A few months later, Amoke discovered she was pregnant. To be certain, she asked that they visit the hospital together. Their hearts overflowed with joy when the result confirmed it. Yet, deep within, Amoke felt a strange sense of déjà vu as though she had lived this moment once before. She chose to keep the thought to herself, simply smiling warmly at her husband. The news of the pregnancy filled their home with laughter and tender whispers. Amoke's husband treated her with even more care, watching her every step as though she were the most fragile treasure in his life. Family and friends who heard the news showered them with warm congratulations, and Amoke smiled, receiving it all with quiet grace.Yet, in the silence of her heart, shadows lingered. Each night as she lay beside her husband, she could not shake the sensation that this moment had already passed through her life once before. It came to her in flashes. Faint, blurry, like fragments of a dream she couldn't fully remember. She dared not voice it, afraid it would cast a cloud over their joy, so she tucked the unease behind her smile convincing herself that nothing was wrong. But sometimes, when she caught her reflection in the mirror, the question whispered back at her: Why does it all feel so familiar?
Amidst all the joy, the only one who wasn't truly happy was her sister-in-law. Though she forced a smile, her heart burned with quiet resentment. No matter what she did to unsettle Amoke, it seemed to leave no mark, and that troubled her deeply. In her thoughts, she grumbled over Amoke's calmness, convinced it was nothing but defiance. Determined not to give up, she began searching for new ways to break her. One day, she learned from her brother that he had traveled to another city for a meeting. The news secretly pleased her, for it meant Amoke would be left alone in the house. Seizing the opportunity, she packed a small bag of clothes and decided to stay over without informing her brother of her plans. The doorbell rang, and Amoke, puzzled over who could be visiting, went to open it. To her surprise, it was her sister-in-law standing there with a bag in hand. "What brings you here?" Amoke asked gently. But instead of answering calmly, her sister-in-law flared up. "Why can't I be in my brother's house? And besides, shouldn't I be by your side now that you're expecting?"
Amoke forced a smile, hiding her unease. "Of course, you're welcome," she replied softly, stepping aside to let her in. The atmosphere shifted the moment her sister-in-law entered, her presence carried a weight Amoke could not ignore. She settled in quickly, making herself at home as though it had been planned all along. That night, Amoke tried to remain calm, convincing herself that perhaps her sister-in-law truly wanted to keep her company. Yet, the tone in her words, the sharp glances, and the little remarks suggested otherwise. It seemed less like companionship and more like surveillance. As the days went by, her sister-in-law hovered around her constantly asking questions, offering help that often came with a sting, and watching her every move. Amoke began to wonder if her husband had any idea of what was unfolding in his absence. Still, she chose silence, determined not to let bitterness ruin her peace. But deep down, she knew her sister-in-law had come with more than just a bag of clothes, she had come with intentions hidden beneath her smile.
The first few days felt almost bearable. Amoke tried to focus on her health, ignoring the sharp tones and subtle jabs that came with every conversation, but it soon became clear that her sister-in-law was not there out of kindness. She would criticize the way Amoke arranged the house, question what she ate, and even comment on how she rested.
"You shouldn't be lying down so much," she remarked one afternoon, her arms folded. "Pregnancy isn't an excuse to be lazy."
Amoke bit her tongue, refusing to respond. She reminded herself of her husband's words, to stay calm, to protect her peace. Yet, when she turned away, her eyes stung with unshed tears. By the third day, the air in the house had grown heavy. Amoke noticed how her sister-in-law watched her every step, as if waiting for her to falter. At night, when the house grew quiet, Amoke would whisper prayers into the darkness, asking for strength to endure. She couldn't help but wonder: What exactly was her sister-in-law looking for? And how long would she have to bear this storm alone?
The next morning, Amoke was in the kitchen, rinsing the dishes when a plate slipped from her wet hands and shattered on the floor. The sharp sound echoed through the house. Within moments, her sister-in-law rushed in. Seeing the broken pieces scattered across the tiles, she wasted no time unleashing her fury.
"So you can't even wash a simple plate properly? Who's going to replace that? You? She sneered. "Don't forget, my brother picked you up from nowhere and married you only because of your condition, never forget where you came from."
