Story Berry 9- Christmas Chicken

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CHRISTMAS CHICKEN
Tomorrow is Monday. He will walk into a conference room: head high, brief case swaying in hand, glossy Italian shoes flashing.
Everyone around the large desk will stand up to greet him. He will nod a response. The meeting will start right after he drapes his navy suit on his chair and smooths it with one graceful stroke, settles in the swivel chair at the head of the table and he gestures to the petite lady standing across from him; she will start her presentation.
When he’s walking out of the office, ladies will stare in admiration, the men in envy.
His children will welcome him home with hugs and animated screams. He will lift them one after the other, his two golden daughters. He will swing them high. They will squeal and beg for more. His wife will lean against the kitchen doorjamb, wiping her hands with a napkin, a content smile registered on her lips as she watched the people she loved most in the world.
No one will have the faintest clue that he was the reason behind the scar on Lydia’s cheek; the reason she was reclusive; the reason she hated Christmas.
No one will have an inkling that every time he and his family went to the village, he raped Lydia, his cousin.
* * * *
Tomorrow is Monday. Mama will hurry to Lydia’s room, giggling and dancing. She will spill the news like one will spill lava from their mouth. Kelechi just called. He has offered to host her in the city. It is time for her to live her dreams. God has finally answered her prayers.
“Chineke dalu oooooo” Mama will shout, rolling on the floor, like flashes of horror would roll into Lydia’s mind. Some from her memory, some from her future in Lagos.
The tears will spring fast and pour slowly, her wailing will be muffled at first then the gusto will come in. Mama will be confused.
“What is the matter, Ndidi? This is a thing of joy. Why are you crying?”
Mama can’t understand. Even if she does, she won’t believe. Even if she believes, she won’t accept it.
It had always been her dream to see Lydia fly, and she believed the village was a cage with no room enough for her precious Ndidi’s dreams to roam, let alone soar. No one believed in Lydia’s academic potentials like her mother. Not even her. She will always say she took her Father’s brain, the only good thing he had, yet he did not use it. Then she will jab a finger in Lydia’s face and shout, “You must use it! You must use this brain God has given you, o?”
Mama will cup Lydia’s face tenderly. “I know it’s hard for you. This is your first time leaving this environment. But my daughter, I know you were not made for this our small community. You must step into your destiny. Ndidi, this is also hard for me. You are the only one I have, but I must cast my bread upon the waters, I would receive it back after many days.”
Lydia will feign a smile and wipe her tears with the edge of wrapper. She will sniffle and fix her eyes on the mud wall.
“When am I to leave?” She will quiz.
“Tomorrow”
She’ll turn to her mother. “Have I been such a terrible child that you can’t wait to get rid of me?”
“You are saying this to break my heart. It’s not fair”
“Let me go on Friday. I need time to prepare”
“Ehn.. No wahala. Let me call your cousin to inform him.”
Mama will exit her room, rocking from side to side to a rhythm she’ll hum. Lydia’s eyes will stay on the mud wall. She will remember how every Christmas, like the chickens they ate, a part of her was slaughtered. She was about to enter into an endless season of Christmas. Could she survive that?
At 5 AM on Wednesday morning, while dawn encroached with the careful determination of a stealthy predator, Mama will ring her bell twice. As the peals linger in the air she will say after a yawn and stretch, “Ndidi, it is time for prayers o”. Mama’s voice will carry through the hollowness of her home. She will hear nothing else.
Mama will enter her daughter’s room to meet an empty mat and a note on the table.

Your bread has thrown itself upon the waters
It will come back after many days.
Mama, hang on. I will come back.
I will make you proud. My wings will kiss the sky.
I promise.
Some day, I will celebrate Christmas with you,
A Christmas I won’t hate,
A Christmas where I won’t be the chicken to be slaughtered.
-Love, Ndidi.

THE END
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In the recent past a lot of conversations have been on around the sad theme of rape. I read and watched people’s stories that ripped my heart and left me wondering why. And as I asked the Lord why this evil was so rampant, a scripture dropped in my spirit.
2 Timothy 3:1-4:
You should know this, Timothy, that in the last days there will be very difficult times. For people will love only themselves and their money. They will be boastful and proud, scoffing at God, disobedient to their parents, and ungrateful. They will consider nothing sacred. They will be unloving and unforgiving; they will slander others and have no self-control. They will be cruel and hate what is good. They will betray their friends, be reckless, be puffed up with pride, and love pleasure rather than God.
We see all of this amplified in our world today. This proves the veracity of God’s word and the fact that the end is here. All these features listed: recklessness, pride, cruelty, self-love over love for God, and so forth, share a common denominator. Selfishness.
It’s the same thing that makes a person rape someone else. All they care about is what they want; satiating their desire. They don’t realize and don’t care about the results or consequences of their action, because they are consumed with what they want, blinded by their own interest. Just look at the case study before us. For every time Kelechi forced himself on Lydia, he didn’t care what it would cost her, he just wanted to do what he felt would make him happy in that moment. Selfishness.
Selfishness is what Christ-centered living rids us of as children of God. As a child of the kingdom we don’t live primarily to fulfill our desires. No. He created all things (and that includes you and I) for his pleasure (Revelation 4:11). The World would tell you to do whatever makes you happy, but the Word says, We make it our aim to be well pleasing to God whether we be present in the flesh or not (2 Cor 5:9)
Christ died for us that we might live for him. (2 Cor 5:15) We have to die to self daily, in order to live for Christ. (1 Cor 15:31; Matt 16:24-25)