Let it go #FictionCorner


All stories on this blog, under ‘Fiction Corner’ are entirely fictious and concocted by the mind of Achidimama. If there are similarities with real life people or characters you know, that is purely coincidental. Stories published under ‘Fiction Corner’ not entirely the mental property of Achidimama, will be accredited to the Co-Writer. Achidimama is not responsible for your interpretation of any stories on this blog.Please enjoy my attempt(s) at fiction. I hope you like it.


This is a hard story to tell. I find that when you are directly involved in a thing, you lack clarity. Objectivity becomes a nonsense.

When your heart is involved, your emotions, feelings and all associated pain seem unbearable sometimes. I wish I was exaggerating the pain a person feels when their heart breaks. I used to roll my eyes when I watched some movies and I always asked, “why can’t they get over it?”.
I know now that when your heart is involved, it appears that delusion is not far behind. It changes  a person.
My heart was shattered by the one person I believed would never hurt me. I swore up and down that everyone would (I expected people to hurt me. For me, it was just a matter of time) but this one person, never. Without realising it, I built a pedestal in my head about this person and they stood on top. Poised. Elegant. I would forgive a thousand and one offences, I would defend this person – constantly. I was not entirely blind to their faults. No, I was very aware of them but I did not mind them. Their flaws made them who they were. I was happy to risk my safety for this person because I felt protective of this person. I remember finding myself in a very uncomfortable situation because of what I had done for this person and in complaining bitterly to this person, I was asked, “Did I ask you to do that for me?”. Still, I did not learn. I was blissfully wounding myself, completely unaware that the person I gave so much to, would not lift an eyelid for me. Hindsight showed me that I was being manipulated.  I see how I was so carried away. I see where this person picked up the strings and made me dance to their tune. Like the person, aware of the approaching train but not caring about imminent death, propels forward, dancing in front of it. I was foolish. Like I said, when people tell of heartbreak, it sounds exaggerated. Overly dramatic. Yet. It is entirely accurate. This person, knew me, well. They knew me oh so well. We grew up together. They watched. I was play dough in their hands. My only wish was that I was aware of the maliciousness behind the smile. This person hid behind a mask, successfully. For decades. Waiting for the opportunity to laugh at me – They did – With precise execution. I promise, I am yet to exaggerate.
It is worse when hate is revealed behind the ‘love and care’ shown.

The day I found out that I was alone in the way I felt, I was ashamed. I sat in my chair, speechless/shocked/broken-hearted/confused/betrayed/hurt/devastated/guilty/angry/shocked. It felt like someone had poured cold water on me, yet my face was hot. I remember I kept looking around the room that day.

I looked everywhere but at that person and just like that, I felt I could finally see.

Those who knew me before that day would describe me as kind-hearted. When I am offended, people tell the offender not to worry. They. tell. the. offender. not. to. worry. They tell the offender to give me some time and I, will apologise. That was who I was. Stupid. Naive. So involved in my delusion, I regularly harmed myself constantly by purposefully placing myself around poisonous, destructive people and doing so with such enthusiasm that I now have to wonder. When I see another knife in my back, I dance and rejoice for it.I say to myself, at least they are free to be themselves. They can hurt me and be free. It is better I am hurt if it means they are free. I see now, that I was foolish. Incredibly so.

It was happening again. This time, I had an axe in my back. This time, it was flung at me with such force, I physically staggered. I was axed by the person I loved most in the world.

I wish it was a boyfriend or husband. That would have made some type of sense. It would have been bearable. This was family. Blood. A close family member. Did you think it was romantic? Oh no. This is real life not the movies my dear. While I was sleeping, a family member axed me.

I remained sitting, acutely aware of my humiliation. I could taste iron.
I sat in my chair, immobile for a few moments, looking around the room, as if searching for numbness. Numbness that would help reduce this intensity and sour taste in my mouth. Willing adrenaline to kick in. Yet, all I could feel was pain. Pain and helplessness. My head hurt. My eyes felt too big for their sockets. No tears. Thank God.

I looked down at my forearms, I was cold.

I looked up, watching them nod their heads, up, down. Up, down. Eyes tightly closed, in sync with one another as they prayed. Unusually calm. This prayer was different to their usual shouting and stumping. Time stilled as I watched these two people pray. Even though time slowed, the room felt like it was buzzing. Things seemed to be speeding up around me. I zoned out completely and was thrown back into the room to hear, “In Jesus name”. “In Jesus name”. “In Jesus name”. One of them, I can no longer remember which, kept repeating, “In Jesus name”. I refused to say “Amen”.

No need.
They eventually said it for me.

“AMEN”. One said.
“Amen”. The other responded.
I stayed silent.
“Oya, Chiamaka pray for Ann”.
“Pray for Ann”
I looked up at this woman asking me to pray for this person who just admitted with a fearsome boldness to wrecking my name. Ruining my reputation. ON PURPOSE. For purely selfish motives. Fully expecting me to laugh and forgive – again!
No. Not this time.
This time felt malicious in its intent.It was no mistake or misunderstanding. It was strategic. It was executed with stealth. I could feel the axe.
I sat there.


