MUMMY'S LOVE

chapter 2

Rebecca Okonkwo had always kept her troubles to herself. Most people never suspected a thing. For years, she stayed with her husband, Mr. Okonkwo—a man who never managed to keep a job. He just stayed at home while she scraped together whatever she could to feed everyone. They argued constantly. The house was never peaceful. Whatever love they had faded away in all the noise.

Then, about seven years ago, Mr. Okonkwo left. No goodbye. Not even a note. He just disappeared. Nobody really knew where he went. Some people said he’d gone to another town. Others whispered he’d left the country. Rebecca never tried to find him. She swallowed her pain and grew tougher.

Joy was twelve when her father left. Now she was nineteen, but the wound had never healed. She missed him every day. She couldn’t let go of the hope that he was still alive somewhere. At night, she prayed for him, quietly so no one would hear.

A few years after he left, Rebecca let another man move in. His name was Jonathan. He wasn’t her husband, but he acted like one. Joy couldn’t stand him. Jonathan was loud and rude. He argued with Rebecca almost every night. Their shouting filled the house with harsh words and shame.

One night, the fighting got worse than ever. Plates smashed. Doors slammed. Joy sat in her room, trembling, the noise dragging her back to the old days—her parents fighting, her heart racing, feeling like she couldn’t take it anymore.

At last, she stormed out of her room. “Mommy, stop this. Please, just stop.”

Rebecca whirled around, her eyes burning.

Joy’s voice shook, but she pressed on. “Mommy, aren’t you ashamed? Where’s your husband? You don’t even know where Daddy is. I believe he’s still alive. And you’re here with another man, fighting every night. Where’s your shame?”

Rebecca was hurt.

She slammed her hand on the table. “Who do you think you are, talking to me like this? Have you lost your mind? I’m your mother. Who gave you permission? You think you’re grown now, huh?”

Joy stood there, crying, but she didn’t move.

Rebecca shouted louder. “You want to act like this? Go get your own house! And your father? That useless man didn’t even know what he wanted. I put up with him for years. If you want to be like him, leave!”

Joy broke down. “So you want to throw me out too, like you did with Daddy?”

Rebecca didn’t hesitate. “Yes. Get out. Don’t come back.”

Jonathan tried to intervene. “It’s late. Where will she go?”

Rebecca was unmoved. “Anywhere. I don’t want her here. I can’t stand to look at her. She’s just like her father.”

Something inside Joy died when she heard that.

Her hands shook as she packed a few clothes. She stepped out into the darkness, not knowing where to go. No friends, no family nearby. She just walked, legs aching, until she found an unfinished building. It was cold, empty, and silent. She sat on the floor and cried herself to sleep.

She didn’t know a homeless boy had been living there for years. He watched her come in, said nothing, just waited.

Late at night, while Joy slept, the boy crept closer. He held a knife. Joy woke up. She tried to scream, but fear paralyzed her. The boy was stronger. He forced himself on her. That night destroyed everything. It was the first time a man had ever touched her.

In the morning, Joy woke in pain, blood on her clothes. She never looked back. She left, wandering the streets, lost.

A woman driving by saw her. She slowed, rolled down the window, and called out, “Hey, you’re bleeding!”

Joy stayed silent.

The woman stopped, got out, and came over. She looked at Joy with concern. “Come with me, my dear.”

Her name was Linda. She had money, a big heart, worked in real estate, and owned several houses. She took Joy home, cleaned her up, fed her, and gave her a place to sleep.

Joy became Linda’s maid, but Linda always treated her more like a daughter.

A few months later, Joy discovered she was pregnant.

One evening, Linda asked gently, “Joy, how did this happen? Are you seeing someone?”

Joy shook her head. Tears streamed down her face.

“That day you saw me bleeding,” she whispered, “someone r***d me.”

Linda’s eyes widened. “I thought it was just your period.”Joy inhaled deeply and released it all. She told Mrs. Linda everything—her father leaving, her mother bringing another man home, being thrown out at night, hiding in that unfinished building, and the knife.

Mrs. Linda wept alongside her.

“My dear,” she said, “I won’t ask you to get rid of this baby. You’ll have this child. I’ll look after you.”

She meant it. She even brought Joy into her estate business. Joy learned quickly. She was smart, honest. Mrs. Linda trusted her fully.

Joy worked diligently. She kept the house immaculate. She treated clients kindly. Some people even came specifically for Joy, slipped her a bit of money to thank her. Still, Joy remained humble and respectful.

Mrs. Linda loved her as if she were her own daughter.

They searched for the man who had r***d Joy. Every morning, they set out, asking around, driving all day. A whole month passed, and nothing. The man had disappeared—run off to another village.

Joy’s belly grew, and so did her resolve.

She stopped thinking about her mother. Now, she had only one prayer.

She wanted to see her father again.

Sometimes, she’d place her hands on her belly and whisper, “Lord, if I could see my daddy just once, I’d be happy. Let him see his grandchild.”

Joy had been broken, but she survived.

She came out stronger.