Of Trust and Betrayal
Rita:
The cab ride back to my shop proved to be the longest I had taken my whole life. When I got there, I made straight for my keys, gathered the wares I had displayed outside and locked up. I didn’t bother asking my neighbour if she made any sales for me. I was not in the mood to banter.
When I entered our flat, the silence that greeted me was in contrast to the riot going on in my head. My boys were at school; It would be hours before they are due back, my husband would joined us later in the evening.
I reached for my phone and dialled her. The phone rang off. There was no answer. “Not you too,” I mumbled. My thoughts running wild. “Don’t desert me now that …”
My phone screen lighted up. It was her. I clicked on the green button as if my life depended on it.
“Hello,” came her calm voice. “I am sorry I couldn’t take your call immediately.”
”I guess you are at your shop now.”
“No, ma. I am at home.”
She exhaled. After a long pause, she said, “I know your thoughts are mirrowing mine. From the conversation earlier, what we both think now couldn’t be far from the truth. Judging from what I have heard from both of you, I think your girl, Peace, was drugged and raped by her boss with or without the consent of his wife.”
“Aiiieee!” a cry escaped my mouth. I slipped from the sofa to the floor. The weight of the moment pulled me down as the tears began to flow freely. This had been whirling in my mind, but hearing someone put words to it did something to me. Something I have no words for.
Drugged and raped. Peace. Oh my Peace. Living in that house, trusting the people that had so wickedly taken advantage of her. Oh!
The woman on the phone stayed quiet. She let me sob for a while. She understood.
When she spoke, her voice was some decibels lower than it was before. I sensed she too had cried.She had cried for the injustice done to a girl who could have been hers or mine.
“I shouldn’t have taken her there,” I was finally able to whisper.
“Don’t do that to yourself,” she cautioned gently. “You only tried to help her …,”
“Ma, Wh-What do we do next?” I stuttered.
The conversion had ended. I remained on the floor, too weak to lift myself from the dungeon I had been plunged into. My mind was rehashing everything: from the moment I met Aunty Mo to now.
____________________________
I used to work for a cookie-making company as a clerical staff. That was where I met her, Maureen Dike. She was a top executive at the company. A woman of means. She drove nice cars, wore clothes and jewellery that spoke quiet luxury. When she leaves a room, the scent of her expensive perfume lingers on.
We came to call her Aunty Mo because, unlike the other C-suiters, she had no airs about her. She would stop to greet us; the low-level staff. She greeted us by name and made small talks with us. Word filtered through the grapevine that she had no children and had been trying for years. She and her husband, a wealthy businessman, had travelled far and wide in search of medical help, all to no avail. You wouldn’t know this from her demeanour. She was always calm, and willing to help.
Those were hard times for my family. My husband was laid off his job and while searching for another, I was shouldering our family’s responsibilities. When I learnt Aunty Mo’s route to work was a bit close to mine. I spoke to her, and she agreed without hesitation to let me carpool with her to and from work. She would pick me up at a junction in the morning and drop me off same place in the evening. That was how our friendship began.
One day on our ride home, she brought up her fertility struggles. We had steered off this topic for obvious reasons. I could tell it wasn’t just small talk, she was testing the waters, guaging my reaction. I had dreaded this moment. I was scared I wouldn’t know what to say to her. Before I could offer her words of comfort, she said “Rita, I know you have heard the rumours. Don’t pretend you haven’t.”
“And don’t tell me “It’s well.” If I hear that phrase from you, I will stop riding with you.” She laughed.
I could hear the exhaustion in her voice. Exhaustion from years of trying, hoping, failing and trying again without result. I was pained. That night, I prayed fervently for Aunty Mo.I prayed for God to give her the one thing she desperately wanted – a child.
Aunty Mo spoke to a few people about my husband. While we were following up a potential lead she had mentioned to us, he was called to resume at a place we thought wouldn’t fall through. I was relieved. It was Aunty Mo who convinced me to see reasons with my husband when he asked me to quit the job and start a business.
Our friendship blossomed after I left the company. She would drive all the way to my shop, bypassing big, flashy supermarkets just to buy from me. If that isn’t true friendship, what is?
The first time I visited her home, I met her husband. They were like two peas in a pod. They were obviously still in love with each other. If it were within my power, these two would lack nothing in life. Nothing.
When Aunty Mo asked me to find her a live-in help, I didn’t hesitate. Knowing her and her husband, I was certain that whoever lived with them would be better off for it.
My first thought was Peace. The last time I traveled home, she had approached me, begging for an opportunity to go live with someone in the city. She had heard about the two people I had previously connected with families. I assured her that when an opportunity arose, I would reach out to her family.
This was it, I thought to myself.
____________________________
The sound of the boys coming home jolted me back to the present. I gripped the sofa to steady myself as I got up, went to wash my face in the bathroom. They bursted through the door with their usual energy, surprised to see me home. We exchanged hellos before I retreated into our room. At fourteen, they would carry on as if I was at the shop.
I was alone with my thoughts when my husband came home. One look at me, and he knew there was a problem. Thankfully, the tears had ceased. I told him everything. Offor had always been a good listener. He didn’t interrupt nor jump to conclusions. He just listened.
When I finished, I waited for his reaction.
He cleared his throat. “Rita, you …”
“I shouldn’t have taken her there. I should have …”
He moved closer, gently squeezed my shoulder “Rita, you acted on the knowledge you had. You trusted Aunty Mo because she earned that trust.” He paused. “Now, you know better, and you will do better.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. I needed this support. His presence grounded me. I am not alone in this. Peace is not alone.
“What do we do now?” I asked, exhausted
“We would follow the advice given by your Facebook friend. That’s the only way to draw them out.”
