Salomay Ngum

06/29/2025

The Poor Widow Episode 2

Life became even harder for Jecintha and her children. Sleeping in front of shops and begging for food was already bad enough, but things took a worse turn one night. There was a robbery at the market, and a large electronics shop was broken into. The thieves stole expensive items like phones, televisions, and laptops. When the owner came the next morning and saw the damage, he shouted and cried. He didn’t waste time. He ran to the nearest police station and reported the case. The police promised to investigate and catch anyone found near the crime scene.

When the police came to inspect the market, they saw Jecintha and her children. She had spread a wrapper near a locked provision shop and slept with the kids under the open sky. One officer asked her harshly, “Who are you and why are you sleeping here?” Jecintha explained herself, saying she was a widow with four children and had nowhere else to go. But the shop owner pointed at her angrily. “She’s a suspect! She was here the night they robbed my shop! She might have helped them!” The police didn’t listen to Jecintha’s pleas. They grabbed her roughly.

Jecintha cried out, “Please! I didn’t do anything! I have children!” But the officers didn’t listen. They bundled her into the back of their van like a common thief. Her children stood there, confused and crying, as the van drove away. No one explained anything to them. They were left all alone in the market. People watched, but no one helped. The officers took Jecintha to the station near the market and locked her in a dirty cell. Her wrapper was torn, and her slippers had fallen off during the arrest. She sat on the cold floor, weeping.

Inside the cell, other women looked at her suspiciously. One asked, “Are the one that stole TV?” Jecintha shook her head. “I didn’t steal anything. I’m just a widow. I have children. I don’t even know where they are now.” But no one believed her. She was treated like a criminal. That night, the police refused to give her food. She tried to sleep, but she couldn’t. The cries of her children echoed in her mind. “Where are they now?” she asked herself over and over. Her body shook from hunger and fear.

The next morning, the police questioned her again. “Tell us the truth,” one said. “Were you the one that opened the shop for your gang?” Jecintha broke down in tears. “I don’t have a gang! I don’t even know who owns the shop. I only slept outside the building with my children because we had no home.” But they didn’t believe her. Her story sounded unbelievable to them. One officer scoffed and said, “So you mean you and four children sleep outside in a market? You must be lying.” Jecintha remained quiet. Explaining didn’t help anymore.

Meanwhile, her children were suffering outside. The oldest, Junior, tried to ask people around for help, but nobody wanted to listen. “Go away! We don’t want trouble,” some traders shouted. They slept hungry that night, with their backs against a cold wall. The younger ones cried for their mother. They didn’t know where she was or why the police took her. Junior did his best to comfort them, but he was just a ten-year-old boy. He didn’t know what to do or who to run to. The market was becoming too dangerous for them to remain there.

Back at the station, Jecintha began to lose strength. She hadn’t eaten in two days, and the stress was affecting her health. A kind female officer finally gave her a cup of water. “I don’t believe you’re a thief,” she whispered. “But I can’t help you unless someone comes to speak for you.” Jecintha nodded weakly. “I don’t have anybody,” she whispered. “Even my parents refused to take me in because of my children.” The officer shook her head sadly and walked away. Jecintha looked up at the ceiling and closed her eyes. “God, why is my life like this?”

By the third day, the police still hadn’t found any evidence linking her to the robbery. But they also hadn’t released her. They said they were still “investigating.” She kept begging to see her children, but no one allowed her. “If something happens to them,” she kept saying, “it will be your fault.” But her words fell on deaf ears. The shop owner, who had accused her, had even stopped coming to the station. He was busy fixing his damaged shop and had forgotten about the woman he accused. Yet, Jecintha remained locked up, with no justice in sight.

Her sorrow became heavier. She sat in the corner of the cell and began to speak to herself. “God, I have suffered. Is this my reward for being faithful to my husband till his last breath? Is this what I get for not abandoning my children? Am I supposed to die like this?” She thought of her children wandering the streets. Maybe someone had helped them. Maybe they had been taken by force. She didn’t know. Not knowing was worse than the pain in her stomach. Her heart felt like it was being squeezed every second she remained locked up.

