The Third Woman

I did not sleep that night.

The woman on the phone said: "I am the woman Chidi promised to marry before you. I am the woman Chidi gave N50,000 to abort, just like you."

Chidi had a third woman. A third victim.

The next morning, I went to Chidi's house. Not his Lekki mansion — that was seized. His small one-room apartment in Surulere. Where he was hiding.

He was sitting on the floor, unshaven, holding his mother's photo.

"Chidi, tell me the truth. Who is the third woman?"

Chidi looked up. His eyes were red.

"Amara, her name is Funke. Funke Adeleke. She was my girlfriend before you. Before University. In secondary school. I promised to marry her. She got pregnant. I gave her N50,000 to abort. She refused. She kept the baby. A girl. Her name is Adaeze. She is 7 years old now."

My mouth opened. Chidi had a daughter. 7 years old. Older than Chiamaka.

"Chidi, you have a daughter? You never told me? You never told Sophia?"

Chidi cried. "I was ashamed. Funke left Lagos. She went to Ibadan. She said she would never forgive me. She said one day, she would make me pay. And now, she has kidnapped my mother to make me pay."

Sophia entered the room. She had been listening outside.

"Chidi, Funke kidnapped your mother? Are you sure?"

Chidi showed us a photo on his phone. A woman. Dark skin. Beautiful. Holding a small girl's hand. Standing in front of a shop in Ibadan.

"Funke sent me this photo this morning. She said, 'Chidi, this is your daughter Adaeze. She is 7 years old. She has never met her father. You threw her away like you threw away Amara and me. Now I have your mother. Come to Ojuelegba bridge alone, or you will never see your mother again.'"

I held my chest. My heart was beating fast.

So Chidi had done it to THREE women. Funke. Me. Sophia. Same N50,000. Same words. Same cruelty.

Tunde entered. He was holding a file.

"Amara, I investigated Funke. She is not a kidnapper. She is a nurse in Ibadan. She takes care of Adaeze alone. She sells akara, like you did, Amara. She is not a criminal. I think someone else is using Funke's name to kidnap Mama Eze."

"Who?" I asked.

Tunde opened the file. Inside was a photo of a man. A man I had never seen before.

"His name is Barrister Femi. He was Chidi's business partner. He stole $5 million from Chidi's company and blamed Chidi. He is the one who reported Chidi to . And now, he has kidnapped Mama Eze to force Chidi to take the blame for the $5 million."

Chidi stood up. "Femi! Femi did this! Femi wants me to go to prison for his crime!"

Sophia called her father, Commissioner Adeyemi. "Daddy, we know who kidnapped Mama Eze. It is Barrister Femi. Please, send police to Ojuelegba bridge."

At 6pm, we went to Ojuelegba bridge. Not alone. With police hiding. With Tunde. With Sophia. With Chidi. With me.

A black car stopped. A man came down, holding Mama Eze's hand. Mama Eze was crying. She was 70 years old, thin, wearing a wrapper.

Femi came down. Smiling. Holding a gun.

"Chidi Eze! Bring the N10 million! Or I will shoot your mother!"

Chidi fell on his knees. "Femi, please! I don't have N10 million! My company is gone! Please, let my mother go!"

I stepped forward. I was holding Chiamaka's hand. Chiamaka was crying.

"Femi, let Mama Eze go. She is innocent. She has been sending money to my son for 5 years. She is a good woman."

Femi laughed. "Amara Okafor, the CEO. The queen. You think you are smart? You think you can save everyone?"

At that moment, a small girl ran out from behind Femi's car. 7 years old. Wearing a pink dress.

"Daddy! Daddy!" she shouted, running to Chidi.

It was Adaeze. Funke's daughter. Chidi's first daughter.

Chidi held Adaeze. He cried. He hugged her like he had never hugged anyone.

"Adaeze, my daughter. My first daughter. I am sorry. I am sorry I threw you away."

And as Chidi hugged Adaeze, the police came out from hiding. They arrested Femi. They freed Mama Eze.

Mama Eze ran to me. She hugged me. She hugged Chiamaka. She hugged Adaeze.

"Amara, my daughter. You are the only woman who ever loved my son when he was poor. Forgive him. Forgive him for me."

I looked at Chidi, holding his two children — Chiamaka and Adaeze — crying in the middle of Ojuelegba bridge.

And I said the line that made everyone cry:

"Chidi Eze, you threw away three women. But those three women are now standing together to save your mother. Too late for you to be a CEO. But not too late for you to be a father."