“Take this worthless thing. Throw it inside the dustbin. A female child is nothing!” Uchenna said to the mid nurse after his wife gave birth to a bouncing baby girl.

Part 1

Uchenna and his wife, Ngozi, had been married for seven years. To outsiders, they looked like a normal family living peacefully in their small but comfortable home in the heart of the town. They had beautiful children, a roof over their heads, and enough to survive. But behind those walls was a home filled with bitterness, tears, and pain.

In those seven years of marriage, Ngozi had only been able to give birth to female children.

Their first child was a girl. At first, Uchenna had smiled and accepted it, telling everyone that the next one would surely be a boy. When the second child came and it was another girl, his smile began to fade. By the time the third child arrived and it was still a girl, the love he once showed Ngozi slowly turned into resentment.

To Uchenna, daughters were disappointments.

He wanted a son. Not just any child, but a male child who would carry his name, inherit his properties, and prove to the world that he was truly a man.

That desire became an obsession.

Every day, he reminded Ngozi of what she had failed to give him.

“Female children are worthless! Give me a male child that will take over my inheritance!”

Those words became like a daily prayer in the house, except they carried no blessing, only pain.

Ngozi had grown used to crying in silence. She would wait until the children were asleep before allowing herself to break down. Sometimes she cried in the bathroom. Sometimes in the kitchen while cooking. Sometimes in the middle of the night when everyone else was sleeping and only the darkness listened to her sorrow.

She loved her daughters with all her heart. They were innocent, beautiful, and full of life. But their father treated them like burdens.

Whenever he came home drunk, the entire house would become tense.

The children would run into corners, hiding behind doors or under beds. They had learned to recognize the sound of his footsteps and the smell of alcohol that followed him.

That night was never peaceful.

He would shout at Ngozi over little things. If food was too hot, he shouted. If it was too cold, he shouted. If the children made noise, he blamed her. If they were too quiet, he still found a reason to be angry.

Then the beating would begin.

Sometimes with his hands, belt, or with anything he could grab.

And the children would stand there crying, begging him to stop while their mother endured the pain with tears running down her face.

His mother, Mama Uchenna, had spoken to him many times.

“Uchenna, this life you are living is not good,” she would warn him. “These children are blessings from God. Stop treating them like curses.”

But he never listened.

“Mama, you will not understand. I need a son. Who will continue my lineage? Who will inherit my properties? I cannot leave everything to girls who will get married and leave.”

His mother would shake her head in disappointment.

“You speak as if you created life yourself. Children are gifts from God, not products you order by choice.”

Still, he refused to change.

When Ngozi became pregnant for the fourth time, there was no joy in the house.

She had hoped maybe this pregnancy would soften her husband’s heart. Maybe he would finally show care. Maybe he would remember the love they once shared before bitterness took over.

But Uchenna did not care. He never asked how she was feeling. He never accompanied her to the hospital.

He never bought fruits, medicine, or even simple necessities for the pregnancy.

In his mind, the result was already decided. It was going to be another girl. So why bother?

Ngozi carried the pregnancy almost alone, with only the help of kind neighbors and Mama Uchenna, who did her best to support her despite her old age.

One evening, as Ngozi struggled to wash clothes with her heavy stomach, their neighbor, Madam Ifeoma, rushed over.

“My daughter, leave that bucket first. Look at your condition. Why are you stressing yourself like this?”

Ngozi forced a weak smile.

“If I do not do it, who will? The children need clean clothes.”

Madam Ifeoma sighed deeply.

“That your husband will answer to God one day. A woman this close to delivery should be resting, not suffering like this.”

Ngozi said nothing.

She had no strength left to defend him.

That bright morning, the pains began.

At first, she thought it was the usual discomfort, but within minutes, the contractions became stronger. Sharp pain gripped her stomach, and she held onto the wall for support.

Her daughters gathered around her, frightened.

“Mummy, are you okay?” the eldest asked, tears already forming in her eyes.

Ngozi tried to smile.

“Yes, my love. Go and call Auntie Ifeoma next door.”

The little girl ran out immediately.

Uchenna was nowhere to be found.

He had left the previous night after another drunken argument and had not returned.

As the pain increased, Ngozi cried out, clutching her stomach.

Neighbors rushed in. Madam Ifeoma entered first.

“Jesus! It is time!”

Together with two other women, they quickly supported Ngozi and rushed her to the hospital.

Throughout the journey, Ngozi kept whispering prayers.

“God, please let my baby be safe. Please let me survive this.”

At the hospital, the nurses moved quickly.

She was taken straight into the labour room while the neighbors waited outside.

Hours passed, then finally, the loud cry of a newborn baby filled the room.

It was a healthy strong beautiful baby girl.

The nurse smiled warmly as she cleaned the child.

“Congratulations, madam. You have a bouncing baby girl.”

Ngozi closed her eyes.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

Not because she hated her child, never.

But because she already knew what awaited her.

She knew the storm that would come when Uchenna heard those words.

At that same moment, Uchenna’s mother came rushing into the ward.

She had heard the news from one of the neighbors and came immediately.

The moment she saw Ngozi alive and the baby safe, her face lit up with relief.

“Thank God! Thank God!” she said, touching Ngozi’s forehead gently. “My daughter, well done.”

She carried the baby carefully and smiled.

“My beautiful granddaughter. Look at how fresh and lovely she is.”

Unlike her son, she did not care whether the child was male or female.

Life was life.

And every child was a blessing.

Then she looked around.

“Where’s my son, Uchenna?” She asked.

Ngozi shook her head weakly.

“I don’t know mama. He has not been around ever since it happened. The neighbors were the ones who rushed me to the hospital.” She explained.

“What? You mean my son Uchenna has not been around since morning with you?” Uchenna’s mother exclaimed in shock.

Anger rose in her chest immediately.

She brought out her phone and dialed his number.

After several rings, he finally answered.

“Hello, mama…”

“hey, you boy. Listen to me. If you know what is good for you. Bring yourself right this moment to the hospital. Your wife just delivered of a baby.”

She ended the call without waiting for his response.

Inside the ward, silence followed.

Ngozi stared at the ceiling, her heart beating fast.

She knew him too well.

She knew exactly what would happen when he arrived.

Few minutes later, Uchenna came rushing into the hospital, breathing heavily.

For a brief second, excitement was written all over his face. He had clearly assumed the child was finally the son he had prayed for.

But the moment his eyes fell on the baby wrapped in pink cloth and he heard the nurse say “baby girl,” everything changed.

His expression darkened instantly.

The room became cold.

Without warning, he marched forward, grabbed the baby roughly from the bed, and before anyone could react, he thrEw the child toward the mid nurse.

She caught the baby in complete shock, her heart nearly stopping.

“Throw that trash you call a child inside the dustbin. A female child is nothing! Did you hear me?” He thundered.

The entire ward froze. Ngozi burst into tears.

The nurse stood there speechless, holding the crying baby tightly.

Even other patients outside could hear the shouting.

His mother stepped forward, trembling with anger.

“What did you just do Uchenna? That is your flesh and blóód. Why would you throw your child like that?” His mother angrily sparked at him.

But Uchenna was beyond reason.

His face was filled with rage and disgust.

“God forbid, mama. That thing in that hand can never be my blóód. I don’t know anything concerning that b@stard you call a child. So, it’s better you trash that thing or don’t bother coming back home to my house this night!” He said to Ngozi and stormed out of the hospital ward.

…

To be continued…

“Take this worthless thing. Throw it inside the dustbin. A female child is nothing!” Uchenna said to the mid nurse after his wife gave birth to a bouncing baby girl.