04/03/2026
Episode 6
Two years after “The End”
I thought the story don finish.
I thought once the family picture complete, the rest na just to dey enjoy.
Life no dey sign contract like that.
Last month, Diamond came home from school with plenty tears.
“Daddy, they said my mummy na ashawo before. That she run leave me for hospital. That you pick her from the gutter.”
Primary 5 children. Mouth like razorblade.
I froze for kitchen. The spoon wey I dey use fry plantain fall inside oil. Hot oil splash my hand, I no even feel am.
Amaka was in the salon that evening doing one bride’s bridal hair, so na only me and Diamond siddon for parlour.
She was looking at me like say if I no talk correct thing now, something inside her go break forever.
I carried her, put her for my lap like when she small.
“Baby, listen. Everybody get past. Some past fine, some past ugly. Your mummy past no clean, true. But the woman wey dey wake 4 a.m. to press your uniform, the woman wey use her night to learn online course so she fit pay your school fees, the woman wey kneel down beg God every night make you never suffer wetin she suffer — that woman na the one wey dey here now. Past no be CV wey you must submit every day. Na something wey Jesus don tear.”
She quiet small, then asked, “But why people no fit forget?”
“Because dem no be God,” I said. “Only God fit delete file completely. Human being dey keep screenshot.”
That night when Amaka came back, bone tired, Diamond herself went to meet her at the door.
“Mummy, some children said bad things about you today.”
Amaka legs just cut. She sat down for floor, back to the wall, waiting for the blow.
Diamond sat beside her.
“I told them my mummy na the strongest woman for this whole world. Because she fall before, but she stand up again, brush her dress, and come back to carry me. Anybody wey no like am, na dem get problem.”
Amaka start to cry. Not small cry. The type that ’ve been locked inside chest for years.
I stood for door, watching my two women hold each other for parlor floor. Mama Amaka came out from her room, saw them, and just started speaking in tongues again.
Later that night, when everywhere quiet, Amaka came to our room, closed the door soft.
“Chukwudi, I think say everything don finish. Say the past don die. But e still dey wake up to bite me.”
I pulled her close.
“Listen. The past no go ever die. E go just dey lose teeth small small. One day e go only fit gum you, no be bite again.”
She nodded, then asked the question wey fear to ask for two years.
“If tomorrow they tell Diamond everything — the Yaba, the running, the men, all the dirty — you think she go still call me Mummy?”
I no lie.
“I no know tomorrow. But I know today. And today she choose you. Every day she go wake up and choose you again. That na the miracle wey God give us. We no fit control people mouth, but we fit control wetin we do with our own hands every new morning.”
She quiet for long, then said,
“I wan do something.”
“Wetin?”
“I wan go back to that hospital where I born her and left her. I wan find any nurse wey still dey there, beg them pardon face to face. I wan start to talk for small small groups — women wey get postpartum depression, women wey run, women wey people don write off. I no wan hide again. If the past wan follow me, make e follow me for front, no for back.”
I looked at this woman wey I think say I don know finish.
“You sure?”
She smiled, the first fearless smile I don see for her face since we start this journey.
“I don tire to dey fear my own shadow.”
Three weeks later.
The salon now get small room for back where every Thursday night, ten, twelve, sometimes fifteen women siddon for plastic chairs. Some bring pikin, some come alone. Amaka go close the shutter, put kettle for tea, and dem go talk. Real talk. The type wey make you cry, laugh, and fear all at once.
She no dey preach. She just dey tell her own story — raw, no filter.
And every night after the meeting, one or two women go stay behind and whisper, “I think say na only me.”
Diamond now dey help serve biscuits and Milo. She dey call the women “Aunty Courage.”
Last Thursday, one young girl of 23 wey never born before asked Amaka,
“Aunty, how you take forgive yourself?”
Amaka look her for eye and answer:
“I never forgive myself complete. I just dey forgive myself small small every day. Forgiveness no be one day event. Na daily subscription.”
Then she come add:
“But the day I stop waiting make the past commot my body before I love my daughter — that day be the day I start to heal.”
I stand for door that night, listening. My chest big like say I swallow drum.
Moral Lesson
1. Broken no mean finished.
The past no go die, but e fit lose power the day you stop hiding from am and start walking with am in the open.
2. Forgiveness na three people matter: you forgive person wey hurt you, you forgive yourself wey hurt person, and you allow the people wey love you forgive you again every new day.
3. Children no need perfect parents. Dem need parents wey dey try again tomorrow. That one dey enough.
4. Sometimes the strongest thing a woman (or man) fit do na to stand up, face the shame, and use am to light road for another person wey still dey inside darkness.
If this one touch you, type AMEN make God heal every hidden wound wey you never tell person.
Tag that friend wey you know say dey smile outside but dey bleed inside.
Follow Relationship Solutions – Because redemption no get expiry date. ❤️🙏
The real end… until life write another chapter.