On the evening of the fourth day, something unexpected happened. A market woman who had seen the arrest and believed in Jecintha’s innocence walked into the police station. She told the officers that she had been seeing Jecintha and her children sleeping outside for weeks. “She’s not a thief,” she said confidently. “She’s just poor. Her husband died recently. Please let her go.” The officer in charge looked at her and said, “We’ll look into it.” But deep down, Jecintha had already given up hope. As she lay on the floor that night, she whispered, “Even in chains, I’ll keep praying.”

To be continued

06/26/2025

The Poor Widow Episode One

Jecintha sat beside her husband’s hospital bed and watched him struggle to breathe. He had been coughing blood for weeks, and the doctors said it was a serious lung disease. Before now, he worked as a driver, but the sickness made him stop. The family had been moving from one hospital to another, hoping to get help. All their savings disappeared on medical bills. Friends who used to come around before started giving excuses. The pain in Jecintha’s heart grew every day. She had four children to care for and a sick husband whose condition wasn’t getting any better.

As their money finished, feeding became a problem. Sometimes, Jecintha would go the whole day without eating just to ensure the children had something in their stomachs. The drugs the hospital prescribed were expensive, and without them, her husband got worse. She tried begging people in the streets for help, but most would shake their heads and pass. She went to churches and asked for prayers. Some helped with small money, but it didn’t last. Life was becoming harder each day. Her husband was no longer the strong man she married. He could hardly talk without gasping for breath.

Then the landlord came with a final warning. “Madam, I’ve tried. You’re owing five months’ rent. I need to rent the house to someone else,” he said coldly. Jecintha begged him with tears in her eyes, but he didn’t care. “This is business, not charity,” he added. Two days later, the landlord came with two men. They threw out their things and locked the door. Jecintha and her family sat by the roadside with their belongings. That same month, just days after they were sent packing, her husband gave up. He died quietly, still gasping for air.

Jecintha screamed when she saw his lifeless body. “Don’t leave me! What will I do?” she cried. Her children wept too, especially the eldest who understood what had just happened. It was a painful burial. The little she had left was used to transport his body to the village for burial. There was no proper coffin, no ceremony, just a small crowd that gathered as he was buried. That night after the burial, her mother pulled her aside and whispered, “You can come home, but not with all these children. We’re struggling too.” Her father didn’t even come out to see her.

Heartbroken, Jecintha left her husband’s village with her children. They returned to the town with nowhere to go. She tried calling some relatives, but no one wanted to take her in. Everyone had their own problem. Her husband’s family acted like she didn’t exist. They didn’t ask how she was surviving or where she was sleeping with the children. She wandered the streets during the day and begged shop owners to allow her sleep in front of their stores at night. Some agreed, but others chased her away. The rain beat them. Mosquitoes feasted on them. Life was hard.

One night, Jecintha looked at her children sleeping on the bare pavement in front of a locked shop. She sat beside them and wiped her tears quietly. “I’m in deep sorrow,” she whispered. Her stomach rumbled from hunger. The baby beside her coughed in his sleep. She reached over and covered him properly with her wrapper. Her body was weak. Her spirit was tired. The shame of begging and the pain of losing her husband were still fresh. She never imagined her life would turn out this way. At that moment, she wished she could just disappear.

Days turned into weeks. Jecintha started going to people’s houses to ask for clothes to wash or plates to scrub. Some people gave her food in return, others small money. But it was never enough. The children grew thinner. Their clothes were always dirty. They looked like abandoned children. Many people looked at them with pity but no one wanted to help properly. “We have our own problems,” someone told her one day. She didn’t argue. She understood. But understanding didn’t stop the hunger. She had to keep struggling for the sake of her children.