She hissed, turning on her heel and storming out, leaving her words lingering like poison in the air. Amoke stood frozen, tears spilling down her cheeks. Her chest tightened as fragments of memory began to blur before her eyes, echoes of someone else's voice, cussing her in almost the same cruel manner. It felt hauntingly familiar, yet she couldn't piece it together. Confused and shaken, she wiped her tears with trembling hands. For the first time, she wondered if she should tell her husband everything, so they could return to the hospital together and uncover what was truly happening to her. She leaned against the counter, her heart pounding, the broken shards still glistening at her feet. All day, the harsh words replayed in her mind like a bitter song. Picked you up from nowhere, because of your condition, never forget your roots. Each phrase stabbed her deeper, and each time, the same blurred memory returned, someone else shouting those very words, though she could not see their face. That night, as she lay in bed, sleep refused to come. Her mind wrestled with doubt and fear. Should I tell my husband? she wondered. What if it worries him too much? But what if something is really wrong with me? Her hand instinctively rested on her belly. The thought of her unborn child gave her strength, but it also intensified her fear. Whatever these shadows of memory were, she could no longer ignore them. Her husband called almost every hour to check on her, but Amoke never revealed what was happening in his absence. She masked her pain with smiles, assuring him that everything was fine. At times, her sister-in-law would linger nearby, eavesdropping on their conversations, determined to keep Amoke from mentioning her presence. When she finally learned the exact day her brother would return, she quickly devised a plan. She would leave the house before his arrival, ensuring he never discovered she had been staying there all along.
On the morning of her brother's expected return, his sister busied herself with packing her small bag. Amoke watched quietly from the sitting room, relieved that the days of tension were coming to an end. Just before stepping out, the sister-in-law turned to her with a cold smirk.
"You better enjoy this little peace while it lasts," she said, her voice dripping with scorn. "Don't think carrying a child will keep you in this house forever. Women like you are easily replaced."
Her words cut deep, leaving the room heavy with silence. Without waiting for a response, she picked up her bag and slammed the door behind her. Amoke sank into the chair, her hands trembling. She had endured many cruel remarks over the past days, but this last one lingered like a wound.
That evening, the sound of a car pulling into the compound stirred Amoke's heart. She rushed to the window, her face lighting up for the first time in days. Her husband was home. The moment he stepped through the door, she ran into his arms. He held her close, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I missed you so much," he whispered, his voice filled with relief and love. "I missed you too," Amoke replied, clinging to him as if afraid he might disappear again. For a while, they simply stood there, wrapped in each other's warmth, the heaviness of the past days melting away. He soon began asking about her health, how she had been managing in his absence, and if she had any difficulties. Amoke smiled, nodding, but her heart wrestled with the secret she was holding. She wanted to tell him everything about his sister, about the cruel words but fear kept her lips sealed.
Instead, she said softly, "I am just glad you're back."
He didn't notice the shadow in her eyes. To him, she looked radiant, and the thought of their growing child filled him with joy. But deep inside, Amoke knew the storm wasn't over. Later that night, after dinner, Amoke sat beside her husband in the quiet of their room. She hesitated for a long while, her fingers nervously tracing the edge of her wrapper. Finally, she took a deep breath.
"There's something I need to tell you," she began, her voice low but trembling.
He turned to her at once, concern in his eyes. "What is it, Amoke? You know you can tell me anything."
She swallowed hard. "For some time now, I've been experiencing something strange. Moments when I feel like I've lived through this before. Sometimes when people speak to me harshly, I hear echoes as if it already happened in my past. But I can't place where or when. It's like blurry memories, fragments I can't piece together."
Her husband reached for her hands and held them firmly. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asked softly.
Tears welled in her eyes. "I didn't want to trouble you. You've been so happy about the baby. I thought maybe I was imagining things but it keeps coming back."
He drew her closer, wrapping his arms around her. "You are never a trouble to me, Amoke. If something is happening to you, we will face it together. First thing tomorrow, I will take you to the hospital, we need to understand what is going on."
For the first time in days, Amoke felt a flicker of peace. She rested her head on his chest, whispering a quiet prayer that whatever it was would finally be uncovered. The next morning, true to his word, her husband drove her to the hospital. He held her hand throughout the ride, stealing worried glances at her pale face. Amoke kept quiet, staring out of the window, her thoughts swirling with questions she couldn't answer. At the hospital, they were ushered into the doctor's office. After the usual pleasantries, her husband explained what Amoke had been experiencing that troubled her.
The doctor leaned forward, his expression serious but kind. "Amoke," he said gently, "what you're describing could be linked to something in your past, perhaps a trauma your mind has chosen to bury. Sometimes, pregnancy hormones can stir memories that were once suppressed. They resurface in fragments, like the ones you have been having."
Amoke's hands trembled in her lap. "So you mean these things really happened to me before?"
"Possibly," the doctor replied. "But we need to be careful, memory can be fragile, and forcing it might cause more harm. I recommend we run some tests and, if necessary, sessions with a therapist. The goal is to help you recover safely without stress especially now that you're expecting." Her husband squeezed her hand reassuringly. "We will do whatever it takes," he said firmly. Amoke nodded, though her heart grew heavier. If the shadows in her mind were real memories, then someone had once wounded her deeply.
On their way back home, Amoke leaned her head against the car seat, her husband's hand resting protectively over hers. The doctor's words echoed in her mind, but she chose to hold on to one part above all else. Her well-being and the baby's growth must come first. When they got home, she looked at her husband and smiled faintly "I think I'll take the doctor's advice. Whatever those memories are, I don't want to dwell on them right now. I just want to focus on our child and make sure nothing disturbs this journey."
