Calm.
Sure.
“Don’t let her shine.”
“What?”
“Reduce her,” she said plainly.
My heart beat faster.
“Don’t let her look better than you.”
I didn’t speak.
“Don’t let her dress fine.”
“Don’t let her carry herself like a woman.”
“Make her know her place.”
That sentence…Stayed Deep.That night…I watched Blessing differently.The way she walked.The way she smiled.The way she tied her wrapper neatly.For the first time…I didn’t see innocence.I saw… risk.The next morning…
She came out dressed nicely.Hair neatly made.
Face fresh.
“Good morning, madam,” she greeted.
I looked at her.
“Go and change that cloth.”
She froze.
“Madam?”
“I said go and change it!”
Her eyes dropped immediately.
“Okay, ma.”
That was the beginning.From that day
Everything changed.I stopped buying her nice things.“Madam, my slippers is bad…”
“Manage it.”
Food? She started eating after everyone.
Sometimes leftovers.Sometimes nothing.
School?
“Madam, I want to learn tailoring…”
“Focus on your work!”
Her smile?It reduced.Her confidence?It disappeared.And somehow…That gave me peace.Or so I thought.Until that evening.I entered the kitchen quietly.And I heard her voice.
Broken.
“Madam…”
I stopped.
“I’m not your problem…”
My heart skipped.
“…your husband is.”
Everything inside me froze.Because the way she said it…It wasn’t accusation.It was experience.
And just then…I realized something I wasn’t ready for…Blessing wasn’t guessing.
She knew something.
Something I didn’t know yet.
“Madam… I’m not your problem… your husband is…”
I stood there.Frozen.
“Blessing…” I called slowly.
She turned.Her eyes met mine.There was
