It took the grace of God to survive. Mr. John met with Barrister Frank to request for his share of the inheritance. He transferred the two million naira into his account. They moved from the central area of Abuja to a Gwagwalada local government area. Bunmi, who had never visited the small villages in Abuja, stared through the window of the rented hilliux that moved their luggage. Though it didn’t affect her much.

Mr. John thought about buying a land and building a house, but the expenses to have such luxury even in a rural area of Abuja were more than what he had expected. He settled for renting a flat, as there wasn’t enough time to do much planning. Mr. Mayowa created a small garden where he planted spinach, pepper, tomatoes, groundnut, and maize for home use. Rebecca opened a small provision store in front of the rented house. It was spacious enough for the family. 

Mr. John also settled his son’s school fees at the all-boys boarding school. He was to resume in a week. The family arranged their new house. Bunmi loved that despite the tough situation, they had their own space.

“I can’t wait to have new friends and probably school here. I won’t miss Alex so much when he leaves.” Then she paused, chewing on her fingernail. “What about me? Where would I school?” Bunmi asked Rebecca.

“Oh, that reminds me!” Mrs. John exclaimed, tapping her forehead lightly. “We haven’t informed your school that you won’t be joining them for the next session. I will find an excellent school around for you, Bunmi.”

Informing the proprietor of the Great Heights Academy about the situation brought him to sympathy. He provided Bunmi with a scholarship for her basic education at his school. The proprietor also promised that the school bus would transport her to and from school every day. He knew how brilliant Bunmi was. Her late parents also contributed immensely to the school's development. 

Bunmi's elation upon hearing about her scholarship was so great that she jumped and danced in joy. It would save them lots of money and stress.

“So I won’t change school? That’s so much relief.” Thinking about what Alex’s mum said made Bunmi smile. The corners of her delicate eyes wrinkled up with crow’s feet.

“Yes, it is. Study hard and graduate with flying colours.” Rebecca encouraged, tapping her on the shoulder.

“Thanks, Anty.” Bunmi beamed, knowing they would love and care for her living with the Johns.

Somehow, she missed her parent’s compound. The relocation swept all her childhood memories under the carpet. It might take time, though, since Bunmi was interested in going back.

They promoted Bunmi to basic 4. It remained two years before she completes her primary education. It was painful that there were no vacant jobs. Mr. John couldn’t get a decent job in the city. He tried all his connections, but his efforts were in vain.

One Saturday morning, Bunmi sat quietly in a corner of her room, mending her torn school uniform. From time to time, she halted to watch Rebecca storm into the toilet to puke. It’s been only three months since they changed location and she looked slim and pale. Rebecca was busy in the kitchen preparing pap and moi-moi for breakfast. Bunmi couldn’t help but to wonder what was wrong.

“Are you sick, ma? You have been vomiting and see how your eyes are puffy.” Bunmi emphasized.

“I’ll be fine. I just have a little malaria.” Rebecca told her.

“Have you told Uncle? You should visit the hospital.”

“I would,” Rebecca paused, looking at Bunmi’s worried eyes. Then she smiled. A crescent-shaped dimpled that Bunmi never noticed formed on the right side of her cheek. "Can you pound the herb? It would stop my barfing and throwing up."

"Okay, Anty." Bunmi collected the dried leaves and put them into a small mortar. She pounded it till it powered, then she poured it into a dry, flat plate.

“Wow, smooth. Thank you.” Rebecca smiled and collected the powdered herb. Your food is ready. She said and mixed the powdered herb in her pap. Bunmi watched her mix it and drink up the content. After a while, she started rubbing her eyes and her head. As if something was wrong.

“Is everything alright?” Bunmi asked again, in curiosity.

“No, I’m fine. My eyes are just itchy. Mrs. John whined like a child.” She hadn’t even touched her moi-moi. She stood as if going to her room, her hand pinched the bridge of her nose as she halted. Rebecca’s eyes gently shut closed, then it tightened. In the next second, she stumbled to the floor, unconscious. 

“Mrs. John!” Bunmi rushed to her with a racing heart. She held onto her hand, but she didn’t move. Something was definitely wrong.

Out of thought, Bunmi, who was only 8, ran out of the house to alert their neighbors for help. Mr. John stepped out to only God knows where. She hadn’t woken up when he stepped out that morning. And he’s yet to be back.

“Please, help me. My aunt just passed out.” Bunmi cried out to the people whose houses were opposite hers.

They rushed her to a nearby private hospital, where she received treatment. It was almost an hour when Mr. John ran into the hospital.

“I heard from the neighbours that they admitted my wife here. Where is she?” He stormed at the reception nurse, restless.

Just then, he realized that the environment was calm, and she was just disturbed. A few awaiting patients at the reception gave him weird stares.

“What is your name, sir?” the young nurse raised a brow at him.

“Mr. Mayowa John. My wife is Rebecca John.”

The nurse looked through the record of the newly registered patient and raised her gaze to him. “Go to the first room on your right.”

“Okay, thank you.” He grinned with all his mouth and hurried in the direction.

To avoid the glances, Mr. John carefully opened the door. The doctors were checking his wife’s blood pressure, and Bunmi sat right before her. Mr. John entered the ward, flabbergasted.

“Rebecca, what happened?” He rushed to her, but she didn’t give him any reply

“How is my wife, doctor?”

“She’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with her. She just needs to rest more often and have a balanced diet.” The doctor replied to him in a low voice.

“What happened to you? Do you still feel pain?” Mr. John touched his wife’s forehead, but she flinched as if angry with him. “Sorry, I went to get more newspapers,” he explained further.

“She fainted earlier, Uncle. Thank God the neighbours came to our rescue.” Bunmi briefed him.

“Take this.” The doctor handed Mr. John a white envelope.

“What is this?” he frowned, opening the envelope.

“It’s the test result from the laboratory. Your wife is four weeks pregnant. Congratulations.”

“What? Is this real? I mean.... How possible?” Mr. John gasped in shock, out of words. His eyebrows raised under his frozen eyes.

Rebecca studied his expression. Her heart raced at the look of disappointment in his eyes.

Mr. John never expected this either, it was a miracle.

“You should register here for our antenatal programmes. We attach the antenatal pamphlet to the test result,” the doctor explained. “Excuse me.”

His head slightly bowed in respect as he stepped out of the ward. The doctor was a young, charming man. Bunmi’s eyes diverted to the couple once he stepped out.

Rebecca suddenly changed her demeanor as she pushed him aside and sat properly on the bed. Her hands held the edge, while her head dropped downward as if in thought.

“What is wrong, my dear?” his eyes rocked at hers as they shared an eye contact.

“Look at you! Just look at you. I wish I could wipe that bitter expression off your face, Mayowa. You don’t seem happy to hear this news. I am pregnant, you can’t even hug me.” with glassy eyes, her nose crinkled to the withheld tears.

It surprised Bunmi to what made her cry. Her reaction was confusing. It was weird sitting in the same room with the couple, but her curiosity made her wait.

Mr. John’s jaw clasped with his dilated pupils, focused on his wife. As if in the wrong, he bent to clasp his arms around her, but she pushed him away.

“Come on, Bunmi. Let’s go home.” Bunmi, who was with Rebecca's black hand purse, pulled out of the chair. Rebecca held her hand as they hurried out of the ward.

Unable to fathom what had just happened, Mr. John looked at the pregnancy result, stapled with the antenatal pamphlet. His firm hands tightened in a fist. The papers rumpled and dropped off his grip.

With closed eyes, both his hands held onto his forehead. He knew it would be difficult being a father of two without having a job.