There were nights when she thought of giving her children out to orphanages. But each time she looked into their eyes, she changed her mind. They had lost their father already. Losing their mother’s care would be worse. She promised herself that she would fight, even if it meant dying in the process. One day, she saw a poster about a women’s support centre. She went there, hoping for help, but was told to come back in three months. “We’re full,” the receptionist said. She left quietly, her heart broken again. Still, she refused to give up completely.

Jecintha’s oldest son, Junior, was just ten years old. He noticed how sad his mother was. One evening, he came to her and said, “Mummy, I want to start selling sachet water in traffic. Let me help you.” Tears filled her eyes. “You’re still a child,” she said. But deep down, she knew they needed every kobo they could get. The next day, she gave him ₦500 from what she earned that day. Junior returned in the evening with ₦800. “I sold everything,” he said proudly. For the first time in weeks, Jecintha smiled. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

Still, life in the street was not safe. One night, some boys tried to steal their bag. Another time, a security man almost poured water on them for sleeping in front of his shop. Jecintha knew she couldn’t continue like this. Her children needed to go back to school. They needed shelter, food, and love. She didn’t know how it would happen, but she made a decision. “I must find a way. No matter what it takes,” she whispered to herself. She folded her wrapper tightly and looked up at the sky. Tomorrow was another day to try again.

To be continued

06/26/2025

New Story:
The Poor Widow

06/22/2025

06/21/2025

The Married Woman and Her Ex-boyfriend Episode 10

That night, Bukky was lying in bed, scrolling through her phone. Suddenly, she saw the news flashing on the screen. “Woman wanted for murder,” the headline read. Her heart stopped. It was her picture on TV, and her name. Bukky felt a cold fear wash over her. She knew it was only a matter of time before the police came for her. She quietly got out of bed and started packing her bags. She had to run away. There was no other choice. She had to disappear.

She packed some clothes, money, and her important documents. She wanted to leave the house quietly, without waking Ben. Every noise made her jump. She thought about the baby growing inside her and felt pain. But she was scared for all of them. She knew if the police caught her, she would lose everything. She hoped she could start a new life somewhere else. After a while, her bag was ready, and she took a deep breath. It was time to go.

As Bukky stepped out of her room, she heard a loud knock on the door. Her heart skips. She froze. The door was pushed open, and several police officers walked in. “Bukky, you are under arrest for the murder of Donald,” one officer said firmly. Bukky’s body trembled. She wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go. The police handcuffed her and read her rights. Ben woke up from the noise and came to the living room, shocked to see the police. Bukky was taken away without saying a word.

Days later, Bukky was in a cold courtroom. The judge read the charges against her. The room was filled with people—reporters, lawyers, and families. Ben sat quietly, watching. Bukky’s lawyer tried to defend her, but the evidence was strong. The flask, the poison, the fingerprint—it was all against her. After long hours, the judge gave his verdict. Bukky was found guilty of murder and sentenced to death. The courtroom gasped. Bukky lowered her head, tears running silently down her cheeks. She knew there was no hope now.

Ben was still in shock. He could not believe everything Bukky had done. He remembered their love, their wedding, the baby they were expecting. Now, it felt like a dream that had turned into a nightmare. He thought about the nights Bukky had refused him, the secrets she kept, and the lies she told. But Ben was a kind man. He did not hate her. He felt pain, sadness, and confusion. The woman he loved was gone forever, and the life they planned was shattered.

In court, Bukky finally spoke. She confessed everything with a heavy heart. She told the judge how she had cheated, how she got pregnant by Donald, and how the poison was her revenge. She explained her fear of losing Ben and how the disease made her angry and desperate. Her voice was weak but honest. The room was silent. Everyone listened. Ben’s eyes filled with tears. He never wanted to see this side of her, but now he understood her pain. It was a sad ending to a broken love story.

Bukky was taken to prison after the trial. She said goodbye to Ben with a sad smile. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Ben held her hand, but it was time to let go. The prison gates closed behind her. Life inside was hard and lonely. She thought about the baby and hoped it would be safe. She prayed for forgiveness and peace in her heart. Her world had changed forever, and she was ready to face the consequences of her actions. She promised herself to be strong until the end.

