Pregnant Future

By Joy Nwosu Lo-Bamijoko

This is the story of Justina. A young girl who found herself alone in the world to swim “the shark infested water” that the world represents.

Although the future was not clear to her, she dreamt for herself, a future she wanted to live. Then, she jumped into her dream life with both legs, and without fear, she swam the troubled waters of life, scaling and dodging all obstacles.

Justina is every young woman who found herself alone in the world to fend for herself. It is the story of the pitfalls that await such a woman. It is the story of survival

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joy Nwosu Lo-Bamijoko
• Release date: Feb 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9780692829929

Joy Nwosu Lo-Bamijoko

Now retired, Joy Nwosu Lo-Bamijoko of Nigeria was a music teacher trained in Santa Cecilia, Rome. She obtained her Ph.D. in music education from the University of Michigan. She has written books, and published extensively in national and international scholarly journals, magazines, and newspapers.

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PREGNANT FUTURE

(No One Knows What Tomorrow Will Bring)

Copyright Matters

Copyright © 2017 Joy Nwosu Lo-Bamijoko

All rights reserved.

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This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

For more information, send an email to [e-mail].

For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Author Joy Nwosu Lo-Bamijoko

ISBN: 978-0-692-82992-9

Published in the United States of America

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to the two people who have impacted my life in a way that has remained indelible. First, I want to remember Giavanni Vento, a man of gentle spirit, who took me under his wings when I was losing it in Rome. He gathered me, as you would gather a broken and scattered object, and nurtured me back to life. Gianni, may your soul rest in perfect peace.

Second, I would like to remember a little boy, who was just a baby, whose life was truncated before he could see the light. I hope, little Gianni, that my saliva was enough to give your soul rest.

With this book, I want to bring closure to how, at one time in my life, I went into the deeps, and God saved me.

To God Be the Glory!

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I am deeply indebted to the following people:

Harmony Kent. She was the first to lay eyes on my disjointed manuscript, and line edit and proof it. Although she had painstakingly edited and proofed my manuscript, I was still very dissatisfied with it. I told her I wanted other eyes to go through the manuscript, and she suggested Beta Readers to help with developmental issues. At the end of it all, Harmony did the final proof clean up, and formatted my manuscript ready for print. Thank you Harmony.

Kathy Golden was the first to evaluate my manuscript after Harmony. By her going through my manuscript, I came to understand why I was not so happy with it. A lot of issues I was too lazy to address came to light. She suggested I send the manuscript to more readers, and so I did. In the end, again, I sent my manuscript back to Kathy for a final proof. Thank you Kathy. Your suggestions have greatly improved my manuscript.

My first beta reader was Nori Horvitz. Thank you so much Nori for the time you took in going through my manuscript. I enjoyed your comments. Because Nori simply talked about her likes and dislikes, and in my search for more objective comments, I decided to try a second reader.

Kathy Golden had suggested the Pro Beta Readers to me that first time. So, I got in touch with Alexandra Johns, of the Pro Beta Readers, and she went to work on my manuscript. She was blunt with me at the end of her read. This was exactly what I was looking for, someone to tell me what was wrong, and how to fix it. That is what I got from Alexandra.

After her first read through, I made my correction, additions, and omissions. I cut and pasted, and moved scenes around. In the end, even I started liking what I was reading. I sent the manuscript to Alexandra for the second time, and this time her comments were very encouraging. I knew I had hit the right chord. Thank you so much, Alexandra. Thank you for your time and patience.Before sending my manuscript to press, I decided one more time to have someone give it a final edit. Yes, I did the whole thing all over again. This time, I contacted Nonnie Jules of the 4WillsPublishing to give my work a final clean-up. Good thing I did. When the comments came back, I was shocked to see how many errors she discovered. The good thing is that, after this final check-up, I started liking what I was reading. My story had finally taken shape. Thank you, Nonnie Jules.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PREGNANT FUTURE

(No One Knows What Tomorrow Will Bring)

1. Baptist Day School, Port Harcourt

2. C.M.S (Christ Missionary Society)

School, Uwani

3. Young Love

4. St. Monica’s College, Ogbunike

5. C.M.S. School, Ogwi

6. Holy Rosary College, Enugu

7. A Promise is a Promise (The Dilemma)

8. The Journey of a Lifetime

9. Rome

10. The Holy Child Hostel, Rome

11. Perugia

12. Back in Rome

13. The Trip

14. Tina in London

15. The Premier Sham

16. The Showdown

17. Tina Loses It

18. Tina and Alberto

19. Survival

20. Back in Nigeria

21. The Ghosts Return

BAPTIST DAY SCHOOL, PORT HARCOURT

I lost my dearly beloved father at the tender age of four, although sometimes, I believe I must have been seven instead, because I remember him so well. Even today, it seems as if I grew up with him.

