“I emptied a 5-liter keg of RED PALM OIL on the bride’s white wedding gown. Yes, I did it. And if I have the chance, I will do it again!”
They are currently dragging me on social media. They are calling me a witch, a bitter woman, a destroyer of joy.
But before you judge me, please hear my side of the story.
If you were in my shoes, you would have done worse. You would have burned down the hall.
My name is Chioma. I have been married to Emeka for seven years. Seven years of suffering, praying, and fasting because we had no child.
I went to every mountain. I drank every herbal mixture. My mother-in-law insulted me daily. “Chioma the dry wood,” she called me.
Through it all, my husband Emeka was my rock. Or so I thought.
“Don’t mind my mother,” he would say, wiping my tears. “I love you with or without a child. You are my world.”
Last week Friday, Emeka told me he was traveling to China to import spare parts.
“Baby, I will be gone for two weeks,” he said, kissing my forehead. “Pray for me.”
I packed his bag. I even put his favorite Bible inside. I escorted him to the airport. I waved until he disappeared.
On Saturday morning, I was in the market buying foodstuff when my phone rang.
It was an unknown number.
“Madam Chioma?” a voice whispered. “Your husband is not in China. He is in Nnewi.”
I laughed. “My husband is on a flight. Please stop playing pranks.”
“I am sending you a video now,” the voice said.
The video came in via WhatsApp. My hands shook as I pressed play.
It was a video of a traditional wedding happening LIVE.
And there, dancing in the middle of the crowd, wearing expensive George material and coral beads, was Emeka. My Emeka.
But that was not the shock.
The bride he was dancing with, the woman he was spraying money on…
IT WAS MY YOUNGER SISTER, NKECHI.
The phone fell from my hand.
My own blood sister? The one I paid her school fees through university? The one living in my boys’ quarters?
She told me she was going for a friend’s wedding in the village.
I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. A cold madness entered my spirit.
I left the market. I didn’t go home. I entered a bus straight to Nnewi.
The journey took 5 hours. Throughout the journey, I didn’t blink. I was visualizing what I would do.
When I got to the venue, the reception was in full swing. The DJ was playing “Odogwu.”
I walked to a nearby stall and bought a 5-liter keg of thick, red palm oil. I asked the woman to open the seal for me.
I tied my headtie firmly.
I walked into the reception hall. People were cheering. Emeka and Nkechi were on the stage, cutting the cake. They looked so happy. My mother-in-law was dancing behind them, shouting “Finally! A fertile woman!”
I walked straight to the stage.
No one stopped me because I looked calm. They probably thought I was a guest bringing a gift.
I climbed the steps.
Emeka saw me first. The knife fell from his hand. His face turned the color of ashes.
“Chi… Chioma?” he stammered. “I can explain…”
Nkechi turned and saw me. She opened her mouth to scream.
I didn’t say a word.
I lifted the keg and POURED the entire content on Nkechi, from her head to her toe.
The white gown turned blood red. The oil dripped into her eyes, her mouth. She looked like a masquerade.
The hall went silent.
Then I slapped Emeka. A thunderous slap that reset his brain.
“Is this the China?” I asked.
Pandemonium broke out. My mother-in-law fainted. People rushed to hold me.
But as they were dragging me away, Nkechi wiped the oil from her face and shouted something that made everyone freeze.
“You are wicked, Chioma! YES, I snatched him! Because you have a heavy curse on your head! Mom told us that anyone who has a child with you will d!e! Emeka wanted to live!”
I stopped struggling.
My mother… told them that?
I looked at Emeka. He was looking down, avoiding my eyes.
“Is it true?” I whispered.
He nodded slowly. “Your mother took me to a native doctor… she said your womb was used for money ritual by your late father… that if I touch it, I will d!e within 7 days of your pregnancy.”
My world is spinning.
My father d!ed ten years ago. He was a Deacon in the church. Money ritual?
I am currently at the police station. Emeka is begging them to release me. But I don’t want to go home.
I need to find out the truth about my father.
AND WHAT I JUST FOUND IN MY FATHER’S OLD DIARY HAS EXPOSED A SECRET THAT WILL DESTROY MY ENTIRE VILLAGE. 😭
Drop a comment if you want to see the contents of the diary!…