Back home, Ben tried to heal his broken heart. Time passed slowly. The pain of Bukky’s betrayal stayed with him, but he knew he had to move on. After months, Ben met someone new. Her name was Grace. She was kind, gentle, and understanding. Ben and Grace fell in love quietly. Grace helped Ben find happiness again. They got married in a small, joyful ceremony surrounded by close friends. Ben finally smiled again, knowing life still held hope and new beginnings.

Ben and Grace started a family. They welcomed a baby girl who brought light and laughter into their home. Ben was a loving husband and father. He never forgot Bukky, but he chose to live in the present. He thanked God for the second chance. His life was peaceful, filled with love and joy. He knew he deserved happiness, and he was ready to embrace it. Grace was his rock, and together they built a new life full of hope and promise.

Sometimes, Ben thought about Bukky in prison. He hoped she found peace inside. He wished her well, even though she hurt him deeply. He believed everyone deserved forgiveness, including himself. Ben learned that life was fragile and love was precious. He promised to cherish every moment with Grace and their child. He knew the past could not be changed, but the future was still bright. His heart was full of gratitude for the lessons he had learned.

The story of Bukky and Ben ended with sorrow and hope. Bukky faced justice for her actions, while Ben found a new love that healed his soul. Life was a journey of pain and joy, mistakes and forgiveness. In the end, Ben became the man of peace he always wanted to be. He let go of anger and embraced love again. The future was open and full of light, waiting for him and Grace to write their own story, one filled with happiness and true love.

The End.

06/19/2025

The Married Woman and Her Ex-boyfriend Episode 9

The next morning, Donald’s quiet street was filled with police officers. His neighbours stood outside whispering and watching. Everyone wanted to know what happened. His neighbors brought him back from hospital and called the police. The police entered Donald’s apartment and sealed the place. His body was lying in the living room, already cold and stiff. His eyes were open, and his face looked like he had seen something scary before he died. The police took pictures, dusted the place for fingerprints, and searched every corner. On the table, they found the food flask Bukky had brought. The flask still had some rice and meat left inside it.

The officers carefully packed the flask and the remaining food inside a clear evidence bag. They also collected some cups, the spoon Donald used, and some napkins. They were serious with their work. They didn’t want to miss anything. One of the officers turned to his colleague and said, “This doesn’t look like a natural death. Let’s take everything for lab tests.” They put Donald’s body in an ambulance and sent it to the mortuary. The flask and food were sent to the forensic lab. A full autopsy was ordered immediately to know what killed him so suddenly.

After two days, the autopsy result came out. The report was clear—Donald had been poisoned. A dangerous substance was found in his stomach, the same substance that was found in the rice he ate. The lab also tested the leftover food and confirmed the poison was present in it. The police now knew that Donald didn’t die a natural death. He was murdered. The question now was: who gave him the food? Who poisoned the rice? That was when they decided to check for fingerprints on the flask. They wanted to find out who last touched it.

The forensic team dusted the flask carefully. They found a clear fingerprint on the cover. They ran the print through their system, but it didn’t match any known criminal. Then they took it to the National ID database. After a few minutes, the system brought out a name: Bukky. The officers looked at each other. “We have a suspect,” one of them said. They checked Donald’s phone and saw that Bukky had called him recently. “She must have brought the food,” the officer added. They printed her picture and details and added her to the wanted list.

By the next day, Bukky’s picture was everywhere. “WANTED FOR MURDER,” the posters said. Her face was on TV and social media. Some people were surprised. Some said they were not. “That’s what happens when you play with people’s hearts,” one commenter wrote online. But Bukky didn’t know yet. She was still at home, pretending everything was normal. She cooked, cleaned, and smiled when Ben was around. She thought she had covered her tracks well. But her time was ticking fast. The police were already searching for her. They even visited Donald’s workplace to ask questions about her.

