Chapter 34: Samson.
Eight months after Ikenna and Ehis broke into my apartment, Ifeyinwa gave birth to a boy. Due to the fact that we had no Health Insurance, i paid cash for the maternity bills. The baby looked strong, therefore we called him Samson. He resembled the mother. I had decided to assume the role of the father. Ify delivered Samson through operation because he grew big right from the stomach. I had hired a Nigerian man who had Dutch passport to sign as the father of the boy. It gave Ify and the baby the opportunity to get resident permits.
Ify was required to provide her international passport. A temporal resident permit was stamped in her passport which would be gradually renewed in time. I had paid €5000 to the man who signed as Samson’s Father.
After one week of Ify’s delivery, i took out time and calculated the money i had spent on the Boy and the mother. It was close to €9,000. That was a lot of money which many people would have condemned me for paying if i had told them but since i hated discouragement, i didn’t tell anyone except Robin.
He had called me one afternoon and asked why i haven’t returned to our apartment in Krainest. I told him that i was coming and when i came, i told him everything.
Robin was atleast 6 years older than i was. I regarded him as an elder brother since we came from the same extended family. However, he knew that i was a person who always came up with ideas of my own and how to implement them.
He didn’t blame me for everything i did for Ify, he only said that he could have discouraged me initially if i had told him that i wanted to find an apartment for her. He said he didn’t know i could be that secretive for such a long time.
Netherlands and Europe were unlike Africa where one can invite a relative’s child or hire a nanny to help in raising a baby. The entire responsibilities usually lied with the parents. The parents Samson had in Amsterdam was Ify and I. The name which he was given at birth was that of the man who had taken money from me just to sign that he was the father. Either way, i was a loser. The boy didn’t have my name and my blood. Sometimes i wondered what was in it for me but i remembered that it was only the society failures who always wanted something in return each time someone asked them for help.
The whole thing was a punishment for me. Yes, it was a punishment because, i had decided not to fall in love with Ify. I had rebuffed every love advance she had made. It had taken her many months to make the first move.
We were playing Ludo game that night with a bottle of open red wine in front of us. She had gotten tipsy and amidst laughter from the jokes i was telling her, she had dropped the Ludo cup, held my neck and planted a kiss on my lips. I didn’t respond or push her out, she was pregnant. I just waited until she finished kissing me, then i said:
”I don’t want you to repeat this another time”
She cried all through the night but i wasn’t moved. She didn’t try that again
Until some months later when she was almost due for delivery.
We were watching a movie called Desparate Housewives in our sitting room. She had asked me to rub her large stomach and i agreed. The rubbing and massage had gotten to her and she had held me close and planted the kiss again. As usual, i allowed her to finish and when she was done, i said:
”I thought we agreed that you won’t try that again”?
She had started beating me and shouting.
”You are wicked, you are a coward, i hate you”.
And all of a sudden, the cries and shouting had turned to:
”My stomach, please hold me, please, please, i am dying”.
I was alerted. It was unusual. I didn’t know what it was. I had tried to calm her down but she was restless. I had almost called the Ambulance but i decided to knock on the doors or our neighbour. She was a Suriname woman who had two Sturbon children.
The woman followed me into our apartment and after observing Ify, she said that she was in Labour.
Labour! Was it what i said that triggered her labour? Was i guilty of any offence? I didn’t think so.
The Suriname woman had a small car. She had held Ify up and asked me to help take her to the car. We had taken her to the car where we stood and waited for the woman to get the keys and open the vehicle.
Three of us had driven to a hospital there in Bulewijk and registered.
About four months before the labour, i had taken Ify to the Nigerian Embassy in Den Hague. She had made international passport which made me €840 poorer.
We had registered Ify in the hospital where i was told to go and get some birthing stuffs we had purchased some weeks back. The good Suriname woman had driven me back to the house and took me back to the hospital. I was told to wait at the hospital canteen while they did whatever they did in the labour room.
”Are you the husband of Miss Ify” a black female nurse had asked me.
I nodded and kept quiet since i didn’t know the next question.
”We are going to operate on her, the baby can’t come out on its own” she had said.
My mind had made a quick calculation and came to the conclusion that the process was going to cost much more money than i had budgeted.
”Really, if that is the best option, please go ahead” i said.
She asked me to follow her to a room where i signed a document written in Dutch. I knew German, therefore it was not difficult to know that i was signing an approval for the operation.
Assuming the responsibility of the husband was a dangerous one. I had signed a document which gave me the sole responsibility of Ify and her baby. If anything went wrong during the operation, i was required to also take the responsibility.
The lady had made some receipts and asked me for my health Insurance card. I had told her that i didn’t have that. She had said that i would pay €2400 in cash.
I had hoped that the birthing process won’t cost me more than a thousand Euro but things had quickly changed.
”Alright, go ahead and operate on her” i had said.
” Each day is a little life: every
waking and rising is a little birth,
every fresh morning is a little
youth, every going to rest and
sleep is a little death”
WELCOME, THE STRONG MAN