Deep down, Bolaji knew Sarah probably hadn't done anything to cause the miscarriage. But in his mind, he couldn't shake the thought that she had never truly been happy about the pregnancy—maybe because he had told her she wouldn't be going to school.
The truth was, it wasn't that Bolaji didn't want her to be educated. Of course he did. But he had a secret fear: once Sarah got into school, she might leave him. He never told her this. His plan was simple—he wanted her to give him at least two children first. That way, she would always consider the kids before making any decision, and it would bind them together.
Bolaji: You should be happy now. At least you never wanted the baby in the first place, so stop pretending. In fact, I will never forgive you for the pain you've caused me because of your selfishness.
Sarah broke down in tears.
Sarah: So you think I used something to terminate the pregnancy?
Bolaji: Of course you did. And I'm sure that baby will torment you for taking his innocent life.
Sarah wept harder. She had no words, just tears streaming endlessly.
Sarah: God knows I didn't do anything. Why would I hurt my baby? For what?
Bolaji: For selfishness! Who told you that you can only succeed by going to university?
Sarah: It's not just about that. I only want to gain knowledge, to improve myself, to see more of life.
Bolaji: And because I said no, you saw the pregnancy as an obstacle and decided to get rid of it.
Sarah: Please stop saying this! I didn't hurt my baby. I didn't do anything.
But Bolaji refused to listen. Even though he knew deep down she was innocent, he let his anger and fear push him into cruel words.
Days turned into weeks, weeks into months.
They barely spoke. They ate together in silence, after which Sarah would retreat to her room. She tried her best to remain respectful and pleasant, but the gap between them grew.
Meanwhile, Bolaji's company was finally completed. He launched it and began going to work—though not every day. The time for JAMB passed, and as expected, Sarah didn't write that year.
At home, Sarah felt empty. Yes, she had food to eat, and Bolaji still sent monthly allowances to her parents and supported her siblings. But she wanted more for herself. She didn't want to just exist; she wanted to add value to her life.
One afternoon, while scrolling through the internet, she stumbled upon a video.
It was of a young woman selling thrift wears. The video showed her "before" and "after." At first, she had been a student selling a few clothes from her small room. Two years later, she had grown into a big businesswoman with her own shop, different bales of clothes neatly arranged.
Sarah's eyes widened. She saved the video immediately.
If Bolaji won't send me to school now, she thought, I can at least start something. Later, if the business grows, I can return to the idea of education.
She remembered the money Bolaji's mother had given her after the miscarriage. That could be her starting point.
Sarah waited for the right time to talk to her husband.
That night, while they were about to sleep, she approached him gently.
Sarah: My husband… please, I want to discuss something with you.
Bolaji: Okay, I'm listening.
Sarah: Ehm… since I can't go to school again this year, and you're always at work, I feel lonely at home. I want to be doing something, so I won't be idle. I came across a video online about selling first-grade thrift clothes. I can use this place like a shop—nothing too big, just small. And it won't really take much of my time. I just don't want to remain idle.
Bolaji chuckled.
Bolaji: So you want to turn my house into an Okrika shop? My own wife, selling Okrika?
He burst into louder laughter, shaking his head.