Chantal, a young Igbo mother, towered over her son KC, her arms raised, fingers curled like claws. "I'm the Goliath, and I'm going to get you!" she roared playfully. KC cowered beneath her, giggling as he pretended to be frightened. "Oh no, mama! Please don't eat me!" he pleaded, his eyes sparkling. Chantal scooped him up, tickling him as he squirmed in her arms. "Roar! I've got you now!" she bellowed. KC laughed, then suddenly broke free, grabbing a makeshift toy sword crafted from a stick. "I'll defeat you, monster!" he declared, swinging the sword at his mother. Chantal clutched her chest, dramatically falling to the floor of their modest home. "Oh no, the brave warrior has slain me!" she cried, her laughter mixing with KC's. They lay on the ground, catching their breath, the small, sparsely furnished room overflowing with love and happiness, a rare moment of respite from the daily struggles of poverty, hunger, and the looming threat of disease that plagued their village.
Chantal got up to clean when a knock interrupted their routine. She smiled, thinking of neighbors bearing gifts. Opening the door, she stiffened, her face paling at the towering figure—her ex-husband, Uchenna. Painful memories flooded back—the abuse, the tears, the abandonment for money and power. Dread filled her, knowing trouble had arrived. She dashed for her son, but her movements were too slow. Uchenna seized her arm, his grip unyielding. The boy froze, his eyes locked on his mother.
"Chantal, it's been far too long. You look well," Uchenna said, his calm voice laced with threats.
"Uchenna, leave us!" Chantal demanded, struggling against his grip, fear and anger mixing in her voice. His fingers tightened, leaving marks on her skin.
KC stepped forward, his small hands clenched into fists, ready to defend his mother, but Chantal shot him a pleading look, silently urging him to stay back; he hesitated, his eyes locked on the unfolding confrontation, his heart pounding in his chest.
Panic gripped Chantal, her heart racing, her breath coming in short gasps. She pushed against him, desperate to expel him from their home. Her fists pounded his chest, but her efforts yielded no results. Uchenna waited, a smirk playing on his lips, as she exhausted herself. She met his eyes, desperation etched on her face.
"You're too powerful. Please, leave us," she pleaded, her head hanging, her voice barely a whisper. He tilted her chin up, his touch controlling.
"The boy is needed," he said, his words causing Chantal's shoulders to shake with silent sobs.
As Uchenna lowered his hand, Chantal's leg swung, slamming into his groin. He winced, his grip loosening. She broke free, scooping up the boy. They raced to the backdoor, flinging it open. More men awaited, their faces hard, the scent of sweat and tobacco mixing with the night air. She glanced back at Uchenna, who was straightening up, anger twisting his face.
"So clever, my wife," he remarked, sarcasm dripping from his words. He approached, his footsteps heavy on the wooden floor. His hand swung, striking her face with a resounding slap. She crumpled to the ground, the taste of blood filling her mouth.
"Mama!" the boy cried, tears welling in his eyes. "Leave her alone!" He guarded her fallen body, his small frame filled with a mix of fear and defiance.
"KC, no! Stay back!" Chantal pleaded weakly, her voice barely above a whisper, desperate to shield her son from Uchenna's wrath, but her battered body refused to cooperate, leaving her powerless to intervene.
"A brave boy! Truly your father's son," Uchenna said, grasping the boy's shoulder, his grip firm.
In one swift motion, he hoisted the boy up, throwing him over his shoulder. The boy's fists pounded against his back in futile protest.
The mother lay on the ground, tears cascading down her cheeks, her lips moving in a silent plea. "Don't HURT my son!" she begged, her voice hoarse. The man paid no heed, turning and walking out of the house. He disappeared into the night with the boy in tow, leaving behind a shattered home and a broken mother.