We scaled the rough paths of life called every day until a nightmare appeared before my sisters and I. This nightmare was Chief Obi Okoro, a friend of Papa. Chief Obi was older than Papa by quite a number of years. The vastly spread white curls on his chest and head told us so.

On one of the calm sunny days in Mariba, Chief Obi paid a visit to our home with a proposition in his heart but a crooked smile on his face. He graced Papa’s feet with hens, eggs and a goat and at the sound of Papa’s laughter that spilled ‘greed’, his proposition flew off his plump lips.

“Chief Okonwo I have come here today with one purpose. I seek a favour from you.” He said.

“What is it my good friend? Ask whatever you want and I will give it to you.” Papa said, the word friend hung lightly on his lips.

“I seek the hand of your first daughter Chima, in marriage. I want her to be my sixth wife and the mother of other children that will leave my loins. Chief Okonkwo, I want you to give me your first daughter for the price of my yam farm in Ojoto.”

My sisters and I were at dismay at after we heard Chief Obi’s words. For the sake of fragile hope, we stared at our father but his eyes were too busy counting the acres of farmland Chief Obi possessed. A smile appeared on his face and at that moment we knew that Chima was going to become a wife. It hurt us, it hurt Chima but the price gave Papa joy.

Minutes after Chief Obi left our home, my sisters and I prepared an enticing dish drenched in numerous pieces of goat meat just the way Papa liked it. As women, we had been thought in our village that the easiest way to reach a man’s heart was by pleasing his stomach. We decided to please Papa with the cooking skills we had learnt from our mother who had died five years after I was born.

Papa licked his fingers and traced the leaves and oil from the soup off his elbows. He smacked his lips and we knew he was satisfied. Chima, Nkechi and I knew that was the right time to approach Papa. So with fear in our hearts but hope present like a thread within ice, we spoke to our father, the words of our heart.

“Papa my sisters and I have something to tell you concerning Chief Obi’s proposition.” Chima started being the eldest of us all.

“Yes, what do you three have to say? I’m listening.” Papa said.

“Papa we think it’s too sudden for Chima to get married…” Nkechi continued but Papa interrupted, with a frightening stance.

“Shut that mouth of yours! Too sudden for what? Marriage?! I know I have not been a great father to you three but accepting Chief Obi’s proposition has made me the best father in the world! After all, Chima is already twenty two years of age, what is she doing in my house?! Is this not the right time for her to start producing the next generation of our household?!” the lion had begun to roar.

We all knew it was a bad sign so without instructions, we knelt down and seasoned our words even more.

I kept quiet, the bruise Papa had imprinted on my left shoulder a day ago had just begun to heal and I knew death would be an assurance if I took one more hit so I stayed calm.

“Papa it’s not awful that you want me to get married at this age. It is a blessing actually but there is just one little problem.” Chima said.

“What problem?”

“Papa I…I…I have someone else.” Chima stuttered. She took a step away from Papa and so did we.

“What do you mean by that?” Papa asked.

We took another step back. Chima shivered.

“Papa you are our only father whom we adore though we do not deserve it and we just wanted you to know about this little problem. What Chima is trying to say is that there is another man she adores. He is a man who is ready to marry her and grant you your wish to see the next generation.” Nkechi supported. I maintained my silence.

“And what is wrong with my friend Chief Obi?” Papa asked. I bit my fingers.

“Papa he…he…is…”Nkechi stuttered.

“Papa he is old. Please Papa you must understand. The man is older than you.” Chima pleaded.

“It doesn’t matter if he is sixty five. What difference does it make? A man will always be a man. No matter the number of white and grey on his skin, he will still satisfy you.” Papa laughed hysterically.

“So you don’t want to marry Chief Obi? Is that what you are saying Chima?”

“Yes Papa. Please I do not want to marry a man that would be eighty when our first child would be ripe for marriage.”

“I have heard.” Papa said and walked into the house. Others had a hut for refuge but ours was made of bricks, since Papa was a Chief.

“Perhaps Nkechi’s praises worked.” I told my sisters.

We all began to smile. But our smile eluded us as swiftly as lightening on the first storm after many suns, when Papa came out of the house.

Papa held a machete sharp enough to separate a bull’s head from its torso and like a mad man he chanted on and on words that our hearts rejected.

“How many times have I told you three about the purpose of a woman?! The only reason for your existence is to produce children and that is all! You have no business with education, finance or farming. All you have to do is look pretty and bear fruit! Finish! Is it that hard?!! How many moons have passed but you three would never listen!! You have no right to make a choice on whom to marry. You do not choose men, men choose you!! You useless curses upon my soul!! Go thank the gods that a farm land had kept you alive! If not for Chief Obi’s proposition I would have chopped off your head Chima! You better warn those sisters of yours as well!! Their time here is as short as yours!!Useless idiots! Fools!”

We ran through bushes just to get away from Papa’s voice. We made a stop at the only stream in the village.

I looked at my sisters. They smiled as though nothing had happened. Maybe it was because they had reached the earth before me. Their hearts seemed merry but mine hoarded sorrow when my memories began to recall Papa’s awful words.

Chima walked to me and patted my back. She asked a question so simple and at the answer my heart gave, the tears vanished.

“Nneka, his words or yours?” she had asked.

With a piece of joy in my heart born from seconds of lamentation, I looked at Chima’s face. She smiled like she always did but her eyes held sorrow darker than the calabash at twilight.

I knew what was next, we all knew but my sisters and I kept our smiles on our faces and talked about the kind of children Chima would have with the man she truly loved. You could call it foolishness but we called it faith, our only way to survive.