chapter 1
Joy was just 19 when she got pregnant by a man nobody knew. She was tall, beautiful, light-skinned—the kind of girl who turned heads. She was Mr. Okonkwo’s only daughter. Her mother, Rebecca, and her father, well, things weren’t good between them.
Mr. Okonkwo ran a business. He had money, but at home, he and Rebecca fought almost every day. Their shouting would start, and right on cue, Joy and my younger brother Michael would burst into tears. Mr. Okonkwo could be so stubborn, but, to be fair, Rebecca wasn’t easy either. He stammered when he was angry, and she had a temper like fire. Sometimes, Rebecca would be the first to lash out—she’d slap him, and then all hell would break loose.
One evening, Mr. Okonkwo came home late from his shop. Rain had slowed him down, and he was dripping wet. Rebecca was waiting at the door. “Where are you coming from, you stupid man?” she snapped.
He tried to explain, “There was rain, that’s why I waited. I didn’t go anywhere. Please, let me inside, I’m soaked.”
Rebecca didn’t buy it. “You’re lying. I know you’re with another woman. That’s why you’re late. You’re not staying in this house tonight, and you’re not eating either.”
He didn’t want to argue that night. He begged, “Please, I’m cold. Just let me come in and change. Even if you don’t give me food, it’s fine.”
But Rebecca wouldn’t budge. “You’re not going anywhere until you show me the woman you’re seeing behind my back.”
Mr. Okonkwo tried to keep the peace, but Rebecca slapped him. Twice. That’s when he snapped—he hit her back. Neighbors rushed in and broke up the fight. The next morning, Rebecca still wouldn’t let him go to his shop.
At 5:00 a.m., Rebecca woke him up, calling, “Daddy Joy, get up! Tell me where you went yesterday or you’re not leaving this house.”
He groaned, “Rebecca, what’s your problem? It’s five in the morning. I already told you, it was the rain. Everybody knows it rained yesterday. I even walked home in the downpour. Please, don’t kill me before my time.”
She wouldn’t let it go. “Don’t use the rain as an excuse. If you don’t show me that woman this morning, you’re not working. I must see her.”
Mr. Okonkwo was exhausted. He didn’t know what to do, so he locked himself in the guest room and stayed there all day. He didn’t go to the shop. Rebecca kept shouting, “You must show me that woman! If not, you’ll never rest in this house, and you won’t eat!”
He went hungry that day. Joy was furious with her mother but couldn’t get through to her. That night, when things seemed quiet, Mr. Okonkwo snuck out of the guest room to eat while Rebecca was out. He ate quickly, then hid again, sleeping in the restroom. Early the next morning, before anyone woke up, he slipped out and headed for his shop.
Rebecca checked his room when she woke. The door swung open—he was gone.
Mr. Okonkwo ran away. He left town and didn’t come back for six years. Not a single phone call. Nothing—not even to check on Joy, who was just twelve when he left. Rebecca had no idea where he went.
Two years later, Rebecca met another man. His name was Jonathan. She moved him in with her and Joy. Joy hated it—Jonathan wasn’t her father, and she knew it. But Rebecca loved him, maybe even more than she’d ever loved Okonkwo. Jonathan made her happy, at least in bed, and for Rebecca, that was enough.
Joy kept hoping. Maybe one day, she’d see her father again.
While everyone thought Mr. Okonkwo had disappeared, he was actually in prison, framed for something he didn’t do. He spent all those years locked up, no one to help, nobody to tell his wife or daughter what happened.
He missed them. He dreamed of seeing Joy and Rebecca again, even though he promised himself no matter how stubborn she was he’d never hit her again. He prayed every night in that dark cell. “Lord, please, I need my freedom. I want to see my child, my wife. Give me one more chance. I’m sorry for ever raising my hand against her.”
Lord, help me. Get me out of this, and I swear I’ll never lay a hand on my wife again. He was crying and praying so hard because he knows the woman he married she loves money, and he knows it. But he also regrets what made him run that day.
He even glanced around, hoping he could find someone to send a message to his wife.
Nobody was there.
