“Old woman, move out of my way! Can’t you see I’m pregnant?”
“You will carry that child beyond time. You will feel labor, but birth will not come easily.”
Rebecca was proud of her pregnancy. This was her first child after four years of marriage, and she carried her large belly like a trophy. Everywhere she went, people noticed her. Neighbors smiled at her. Women greeted her with respect.
Rebecca had always believed her pregnancy made her special.
At eight months pregnant, she walked through the village as though the world owed her respect. People should make way for her. People should understand her moods. That was how she saw it.
That morning, the sun was already hot. Rebecca stood by a pepper seller, arguing over the price.
“Why is pepper so expensive today?” she asked rudely.
“Madam, everything has gone up,” the seller replied calmly.
Rebecca hissed and turned away.
That hot afternoon, Rebecca was returning from the market. Sweat rolled down her face, and her legs ached badly. She had argued with a trader over tomatoes, and the anger was still burning in her chest.
As she approached a narrow bush path near her house, an old woman suddenly crossed her way. The woman was bent, weak, and slow. She accidentally brushed Rebecca’s arm.
“Sorry, my daughter,” the old woman said softly.
But Rebecca was already angry.
“Madam, move now,” she said impatiently. “Can’t you see I’m pregnant?”
The old woman turned slowly and looked at Rebecca.
“My daughter,” the woman said calmly, “please slow down. You almost hit me too.”
That was when Rebecca snapped.
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