“Fatou, we can’t keep doing this,” Ariosvaldo said, his voice strained with emotion.
Fatou looked at him, her eyes wide with confusion and fear. “What do you mean, Ari? What’s wrong?”
Ariosvaldo took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. “Fatou, you’re three months pregnant,” he said softly, his eyes filled with sorrow. “We can’t keep this a secret anymore. The village will find out, and… and I can’t carry on with the relationship.”
Fatou clung to him, her tears soaking into his shirt. “So what do we do? Do you just walk away and leave me to face this alone?”
Ariosvaldo’s voice broke as he spoke, “I don’t want to leave you, Fatou. But I don’t see any other way. My mother… she would never allow it. She’d make our lives a living hell.”
Fatou pulled back, her eyes searching his. “We can fight for our love, Ari. We can face whatever comes our way together. Please, don’t give up on us.”
Ariosvaldo gently cupped her face in his hands, his eyes filled with a mix of love and despair. “Fatou, you are the strongest person I know. But this… this is bigger than us. I need to protect you and our child. Even if it means I have to walk away.”
Fatou’s sobs grew louder, her heart shattering into a million pieces. “Ari, please. Don’t do this. I can’t do this without you.”
Ariosvaldo kissed her forehead, his tears mingling with hers. “I will always love you, Fatou. And I will always be there for you in spirit. But we can’t be together. Not like this.”
He took a step back, his hands lingering on hers for a moment before he let go. Fatou’s world seemed to crumble around her as she watched him walk away, her heart breaking with each step he took. She knew that life without him would be a struggle, but she also knew that their love would never truly die.
As Ariosvaldo disappeared into the distance, Fatou clutched her belly, feeling the tiny life growing inside her. She vowed to be strong, to raise their child with all the love and courage she could muster. And though their paths had diverged, she held on to the hope that one day, they might find their way back to each other, no matter the obstacles that lay ahead.
Maria, or to be more precise her soul, watched from a distance, her heart filled with a grim satisfaction. She had done what needed to be done. Her family was safe, their legacy secure. Ariosvaldo would find someone else, someone more suitable. He would understand in time that she had acted out of love.
As she watched on, Maria felt a sense of peace. She had faced the challenge and emerged victorious. She had protected her family, as she always did. The world would continue to turn, and she would remain a force to be reckoned with.
Fatou stood at the same spot long after Ariosvaldo had left. Time and feeling seemed to dissolve around her. She felt terribly lonely, like a child isolated by the absence of shared parentage. Funeh saw her before she saw Funeh. Her immediate sibling, Funeh, approached with concern etched on her face.
“Mother is worried that you have not returned home since morning. It is already nightfall,” Funeh said, her voice tinged with a mix of worry and curiosity.
Fatou turned slowly to face her sister, her eyes red from crying. She tried to compose herself, but the weight of her secret pressed heavily on her chest. “Funeh,” she began, her voice trembling. “I… I need to tell you something. But you must promise me, swear to me, that you won’t tell Mother. Not anyone. Can you do that?”
Funeh’s eyes widened with concern and curiosity. She had never seen her sister so distraught. “I swear, Fatou. I won’t tell anyone. What’s wrong?”
Fatou took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. “I’m pregnant, Funeh. Three months. Ariosvaldo is the father.”
Funeh gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. “Oh, Fatou! What are you going to do? What did he say?”
Fatou’s eyes filled with tears again. “He said… he said we can’t be together. His mother, our families… they would never accept it. He’s afraid of what will happen to us and the baby. He thinks it’s best if we part ways.”
Funeh stepped closer, wrapping her arms around her sister. “Oh, Fatou. I’m so sorry. This must be so hard for you. What are we going to do? How are we going to tell Mother?”
Fatou shook her head, her voice firm despite her tears. “We can’t tell her, Funeh. Not yet. She would be devastated, and the village… the village would never let us live it down. We need to figure out what to do, how to handle this, before we tell anyone.”
Funeh nodded, her grip on Fatou tightening. “I understand. We’ll keep this between us for now. But you can’t go through this alone. I’ll be here for you, no matter what.”
