By Yetunde Arebi

HI Today, we bring you the concluding part of the story by a young woman seeking to unravel the mystery behind her identity. It is the pathetic story of a young lady who is greatly disturbed emotionally and psychologically. According to her, at 29, she does not know who are parents are? Her world fell apart the day she discovered that she bears her mother’s maiden name.
My take is that this is a classic case of over indulgence on the part of this lady’s grandparents as well as sheer wickedness and lack of fear of God and humanity on the part of her mother. That is if indeed she qualifies to be called a mother. I have advised Idara (not real name) to seek for solace with God who does not abandone nor forsake anyone.
However, as is our style on this column, we would love to know what our readers have to say about this story. There are many Idaras in our society and your contributions may help heal this lady’s broken heart as well as provide inspiration and courage for those with a similar story to face the future. Our address remains: [email protected] We will love to read from you. Happy reading!

SHORTLY after our moth er’s outburst and curses on me, Aunty Obioma called me one day and asked if what she heard about me calling her my mother was true. I could only stare at the ground as she too began raining abuses on me and calling me a crazy girl. She said she could never give birth to a child who will never do well in life. That it should be the first and the last time that she would hear her name linked to such a story and the last time she will also discuss the issue with me. Our mother is my mother. If I am not satisfied, I can go and look for another mother of my choice and ask her for a father too.

This has been my life ever since.

The maltreatment continued and in fact became almost unbearable such that, it was affecting everything i did. I was not doing well in school and had to repeat twice before I finally made it to SS3. It was no big surprise to everyone that I did not make any Credit level pass in my School Certificate Examination. But while brother suggested that I should be given a second chance to take the exams again, our mother insisted that there was no need and that I will never pass even if I sat for the exams a 100 times. The decision was then taken that I should go and learn Fashion Designing at a corner shop about two streets from our house. Anyway, that was where I met my husband, the guy I now live with and have a child for. We had two children but one died shortly before it turned one year.

I was further devastated and humiliated two years ago when our mother died. She left houses, Shares and money for everyone, even though, Aunty Obioma got more than everyone. She did not leave anything for me and the reason for that was never stated. All her other grandchildren got some, money, clothes and jeweleries. Aunty Obioma did not say anything. It was obvious that she already knew the content of the will, even before it was read. Only our other siblings expressed surprise and insisted that she ought to have left something for me.

Despite the fact that my husband knows everything about my story, he too was annoyed that nothing was left for me. But there was nothing anyone could do about it. After everything had been distributed, I went to see Aunty Grace, our fourth born who funny enough had lost favour with our mother before her death. Her own inheritance was the smallest compared to what she gave the others. She was not happy with Aunty Obioma and our mother and I think this was what made her disclose the truth to me.

Aunty Grace insisted that Aunty Obioma is my mother and that my father was an elderly man who once worked for my mother as a Gateman and Gardener.  Nobody knew how it really happened, they just discovered that Aunty Obioma was pregnant and that it was the man that confessed being responsible for it. She was in Secondary Shool at the time and probably did not really understand what had happened to her.

Our mother was said to have sent him away after cursing him but there was nothing anyone could do about the pregnancy. Because of the scandal, Aunty Obioma was sent to the village to stay with relatives until she gave birth to me and I was passed off as my grandmother’s daughter. No one ever spoke about the pregnancy or my father again. The hatred and anger against my father was subsequently passed to me.

The more Aunty Obioma and my mother saw me, the more they hated me. So, what do I do? She said I could go and talk to our other siblings to help me plead with Aunty Obioma but she would not go with them because my case was part of the issues that made her fall out with our mother and Aunty Obioma.

My other siblings confirmed what Aunty Grace told me at different times but none was ready to help me confront my mother. They all agreed that if my mother insists she is not my mother, it is not their business to force her to accept me. The most painful part of it is that no one knows my father’s name or where he came from, so, I can’t even say I want to go and search for him.

The new twist to my problem is that when our baby died and the problem became too much for us, some people took my husband out for spiritual consultations at an Alfa’s place.

To our greatest surprise, we were told that my mother, or grandmother has used me for money ritual. That I am just a walking corpes, I will not die but will never be successful or do anything good with my life again. That I was the one producing all the wealth that my grandmother had. That it is a secret between my mother and Aunty Obioma and because she knows I am worthless, she will never want anything to do with me. We have since gone to other places but all we hear are similar stories.

After these revelations, I began to recall some of the things I saw while growing up. Our mother indeed had been a member of many secret cults in and out of the country all the way to India and some African countries, even though she was also a staunch member of the Methodist church. I am convinced that there is some truth in what all these people are saying.

Aunty Obioma and her husband are elders in their church too. In fact, they are one of the pillars of the church and are highly respected. Another information I gathered was that Aunty Obioma never told her husband that she had a child long before they got married. So, when they returned to Nigeria and he was told, he refused to accept and acknowledge me too. Everyone had been disappointed because they had hoped that he would help resolve my issue. Now, I believe his refusal must have been prompted by our mother. I am now confused and scared. I know it is a matter of time before my husband turns against me too and I will be alone in the world. I just feel like dying sometimes.

Concluded.