The Paternity Question

The hospital smell lingered on Ezi’s clothes even after she got home.

Mama Nneka was stable but the doctors warned, stress could trigger another episode. Her mother’s last words before she left the ward kept ringing:

“Fix your marriage, Ezinne. Or you will kill me.”

The pressure was mounting from every side.

The next day, Ezi finally went to see her own doctor. She needed confirmation. Proof that this pregnancy was real and not another cruel joke from life.

The scan was clear.

Six weeks gone.

But the dates hit her like a slap.

Six weeks.

That meant the conception happened right around the time Obi started his “intensive prayers” with Sister Divine. Right before the first prophecy. Right when he was already pulling away from her in bed.

The doctor smiled. “Everything looks good, Mrs Okoye. But you need to reduce stress. This early stage is delicate.”

Ezi left the hospital with the scan report in her bag like a loaded gun.

She now had the ultimate weapon.

That evening, family meeting was called at her mother’s house again. Chisom, two aunties, and even one of Obi’s cousins were present.

They didn’t waste time.

“Ezi, you have to forgive and take him back,” one aunty said. “A man’s destiny is higher than marriage. If God says second wife, who are you to fight it?”

Another added, “Many women have endured worse. Look at your mother. She endured your father’s wandering eyes for years.”

Ezi listened in silence. Then she brought out the scan report and placed it on the centre table.

“I’m pregnant.”

The room went dead quiet.

Then chaos.

Her mother started crying and shouting “Thank you Jesus!” at the same time. Aunties were ululating. Chisom hugged her tight.

But the celebration was short.

Because Obi walked in.

He had heard the news from one of the family members and rushed over. His face was a mixture of shock, guilt, and something like hope.

“Ezi… is it true?”

She nodded, watching him carefully.

Obi fell on his knees right there in her mother’s sitting room, tears in his eyes.

“Babe, I’m sorry. This changes everything. The baby is a sign from God. Maybe the prophecy was a test. I want to come back home. We can start over. Please.”

The room was watching her.

Her mother was nodding desperately. The aunties were smiling like the matter had been settled.

But Ezi looked at the man who had almost abandoned her for another woman’s “prophecy” and felt only one thing:

Power.

Now she had the upper hand.

The question was — would she use it for revenge… or for healing?

To be continued…