Mgbọrọgwụ (Root) – Chapter Three: Blood on a Peaceful Night
Some blood is spilled loudly, announced by war drums and chaos. But blood on a peaceful night is different. It arrives uninvited, tearing through laughter, love, and calm moments meant to be safe. It stains what should never have been touched and turns ordinary evenings into unforgettable scars. This is Mgbọrọgwụ (Root) – Chapter Three: Blood on a Peaceful Night, where peace is shattered by hands that should have protected it.
Truly, danger does not always knock before entering. Sometimes it comes through familiar footsteps, raised voices, and buried resentment. Sit tight and experience Chapter Three…
Miss Chapter Two? Click here to read.
Up next: Mgbọrọgwụ (Root) – Chapter Four: A Joy Long Awaited
Mgbọrọgwụ (Root) – Chapter Three: Blood on a Peaceful Night
Two months had passed since their wedding anniversary, an anniversary they had celebrated with laughter, music, and a love that felt untouched by the troubles of the world. Yet even after those months, nothing had changed in Ihemjika and Nkemdilim’s home. Peace still lived within their walls. Love still breathed freely between them.
They lived like two people who had no worries at all.
Ihemjika adored his wife. He treated Nkemdilim like a queen hidden in a grand castle, surrounded by a maze so carefully built that no hardship could reach her. He made sure she never lifted her hands in struggle. Everything she needed in life was provided without delay. He gave her the soft life he had promised, and he kept that promise faithfully.
Nkemdilim became the envy of women wherever she went. Her clothes were always among the newest. Her shoes, beads, wrappers, and adornments were always the finest. Anything that made a woman beautiful, Nkemdilim seemed to have it first. Heads turned whenever she passed. Whispers followed her steps.
That evening, Ihemjika sat under a large tree in his compound, enjoying the cool evening breeze. He fanned himself slowly with a local hand fan, an akupe, letting the day melt away from his body.
Nkemdilim stepped out of the kitchen, carrying a bowl of food carefully in her hands. As she approached her husband, she bowed slightly. Ihemjika smiled, collected the bowl from her hands, and helped place it on the small table she had already arranged in front of him.
He looked into the bowl and laughed softly.
“Nkem,” he asked casually, “what is inside this plate again? What are you up to this time? It has not even been up to three hours since I last ate. Do you want to kill me with food?”
Click here to read our powerful short drama story, When Blood Is Not Enough
Nkemdilim laughed, her eyes shining.
“No, my love,” she replied gently. “My intention is not to kill you but to nourish you. How else can I show you how much I love you if not by taking care of your health? I prepared bushmeat pepper soup. I used one of the bushmeats you brought home yesterday. Just eat and enjoy this evening.”
Ihemjika laughed loudly, happiness written all over his face. He tapped her lightly on the back.
“Thank you, my dear wife. Thank you very much,” he said warmly. “Do you see why I love you so much? I knew you were special from the very first day I saw you in that village square, shaking your body joyfully as you danced, as if you had no problem in this world.”
He paused, his voice softening.
“I have a gift of discernment. I know when someone is genuine. That day, I knew instantly that you were. Thank you for taking care of me to the best of your ability all these years we have been together. I will never take it for granted.”
Nkemdilim smiled shyly, blushing.
“Thank you, my husband,” she replied. “Thank you for making it easy for me to love you and care for you. You are special to me. I thank my Chi that I chose right.”
Ihemjika asked her to bring a chair and sit beside him so they could eat together.
Nkemdilim nodded, went inside briefly, and returned with a small wooden stool. She sat beside him, and they both began to eat from the bowl of pepper soup.
After a few spoonfuls, Ihemjika sighed in satisfaction.
“This pepper soup is exactly the way you used to cook it,” he said happily. “It tastes so good. The pepper is just right-not too much, not too small. It suits this evening perfectly. I really appreciate you, my wife.”
Nkemdilim smiled again.
“Thank you, my husband. Thank you for always eating my food.”
He grew serious suddenly.
“But I don’t like seeing you stress yourself every day in that kitchen,” he said. “I have begged you before to allow me get maidens to help you. People who will serve you, who will help with chores. That is why I don’t allow you go to the farm. I don’t want you to toil under the sun with me. And now I see you toiling under fire just to give me food. I don’t like it.”
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
“Especially now that we are still trusting our Chi for the fruit of the womb. Let me get two maidens, at least. Even one or two will do. When children start coming, we can increase them. I have enough money. Who am I working for if not you and the children our Chi will bless us with?”
Nkemdilim smiled gently.
“I know, my love. I understand,” she replied. “But I have told you before that I don’t want any maidens. You already don’t allow me do anything. The only thing I do in this house is cook and take care of the home. What else do I do apart from that? And every responsible wife should cook for her husband. It is not a hard job to me. It is my duty.”
Ihemjika sighed.
“I know it is your duty, Nkem,” he said. “But it is too much. Can’t you understand the kind of soft life I want to give you? I don’t want you lifting a finger. I want everything at your beck and call. You can sit and instruct maidens while they prepare the food. I don’t like seeing you stress yourself.”
