Everyday dawns on me like a scarecrow in a rice field. My mind shuttles between a firm grip of the osu caste system, and my undying love for Nnodim, the man I am forbidden from marrying.

Between what is known about the osu caste system, and what is not known, I am a wandering pirate, bound to this sea that hangs over me like a cloud of death.

By law, one who is an osu can only marry a fellow of the caste.

By law, a marriage between Nnodim and I is an abomination.

Born as Nwadiala, Nnodim deviated from our customs when he asked for my hand in marriage. 

Prior to then, his tribute of attention to me was both unexpected and a dream come true.

Neither of us thought of the consequences of our late night escapades until the bump on my belly formed a circumference.

With a baby in sight, a child I must protect, love took a spin away from Nnodim and I. I broke contact with him, withdrew and initiated a nine months long hibernation. I couldn't let people know I was having a baby. They would ask questions and the truth will come to light.

Already, women hurrying to the farm were carrying their suspicion like ant infested firewood. If it should be confirmed, the whole community will loathe me.

A child from a mixed parents of Nwadiala and an Osu? I can not begin to imagine the sharp claws that will prick her sides for a lifetime. In worse scenario, my child might grow up hating me.

These were my thoughts before the night I said no to Nnodim's proposal.

My 'dream come true' crashed by my own hands. Yet, there was no turning back for me. Not even when Nnodim's wedding to my bestfriend drew closer.

" You made the right choice," my mother told me. Whether she was right or wrong, I had chosen a side. My happiness in exchange for my child's. I convinced myself it was the best decision. 

But that wouldn't save me from the impending heartache.

In two weeks, I will have to witness a wedding that could have been between Nnodim and I, surrounded by relatives. Or, I could bar myself behind these moss covered fences and cry myself to sleep.

I choose the former. I want to see him one more time and remind myself he was mine. Our love was real and so is his bond to my unborn child whom he will never hold as his.

Maybe this is what motherhood is --- a bouquet of sacrifice. 

Just like my mother who never remarried after my father's exit, inorder to protect me, I must see that my child lives long enough to behold a new dawn in our part of the world. I want her to love, be loved, and wed the one she loves. I must leave things better than I met them for my baby's sake.