(Read the third part here)

Tamuno made her way through the gate of her school, her movement fluid, her demeanour pleasant, her eighteen-inch weave flowing graciously behind her.

She met Kachi leaning by the door of the green cab, his legs crossed, his sleeves rolled up his arms. She found him attractive, except for his slight pot-belly. She hadn’t noticed it up until now. She liked several other things about him, especially how he spoke- so gentle, so fluent, so polished- like a true gentleman, and that easily made up for his pot-belly.

“Hi,” she said, extending her arm.

“You look… beautiful,” Kachi said with an exaggerated seriousness, taking her hand in his, and drawing her closer for a quick hug.

“Oh, thanks.”

“So where are we hanging out?” he asked.

“I thought you already had that figured out,” Tamuno replied incredulously.

“I don’t live in Abuja. I wouldn’t know the happening spots. So could you get off your high horse and help a brother?”

Tamuno sighed and flipped out her blackberry. She scrolled through her phone, down and up, up and down.

“Ok, errr… How about dinner at the hotel where I stay? Rumour has it that tonight’s special and promises to be sumptuous. Should we?”


Tamuno sat across from Kachi in a reserved corner of the restaurant, their knees touching.

She sipped on her drink, “So, I’m wondering why you are not married.”

Kachi took a sip too from his drink, not once taking his gaze away from Tamuno, “Did I say I was not?”

“Oh, you’re married?” Tamuno asked not hiding her disappointment. “I didn’t know that was a wedding band,” she said looking at his ring finger. “I mean, it’s too huge. Never seen a wedding band that huge, especially for a man.”

Kachi laughed, saying nothing.

“So what am I doing here with you?” she asked.

“I didn’t know that I couldn’t be friends with you if I was married.”

“I didn’t say that,” Tamuno responded pouting. “So tell me about your wife.”

Kachi raised his arm, “I don’t talk about my wife or my children. I could tell you any other thing.”

After dinner, they walked to the poolside arm-in-arm, talking in low tones. As they sat on the wooden seat, Tamuno shuddered.

“Are you cold?” Kachi asked pulling her close to him.

“Mmnh,” she cuddled comfortably into his arms. She liked his smell. She stroked the back of his neck, and Kachi remembered that Chikanyimma used to do that a lot. Now, Chikanyimma couldn’t even relax in his arms. She spent most nights going between their’s and Ahamefuna’s rooms to check if he had again awakened from his sleep, and to rock him back to bed. He closed his eyes and rubbed Tamuno’s arm tenderly.


“Mummy,” Nwakego called out closing the door gently after her, “it’s eight-thirty. Are we not going to church today?”

Chikanyimma still sat by the window from where she had watched Iya Ibukun and her son. “No dear,” she answered, “I’m tired today. You and Akunna should pray together in your room, and make sure you read your bible too. There’s hot water in the flask and bread in the fridge. Help yourselves. Is that okay?”

“Yes mummy,” Nwakego said and left the room.

Chikanyimma walked to the bedside fridge and brought out a glass, half-filling it with water. She searched her brown bag for the sachet of bromazepam the pharmacist had given her.

Two days ago, she had complained to the doctor, “I’m not sleeping well. I lie awake on the bed until well into midnight. I awake with headache, tired and heavy in the mornings. This has been going on and off for years, but in the last two months, I’ve not had any respite.”

As the doctor wrote into her file, he asked, “Do you sleep with the lights on? Or in a noisy neighbourhood?”


“Your blood pressure is rocket-high. It could turn out disastrous if you don’t religiously take your medication. I’ll place you on antihypertensives and prescribe a sedative. Also, take warm milk at night, and try to stop worrying about things you have no control over. Worry never solved anything, okay?” Chikanyimma nodded.

“Get these drugs at the pharmacy, and come back to see me in a week’s time,” he said tearing off a stamped sheet. “You’ll be fine, okay?” Chikanyimma nodded again.

“One tablet only at night,” the pharmacist said as she handed her the sachet of bromazepam. “Your doctor says for just three nights.”

“Thank you,” Chikanyimma said and walked out of the pharmacy.

Now, she brought out the sachet from her bag and popped open five tablets, dropping them into the glass of water. She stirred with a spoon and started to walk, glass-in-hand, to Ahamefuna’s room.

Ahamefuna lay clutching his pillow, several clothes strewn all over his bed. He didn’t stir when Chikanyimma tapped him on the leg.

Distraught by her actions, she went on her knees, and in a voice she had never heard herself speak with cried, her palms fitted in between her thighs, her head bowed, “God, if you are there, hear me out now. I can’t… I can’t continue this journey. You won’t heal him, then take him. Take him away from me. Let him be with you. I want my husband back. I want my family back. I want my career back. I want my life back. Take him and restore my life to me,” she groaned, sucking in the phlegm in her throat.

The door that was slightly ajar widened and cool breeze waded in. At the door, Akunna and Nwakego peeked, tears in their eyes.

Nwakego spoke first, “mummy, you are asking God to take away my only brother?”

Chikanyimma rested her back against the bed and her head on her palms, silent.

