28/06/2025
THE ABANDON DAUGHTER...
EPISODE 1
In the heart of Umulekwe, a village wrapped in red earth and old traditions, a child came into the world on a stormy night. Her cri£s echoed through the mud walls as her mother’s lif£ slipped away. The villagers said the wind howled differently that night, like a warning. Her father, Okeke, sat outside the hut, his head buried in his palms, refusing to look at the baby girl his wife di£d giving birth to.
“She k!ll£d her,” he muttered bitterly. “This curs£d child k!ll£d my Adaeze.”
He named her Amanda, not out of love, but because the villagers insisted every child needed a name. He never once held her. From that day, Okeke turned his h£art to stone, shutting out the daughter who reminded him of his l0ss.
Amanda's early years were spent in the care of her grandmother, Mama Emeka—a frail but fiery old woman whose back bent from years of farm work and burden, but whose spirit never bowed. She raised Amanda with warmth and wisdom, teaching her to work hard, pray deeply, and speak kindly even when kindness was not returned.
But even in childhood, Amanda learned cru£lty. The village children m0cked her torn clothes. Some mothers told their children not to play with “the orphan girl.” Whenever she passed by her father’s new compound, she saw boys running in the yard, her half-brothers, unaware they had a sister watching from afar.
Her stepmother, Amaka, made sure OkEke's house remained closed to her.
“Don’t bring b@d luck into this house,” she once barked when Amanda came with oranges she had picked to share. “Go back to your d£ad mother!”
Okeke didn’t stop her. He stood behind the wooden door, saying nothing.
Amanda turned away without a word. She was used to it.
Still, she didn’t let bitt£rness take root. She fetched water before dawn for Mama Emeka. She swept the church compound daily and learned how to read by sitting quietly near the school windows, listening to the lessons taught inside. When the children laughed, she would smile to herself and keep listening. She had a hunger for knowledge, for something bigger than the village could offer.
When she was ten, Mama Emeka fell s!ck. The old woman who had been her rock now lay weak on a bamboo mat. Amanda did everything—she boiled herbs, she fetched the village healer, she even walked barefoot to the next village for medicine. But nothing worked.
One morning, Mama Emeka held her hand and whispered, “You are light, my daughter. Don’t let this world put you out. Shine... even in the dark.”
Then she was gon£.
Alone now, Amanda stayed in the old hut. She slept on the bare floor, ate wild fruits, and sometimes nothing at all. The villagers passed her, some shaking their heads, others offering fak£ sympathy but never help. Her father? He never came.
TO Be CONTINUED....
Written by Amaka
