
David, Mrs Okon’s son, did the chores around the house. He was the oldest of the children in the house, always working really hard till late at night. Nelly didn't care if he was well fed or not, provided he did his chores. Whenever she spoke to his mother, she assured her he was fine.
Itam market was Mrs Okon's regular stop. She sold crayfish there just to make ends meet. She had just arrived when she saw someone move past with a transparent bucket of sachet water, looking frail and dirty. She could have sworn it wasn't him, but then, she couldn't miss him. She stepped out of her shed to confirm her suspicion.
It was her son!
Pain, anger and disappointment all mixed together, grew in her. She wanted to storm Nelly's house immediately, but she restrained herself. She channeled the energy to getting the boy something to eat, first. David hurriedly attacked the rice like someone who had not tasted food in a long while.
That day, nobody could explain her tears at the market. Her eyes had gone red and sore. She was certain her past had come for her. She remembered Stella. The night's she left her in the cold, hungry. The scars she had tattooed on her back, all of it. She knew karma, but never guessed it would find her that soon.
She didn't have the guts to face Nelly, her friend. After all, both of them were cut from the same piece. David was better off at Nelly's place. In her sleep, she saw the face again. The same face which emerged from the dark, staring , and giving her an hysterical laugh that made her wake up panting seriously.
The next week at the market, she saw her son again. This time, his face had been tattooed with a similar scar she had given Stella, so she knew too well, even though the boy tried to be conservative about the truth.
She had had enough. She didn't try to fight or confront Nelly. She only asked for her son to be released to her. David packed his things and they went home together.