The next day they went to Life Hope Medical Center, a quiet private hospital where Amaka knew one of the doctors.
Dr. Uche, a gentle man in his forties, welcomed them into his office. “How can I help you, Madam Goi?” he asked.
Goi looked down. Amaka answered for her. “She was married for seven years. No child. Her husband divorced her because he said she was barren. But she has never had proper tests. We want a full checkup.”
Dr. Uche nodded. “You did the right thing by coming. We will run some tests, and then we will talk.”
They spent the next few hours doing blood work, scans, and hormone tests. Goi felt nervous the entire time.
What if Chik had been right?
What if she really was the problem?
Two days later, the results came back.
Goi sat in front of the doctor with sweaty palms. Dr. Uche adjusted his glasses and smiled gently.
“Madam, everything looks good. Your reproductive system is healthy. You are ovulating well. Your hormone levels are normal. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you.”
Goi blinked. “Nothing?”
“Nothing,” the doctor repeated. “If there was no pregnancy for seven years, I would advise that your ex-husband be tested. From everything I see, you are completely fine.”
Goi covered her mouth and burst into tears.
Amaka jumped from her chair. “I knew it! I knew it! That man lied to you, Goi. He blamed you to cover his own shame.”
Goi felt the world spinning around her. “So all this time… I was not the problem?”
Dr. Uche smiled kindly. “You were never the problem. And when you meet the right man, I believe you will have your own children. Don’t let what happened steal your peace.”
Outside the hospital, Goi sat on a bench, trembling from the truth.
“All these years,” she whispered, “I begged God. I cried every night. I hated myself. And I was not the one.”
Amaka held her hand. “One day, Chik will look at you and wish he had never let you go.”
Goi looked up at the sky. “Maybe this is the beginning of my healing.”
And it was.
In the weeks that followed, Goi began helping Amaka with her tailoring business. She was not fully herself yet, but she was no longer lost. She started waking early again, eating small meals, and sometimes even laughing.
One evening she told Amaka, “I want to start something. Maybe a small food business. I have always loved cooking.”
Amaka smiled widely. “Yes. That is the spirit. I will help you. Let’s do it.”
They used the small veranda to open a food stand. Every morning Goi cooked rice, beans, moi-moi, and soup. By seven o’clock, workers from nearby offices were already lining up. People soon began to know her again—not as the woman Chik divorced, but as the woman who made the best jollof in the area.
One afternoon, a customer smiled at her and said, “Madam, you look different. There is a glow on your face.”
Goi smiled softly. “Maybe I am finally free.”
Still, healing was not simple. There were nights when the pain returned.
One night, while folding aprons, she turned to Amaka. “Do you think he ever loved me?”
Amaka looked at her carefully. “I think he loved himself more. That is the only thing I am sure of.”
Goi nodded. “I just wish I had not wasted so many years.”
“You did not waste them,” Amaka said. “You grew. You became stronger. And one day, God will give you more than what you lost.”
Goi said nothing, but somewhere deep inside, a small fire had begun to burn. A quiet strength.
One Sunday afternoon, Amaka came home from church with news.
“I saw Chik’s cousin today,” she said. “Chik is preparing to marry again. A flashy girl from Lagos.”
Goi’s heart paused for a moment. “Oh.”
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