Episode 12: Everybody Has an Opinion
The first two days after finding out I was pregnant felt unreal.
Like my life had quietly shifted into somebody else’s story overnight.
I still attended lectures.
Still replied messages.
Still smiled at people when necessary.
But internally?
Nothing felt normal anymore.
Every morning, I woke up hoping maybe the test was wrong.
Then nausea would hit again.
And reality returned immediately.
Daniel became even more attentive after that night.
Calls every few hours.
Food deliveries.
Doctor appointment arrangements.
He even sent long texts reminding me to drink water and rest properly.
And somehow…
That almost scared me too.
Because everything was becoming serious very fast.
One evening after class, Daniel picked me up and drove us to a quiet restaurant.
The moment we sat down, I noticed he looked tense.
“What happened?” I asked softly.
He exhaled slowly.
“I told my mum.”
My heartbeat skipped instantly.
“You WHAT?”
“I couldn’t hide something this important from her.”
My chest tightened immediately.
“What did she say?”
Daniel rubbed his jaw.
“She was shocked.”
“Obviously.”
“But she also said we need to handle things responsibly.”
I stared quietly at the table.
Responsibly.
That word suddenly felt heavy.
Nigerian heavy.
The kind that usually comes with family meetings and disappointed relatives.
Then Daniel added carefully:
“She asked if I plan to marry you.”
My fingers tightened around the spoon instantly.
“And what did you say?”
His eyes met mine directly.
“That I love you.”
My chest betrayed me again.
Stupid chest.
“But?” I asked quietly.
Daniel sighed softly.
“But she also thinks we’re both under pressure emotionally right now.”
I frowned slightly.
“What does that mean?”
“She thinks pregnancy can make people rush decisions they’re not fully ready for.”
I looked away immediately because honestly…
Part of me had been wondering the same thing too.
Was marriage now becoming a solution to crisis?
Or something we genuinely still wanted independent of fear?
Daniel reached for my hand gently.
“I don’t want you thinking I’m staying because of obligation.”
“That thought already crossed my mind.”
He nodded slowly.
“I know.”
Silence settled briefly between us.
Then quietly, he said:
“But I also won’t lie to you… this changes things.”
My throat tightened immediately.
Because he was right.
No matter how modern people tried acting online, pregnancy changes relationships deeply.
Especially in Nigeria.
Now suddenly everybody’s opinions become louder.
Family.
Friends.
Society.
Church people that nobody invited.
Even distant relatives somehow develop emotional investment.
And right on schedule…
The opinions started arriving.
That night, Chioma sat beside me while eating gala.
“So what’s the plan now?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“You and Daniel haven’t discussed marriage?”
“We’ve discussed everything and nothing at the same time.”
She nodded slowly.
“That makes sense.”
“No it doesn’t.”
“It actually does,” she replied calmly. “Both of you are probably overwhelmed.”
I lay back on the bed tiredly.
“I’m scared people will think I trapped him.”
Chioma nearly choked on her drink.
“Trapped who? Daniel that was practically pricing curtains for your future apartment?”
Despite everything, I laughed.
But my laughter faded quickly again.
“Still…”
Chioma looked at me carefully.
“Ada, do you want to marry him?”
The question settled heavily inside me.
Did I?
The answer came immediately.
Yes.
But not because I was pregnant.
That was the confusing part.
I already loved him before this happened.
I already saw him inside my future before the pregnancy test.
Still…
Love and readiness are not always identical things.
The next morning, I received a call from my mother.
The moment I saw “Mummy” on my screen, panic nearly swallowed me alive.
Had someone told her already?
I answered nervously.
“Hello mummy.”
“Ada, how are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“You sound tired.”
“Just school stress.”
Mothers always know when something is wrong somehow.
“Hmmm,” she murmured suspiciously.
Then she said something that almost made me cry instantly.
“You know you can tell me anything, right?”
My throat tightened painfully.
Because suddenly I realized the next difficult conversation wasn’t with Daniel anymore.
It was with my parents.
And nothing terrified me more.
That evening, Daniel invited me over again.
When I arrived, I immediately noticed documents spread across the table.
Hospital information.
Budget calculations.
Academic calendars.
My chest tightened.
“You did all this?”
He looked up calmly.
“We need to think practically now.”
For almost two hours, we discussed everything.
Graduation plans.
Medical care.
Finances.
Family reactions.
Even possible timelines.
And somewhere during that conversation, something hit me deeply.
Daniel wasn’t behaving like somebody trapped.
He was behaving like somebody preparing.
Carefully.
Seriously.
At some point, I became emotional again.
“This isn’t how I imagined any of this happening.”
Daniel’s expression softened instantly.
“I know.”
“I wanted to graduate first.”
“You still will.”
“I wanted my parents to be proud during my graduation.”
“They still can be.”
Tears burned my eyes again.
“People will judge me.”
Daniel became quiet briefly.
Then softly:
“People judge women for everything anyway.”
I laughed weakly through my emotions.
Honestly?
True.
Then he moved closer and touched my face gently.
“Ada…”
“Hmmm?”
“I need you to stop seeing yourself as a mistake.”
That sentence broke something emotional inside me.
Because deep down…
That was exactly how I had started feeling.
Like disappointment.
Like failure.
Like a cautionary tale.
Daniel rested his forehead lightly against mine.
“You’re still the same woman I loved last month.”
Fresh tears slipped down my face silently.
Then suddenly, his phone buzzed again.
He glanced at it briefly.
And this time…
His expression hardened immediately.
“What?” I asked nervously.
Daniel locked the phone without replying.
“It’s Vanessa.”
My chest instantly became tired.
Not angry.
Just tired.
“What does she want now?”
He hesitated.
Then quietly:
“She heard about the pregnancy.”
The room went completely silent.
And immediately…
Something inside me knew peace was about to disappear again.
