THE CREAM THAT STOLE MY GLOW

I saw my husband rubbing my N50,000 body cream on a live goat in our backyard at 2:00 AM.

“Jesus!” I covered my mouth to stop the scream from escaping. “Am I dreaming?” I asked myself, pinching my arm.

But I wasn’t dreaming.

Before I tell you what happened next, you need to understand how perfect my life seemed to be.

My name is Chidinma. I married Obinna two years ago.

Obinna was the kind of man every woman prayed for. He was tall, handsome, and very wealthy. He treated me like an egg. He never let me cook. We had a chef. He never let me clean. We had cleaners.

Anything I pointed at, Obinna paid for it immediately.

But there was one thing Obinna was obsessed with. My skin.

“Baby, you must always glow,” he would say, buying me this specific, very expensive organic cream from a special vendor in Port Harcourt.

He insisted I use ONLY that cream. He would even wake up at night to massage my back with it.

“I have the best husband in the world,” I always told my friends. They were jealous.

But three months ago, things started changing.

Obinna became richer. He bought a G Wagon. He bought a house in Banana Island.

But as his money increased, my skin started drying up.

I started looking like an old woman. My skin was peeling. I went to dermatologists. They gave me drugs. Nothing worked.

“Don’t worry baby, just keep using the cream, it will clear,” Obinna told me soothingly last week.

I believed him. Until last night.

I woke up around 2:00 AM because I was thirsty. The AC had made my throat dry.

I turned to tap Obinna to help me get water. Yes, he spoils me like that. But the bed was empty.

I thought he was in the toilet. But the toilet door was open.

I walked downstairs, thinking he was in the kitchen.

That was when I heard the low murmuring sounds coming from the backyard.

I tip-toed to the kitchen window and peered through the curtains.

My bl00d turned into ice.

Obinna was standing there, stark n@k3d.

In front of him was a black goat tied to a stake.

And in his hand was MY cream container. The one he bought for me two days ago.

He was scooping the cream and rubbing it aggressively on the goat’s body.

As he rubbed it, he was chanting.

“As she dries, let my pockets rise. As her beauty fades, let my millions upgrade. She is the sacrifice that breathes.”

I felt my legs shaking. I held onto the sink so I wouldn’t collapse.

So this is it?

I am the sacrifice?

Every time I rubbed that cream, I was selling my destiny to buy him cars?

The goat bleated, and Obinna slapped it. “Quiet! Take the glory!” he shouted at the animal.

I watched in horror as the goat’s fur began to shine. It was glowing exactly how my skin used to glow.

Tears rolled down my eyes.

My husband wasn't using me for rituals to k!ll me. He was harvesting my glory to feed a goat that gives him money.

I wanted to run. I wanted to scream.

But then, I made a mistake.

In my shock, I took a step back and knocked over a glass cup on the kitchen counter.

GBAM!

The sound shattered the silence of the night.

Obinna stopped chanting.

He turned his head slowly towards the window. His eyes were red. He saw me.

I froze.

He didn't panic. He didn't run.

He simply smiled. A cold, wicked smile that I had never seen before.

He picked up the cream container, wiped his hands on the goat, and started walking towards the back door.

I ran to the front door, trying to open it.

LOCKED.

I tried the key. It wouldn't turn.

“Chidinma,” his voice came from behind me. It was calm. Too calm.

I turned around, shaking.

He was standing there, holding the cream.

“Why are you running, my love?” he asked, stepping closer. “It’s almost morning. You haven’t used your cream yet. You know I don’t like it when your skin is dry.”

He opened the container.

The smell of the cream filled the room. It smelled like sulfur and rotten eggs mixed with perfume.

“Come here,” he commanded.

“Obinna please…” I begged, backing away until my back hit the wall.

“I said come here!” he roared, his face turning into something that was not human.

He grabbed my arm with a grip of steel. He forced my hand into the jar of cream.

“Rub it!” he screamed. “If you don't rub it, both of us will d!e tonight! Do you think this wealth is free?!”

I looked at him. Then I looked at the cream.

I realized that if I didn't rub it, the spirit he was serving might take his life. And maybe mine too.

But if I rubbed it, I would continue to wither away while he bought more cars.

I dipped my hand into the cream.

And then I did something he didn't expect.

Brothers and sisters, be careful who you call "God sent". Not everything that glitters is gold.

Chidinma stood frozen, her fingers buried in the cold, greasy cream.

Obinna’s grip tightened around her wrist.

“Rub it,” he hissed again, his breath hot and rotten. “Do you think Banana Island fell from heaven?”

The goat bleated loudly from the backyard, as if protesting.

That sound did something to her.

In that moment, clarity hit her like thunder.

All this time, she had been living comfortably while slowly dying.

All this time, her glow, her joy, her destiny had been redirected to an animal… to a demon… to a lie.

She looked Obinna straight in the eyes.

And she laughed.

A loud, broken laugh.

“Obinna,” she said softly, “you made one mistake.”

His brows furrowed. “What nonsense are you saying?”

“You made me your sacrifice,” she continued, “but you forgot something.”

She raised the hand holding the cream.

“I am still alive.”

Before he could react, Chidinma flung the entire jar of cream straight into his face.

Obinna screamed.

Not a normal scream.

A scream that shook the walls.

The lights flickered violently. The house trembled. The goat outside let out a deafening cry, snapped its rope, and collapsed dead.

Obinna staggered backward, clawing at his skin as smoke began to rise from his body.

“You fool!” he shouted. “Do you know what you’ve done?!”

“Yes,” Chidinma replied, her voice steady now. “I ended it.”

The smell of sulfur grew stronger. The room darkened unnaturally.

From the corner of the living room, a shadow formed tall, formless, breathing.

A voice followed. Deep. Angry.

“THE COVENANT IS BROKEN.”

Obinna dropped to his knees.

“No! I gave you everything!” he cried. “Her beauty! Her glow! Her destiny!”

“YOU FAILED TO PROTECT THE VESSEL,” the voice thundered.

Chidinma felt a sudden heat rush through her body not pain, but life.

Her skin tingled.

Her peeling stopped.

Her reflection in the glass door caught her eye.

She was glowing again.

But this time, it felt different.

Natural. Whole. Hers.

The shadow lunged forward.

Obinna screamed one last time before his body went stiff and collapsed lifeless, eyes wide open in terror.

Then silence.

Just like that… it was over.

THE MORNING AFTER

The police said Obinna died of a “sudden cardiac arrest.”

The doctors said Chidinma’s skin condition “miraculously reversed.”

No one asked about the goat.

No one asked why all of Obinna’s money began to disappear accounts frozen, properties seized, businesses collapsing overnight.

Wealth gotten through blood never stays.

Three months later, Chidinma moved out of the mansion.

She sold what she could.

She started small again.

A skincare brand but this time, clean, honest, and natural.

She named it “GlowBack.”

Women loved her story, even though she never told the full truth.

Sometimes, at night, she still wakes up sweating.

Sometimes, when she smells rotten perfume, her heart skips.

But she is free.

And glowing.

Not because of a cream.

But because her destiny is finally hers again.

FINAL WORD

Brothers and sisters…

Be careful who pampers you too much.

Be careful who controls what you use.

Be careful who benefits when you are slowly fading.

Not everything that glitters is gold.

Some shine is stolen.

And sometimes…

the price of luxury is YOU.