Ben was still in love and blind. He had no idea what his wife had done. He noticed she was more quiet, but he thought it was because of the pregnancy. One evening, he came home with a small cake. “I got this for you,” he said. “You’ve been so strong.” Bukky hugged him. “Thank you,” she said. But deep down, fear had started growing inside her. She didn’t know what she would do if the truth came out. She didn’t know how long she could keep hiding it. Her heart was no longer at peace.

The police visited Bukky’s old workplace and church. They spoke to anyone who knew her. “If you see her, report immediately,” they said. They dropped a contact number and moved on. Someone who knew Bukky from the hospital saw her poster and called the police. “She comes here for antenatal,” the woman whispered on the phone. “I saw her last week.” The police became more alert. They started watching the hospital quietly. They wanted to catch her when she least expected it. They didn’t want her to disappear before they had a chance to arrest her.

Bukky had no idea she had been spotted. One morning, she told Ben she was going for her antenatal check-up. Ben gave her money and told her to take the new car. “Call me if you need anything,” he said. She nodded and left. But as she was driving into the hospital gate, she noticed a strange car parked outside. Two men were sitting inside and looking around. Something told her to turn around. She made a sharp U-turn and sped off. The men tried to follow her, but she disappeared into the busy traffic. That was her first warning.

When she got home, she locked herself inside and cried. “They’re looking for me,” she whispered. “What should I do now?” She started thinking of leaving the city. She packed a small bag and counted her money. She had some cash Ben had given her, and a little savings in her account. “I can go far. I just need to disappear,” she said. But as she was packing, her hands were shaking. “What if they catch me?” she asked herself. “What if Ben finds out?” She paused and looked around the room. Everything felt like it was closing in.

As the night became quiet, Bukky sat by the window, looking at the dark sky. Her face was wet with silent tears. She thought of the baby inside her. She thought of Ben, the man who loved her with all his heart. And she thought of Donald, now lying in a cold mortuary, because of her anger. “What have I done?” she asked. The city was no longer safe for her. The law was coming. Her lies were falling apart. And deep down, Bukky knew her life was about to change forever.

To be continued

06/17/2025

The Married Woman and Her Ex-boyfriend Episode 8

Bukky was no longer herself. Her mind was boiling with thoughts. She was tired of crying. She was tired of pretending. She wanted to do something. She had made a decision. “Donald must pay,” she whispered. “He gave me HIV. He destroyed my life. He made me lie to my husband. He ruined everything.” The pain inside her had turned into anger. She no longer wanted to feel sorry for herself. She wanted revenge. She believed Donald deserved to die. He had infected her with something she would live with for the rest of her life.

For days, she thought about what to do. She wanted a plan that would work perfectly. “He likes food,” she remembered. “He can’t resist home-cooked food.” An idea formed in her head. She smiled bitterly. “I will cook for him. I will serve it with peace and poison.” She waited patiently for a day Ben would not be home early. That day finally came. She woke up early and started cooking. She prepared Donald’s favourite meal—jollof rice with goat meat. She added fried plantain and pepper sauce. It smelled so sweet, but her heart was bitter.

Bukky moved quietly. She put the food in a clean food flask. She wrapped it nicely and placed it inside a small bag. Her hands were steady. Her face was calm, but deep inside her, war was going on. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. “No one will suspect anything,” she said to herself. She wore a simple gown, packed her hair, and applied light makeup. She didn’t want to look like trouble. She wanted to appear like someone who came in peace. She locked the door and left the house, heading straight to Donald’s place.

When she got to Donald’s house, she paused in front of the gate. Donald opened the gate and looked surprised. “Bukky?” he asked. “What are you doing here?” Bukky smiled. “I came to make peace. I brought food.” Donald raised his eyebrows. “Peace?” he asked. “After the way you shouted at me?” Bukky nodded. “Yes. I’ve thought about everything. I now believe I was the one who gave you HIV.” Donald’s eyes softened. “So, you’re no longer blaming me?” She shook her head. “No. Let’s just forget the past.”

