EYIMOFEOLUWA

 EYIMOFEOLUWA 

Tears of joy rolled down my eyes as  

Eyimofeoluwa walked up the podium to give his speech having just been awarded the top best student for his Doctorate thesis. 

His thesis was not just the overall best only in theory, but in practicals as his thesis had proposed a cure to the dreaded Ebola virus. 

Here to celebrate him were representatives from top pharmaceuticals companies in the world, they were here to honour my son. 

I couldn't help my self as I stood amidst the teeming crowd to give my son, my hero, a befitting standing ovation. 

He took his place on the stage and silently whispered "I love you momma" in my direction,  just before he started his speech. 

*****************************************

I stared at the ceiling,  as I watched the ceiling fan run lazily and slowly, making a queaky sound as the motor and the down rod were in disagreement on how to run. 

Everything in the room was an eyesore. 

The queaky, soon to retire ceiling fan was the best feature of the consultation room cum operating room in this God forsaken hospital room. 

 The window panes were brown with years of accumulated dirt and negligence, covered with a shred of clothing that looks like a mad person's attire; a tattered excuse of a curtain.

I don't want to get started on the peeled and water-logged walls of the room.

I shut my eyes as I waited for the doctor to come work on me.  I am used to the procedure for I have done it too many times to not know what was coming. 

 I have lost count.

I have lost count of how many times I had lain in hospital beds like this,  with my feet held up in stirrups,  while a speculum is inserted in my vagina to open me up for the world to see my disgrace. As my cervix is held in place by a tenaculum, and the cannula that is connected to a suction device is inserted into the uterus to suction out the fetus and placenta.

I didn't study Medicine but I have experienced it too many times not to know the drill. 

 I am a regular customer of these instruments.  They know my body too well. 

Some days I am sedated,  other days I am not. 

I rolled my eyes and inwardly cursed Deji as it was my common practise to do each time I was snuffing life out of our unborn children.

So many times I would beg him to use protection,  but he'd swear that he would pull out fast, claiming he doesn't enjoy it with protection on.  

And there was a way he batted his lashes that weakens my resolve and I allow him in every damn time. 

I don't know how he does it but I am back on the operating bed weeks after he claimed to have pulled out. 

I guess you win some,  you lose some. 

I thought of how many pregnancies I have had to remove because I love Deji and I didn't want to lose him. 

 Deji is my life.  My existence.  I cherish him more than I should,  I know this was stupid but I just couldnt help it. 

Each time I asked him what we should do each time I got pregnant, he never disappointed me.  He is always quick to spit out the word "Abortion"  like it's some bitter pill in his mouth. 

Tears rolled down my eyes as I thought of how much of my life I was wasting away all in the name of being in a relationship with Deji. 

He cared too little for my life and health.  I am the one who gets operated on, whose body gets tampered with. 

Was it really worth it? 

Was he worth the sacrifice? 

Was he worth the trouble I go through just so he can run away from his fatherly responsibilities? 

I shook my head,  with the tears freely running down my eyes now. I thought and thought about my 4 years with Deji. It was a roller-coaster of emotions for me. 

There was nothing worth celebrating about my 4 years with Deji. 

He wasn't worth another going under the blade. 

And I decided there and then that I was going to keep this pregnancy,  no matter what it took. 

So i got down from the bed, packed my things and walked out of the dirty hospital. 

I dialed his number as I almost got to my gate, he picked at the third ring and whispered into the receiver ''How far? Through with it? "

"No. " I replied, my voice quaking as another bout of tears welled up in my throat. 

"WTF happened, Shalewa? "

"Nothing happened.  I just don't want to do it? "

"what do you mean you just don't want to do it? '' 

"I decided I am keeping this one. " I whispered not believing my own voice. 

Fuck! I heard him whisper, followed by an ''Excuse me! " Followed by a long silence. 

My declaration has truncated an important meeting,  that I am sure of. 

"Deji,  are you there? " I asked weakly. 

"you just made me walk out of an important meeting.  Shalewa. What do you mean by you are keeping it? What happened to the future we are building together?  You want to mess it up with a baby we can't cater for now? Why can't you reason like someone with brains for once in your life? "

Yeah!  Here he goes again with the blame apportioning. He is never to be blamed.  It's just me like I impregnate myself. 

"I am keeping it and that's final, Deji" I screamed at him. 

"Then I won't be responsible for it.  I can't be responsible for it. I am fucking not ready to be a father.  Shalewa,  reason this matter well na. "

"Deji,  I have made up my mind.  I am giving birth to my baby. "

"Then count me out if it.  " he blurted harshly and I heard the end call tone before I could say another word. 

I called and called. But he didn't picked. I sent him tons of messages Begging him to reconsider to no avail.  He just wouldn't listen to me. 

I cried so many nights cradling my growing bump, while I saw him flexing with his new catch on his status updates and IG posts. 

I was just too hurt to even think MenaSkum. In my opinion I was the scum who allowed him use me that way. 

Eyimofeoluwa came to the world 8 months after,  an healthy child that I was proud to call mine. I was happy I decided to allow him stay, hence the name I gave him... 

EYIMOFEOLUWA. This is the one I want. 

He was my life.  He took over my entire existence. 

I dedicated my life to raising him to be a better man, a man better than his excuse of a father. 

I met Oluwadare when Mofe was 3. He was all loved up until he found out I had a child.  He took to his heels. 

Gboyega wanted me to give him up for adoption or give him to a relative to take care of, if I wanted him to marry me.  

I kicked his butt to the curb. He could go to hell with his proposal for all I care.  I am not parting with my child for no man.

I watch him fondly as he grew into a man of strength,  valour and intelligence. 

Mofe made me proud every single day. 

He never stopped making me proud. And I never stopped loving him. 

************************************

Looking at him reel out his speech without having it penned down anywhere,  straight from his head,  was exhilarating. 

I pinched my nose to steady my reading glasses as the tears threatened to slip it down my nose. 

I sent a prayer upward.

I was grateful for the opportunity to birth this amazing enigma of a son.

Mofe finished his speech, shook hands with lots of notable persons I had only read about in the news and came to wrap me in a big hug. 

I hugged my gem tightly as the press man showered us with shots from different cameras. 

I can't wait to read about my son who has become a global hero in the news tomorrow. 

Ogbeni Aderonke Adeyeye 2018