THE OTHER PART OF ME

CHAPTER FIVE

It was a sweltering afternoon in the middle of the dry season. Dust floated lazily in the air, and the market buzzed with women calling out their wares—tomatoes, onions, smoked fish. The sharp scent of dried crayfish and soap hung heavily in the air.

Mrs. Udeh, known as Aunty Nicer, was seated on her wooden stool at her tiny provision shop in the corner of the market. The shop, if it could be called that, was more of a wooden box with a zinc roof. It was crammed with sachets of detergent, biscuit cartons, tins of milk, and packs of Indomie. Her face, slightly powdered and shiny with sweat, brightened when she looked up and saw her old friend walking toward her.

“Gloria!” she exclaimed, rising halfway to her feet. “So you’re back from America!”

“Yes oh, I just landed last week. I said let me come and see you before returning to my people’s side in the East,” Gloria replied with a wide smile, her designer sunglasses pushed up onto her forehead. “Ah ah, you still look the same o. See you—market woman!”

They both laughed, embracing like old school friends who hadn’t seen each other in years.

As they chatted, a familiar figure approached the shop. Princess, with her faded dress and worn-out slippers, came quietly, holding a black crate for the bottles and a small cooler for sachet water. Her head was slightly bowed as she greeted the women.

“Aunty good afternoon.”

Mrs. Nicer waved her hand without looking at her. “Go and carry those drinks. Look sharp.”

Princess stood quietly by the fridge, her small frame nearly blending into the corner of the shop. Her face was leaner now, her skin a little darker from long days under the sun hawking sachet water. The once-vibrant girl now moved with the silence of someone who had learned to carry pain like a secret. At seventeen, she looked older than her age—not just in body, but in the weight behind her eyes.

She didn’t speak as Mrs. Nicer’s friend, a well-dressed woman in gold earrings and cat-eye glasses, looked at her with sharp interest.

“Is that your daughter?” Gloria asked casually.

Mrs. Nicer scoffed without even glancing in Princess’s direction. “God forbid! That can never be my daughter. She’s a witch. Bad luck follows her like a shadow.”

Princess didn’t flinch, but her fingers trembled slightly as she picked up the basin of drinks. Her eyes stayed lowered, but the words pierced her like a fresh wound. She turned away quietly, the tears already forming, and stepped out into the street without a word.

Gloria watched her disappear down the busy market path and then turned to Mrs. Nicer, her voice lower now, more calculated.

“Nicer, tell me something,” she said. “Since your husband died, have things been easy for you?”

Mrs. Nicer leaned against the counter and sighed. “You already know the answer to that. Things have been tight. But I’m managing.”

Gloria tapped her manicured finger on the wooden stall. “What if I told you there’s a way out? And it involves that girl you just rejected.”

Mrs. Nicer narrowed her eyes. “That one? She’s just been a burden.”

Gloria glanced around the shop, lowered her voice, and leaned in like someone sharing a juicy secret.

“I have this close friend,” she began, “She’s married to one wealthy Nigerian man. Big money, I’m telling you—real dollars. They live in America. Been married for over eight years now, no child.”

Mrs. Nicer blinked. “So?”

“They’ve tried everything, my sister. Hospitals, prayers, you name it. But recently, the husband started thinking of finding a surrogate. Someone who will carry their child, give birth, and walk away.”

Mrs. Nicer frowned. “Surrogate? You think Princess will ever agree to such a thing? That girl is foolish but not stupid.”

Gloria smirked. “She doesn’t have to know. You don’t call it surrogacy. We present it as a marriage. The man is willing to come down here and do everything—traditional rites, the church wedding if necessary. She will think it’s love. Real love. Meanwhile, she’ll get pregnant, and after she delivers the baby, that’s it. They take the child and return to the U.S. You and I will be settled.”

Mrs. Nicer folded her arms, thinking hard. “Hmm… It sounds risky.”

“But it’s not. The couple is ready to play along. Papers will be arranged. And think about it—how long do you plan to suffer like this, eh? Don’t you want to change your current situation? This could give you a real future. It’s not every day someone brings this kind of opportunity.”

“She’s been a liability,” she said quietly. “But… maybe there’s sense in what you’re saying.”

“There is,” Gloria said, leaning in. “I thought of you the moment they mentioned it. Don’t you want to change your life? You and your children don’t deserve to suffer. Let this girl work for you, just once.”

Mrs. Nicer’s eyes narrowed. Her lips twitched slightly into a half-smile. “How do we start?”

Gloria leaned even closer. “Let me go back and tell my people she’s available. But you have to keep her in line. Feed her well for now, make her look healthy, take her to hospital for check-up. The Americans will require tests. Once everything is confirmed, the arrangement starts immediately. No delay.”

Mrs. Nicer nodded slowly, already thinking ahead. “Don’t worry. She’s not going anywhere.”

Gloria stood and adjusted her handbag. “Good. I’ll call you tomorrow. Just act normal for now. Don’t let the girl suspect anything.”

As Gloria walked away, Mrs. Nicer watched her go, her mind buzzing with greed. For the first time in years, she looked toward the direction Princess had gone—with interest, not disgust.