In my head, I wondered why this woman would not correct Ann. She just heard her confess to ruining my integrity. She heard her admit to bad mouthing me and the rest of my family and she had nothing else to say to Ann. I waited. I gave her time to correct her. Chastise her. Something. Anything. If roles were reversed, she would have started schooling me. She would have given me examples of ways I had been wrong. She would have lectured and berated me, without a pause. Instead, I heard silence. Then, “oh”.

This woman turned to me and said, “I would do exactly as Ann did if I was Ann”

My head jerked up so quickly I may have injured something.
I had to ask.
“I would do exactly as Ann did if I was Ann”

She repeated it.

I WAS cold. I was freezing. My hands were shaking.


I was raging, in my head. Externally, my body remained in the seat unable to move. My head bowed. I was staring at my thighs. Then the floor.

I looked up at this woman calling my name. She said something I missed entirely.”I said, pray for Ann”, she instructed me again.
I kept staring at her. I could not help myself. I just kept staring.
Numbness had finally set in.

My mind was made up. No more. This was the final straw. I had had enough. This was it.

So, for the first time in a very long while, I refused a request from a person in authority. I felt my head moving. I was shaking my head. ENOUGH.
I had finally had enough.
I could breathe.
This person I would have gladly given my life for, just boldly hacked me with an axe, she hacked me. Full of gleeful malice. Sat there, with faux remorse. Fully expecting me to laugh it off. Make up excuses for her. She threw prayers at me and was waiting for forgiveness.

Was that a smile I just saw…?!
Not this time. Not again.
“I do not want to pray for her”, I heard my voice say.
“Ha, Chiamaka, that is unlike you. God instructs us to forgive over and over again. Ann has been honest about her part in all of this. She has told you everything. She was honest. She has even prayed for you. Just pray for her. Do not grieve the Holy Spirit. Do you not fear God? Pray for her. Respect God and pray for her…”
I looked from this woman to Ann and realised that I was just a tool to these people. Ann did not love me at all. I am not sure she gave two sh*** about me. She had never loved me. I was there to fulfill a purpose. That purpose had expired. She had no cause to pretend anymore. She had no use for me. This woman, this woman who I so much respected, did not care for me either. Her use for me was still valid but her use for Ann was far greater than her use for me.

Ann had vowed her loyalty to this woman.

She no longer needed me to access Ann. She now had direct access. I was out numbered . I was only a means to an end. She fully expected me to swallow all I just heard, laugh it off as usual and carry on as if I did not hear it?! Sadness threatened to choke me as I realised that these people did not even like me!
“NO!”, I insisted, my voice sounding oddly calm, careful to hide my broken heart. “I will not pray for her. I am ready to go now Aunty. Thank you for your time.”
“Chiamaka, wait, are you sure?”
I stared at this woman, as if seeing her for the first time. Going through all the times she had manipulated me. All they times they conspired to manipulate me. Tears pricked my eyes. I could not allow myself cry. Not in front of them…
“Yes Aunty. I am sure. Thank you for having me. I have to go now.”
I stood up.
“Ha, Chiamaka, I have never seen you like this. Is this the real you?”
I looked back at them both, smiled sweetly to this woman and looked at Ann, shook my head and said “Goodbye”.
Walking out, I felt protected. As if an invisible shield was covering me. A thick cloak, holding me together. I was angry. Nothing could penetrate this shield. I knew that even though my lips were smiling, they both felt the coldness of my eyes. That smile did not reach my eyes.
If Ann, who is family, can do this, anyone could harm me.
I could see myself now. Foolish. I let myself love these women. I allowed my weakness show. I deserve this. I forgot. I forgot to hide. I forgot to protect my heart. I forgot. I came out in the open and was hacked.
“Go home safely Chiamaka. Text me when you get home”
I looked up once more at this woman. This woman. All I felt was regret.
Then, liberty.
Suddenly, I felt un-burdened.
I was free from these two. They deserved each other. They are welcome to one another.

I did not respond.

I walked out of her house. I decided there that I would never go back.
I know I will eventually forgive them but I also know that I will  never allow them anywhere near me or allow them any access to my life even if it meant, shutting down every mutual friend we had.

I forgot myself and allowed them see my cards. I wanted us, all, to win. I gave them, especially Ann, access to my heart, my weaknesses. I shared my secrets. She was not just family. I thought she was my best friend.I know now that I will never make that mistake again.
I let my heart decide things for me. I cannot afford that anymore. The price is too high.
I thought my heart would be broken by a man, instead, a family member did the honour. Mercilessly. Better than any man could.

I seek justice. Fairness. Revenge…

*********TWO YEARS LATER********

I am myself again. At long last. I lost myself for a while. I finally found myself!
Looking back, I see that Ann was necessary.
She taught me a great lesson, of which I will always be grateful for; people will always be people.
It is okay to be objectively affectionate. You can be kind, objectively. You can treat people well without involving your heart.
It is true my heart was not broken by a boyfriend/beau but does it make it any less painful?
Guarding my heart is now paramount.
It is okay to let the bad/worse/worst go. Unforgiveness/Bitterness/Resentment. I have let them all go!
For MY sanity and wellness.
My life is now free. I let all the bad go, including Ann and people like her.
I have no space for the negative and will always give people like that a wide berth.
I let grudges go!

I let offence go!

I let hate go!

I am happier for it.
I am free.
I can now be me…
All of me.

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