___________________________
It was a Saturday morning, Peace had confirmed the Dikes were home. I had planned another ambush, this time with Offor and our Facebook friend, Mrs. O. We had been in contact with her. We hadn’t reached Peace’s parents because we had some loose ends to tie. We needed an evidence-a confession that would take this from being mere assumptions to facts.
They were lounging in the sitting area when we arrived, Offor and I. I saw a flicker of panic on both their faces, but they concealed it well. Aunty Mo rose to her feet.
“Rita, I didn’t know you were coming.”
It took all of my willpower not to scratch her face. How could she be this pretentious?
“We have come to take Peace home.” I said as calmly as I could manage.
“Take Peace home? Why so suddenly?” She asked, her voice neutral.
I was done! I was done reigning in my emotions.
“Maureen, when were you going to tell me that Peace is pregnant? Why did you hide it from me for five months? What were you thinking-that nobody would know? That girl is our responsiblity! I went to her parents to vouch for you. If anything happened to her, I thought I should be the next to know after you. You think its just normal for a teenager to spot a growing belly?” My whole frame shook from anger. The couple were exchanging wary glances.
“Did you bother looking for the boy who got her pregnant? You didn’t. Did you stop to ponder what would happen if she had complications and died before, during or after childbirth? You assumed nobody would ask questions?” My voice rose with each question. “For how long did you both intend to keep this up this foolishness?”
“Well, it ends today. We are leaving here with Peace and we will find her boyfriend. It’s high time he took responsibility for his actions.”
“Peace! Peace!” I shouted.
She appeared by the doorway.
“Get your bags, we leave this instant.”
I saw Mr. Dike’s jaw tighten as he stood up from his chair. Aunty Mo closed the gap between us, I noticed her sweaty palms. When she spoke, her voice was shaky.
“Rita, please. We made a terrible mistake. The boy has nothing to offer her.”
“A mistake? Really?” I laughed. “Maureen, a mistake would have been not saying something the first week you noticed, but 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 months later, that is very intentional.” I drawled. “The boy has nothing to offer, right? Is that the only reason why you kept it hidden or there is something else I should know?”
“Something like what?” Mr. Dike retorted.
“Oh, you found your voice, sir.” I said sacarstically. Sidestepping Aunty Mo, I moved closer to her husband, levelling my gaze with his.
“Did you really travel that day or you were lurking around somewhere waiting for the perfect time to strike?”
He flinched as though I had slapped him. “How dare you …?”
“Mr. Dike,” I cut him off. “I will say this to you this once. If there is something you want to say to us, please say it now. If We leave here with Peace, be rest assured you will never set your eyes on her again, and if the child she is carrying is yours, you will never see him or her either. I promise you that.”
That had the needed effect. I could see his defences crack.
Mr. Dike exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. A long pause followed.
“Fine,” he muttered, his voice heavy with resignation. “You’re right.”
I heard Aunty Mo gasp behind me.
“Did you drug and rape her?” Offor, who had been quite all this while asked. He had been recording the conversation secretly, the evidence we needed.
The silence that followed was thick with unspoken truths.
Our gazes were still fixed on Mr. Dike, who had slumped into the chair behind him when we heard loud sobs.
Peace. We had forgotten she was right there. Crumpled on the floor by the doorway.
I ran to her. My heart broke anew.
Realization had hit her. The truth had come to light. It wasn’t a wet dream after all. It was the man she looked up to as a father. He had raped her. With her boyfriend, she gave consent. This man took without asking, and he had left his seed inside her. The woman she had admired was in on this from the start. They had violated and brainwashed her.
What a betrayal! What a crime!
I held her, cried with her, and steadied myself to comfort her. It took some time. The girl was broken.
Someone was sniffling beside us. I looked up to see Aunty Mo. She held out a bottle of water to me.
“Do you want to drug me too?” I queried her.
“Rita, please. She needs water,” she said, pointing at Peace.
I took the bottle, opened it, and forced Peace to drink. I sipped some too.
I was still cradling Peace on the floor where we sat when Offor and Mr. Dike re-entered the room. They had excused us while our emotions ran their course.
Mr. Dike had paled; extra lines had appeared on his temples. Aunty Mo had shrunk. She looked like a shadow of herself. The only strong person here was Offor. I was so grateful he came with me.
Offor went on to lead the conversation we had from then on. It was a long one.
The Dikes confessed to their crime. They begged to settle things quietly. I wanted justice for Peace, but I also wanted her to be free, to have a real chance at a future. That was why I had brought her here in the first place. Things had not gone as planned, but I was determined to get her a good deal.
It was agreed that she would come home with us. Offor and I would go meet her parents and inform them of this development (I dreaded this. I have relived the scenarios that would play out on this occasion so much I had dreamt of being beaten up in her father’s compound). Offor had reassured me nothing of the sort will happen, but I couldn’t shake off the fear. The Dikes would accompany us at a later date.
The Dikes would send her to study abroad after she gave birth. They will have access to the child.
These were the agreements we reached. I knew there would be some fine-tuning, especially after we met her parents, but whatever happens, Peace will be well taken care of. I would see to that.
We were done here. Neither Aunty Mo nor her husband knew we had everything on tape. I couldn’t wait to make copies of that and store them away for when they wanted to make troubles, now or in the future.
I held a weak Peace to my side as we walked out of the house. Offor was wheeling her luggage. As we approached the gate, Aunty Mo came to stand before us. She stretched her hand to hold me, but I shoved it off.
“You watched me bring this girl into your home, believing she would be safe with you.” My voice shook with restrained fury. “Instead, you drugged her and let your husband rape her. You turned her to a guinea pig for your experiments.”
“You betrayed my trust, Maureen. Remember, I am not the final authority on her life. If her parents say no to your proposal, I will see you in court.”
Her lips quivered as I turned and walked away.
Read the first and second parts here:
