Bloody Love

Chapter 3: Shame!

The Following Day...

A Small Village, Somewhere In Ekiti State.

It was a bright morning, that which the punctual rooster had announced the beginning of what the day would be, as usual. But this day was different.

Imade, who had a sleepless night, woke up like a baby to the noise she heard. It wasn’t to the rooster’s, but that of the troublesome noise at the face of her old, wooden door.

‘Knock! Knock! Knock!’

“Imade! Won’t you open the door for your own mother?” An elderly woman’s voice cried from outside.

Imade, a beautiful lady in her early thirties, hissed to the voice at the door. Her face spinched, while she wiped a hand over her rough-bun of hair.

“What is it again, Maami? I’ve left your house for you. Yet, you come to wake me up every morning!” A tired yawn escaped her lips as she scratched her neck in confusion, stretching, her cracky arms swung into the air as if to touch the sky.

Despite the fact that she slept in the last eight hours, it was evident that Imade had fine-tune and slim body. Like that of a black goddess. The full, natural hair that almost covered her face was as dark as coal. Although Imade was as epitome of beauty, she was yet to marry.

Imade cushioned her hair in a neat bun and opened the door for her mother.

The brightness of the day passed through her small dark room, sewing her together her eyes a bit. All she could see was invisible doodling, the sun gave. Until she finally got used to its brightness.

Imade’s mum, Feyishara, was an elderly woman in her late sixties. She wore an expensive, golden aso oke and white paper lace. Imade's puzzled eyes couldn’t settle on her mother’s gorgeous outfit, because of the sun's rays that flashed to her sight.

“Isn't it too early to pay a visit? Why are you here this early, Maami?” She gasped and hurried inside immediately. A frustrated frown spread on her face as the lady watched her mother.

Feyishara stuck her nose in the air and sniffed, as if the whole place was a pit-latrine.

Knowing what she meant anytime her lips are pouted and the corners of her mouth pulled down.

“The aweful smell if from the toilet I sgare wiyh the rest of my neighbour. It's Sunday. I will stay at home today for sanitation and rest. It’s been a long week, and it’s still going to be a busy day tomorrow.”

Fayi took a step back, towards the door and hissed at her daughter’s stupidity. "Don't you don't know what fits you? You deserve better, I made!"

"Ugh, Maami... Don't start again, please. You can call this poverty but I am contented with what I have."

“Really? When your mates live and die in luxury, you want to die in hell as a single lady? I forbid tgat in Jesus name!" Her fingers snapped over her head in circular motions. "Poverty is not our portion! Do you know what benefit it would bring you to have a crown on your head?"

Imade just kept quiet. In pity, Fayi folded her lips like someone that has lost everything good in life. Then she nodded her head in pity and folded her arms on her chest.

"As if that is not enough, you can't even greet me. Well, I'm not pained. My wish for you is that you get children who will greet you every morning too. Who you can send to do all the house chores." With this, a feeling of guilt welled up in Imade. Her coffee-black eyes rolled inward. She knew she had done wrong, so she swallowed her pride,