Part 5. The End.

As Sister Nela ushered Senior Obiora and me into the convent’s meeting room, I heaved a sigh of relief. At least now I would have a chance to explain myself. Now I would get justice, I said to myself.

“Anita, you have broken the school rules o. How dare you call the head boy by name? I mean, who gave you the right to walk into the senior’s block at this time of the day? Shouldn’t you be at prep? You know these things are not allowed. We clearly stated that such blatant disobedience leads to expulsion. I have no choice but to do so. I mean, it’s unheard of,” said Sister Nela.
I could not believe my ears. As tears freely rolled down my cheeks, I mustered words amidst broken chords.

“Senior Obiora abused me physically, Sister. I am pregnant for him. He wrote those letters that were found in my box, I just found out today because Dumebi knows his writing; he tutors science students in Physics. She is a science student Sister…” I choked; the pain was too much to bear.

“He knew I had reported him to Father Henry hence the conspiracy to get me expelled. I believe Father Henry told you this that day at the assembly. I don’t know why I am the only one getting expelled, I don’t understand. Where is Father Henry, he would vouch for me
I received a letter from my House Mistress the following morning. I had been expelled. “This is unusual o Anita, why dem no announce your offence for assembly as dem dey do before na. Wetin happen sef? Wetin you do?” she probed.

“I called the Head boy by name. He gave me a child. The school will rather part with the gifted than with the rich. I would survive Ma.”

My aunt sent me back to the village to give birth to stay with my grandma. Three months later, I lost the pregnancy. I was however determined to continue my education and become the lawyer I had always wanted to be.

How I graduated from law school is all history now. As a high court judge, I need to be objective in this case of manslaughter, it’s The State against one Obiora Omelora.
My clock tells me it’s five minutes before I change my scarf to a wig. I just penned down my judgement on a pad and pulled off my glasses.
I know God will forgive me.

The End.
All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.

(JRR Tolkien)

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2 thoughts on “ A pen. A pad. A scarf. My glasses. The clock. V ”

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