Abby’s Diary: The Finale #1 By Fiksionist

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READ: Abby’s Diary #26 By Fiksionist

Dear Diary,

A little part of me wanted to keep faking my fainting spell and another part of me just wanted so bad to die and then be buried under a heap of stones or something miserable like that.

Yes, I had fainted in Shoprite and the embarrassment was epic but then again the darkness passed as fast as it came. Cheta had rushed me to the hospital but by the time we arrived, I was already awake (‘cause I hate needles) and the dizzy spell that literally swept me off my feet was gone. My mother had insisted we go back to Aunty Alero’s place to clear the issue and as much as I wanted to handle her myself, Cheta had insisted on dropping us both there after putting Ovie to sleep.

I said nothing to her on our way to Aunty Alero’s. My emotions ran wild, and as much as I wanted to ask questions, I was terribly afraid of what the answers will be. I heard the boy sob as she muttered under her breath and laughed. I hated her with all my heart and if only I could pull my livid emotions together, I would have channelled it to strangling her.

We got Aunty Alero’s and without a word, she hurried out of the car while I sat there in silence.

“I need to get going Abby.” Cheta said.

“What if I don’t want you to leave? What if I need you to stay with me for a little longer?” I said pleadingly. I needed him to understand what was going on.

“Then talk to me. I promise I will not leave, just let me in.” He turned to me and held my hand. His palm was warm and comforting. “Abigail I know this isn’t the right time but I do care about you…I do like you and I enjoy spending time with you. I like how you treat Ovie and how you listen when I tell you the tiniest and most irrelevant thing but you choose to remember. Abigail I want to be here for you and take care of you like you have been there for other people besides yourself. Please talk to me.”

I felt my eyes well up and tiny drops of tears dropped down my cheeks. “What of Zara? I thought…”

He laughed. “Zara was my girlfriend for four years until I lost my job at the bank. She had started dating some rich man who I later found out was your boss. She denied it at first but when she realised that I could no longer afford her, she told me to my face and broke up with me. That was when I met Ovie’s mother and moved to South Africa to pursue catering. Yes, she wanted us to start afresh when she realised the catering thing was going on well but I knew it wouldn’t work out. So this is me and now that you know, I want to know the truth. Please?”

I opened my mouth to speak but words failed me. Where do I begin?

“Cheta I really appreciate all you have done for me and just being here but I will talk to you when I am ready to. Please give me some time to handle this.” I pulled away from him and stepped out of the car. I knew I had to give him an explanation but I had to understand what was going on.


“So that is why I am here, to tell Abigail that the baby she wanted to kill is still alive. He would have died if I didn’t return to the house that day to save his life. Praise be to the Lord the Preist had taken him in and treated him like his son-“

“Like his son?” I sprang to my feet. “Like his son you say? The boy is his son for crying out loud!”

“Shut up there you ungrateful child! You harlot!”

“Don’t you dare call me a harlot! Don’t you-“

“Enough!” Aunty Alero screamed. She looked exhausted and it was already two in the morning. I was drained from crying but my mother had shed no tear. She claimed she had cried for my lost soul in the past so she was spent from tears.  The boy was asleep in the spare room, we had to spare him some of this Nollywood drama.

“So Abigail you kept this from me?” Aunty Alero said.

“Aunty I am so sorry.”

“How were you able to carry such a burden for so long? How?” Aunty Alero asked me and I heard my mother snicker. “What do you want from Abigail now?” She asked my mother.

“The boy wants to continue going to school but there is no money to take him so I decided to bring him to his mother.”

If gazes could burn, my mother will be burning in hell by now. “You still do not believe that your priest did it right?”

She smiled. “Never have, never will.”

I walked up to her. “I forgive you for everything you have done to me and henceforth I refuse to let the pain, anger and bitterness you used in raising me rule me. I pray you find the peace you are searching for Mummy. I will take that boy away from you and raise him myself with my small bank account but with love. I know I never nursed him and hated him but I pray he forgives me. You no longer have power over me. “

I didn’t realise I had been crying until Aunty Alero had pulled me into her arms as I collapsed into her warmth in tears. I heard my mother sob but she left the sitting room.

I could hardly sleep and Jake had called me repeatedly but I still was not ready. I prayed through the night, asking God for peace only He could give me. I pondered on what my son will call me or if I will still go to Paris. Sigh. What do I do? Where do I start from?

Morning came with light drizzles and I was afraid of what the day will bring. I think it was about 6am when I walked into the spare room the boy slept only to realise he was wide awake too. we said nothing to each other as I sat on the bed while he propped his pillow.

“What is your name?” I asked.


“My name is Abigail and it is true, I am your mother.”



She is a writer, blogger, bathroom-singer and she loves to laugh. Her mind is her playground and if you want to know more… Visit Follow her on Twitter @loglilmary


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