She Was Forced To Marry A Poor Village Farmer Unaware He Is The Richest Man Alive

“Leave this room,” Mr. Obiora snapped.

“No.”

“Kemi—”

“I will not leave until you change it. Chika should go to the village. I will marry Tunde Bello.”

That was the first time she said his name openly. Tunde Bello. She had already chosen him in her mind, chosen the surname, the house, the image, the life.

Mr. Obiora shook his head. “No.”

Kemi laughed again, but this time her eyes were filling. “This is not fair,” she said. “And this is not the first time Chika has stood in my way.”

Chika turned slowly. “What does that mean?”

Kemi folded her arms. “You know what it means.”

“No,” Chika said. “Say it.”

Mr. Obiora looked between them. “What are you talking about?”

Chika answered before Kemi could. “Femi. From secondary school.”

Her father looked confused.

Chika’s eyes stayed on Kemi. “He used to wait for me after school. Then suddenly he stopped speaking to me and began following you. Later I heard you told him I was proud and already seeing someone else.”

Kemi shrugged. “He liked class. I simply gave him a better option.”

A dry laugh escaped Chika. “So it was true.”

“That was years ago.”

“And now you’re doing it again.”

Kemi’s expression did not soften. “If I want something, I take it. That is how life works.”

Then, before anyone could fully understand what she intended, she reached across the side table, grabbed the fruit knife from the tray, and held it to herself.

Everything changed at once.

“Kemi!” Chika shouted.

“Put it down,” their father barked, but his voice had already lost its edge.

Kemi’s hand shook only once before it steadied. Tears streamed down her face now, but her eyes were wild and certain.

“If I do not marry Tunde Bello,” she said, “I will kill myself here.”

“Stop this nonsense.”

“I mean it.”

Chika took one careful step forward. “Kemi, calm down.”

“Don’t come near me.”

Mr. Obiora lifted both hands. “Put the knife down first.”

“No.”

“Say what you want.”

Kemi stared at him through tears. “Choose me.”

Mr. Obiora looked at her. Then at Chika.

And Chika knew.

She knew before he opened his mouth. Knew in the way only the child who has always made peace for others can know. He would give in. He always did when Kemi pushed far enough.

At last, he said quietly, “Fine. You will marry Tunde Bello.”

Kemi lowered the knife at once.

The room seemed to tilt.

Chika did not look at her father because she could not bear to see guilt dressed up as helplessness. She looked at Kemi instead.

“You win,” she said.

Kemi wiped her face and, with almost unbelievable pride, replied, “As I should.”