My mother didn’t always treat me fairly, but she was a hard-working mother, who labored tirelessly to see that her seven children received the best education, irrespective of their gender, and she was the reason I got the chance of an education that propelled me into who I am today.

My life has been filled with pitfalls. It’s also been one of wonders and filled with miracles because I was blessed with Nuns who instructed me, protected me, and guided me.

I will never forget my principal, whom I called Sister Mary in this story. She was the principal at the Holy Rosary College, Enugu, who not only protected me, but also made sure that her spirit followed and continued to guide me in Rome.

Sister Mary gave me a short prayer that became my instrument of war, especially when the darkness threatened to swallow me:

In danger, in difficulties, in things doubtful, think about Mary, Call upon Mary

Do not let her name depart out of your mouth or from your heart

And that thou mayest obtain the benefits of her prayers

Do not abandon the benefits of her conduct

Following her, thou doest not stray

Praying to her, thou doest not despair

Thinking of her, thou doest not err

Supported by her, thou doest not fall

Led by her, thou doest not tire

If she is favorable, thou succeedest

And so thou dost experience in thyself with what justice it is said

And the Virgin’s name is Mary

Sister Mary told me to memorize and read this prayer any time I needed help from God, and this prayer still sustains me today.

***

At the end of every term in Port Harcourt, the boys waylaid me and beat me up for always coming first in class. After our grades had been posted, they hid in trees and behind tree trunks and would jump me all at once, when I left the school premises.

Every year for four years, from the time I entered Standard One at the age of nine until I reached Standard Four, I suffered this abuse. By 1954, I’d had enough and so I decided to transfer myself to another school, in another town.

Before the end of the final term that year, I went to the Head Master, Mr. Ejiri, to inform him that I would not be returning to his school the following year.

Sir, I would like a transfer certificate at the end of this school year.

Why? Are you dropping out of school? Mr. Ejiri asked with a worried frown. Mr. Ejiri

was a typical colonial headmaster. He wore a uniform to school—short greenish khaki shorts, which he wore with a grey shirt firmly tucked into his shorts, along with brown knee-high socks, and black boots. On scout meeting days, he topped his uniform with a black beret, which he wore slanted on his head. He always had a whistle hanging from his left shirt pocket, and a cane hung on the right side of his knickers’ black belt. He toyed absently with the tip of his mustache whenever he worked at his desk or sat deep in thought. Although a good-natured man, he could be strict. He wasn’t a tall man, but what he missed in height or body weight, he made up for with his imposing uniform.

No, Sir, my mother wants me back with her in Enugu.

My mother didn’t know anything about this, and neither did my aunt, with whom I lived in Port Harcourt. I was just tired of having to fight off boys who refused to let up on me. It was either I stopped being the smartest in class and let one of the boys have that title, or I intentionally failed class altogether, so that the boys would shine. I had done this once—purposely flunked one subject, an Arithmetic test so that one of the boys would be deemed the more outstanding, but even that wasn’t enough for them. The boys still mobbed me after the results were read because I came in second. Those boys simply wanted me to fail, and nothing else would have made them happy.

To make things worse, my uncle beat me for coming in second that time. After that beating, I decided I’d stay on top in my class and just take the beating from the boys instead.

At the end of the school year, as requested, Mr. Ejiri had my transfer papers ready. I was happy when he gave the papers to me personally, so my transfer to Enugu would be my secret alone.

After collecting my transfer papers, I stopped at the school gate in front of the school and looked around for the boys, who I knew would be lurking somewhere, waiting for me to exit the school compound. And surely, I spotted one of them. He was holding a long cane, leaning on a tree trunk in front of the school, and staring at me as if he was daring me to step out. The others must have been hiding on top of the tree or somewhere nearby. Frightened, I turned and walked back into the school and headed straight for Mr. Ejiri’s office. I sat on a chair outside his office, and waited for him to be free so that I could ask him to escort me out of the building.

From where I sat, I could see all the boys, even those hiding on top of the tree. Finally, Mr. Ejiri exited his office ready to go home and saw me sitting there.

Any problem? he asked

Yes, Sir. The boys are waiting for me outside to jump me. I showed Mr. Ejiri the boys through his window, and all the places they were hiding.

