Wehena stared down at me and smiled. I tried to get up but dizziness engulfed me. She gave me a hot potion to drink from a calabash and told me to rest because I was with child. Shivering and in shock, I suddenly remembered what had happened between Manya and I the night before.
At last, I was going to have a child, now my husband would love me dearly, now the gossips would stop. Day by day my baby grew and Manya walked tall in the village. Wehena, brought food for me every now and then; she was proud that her first grandchild was on the way. We all looked forward to the arrival of this child. Finally the day came.
Manya held the baby smiling but there was a sad line around the corner of his mouth. We celebrated and named her, Shela . A few days later Mama visited me to shower some love on her first grandchild. She asked me about a scar she saw on my face, I told her it was just a farm work injury. Then she said, “Tarra, I hope you get pregnant soon again”. I laughed. “Come on mama Shela, is just a few days old, and I’m still healing up”. She smiled and told me that a woman can only earn respect and show the strength of her husband when she gives him a son. I had seen the shadow cross Manya’s face as he held his daughter the day she was born.
Excerpt from my short story, “Face in the Mirror”.
Every child boy or girl is a great gift.
Many girls lift and hold the hands of their fathers at old age
Gender does not determine strength.
Photo Credit: Angry father Stock Photos
Adebisi Adetunji (C)