Donald opened the door wide. “Come in,” he said. Bukky stepped in slowly, still smiling. She sat on a small cushion and opened the flask. The sweet smell filled the room. Donald licked his lips. “Wow, Bukky. You really cooked?” She nodded. “I wanted to make peace. No more fighting. No more blaming.” Donald took a spoon and began to eat. He was enjoying the food. “This is delicious,” he said, chewing loudly. Bukky watched him. She smiled and nodded. “Eat well,” she said. “Let’s start over as friends.” Donald continued eating, not knowing what was hidden in the meal.

Bukky sat quietly and watched him eat. She said nothing more. Just silence. Her eyes were fixed on him. Donald finished the food and leaned back. “That was good,” he said. “Thank you, Bukky.” She stood up. “I’ll be going now,” she said. Donald walked her to the door. “Thank you for this. I feel better.” Bukky nodded. “I hope you really do,” she said. She left the house and walked away slowly, still calm on the outside. But inside her, everything was shaking. She wasn’t sure what she had done. She wasn’t sure if she should feel happy or afraid.

She got home and sat on the bed. Her hands were shaking now. She couldn’t believe she had just done that. “Did I just poison someone?” she asked herself. “Did I just kill Donald?” Fear started crawling into her heart. But she quickly reminded herself of what Donald did to her. “He gave me HIV,” she said. “He changed my life forever. He doesn’t deserve to live.” She laid on the bed and waited. She didn’t call him. She didn’t check her phone. She just waited. A few hours later, her phone rang. It was an unknown number.

She picked the call. “Hello?” a voice said. “Is this Bukky?” She hesitated. “Yes. Who is this?” The voice replied, “This is Donald’s neighbour. I just found him unconscious in his room. We’ve called an ambulance.” Bukky ended the call. She sat still. A part of her wanted to cry, but another part of her felt calm. “It has happened,” she said to herself. “Let it be.” Hours passed. Another call came in. This time it was from a doctor. “Hello, are you related to Donald?” Bukky replied, “We are friends.” The doctor sighed. “I’m sorry. He didn’t make it.”

Bukky dropped the phone and sat still. The room was quiet. She didn’t feel joy. She didn’t feel sorrow. Just silence. She walked to the mirror and looked at herself again. “Now what?” she whispered. She had done what she felt was right. She had taken justice into her hands. But was it truly justice? She didn’t know. She sat on the floor and leaned against the wall. Her eyes were dry. Her soul was heavy. “Ben must never know,” she said. “No one must ever know.” She stood up and wiped her face clean.

Later that night, Ben came home. He brought her suya and fruit juice. “I saw it on my way and thought of you,” he said. Bukky smiled weakly. “Thank you.” He sat beside her and held her hand. “You look tired,” he said. She nodded. “It was a long day.” He ki.ssed her forehead. “Don’t stress yourself, my love. I’m here for you.” Bukky looked at him and tried not to cry. “Thank you for loving me,” she said. Ben smiled. “Always.” As he walked into the kitchen, Bukky whispered to herself, “You deserve a better wife. I’m sorry.”

To be continued

06/16/2025

The Married Woman and Her Ex-boyfriend Episode 7

Bukky was on the bed, looking out through the window as if she was lost. Her eyes were tired. Her body felt heavy even though she hadn’t done much. Inside her heart was sorrow. She was broken. She didn’t know what to do. She wanted to run away from her life, but there was nowhere to run to. Her husband, Ben, was good to her. He was kind, patient and caring. Yet, she had betrayed him. She had brought shame into their home. She placed her hand on her stomach. The baby moved a little. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears dropping down her cheeks.

Every day, Ben showed her more love. He made her breakfast in bed. He rubbed her feet. He helped her clean the house. He always asked how she felt and if the baby was kicking. But whenever he came close to touch her, Bukky would move away. “Not tonight,” she would say. At first, Ben thought she was just tired. But it became a pattern. Every time he touched her, she would find an excuse. One night, he asked, “Bukky, are you avoiding me?” She looked at him and smiled. “I’m just tired, dear. It’s the pregnancy.”

