Our class teacher then, Aunty Onome, as we called her was very kind, Rumour had it that she had been married for nine years without having a child.
It was hard to believe because I grew up believing that people who get married and can't bear children were usually bitter, especially towards the children of other people.
You can't blame me, I grew up watching a lot of terrible home videos, but Aunty Onome was in school every day, teaching and playing with us.
I noticed how she would carry the babies of other teachers and keep them in our class when they fell asleep. She would ask us questions and make a promise to us, that who got it correctly would get a pack of fruit juice and doughnuts.
I remember how she would get us sweets and balloons during Christmas and help us decorate our classroom. She never appeared like one who had a problem or simply put, one who was barren.
Then I observed that there was a car that usually dropped her off at school and the same car would come to pick her after school. So, we believed then that she was rich, and though maybe the driver of the car was her driver.
There was a period we didn't see her in school for about a month, we were told by the principal that she went on sick leave, even if we didn't quite understand then, we prayed hoped, and wished she came back soon because we missed her already.
We missed her stories. We missed her kind gestures.
One month later, she returned, and I observed they she had gotten lean, not too long later that month, we heard rumors again that she had gotten pregnant but had a miscarriage, and that was the third time.
In my mind then, I couldn't fathom what it meant for someone to have a miscarriage. All I wanted and hoped for was for her to be back fully, she had this charisma that got everyone loving her.
A year later, we saw Aunty Onome with a big stomach, she was always resting and tired. The man that drove her to and fro school began to come more frequently.
We later got to know he was her husband and they had been married for eleven years, and that the nine years we heard was merely untrue.
I saw how the other teachers were happy for her. I saw that her smiles were different, she looked happier.
The baby in her belly wasn't another Abiku.
When she gave birth, a day was declared free for her students to go and celebrate with her.
When we got to her house, we asked the security guards where Aunty Onome lives, they told us we were at the right place, we didn't believe them.
Why would she be living in a castle? In a place that looked like a pristine chapel only benefiting kings and princes.
It turned out her husband was a highly placed man in the society who was very humble. Her welcome speech that day would reveal all we never knew about her and her husband.
We listened to her praise her husband.
His people had suggested to him to get a new wife after she couldn't bear children, but his husband said no. It got to a point when she even suggested that he got someone pregnant and he still said no.
The husband loved her to a fault. He had all the money in the world to live whatever kind of life he wanted, but he loved his wife and was patient with her.
It was then, I began to wonder if there were men like that still out there, he never cheated, and never changed in any way, she said there was a time she felt so loved that she got scared.
When the man came in from the inner chambers, carrying drinks and food, he didn't look like the man described, no, not looks, he was very handsome and would have any woman bowing and trembling at his feet.
To us, he didn't look like the man described as takes about according to societal standards.
We were wrong.
Aunty Onome told us that every time she smiled or exuded love and affection towards anyone that her husband was responsible.
He was supportive, loving, caring, faithful, loyal, and understanding, he didn't have to possess all that qualities, but he did.
Today I know.
There are still men out there.
Chivalry is still alive.