Pink and blue balloons hung from the ceiling and white roses were set as centerpieces for the tables. Diffusers deflected air that smelt like lavender and strings of sparkling crystals hung from wall to wall.
There was a food station of pastries and finger foods where the guests could serve themselves from time to time.
The party commenced an hour ago and they’d played several games and heard heart-warming speeches from the guests. People stood around the room, having conversations while calm music played in the background. They were all waiting for the big reveal.
Osareme sat alone at a table and looked at the beauty that her party planner had turned her regular living space into.
It was magnificent.
The room was filled with laughter and pure smiles. She had her family present, her closest friends and that of Tochi’s. She was surrounded by so much love.
She had made t-shirts available for everyone to put on with the choice of picking between ‘Team Boy’ and ‘Team Girl’.
It was her first gender reveal, and the one that’d be her last. The doctors said that her uterus was only fit enough to carry one baby without complications.
And honestly, she was perfectly fine with it. With the amount of suffering in the world, she’d prefer to bring only one child into it.
Besides, there was always the option of adoption or surrogacy if Tochi wanted any more children. At least she could determine the gender of that one.
But for this one, a lot of the guests had chosen pink shirts including her husband. She could hear him talking to his friends right now.
“I want her to look more like Osa facially though. She’s going to be too pretty.” He grinned in excitement.
“You should hope that she takes Osa’s brain too.” Ugo, his younger brother teased, causing the rest of their friends to laugh hard.
Osareme hadn’t slept properly all week leading up to today. Her nights consisted of sneaking into the guest bedroom and crying unto God to give her a baby boy.
As far as she was concerned, God owed her this one request. After all He had let happen to her in this life, He owed her this one.
A little resentment filled her heart as she couldn’t believe how unreasonable her friends and family were though.
Each time, she’d replay the answers they gave her when she had asked them, “Why do you want it to be a girl?”
“Ugh, because I want to be a girl dad.” Her husband answered.
“Ah! Since you don’t have my time again, she’ll be coming to stay with me. Two of us will be going out together.” Her Nigerian mother’s voice echoed in her head.
“Trust that I’ll be the best aunty. I’m going to make her a popping babe.”
“I’m going to teach her how to DJ. Best female DJ the world would ever see.” Her brother claimed.
Imagine these people! All flimsy reasons!
“Are they not scared for her life?”, Osareme thought to herself.
No one was thinking about the dangers of being a girl in a world like this.
She spent months thinking about how she was possibly going to be a mother to a girl child.
Was she careful enough?
How was she going to dress her?
Who was she going to allow around her daughter?
Was she going to restrict her house staff to only women? Would that be safer?
Was there an all-female-staffed school somewhere?
At what age, would she let her go out alone?
Was she even going to let her attend concerts?
No male friends?
No going for sleepovers at Uncle Efe or Uncle Ugo’s house? Hell, at anyone’s house?
These were a few situations that Osareme felt she could control but there were many that she couldn’t.
Who can I trust around her?
What if we get robbed?
What if she decides to take a stroll at night?
She’d teach her self-defense, but can she fight off eleven men on her own?
She could buy her a taser or a pocket knife but what if she forgets her bag?
She’d teach her to always lock her door before she goes to sleep but what if she gets sick and needs to call out for help?
Osareme swore that she’d teach her daughter the same lessons her mother taught her:
Don’t sit on any man’s lap.
Always walk with a friend.
Make sure you’re not alone with any boy in a room or house.
Always cover your body. Dress decently oh.
No tight clothes.
When you’re walking, you must “entice” a man.
Never leave your drink unattended to.
Osareme scoffed as she shook her head.
‘I’m a fool if I think any of those would stop my daughter from getting raped. I applied every one of those lessons and I still got raped, so who am I kidding?’ She thought.
She looked at her happy mother. The poor woman probably thought that her overprotective nature would prevent her daughter from being a victim. She had no idea.
Osareme remembered going through her phone the other day where she came across an article that read: “At least one in every five women have been raped or molested.”
She scanned the room that held over fifteen women in it and wondered who among these women were victims aside herself. She was one in her five but who were the others?
How would she make sure her daughter doesn’t get counted among the victims?
Was there a manual somewhere that she could read, that would teach a mother how to avoid her daughter from being sexualized by a man even as a baby, a toddler, a preteen, a teenager and a grown woman?
Osareme knew that if she had a baby girl, she would live the rest of her life in paranoia because how would she protect her girl?
Osareme was scared.
“Please Lord, just give me a boy. I don’t want to live in fear and I don’t want to bring forth a child that I’d have to teach to live in fear. Please.”
She prayed one last time as she looked at the box that contained the balloons that would reveal the gender of her baby.
“Right about now, is the time we all have been waiting for. Osa and Tochi, please come over here to the platform so we can reveal the gender of our little bundle of joy.” Daniel, Tochi’s cousin, who was the emcee geeked.
The guests immediately took out their phones ready to make videos of this moment.
Tochi rushed over and helped his wife to stand from her chair and took her hand as they walked over to the large box.
“Oh my God!” Tochi held her shoulders and shook them nervously and excitedly.
“On the count of three, Tochi, you’re going to open this box. Let’s go. 1….2…”
Osareme closed her eyes. She wasn’t ready.
“3!”
Tochi lifted the lid of the box. Balloons elevated into the air as the room went into an absolute uproar with people running back and forth, screaming and cheering.
Damn, she already knew.
Osareme opened her eyes.
Blue. Wait, what? It’s blue. It’s a boy!
“It’s a boy.” She repeated it as the realisation hit her. She screamed with relief and joy took over her body.
She jumped as high as her pregnant feet could take her.
God hadn’t failed her this time.
Now that she was having a boy though, she had a new plan. She was going to teach her son to respect women.
She’d teach him what she wished her rapist was taught: “No means no.”
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Imade Ehigiator is a writer and brand communications professional from Nigeria. She has a bachelor’s degree in Mass Communications from Covenant University, specialising in public relations and advertising. She describes her imagination as her favourite tool of creation—a world of its own, filled with various characters and intriguing stories. Writing is her most natural form of expression. It’s her favourite way to share what goes on in her mind with the world around her. She also has a newsletter – Oh, It’s Madz! on Substack.
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