Her husband studied her for a moment, then nodded with relief. "That's all I want too, Amoke. Your peace and the baby's health come before anything else."
From that day, Amoke made a quiet vow to herself, to shut out the shadows of the past and live fully in the present. Each time she felt the unease creep in, she placed her hand over her belly, reminding herself that a new life was growing within her. For a while, the days grew brighter. Her husband's constant care, the gentle preparation for the baby, and the thought of motherhood gave her strength. Somewhere in the depths of her mind, the buried memories waited, silent but restless, as though they would not stay hidden forever.
One quiet afternoon, as they relaxed together in the sitting room, her husband suddenly turned to her. His tone was casual, but his eyes carried a searching look.
"Amoke," he asked, "my sister didn't disturb you while I was away, did she?"
Her heart skipped. For a brief moment, the truth pressed hard against her lips. She nearly spoke out, nearly poured out all the pain she had endured in his absence but then she hesitated. With a soft smile, she shook her head. "No, she didn't disturb me. I only kept myself busy with knitting and taking care of the house."
Her husband smiled, seemingly satisfied. He pulled her closer, kissing her gently on the forehead. "That's my strong Amoke. I'm glad you're managing so well." But inside, Amoke's chest ached with the weight of her silence. She told herself it was better this way, better to protect her peace, better not to stir unnecessary conflict. Yet, as she leaned against him, a quiet voice whispered: The truth cannot stay buried forever.
After a long pause, Amoke shifted closer to him and asked quietly, "What about your mother? How did she take the news?"
His face lit up with a wide smile. "She was overjoyed when I told her about the pregnancy. She promised she'll come for the omugwo. She also sent her regards to you, she can't wait to meet you properly, and of course, to hold her grandson."
Amoke raised her brows, a small laugh escaping her lips. "Grandson?"
He chuckled, pulling her into his arms. "That's what she said, the child is a boy." Amoke laughed with him, shaking her head gently. "Well, I also pray so but whatever gender our child is, he or she will be showered with so much love and care. "He looked into her eyes, his voice warm. "That's why I'm glad you're the mother of my child. With you, our baby is already surrounded by love."
Amoke felt light, her heart swelling with hope. She thanked her stars for blessing her with a loving husband. With her husband's support, Amoke gradually grew more familiar with her new environment. He took her around, showing her different places until she no longer felt like a stranger. His presence became her shield and since then, his sister no longer troubled her. Her husband was intentional about his time. Whenever he had to attend meetings, he made sure to return as soon as possible, never leaving Amoke alone for too long. His care and constant presence gave her a sense of safety she had longed for, her days began to feel calm and secure.
A few weeks later, Amoke had another hospital appointment. Her husband insisted on accompanying her, as always. They walked hand in hand into the waiting area, and Amoke felt a quiet joy seeing other expectant mothers around her, each carrying a story, each awaiting new life. When it was her turn, the doctor welcomed them warmly and carried out the routine checks. Amoke lay on the examination bed, her heart racing as the doctor gently moved the scan device across her belly. Moments later, a rhythmic sound filled the room; steady, fast, and strong.
"That's your baby's heartbeat," the doctor said with a smile.
Amoke's eyes welled with tears. She reached for her husband's hand, squeezing it tightly as they both listened in awe.
"Everything looks good," the doctor continued. "The baby is growing well. Just keep up with your vitamins, eat balanced meals, and rest as much as you can."
Relief washed over Amoke. For the first time, the shadows of her past seemed distant. As they left the hospital, she whispered to her husband, "This child is truly a blessing. Every sound, every movement reminds me that joy can still grow even after pain." Her husband smiled at her, pulling her close. "And I'll be here through every step, Amoke. You'll never face this journey alone."
When Amoke entered her eighth month, she was caught completely off guard. One quiet Saturday, her husband told her he wanted to take her out for a little relaxation. She followed him unsuspectingly, only to be ushered into a beautifully decorated hall filled with cheerful faces shouting, "Surprise!" Her eyes widened, and her hands flew to her mouth. It was a baby shower, carefully planned behind her back. Balloons, ribbons, and tiny baby items decorated the room. Laughter and music filled the air as her husband's friends, their wives, and even his sister gathered to celebrate the coming child. Tears of joy ran down Amoke's cheeks. She turned to her husband, who stood proudly by her side, smiling. "You did this?" she asked, her voice trembling with happiness. "You deserve this joy, Amoke." He replied warmly. She hugged him tightly, overwhelmed with gratitude. For a moment, even the sight of her sister-in-law did not unsettle her. Though she noticed the woman's forced smiles and stiff laughter, Amoke chose to focus only on the warmth around her. As the celebration went on, with games, gifts, and prayers for safe delivery. Amoke's heart swelled, she truly felt surrounded by love, and she promised herself that no shadow from the past would dim the light of this moment.