Story Story: The Maid’s Desire (Part 7)

The affair between Agyekum and Serwaa shattered Eunice’s heart, but she had tried to forgive, to move past it for the sake of their children, and their family.

And then, there was the text message.

Agyekum had been restless that evening, his phone never far from his grasp. When it bumbled, he read the message, his expression darkening. It was from Serwaa, the former housemaid (the one who had brought more than just help into their home). A ghost from the past, clawing its way back into their lives.

Serwaa’s message was short, blunt. She demanded that Agyekum meet her immediately. There was something urgent in her tone, something that could not wait. Without a word to Eunice, he left, the door closing behind him with a conclusiveness that echoed through the empty house.

Alajo was not a place Agyekum frequented. The ghetto where Serwaa had asked to meet was far removed from the life, he knew at Ashongman Estates. The air was thick with the scent of desperation, the kind of place where dreams went to die. Serwaa was there, in a ghetto, waiting, her eyes cold and hard, devoid of the warmth that had once lured him into her arms.

“I’m pregnant,” she announced, her voice cutting through the silence. Agyekum felt the ground shift beneath him. He had hoped no, he had prayed that this would not happen, that their brief encounter would fade away like a bad dream. But Serwaa’s words were a stark prompt that actions have consequences, consequences that would now haunt him.

“I’m not going to abort it,” Serwaa continued, her tone daring him to protest. “So, if you have any plans to suggest that, you better keep them to yourself.”

Agyekum could only nod, his mind a whirl of fear, guilt, and something else, something darker. He left her there, in that grubby corner of Alajo, the weight of her words pressing down on him like a vice. The nearest drinking spot “Big Bottles Pub” called to him, offering a brief escape to the momentary paralysis that had just shattered his world.

Drink after drink, Agyekum tried to drown his demons, but they swam with him, grew stronger with every sip. By the time he staggered back home, the alcohol had taken control, twisting his thoughts, and sharpening his anger.

Eunice was there, just as she always was, her presence a painful cue to all that he had done, of all that he is about to lose.

In his drunken rage, he dragged her to the bedroom and lashed out, the violence shocking even to the devil. His hands, once tender, were now weapons, bruising the very woman who had borne his children, who had stood by him even when he did not deserve it. He tore at her clothes, the sound of fabric ripping as loud as a scream in the night. And then, in the ultimate act of hatred, he violated her body.

Eunice did not scream. She did not cry. She simply closed her eyes and waited for it to be over, her mind retreating to a place where he could not reach her, where the pain could not touch her. When it was done, she lay there, broken in more ways than one, the darkness of the night a cruel reflection of the darkness that had taken hold of her life.

Morning would come again, as it always did. The chores would still be there, the children would still need her. But something in Eunice had died that night, something that no amount of cleaning or caring could ever restore. She had become a full-time housewife, yes, but at what cost? Gone were the days when Agyekum’s touch was gentle and his kisses reassuring.

Her beloved husband doesn’t gently take off her briefs, get between her and spread her thighs with his knees and rub himself against her until she is wet like a waterslide anymore.

The woman she once was, the love she once knew, those were gone, replaced by a hollow shell of duty and despair.

As Agyekum stumbled into the silence of sleep, the three-bedroom house that had once been a home was now just another place of torment, where broken souls lived.

Watch out for Part 8

To read previous parts, follow this link

https://ghananewsonline.com.gh/story-story-the-maids-desire-part-1/

By Nana Ama Asantewaa Kwarko

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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