Fatou felt a glimmer of hope at her sister’s words. “Thank you, Funeh. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“We’ll figure this out together,” Funeh reassured her. “First, let’s get you home. Mother will be worried sick if we stay out much longer. We’ll think of a plan, one step at a time.”
Fatou nodded, wiping her tears and taking a deep breath. She knew the road ahead would be challenging, but with Funeh by her side, she felt a little less alone. Together, they began to walk back home, the bond between them stronger than ever.
That night, her siblings long dead asleep, Funeh lay on the bare floor, her eyes wide open and fixed on the ceiling. The darkness of the room pressed in on her, heavy and suffocating. She tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position among the crowd of bodies laying on the floor, but the turmoil in her mind made sleep impossible.
Funeh had never been good at keeping secrets. Even as a child, she could never hide her mistakes from her mother. The thought of carrying her sister’s secret felt like a burden too heavy for her adolescent shoulders. Her heart raced with anxiety, her mind replaying the conversation she had with Fatou over and over again.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Fatou’s tear-streaked face, heard her desperate plea for secrecy. Funeh felt a wave of guilt wash over her. She had promised Fatou she would keep the secret, but how could she? The fear of disappointing her sister was as overwhelming as the fear of their mother’s reaction.
She knew their mother, Sunkaru, well. Sunkaru was a pillar of strength, a woman who commanded respect in their village. But she was also a woman of strict principles, and Funeh could not imagine how she would react to the news of Fatou’s pregnancy. The thought of Sunkaru’s disappointment, her anger, made Funeh’s stomach churn.
Funeh felt trapped, caught between her loyalty to her sister and the weight of the secret. She pulled a piece of cloth tighter around her, as if it could shield her from the storm brewing inside her. She could hear the faint sounds of the night outside—the rustling of leaves, the distant hoot of an owl—but they did nothing to calm her racing thoughts.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she imagined the future. What would happen to Fatou? To the baby? How would their mother react? The village? The uncertainty gnawed at her, making her feel small and powerless.
She glanced over at Fatou’s sleeping form, her sister’s face peaceful in slumber. Funeh envied that peace. She wished she could find solace, even for a moment. But the secret weighed heavily on her, a constant reminder of the impossible situation she was in.
Funeh took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She needed to be strong for Fatou. But the thought of facing another day with this burden made her feel sick with dread. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, praying for the strength to get through this, knowing that sleep would not come easily that night.
As the first light of dawn began to filter through the window, Funeh made a silent promise to herself. She would do whatever it took to support her sister, even if it meant facing her own fears and the wrath of their mother. For now, she would keep the secret, but she knew it was only a matter of time before the truth would come out.
Just as she resolved to make good on her decision, she heard her mother call out her name. Funeh, the early riser among her siblings, answered back without thinking. Moments later, Sunkaru walked into the room, her eyes sharp and probing.
Sunkaru’s gaze fell directly on Funeh’s. “What is wrong with Fatou? Tell me the truth,” she demanded, her voice firm and unyielding.
Funeh’s heart pounded in her chest. She had expected to have more time to prepare, to think of how to protect her sister. But now, under her mother’s piercing gaze, she felt the weight of the secret pressing down on her even harder.
“Nothing, Mama,” she stammered, trying to keep her voice steady. “She’s just tired from working in the fields.”
Sunkaru’s eyes narrowed, her suspicion growing. “Do not lie to me, Funeh. I know something is wrong. Fatou has been acting strangely, and now you look like you haven’t slept a wink. What is going on?”
Funeh’s resolve wavered. She could feel the truth clawing its way up her throat, desperate to escape. But she couldn’t betray Fatou, not like this. She had to find a way to keep the secret, even if it meant facing her mother’s wrath.
“Mama, please,” she said, her voice trembling. “Fatou is just going through something. She will be fine. We will be fine.”
Sunkaru stepped closer, her eyes boring into Funeh’s. “If you do not tell me the truth, I will find out on my own. And when I do, there will be consequences for both of you.”
To be contd.