Nkemdilim’s smile faded slightly.
“I understand,” she said quietly. “But I can’t accept that. And besides, you want me to take that risk?”
Ihemjika looked at her, confused.
“What risk?”
She looked into his eyes.
“You know I have told you this before,” she said slowly. “You are a very handsome man. Tall, strong, respected, wealthy. You have everything any maiden would want in a husband. And coupled with the fact that I have not given you a child yet… you want me to bring maidens into this house?”
Her voice trembled.
“So they can open my eyes and take the precious jewel my Chi has placed in my hands? I can’t allow it. I cannot allow any woman take you away from me. God forbid. My Chi will reject it.”
Ihemjika burst into laughter.
“Nkem!” he exclaimed. “So this is the reason you have been stressing yourself all this while? Cooking every day and rejecting my offer?”
He laughed again, shaking his head.
“You know how much I love you. You know my heart belongs to you. Nothing in this world can make me choose another woman over you. I can’t even look at another woman’s face. You are my woman. It is both of us for life. So remove that thought from your head.”
He looked at her closely.
“Or are you saying you don’t trust me?”
Nkemdilim smiled faintly.
“Ihem, you know I trust you,” she replied. “This is not about trust. You are a man, not a tree. Things can happen. Especially since I have not given you a child yet. I don’t want to give any chance at all. Besides, what work am I really doing? Cooking for you alone and cleaning the house? I’m not cooking for the whole village. I’m okay the way we are. I don’t want any maiden.”
They were still eating and talking calmly when raised voices suddenly broke the peace.
Shouting.
Footsteps.
Angry voices entering the compound.
They both looked up in shock.
Before they could understand what was happening, Nwamaka, Ihemjika’s mother, stormed into the compound with three hefty men behind her.
“Yes! Follow me! Follow me!” she shouted. “This is the compound. Today, that woman is leaving my son’s house for good. She is leaving my son’s life today!”
Ihemjika stood up immediately.
As Nwamaka approached them, she pointed angrily at Nkemdilim.
“This is her!” she screamed at the men. “This witch! Bundle her out of this compound. Whatever charm she used to hold my son, I am breaking it today! Take her out!”
Ihemjika was stunned.
“Mama!” he shouted. “What is the meaning of this nonsense? Has it reached this level? You walk into my compound with men to bundle my wife away? For what? Mama, what is the meaning of this?”
Nwamaka ignored him completely.
“I said bundle her out!” she screamed. “Out of my son’s life!”
Nkemdilim broke down in tears.
“Mama, please,” she cried. “Don’t do this. What have I done to you? What wrong have I done?”
Nwamaka turned on her furiously.
“Don’t ask me that foolish question!” she shouted. Today, I am breaking the charm you used to hold him. Get out of my son’s life! Get out!”
Nwamaka continued, her voice sharp with bitterness.
“All you know how to do is sit here and eat his money,” she spat. “Money he sweats for-sweat you never share with him. Other women go to the farm with their husbands, but you? You don’t step out. You do nothing except eat his wealth. Yet you cannot give him a child!”
She pointed angrily at the bowl of pepper soup before them.
“Look at you, sitting comfortably, eating bushmeat pepper soup! While other wives are still in the farm this very moment, sweating beside their husbands. I don’t even blame you anymore. But today is the end of it.”
She drew herself up, breathing hard.
“I warned you, I told you the next time I came here, I would not come alone. I promised I would bundle you out of this house. Am here today, to fulfill that promise.”
She turned sharply to the men behind her.
“What are you still waiting for? Go and carry this woman out! Bundle her out of this compound!”
As the men attempted to step forward, Ihemjika rose swiftly and positioned himself directly in front of his wife. His body stiffened, his eyes blazing. In that moment, he looked every inch the chief warrior he was known to be.
He spoke slowly, his voice low but filled with danger.
“If any of you crosses this line,” he warned, “I will not be responsible for whatever happens to you. Try it. Dare it. Come near my wife.”
The men froze.
They began to fidget, exchanging nervous glances. Not one of them stepped forward.
Nwamaka saw their hesitation and exploded with rage.
“What is wrong with you people?” she shouted. “Are you telling me that three grown men cannot face one man? Go and do what I told you! How can one man stop all of you?”
One of the men swallowed hard and turned to her.
“Mama,” he said shakily, “you never told us we were coming to the house of a chief warrior. You never told us.”
Another quickly added, fear clear in his voice.
“Mama, we cannot do this. Not after what we have heard about him. Not after what he did in Iheama village. And how he defeated all the men there. Mama, I don’t want to die yet.”
The third man nodded frantically.
“We cannot do this. Please, mama.”
Almost immediately, the three men began retreating.
“Mama… mama… mama…”
They abandoned her and fled the compound.
Nwamaka stood there, trembling with rage. She turned to Nkemdilim, her eyes burning.
“You think you have won?” she hissed. “You think this is over? I will never allow this. You are leaving my son’s house today!”
She lunged forward and grabbed Nkemdilim by the hand, dragging her roughly.