But it wasn’t the pregnancy. It was fear. It was guilt. It was pain. She didn’t want to infect Ben. She had read that HIV could be transmitted through unprotected se.x. Even though she was now on medication, she couldn’t take the risk. She would rather die than bring harm to the man who had been nothing but good to her. “He doesn’t deserve this,” she told herself. Sometimes at night, she would cry silently on the bed while Ben slept. Her back would face him. She would cover her mouth with a pillow so he wouldn’t hear her sobbing.

Ben noticed she was changing. “You don’t laugh anymore,” he said one evening. “You hardly talk.” Bukky just nodded. She didn’t know what to say. “Is it the baby? Is something wrong?” he asked again. “No,” she replied quickly. “The baby is fine.” Ben came closer. “Then what is it? I’m your husband. Talk to me.” Bukky looked into his eyes. She wanted to tell him. She opened her mouth but the words didn’t come out. “I’ll be fine,” she said. Ben held her hand gently. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together.” Bukky smiled sadly. “You’re a good man, Ben.”

In her heart, Bukky wanted to turn back time. She wished she had never gone to that birthday party. She wished she never replied to Donald’s message. Everything started from that simple reply. Just one mistake. Now her whole life had changed. She had to live with a virus for the rest of her life. She had to hide it from the man who trusted her so much. “I’m a terrible wife,” she said to herself. “I don’t deserve Ben.” But even in her silence, Ben never gave up. He kept treating her like a queen. He never shouted at her.

One Saturday morning, Ben surprised her with a gift. “Come outside,” he said. Bukky followed him slowly. When she got outside, she saw a brand new baby cot and a box of baby clothes. Her mouth opened in shock. “Ben!” she screamed. “Where did you get all this?” He smiled. “I just wanted to spoil my baby a little. And the mother too.” Bukky covered her mouth. She was overwhelmed. “Thank you,” she said. But inside her heart, the pain grew deeper. She felt like a criminal. This man was preparing to be a father to another man’s child.

Later that day, she stood in front of the mirror, staring at herself. She looked beautiful. Her skin was glowing. Her belly was round and firm. But deep down, she felt ugly. Her smile had faded. Her joy had disappeared. “Who am I?” she asked herself. “What have I done to deserve this kind of love?” She remembered Donald and how he reacted at the hospital. She remembered the fight, the shouting. He had never truly cared. He only wanted her body. But Ben, even after everything, still treated her like gold. Bukky broke down and cried in front of the mirror.

Night came again. Ben was in the bedroom, reading a book. Bukky walked in slowly and sat beside him. “Ben,” she said. He looked up. “Yes, love.” She looked into his eyes. “Thank you.” He smiled. “For what?” She wiped a tear from her eye. “For loving me the way you do.” He dropped the book and held her hand. “You’re my wife. Loving you is my job.” Bukky leaned on his shoulder. “What if I told you I don’t deserve your love?” Ben smiled. “I would tell you that you’re wrong.” Bukky remained silent. Her heart was screaming.

Every day that passed made it harder for Bukky to keep the secret. But every day that passed also reminded her how much her husband loved her. She thought about telling him many times, but she feared his reaction. She feared losing him. “Maybe he’ll hate me,” she thought. “Maybe he’ll send me away.” But he never showed any sign of anger. Even when she turned him down in bed, he didn’t force her. “It’s okay,” he would say. “I understand.” Bukky felt trapped between fear and love. Her life was now full of regret, but it was too late to change anything.

One morning, as she knelt to pray, Bukky whispered, “God, please forgive me. And please protect Ben.” She cried again and again. “Give me the strength to tell him the truth. He deserves to know.” That day, she made up her mind. “I will tell him,” she said. “I can’t keep living like this.” She cleaned her face and went to the living room. Ben was sitting on the sofa, drinking tea. She sat beside him. “Ben,” she said softly. He turned to her and smiled. “Yes, sweetheart?” She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped again. “Not now,” she said.

To be continued