Akunna spoke hurriedly, as though to counter the words before God answered them, “God, please don’t. Mummy, please don’t ask God to do that. We love Aham, mummy. He’s only a special child, remember?” She went forward to sit by Chikanyimma, and took her hand in both of hers.

When Akunna spoke, she reminded Chikanyimma of her own mother, the surety in her voice, the unwavering of her belief, the wisdom in her words, “Mummy, you usually say no condition is permanent. This too shall pass.”

Chikanyimma looked at the glass of water by her side, a wry smile lurking at the corners of her lips. “This too shall pass,” she repeated after her daughter. She believed it. She would make it happen.


Chinazar Okoro©2013


18 thoughts on “THIS TOO SHALL PASS (4)

  1. oyintiwa says:

    How can dis be d end now. Chinazar u better continue d story………brought tears to my eyes*sniffing*. Dis is really touching. Having a special child takes a lot of patience n will power. Chinazar dis is really good. Thumbs up

  2. Madam,
    Nawa fr u ooo, hw can d story end like dt?
    Wt abt kachÍ and tamuno? And other serenren….
    Anyways, the story was nice bt pls put epilogue or sometn Sha
    Thanks very much

  3. Ebi says:

    okay… not to state the obvious… buh i cnt help it… Chinazar, how far na… i was expecting a happy ending atleast or a sad one, maybe she died or something… (-_-)… :p

  4. tegzy says:

    Madam! Aw dare u make me cry early in d morning? Nyc n touching! Now all ill b thinking is: where is dat her senseless husband n wats he doin? I maintain all wat I said under part 3 and also add that it might not b a special kid in our lives buh most times, there is always that one thing that seems to make us miserable, that thing that we seem 2 see no end to: God always knows n its only there to make us stronger and keep our Faith active! God bless ur ministry Krazan! 🙂 NB: u can like to be karen kingsbury o, writing 4 series with 5books each about the same story, buh it will sha finish 1 day! So berra do sumfin 2 continue dis story! *tongue out*

  5. PSAMIE says:

    ……. I hv always known Naza to b a prolific writer.
    This isn’t in any way short of genius…kudos
    But the story never finish na….shuuuuu

  6. princess says:

    4 once I’m not satisfied with the ending of dis story..I guess its part of her gimic..*eyes rolling*…but stories like these shld end happy..a sad ending jst distorts a readers brain wave thought process..”If u knw what I mean”…

  7. Rytzy says:

    Aaaaaaaaawww….*sniffs*….and I’m also NOT SATISFIED…how can it just end ds way ehnmm…its not fair o krazan…berra write a part 5 (˘̯ (˘̯˘ ) …btw twas a geeewd one ( ื▿ ืʃƪ)

  8. Ebi says:

    after all has been said and done… Chinazar, you owe us another story… maybe you can call it “it passed!” 😀

  9. Ebi says:

    after all that has been said… Chinazar, you owe us another story… maybe you can call it “it passed!” 😀

  10. sagachristos says:

    Lmao at all the comments.ur pple dey vex o..well funny enough,I don’t have a problem with the end of the story per se,but it’s kachi’s unfinished story I have a problem did he and tamuno end?did they marry?break up?kill each other or what?anyways, I think you did well :d

    • Chinazar says:

      About Kachi? C’mon guys, how he & Tamuno ended is ‘and so on and so forth’. They cuddling & going all lovey-dovey is the beginning of any other thing. Main point is he lost commitment to Chikanyimma.

      Seems most people missed the point I was driving at at the end. Chikanyimma would eventually kill Aham! When she repeated after Akunna that ‘This too shall pass’, she believed it because she was going to make it happen herself. I alluded to it by indicating that she had a wry (ironic) smile whilst looking @ the drugged glass of water.

      Oh well, I could have done a better job @ communicating this, but I quite liked the end and didn’t want to alter it.

      Thanks guys for reading and feedback.

  11. Kenechukwu Enebeli-OKPAKO says:

    Chinazar!!!!! why have you decided to make me cry? i saw this post from part one and decided to wait till you finish the story before i start to read. you are indeed gifted. God bless you. very very good write up

  12. Ebi says:

    Ah! *faints!! *pleaseWakeMeUpWithFiveAlive….
    she killed Aham!!! i dnt know wah to say… aba! miracles happen now abi? *stillOnTheGroundOoooh

  13. Tutu says:

    Just got in here…Ebi, what has Five Alive got to do with fainting?…Anyways, remember we both av birthdays this month o!…*big smile

    D story was a good read Chinazar…thumbs up. I’ve got no problems with the ending…brevity is the sole of writing. Meanyl, there’s good news for those who are not happy abt d tragic end…we got people who raise d dead in the house…!*winks

  14. hesthar says:

    Very beautiful. But y is this the end naa……….

  15. Emeka O. says:

    So, finally summoned up the courage and patience to read the four parts, and I begin to think, I really am no longer a biased reader. I am a fan who can almost find no wrong… maybe I was never unbiased from the beginning. After all you are… [suspense intended]

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