You mean those boys are still after you for coming first in class?

Always, Mr. Ejiri, always. They never stopped. I heard them say that this time they were going to leave a mark on me, for me to remember them by, now that I am leaving.

So … that is their plan? We shall see … Mr. Ejiri went back to his office, put his briefcase down, picked up his cane, and walked out of the school with me trailing behind him. The boy leaning on the tree trunk saw him and ran off, but Mr. Ejiri called him by name and ordered him to stop. He did. The headmaster asked those on the treetop to come down from their hiding places, and one by one, they did. Altogether, five boys stood in a ragged group on the ground.

"As you all know, this is Tina’s last year in our school. In the past, I have suspended you

boys from school for molesting her, but this time, I am going to do something different."

They all stood holding their long sticks with which they’d intended to beat me.

Tina, the Headmaster called. Startled, I looked at him. Take a good look at these boys, he said. Can you tell me that you can’t beat every one of them if you take them one at a time? Mr. Ejiri saw me as a big, robust girl, bigger than some of the boys harassing me.

Suddenly, I realized that the Headmaster planned to pit me against each of the boys. But, of course, I knew that I could beat them if they came at me one at a time.

"Sure, Mr. Ejiri, I can beat them one-on-one.

Then, in that case, let’s all go back to the football field.

We all trooped back to the football field behind the school. Lucky for the boys, the school had already begun vacation, and the place was deserted.

Okay, boys, you like beating Tina? I’m going to allow Tina to defend herself today, but you will all fight her, one boy at a time.

I felt happy and ready to take my revenge on them, for all the years of harassment and beatings I had endured at their hands.

Jimmy jumped out first to fight me. He was a mulatto boy with curly brown hair and cat-like brown eyes. Jimmy’s grandparents brought him up as their own son. They could never discipline him, and he grew up wild. Jimmy had stubby fingers with dirty, scraggly nails, which he bit on. More than once, he’d been caught sucking his thumb. Jimmy was also the ringleader of the bunch. A big boy, too big to be in the school, and not very smart, he used his size to control and intimidate other boys into doing his bidding. Jimmy sauntered toward me with one hand in his pocket, and the other twisting a matchstick in his mouth. He cocked his head to the side and looked me up and down, right and left, to size me up. I frowned, wondering what that look meant, as Mr. Ejiri stood there as the referee. I wasn’t afraid of Jimmy, as long as Mr. Ejiri was there to ensure fair play.

So, you have agreed to fight me after all these years, and you are not afraid? Jimmy, with lowered voice and darkened eyes, asked in a minacious tone. Then, he quickly grabbed my right hand and tried to twist it behind my back, but I turned around and twirled his hand behind his back. Not expecting this turn of events, he tried to fight me off, hitting and kicking at me, but I knew well enough not to let go. I succeeded in grabbing his loose hand and wriggled both hands backward at the same time. As I did that, I contorted my body and Jimmy’s hand so out of shape that it forced him to his knees. I then stepped on his legs, pressed his mangled hands on his head, and pushed his face into the ground. The other boys itched to come to his aid, but the Headmaster kept them at bay.

When I finally had Jimmy flat on his face, I continued to hold tight to his contorted hands. I banged his head until his face became bloodied, and yet, he didn’t make a sound. When Mr. Ejiri saw his bloodied face, he stopped the fight by pulling me off Jimmy’s back.

Too ashamed to stand up, Jimmy stayed face down in the dirt and sobbed quietly. Mr. Ejiri turned to the other boys and asked them who wanted to go next, but they all shook their heads with vigor. None of them wanted to fight me. Mr. Ejiri told them to take Jimmy and themselves to his office, and then told me to go home.

My name is Justina. Everyone calls me Tina. I am number five in a family of seven: five boys, and two girls. I am the youngest of the girls, and the most disadvantaged because of my position in the family. I do all the housework, the cooking, fetching, and I have also taken a lot of beatings from gangs of boys, but especially from my older sister, Tessy. She punches me for no reason, any time she feels like it. My hope is to one day, look my oppressors in the eye, and know that they cannot hurt me anymore.

C.M.S SCHOOL, UWANI

After that incident with Jimmy, I vowed that I would never allow myself to be bullied again by a boy. Ofor was just unlucky, as he didn’t know who he was meddling with, the day he challenged me at the Cassava farm.

At this new school, I was minding my business, when the school bully, Jideofor (Ofor for short) stalked me, or looked for my trouble, as we say. At the beginning of class one morning,