“It’s normal,” Chidi replied nonchalantly, as if it were nothing. “A woman is supposed to support her husband. I don’t need your support anymore.”
Awa stood still. The pain of his words felt like a physical blow. She had given him everything. She had sacrificed her youth, her dreams, and now, when he had everything he wanted, he no longer needed her.
The following days were nothing short of torture. Chidi would host his new friends in the living room, laughing and talking about Awa as if she were some outdated piece of furniture. Andey, without hesitation, began to place her designer clothes next to Awa’s old wax dresses. Awa’s heart broke as she watched it all. But she didn’t scream, didn’t cry. She simply did what she always did — she kept going.
She cooked the meals, cleaned the house, and continued to fade into the background of Chidi’s new life. She was no longer the woman he had once cherished; she was just a ghost in the background, invisible and irrelevant.
Then came the day when she walked into her own home to find the notary sitting in the living room, papers spread out on the coffee table. Chidi, calm and composed in his sharp suit, was signing them without a care in the world. The notary explained that the house was now under Chidi’s name, and Awa had no rights to it.
Chidi handed her an envelope without saying a word. “Take your things, you have until tonight. I’ll give you 100,000 francs to get by. Don’t come back here.”
Awa stood frozen, staring at the man she had once given everything to. She didn’t scream. She didn’t beg. She simply nodded her head, walked upstairs, and packed a small bag — three worn-out dresses and her gold wedding jewelry.
She walked out without looking back.
Outside, the sun blazed down on the Almadis streets, but Awa felt a coldness settle in her chest. She had given everything for this man, and now she was left with nothing but the echoes of her sacrifices.
