I took bowls of bitter concoctions morning and night, just as the dibia prescribed. Many times, I wondered why an expectant mother had to spend so much cowries on them. “For a safe delivery, for a healthy baby, for a healthy baby boy Ifemuna“, ma would always respond.
As I made to take the final gulp of the concoction in my hands, the folds on my forehead gathered with my cheeks taking steps above to the once hollowed sockets of my eyes. Their tastes are never nice.
Nnamdi came in just in time with a basket I presumed contained fresh fishes.
“My mother will bring the clothes I promised you later in the day. It is the market day at their side.”
I dropped the calabash at once to collect the basket of the supposed fishes. He has become my Lord, the richest man in the clan and the bearer of the Ozo title.
“Just pray to the ancestors that it’s a boy. Only then you will know that you have married a man who is capable of feeding seven clans for seven moons,” he boasted as he dropped the basket and turned his back to leave. I looked away.
When I was sure he was gone, I made few steps hurriedly to the corridor to confirm the content of the basket. It contained beautiful beads. I broke down in despair and did not mind the concoction that made its way happily under my feet.
“What if it is a girl?”, I cried out.
What If It’s A Girl – Short Story By Akinbola (K)hadijat[/caption]