Ihemjika roared in fury and seized his mother’s arm.
“Mama!” he shouted. “Leave my wife alone! Leave her now! Don’t push me to disrespect you. Leave my wife and leave this compound!”
As they struggled, Nkemdilim suddenly screamed.
“Ah! My stomach! My stomach!”
She clutched her abdomen tightly.
They all froze.
Blood.
A thin stream of blood was running down her legs.
Everyone shouted at once.
“Blood?”
“What blood?”
“What is happening?”
The quarrel ended instantly. Every eye turned to Nkemdilim.
Ihemjika turned on his mother, his voice shaking with rage.
“What is wrong with my wife?” he demanded.
Nwamaka asked in shock, “Why is she bleeding?”
Ihemjika responded angrily, “Don’t ask me. I should be the one asking you! What have you done to my wife? We were having a peaceful evening until you burst into this compound. Now look at her! Mama, what have you done to my wife?”
Nwamaka began to tremble.
“I-I don’t know,” she stammered. “I don’t know. But we must take her to the midwife. Please. We must take her to the midwife now.”
Ihemjika bent down immediately.
“No problem,” he said coldly. “But if anything happens to my wife, I will never forgive you. I warned you to stop tormenting us. I warned you to stop stressing us. Look at what you have caused.”
His voice dropped dangerously.
“Pray that nothing happens to her. Because if it does, you will not like my reaction.”
Without another word, he lifted Nkemdilim onto his shoulder and began running toward the midwife’s home. Nwamaka followed behind, crying and shouting for help as she struggled to keep up.
Within minutes, they arrived at the midwife’s compound. She was inside attending to other women and sick people when they began calling urgently.
“Pleading! Please, come quickly! It is an emergency!”
The midwife rushed out, studied them briefly, then instructed calmly,
“Gently place her on a mat inside my chamber.”
Ihemjika carried Nkemdilim in and laid her carefully on the mat. They were asked to wait outside.
After examining her, the midwife prepared herbs quickly, forcing some into Nkemdilim’s mouth and applying others to parts of her body. Soon after, the bleeding stopped, and Nkemdilim drifted into a deep sleep.
The midwife stepped outside to meet them.
“Who are you both to her?” she asked.
Before anyone else could speak, Ihemjika answered quickly,
“She is my wife. And this is my mother-her mother-in-law.”
The midwife nodded slowly.
“That explains it,” she said. “There is good news.”
Ihemjika stared at her in disbelief.
“Good news?” he repeated sharply. “My wife is bleeding, and you are talking about good news?”
The midwife raised her hand gently.
“Calm down. The good news is this; your wife is pregnant.”
There was few seconds silence.
Then-
“Pregnant?!”
Both Ihemjika and Nwamaka shouted in shock.
“Yes,” the midwife replied calmly. “She is pregnant. Eight weeks gone.”
Ihemjika’s face broke into pure joy.
“We didn’t know,” he said breathlessly. “Even my wife didn’t know. This is what we have been praying for. Thank you! Thank you!”
He lifted his face to the sky.
“Thank you, Chi m!”
Then suddenly fear returned to his eyes.
“But she was bleeding,” he said quickly. “Is the pregnancy still safe?”
The midwife nodded reassuringly.
“I checked her thoroughly. If you had arrived later, it might have been too late. But by the mercy of God, the pregnancy is still there. The baby is fine. However, she needs a lot of rest. Whatever caused the bleeding must never happen again.”
She paused.
“This time, she may not be so lucky.”
Ihemjika turned slowly to his mother.
“Did you hear that?” he asked quietly. “Do you see what your actions almost cost us?”
Nwamaka’s eyes filled with tears.
“I am sorry, my son,” she said softly. “I never knew what I was looking for had already happened. My impatience nearly destroyed everything. I promise you; this will never happen again. I love your wife. All I wanted was for you to secure a name in this village. I am truly sorry.”
Ihemjika nodded slowly.
“May it never happen again.”
He turned to the midwife.
“Can I see my wife now?”
“She is sleeping,” the midwife replied. “You can go home and return in the morning. She will be fine, and you can take her home then.”
Reassured, Ihemjika and his mother left, both filled with relief and hope.
That night, Ihemjika barely slept…
Up next: Mgbọrọgwụ (Root) – Chapter Four: A Joy Long Awaited
The Night Does Not End Here…
Blood fell on a night that was meant to be peaceful, but its meaning is far deeper than pain alone. What was revealed in fear will demand protection, wisdom, and restraint. The child announced in crisis will test love, loyalty, and patience in ways yet unseen.
This night has planted a root, one that will either grow into healing or tear this family apart.
If you have walked through this chapter with Ihemjika and Nkemdilim, do not stop now.
👉 Continue to Chapter Four: A Joy Long Awaited
Because after blood is spilled, peace is never the same and love is about to be tried by fire.
Missed the path that led here?
👉 Read Chapter Two to understand the tensions that made this night inevitable.
Stay with this story.
The roots are deep.
And what grows next will change everything.
Also, read “When Blood Is Not Enough” for another powerful story of faith, family, and the strength of character.
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