The rains had now started beating harder on the corrugated iron sheets. That was at Mr. Martin's homestead. His wife was having a second child. The labor pains were getting unbearable. Soon, a little baby started crying. Immediately thereafter, shrieks of high pitched African ululations were heard because a new member of the family had arrived.
Mr. Martin paced up and down.
"It’s a girl!" someone alerted him. He was so happy because he exactly prayed so hard for a baby girl. He felt like a man. And a man he was indeed.
After a week, a naming ceremony was held. The little angel was named Fendula, meaning Sweet Queen. Mr. Martin now had to go back to work in a town far away from home. On the night
He traveled, Fendula fell ill. Since they all lived in the rural area, she had to wait till morning so that she could be taken to the hospital. Her mom could not sleep. Fendula kept crying throughout the night. She started breathing heavily. Fina, her elder brother, who was just three, held his mother's dress to give her strength and make her feel hopeful. It worked.
At dawn, Mama made some breakfast quickly and left Fina with an aunt who lived just across the road.
"Stay here as I take your little sister to the hospital, please behave, Fina, do not be a nuisance to aunty, huh?"
"Yes, mummy," Fina replied. He was a meek boy Fina.
She ran to the inlaw to ask for assistance with the baby.
"Why would I take you to the hospital, who told you to get married to my brother in the first place? I do not want to help strangers; your people are known for witchcraft and sorcery. Find someone else and leave. Now!"
"But please, it's not about me," she said as she knelt on the muddy ground and put her hands together begging.
" It is the baby's life at stake Uncle Paul," She pleaded.
"I said no!", He answered as he slammed the door behind him. She was helpless and helpless.
The other person who could help her lived far. The only option left was to walk all the way to the hospital.
She removed her old coat and covered the little angel. Little did she know that she, Fendula, was taking her last breathes as she was being held. The hospital was three kilometers away. She ran, walked, and ran again. Her baby, her life, the pain, the pregnancy, all this flashed in her mind in a flash. Upon reaching the hospital, she handed the baby to the nurse, who took her in the other room inside.
The nurse came after an hour.
"Madame, you lost her on your way here."
"Nooooo….Fendulaa noooo…" she yelled. After an hour, she composed herself and took her dead baby in her arms. She walked back home, crying with the baby in her arms.
She drafted a letter and sent it to Mr. Martin, informing her about the demise of Fendula.
Uncle Paul was shocked upon hearing the baby's demise. He could have saved her, but since he was a tribalist, a life was lost. Fendula was quickly buried, and it was not easy for Mama to forget all this. It wasn't. Fendula had lived to die.