Chapter 8

145 20 1
                                    

Lagos -

4:00 a.m

Hajia Zainab stared at the green vein that speared through her wrist like thick roots. She took out a new razor blade and cut the vein in her right wrist. Fresh blood bursted out which made her pass out immediately. Dad and Ibro rushed her to the hospital while Danlami stayed at home. She got admitted and the doctor said she might need a psychiatrist.


In Abuja-

5:00 a.m.

I couldn't sleep. I kept dreaming. Dreaming, my mum was in pain about the incident of being lost in a forest or even losing my babies through the operation. I keep having different nightmares, but I keep on praying as well.

I woke up from the dreadful scene, still playing in my head. I lazily walked into the bathroom to ablute as I made my usual dua' (supplications) after Subhi prayer.

It's not like I'm dreaming of any of these for the first time. Just awake, the scenes playback and reiterate through my mind. It even makes me lose concentration. Thinking about it; In the five months and two weeks I've been living with the Akereles, I've unintentionally burnt the food I was cooking thrice, mistakenly broken two dozen ceramics, burnt three of their most expensive clothes while pressing things making me feel even more miserable. It's as if what Dad said about me having an unfortunate destiny was true.

It made me think about how my beautiful family was before the devil came and destroyed it. How he snatched them away from me, making me look like the devil himself. I became an outcast. Whatever...

I miss Mum. I hope everything is fine with her. Sure, they would have discharged her from the hospital by now. I hope she'll come to visit me soon or call at least. As for now, I would try to call them, but I must hear from Dunni first. It seems I wrote her mum's phone number on the back of my essential biology textbook, or in my diary. Well, I and Dunni don't own a phone yet. It just appears that sometimes, memories are the best form of torture.

It was a Sunday morning, so we prepared for Assalatu and left home around 9:00 a.m. That day, I told my story to all the people present in the mosque to stop their curiosity and unnecessary questions and suspicions. I took a request from the imam and he granted it.

"Assalam 'Alaikum wa Rahmatullah..." I greeted the congregation.

"Wa'alaikum sallam, wa Rahmatullah." They replied to me, respectively.

"Today, I've decided to tell everyone about myself. There have been questions and suspicions and I want this family to know who I am. The last months they welcomed the name d I've been treated like a daughter by every member and I'm so grateful for that. As they say:

"No amount of guilt can change the past, and no amount of anxiety can change the future. I had a very terrible past and I want to share my story so everyone would learn from it." I explained.
"My dad, Imam Hussain Akorede is the chief imam of Ajegunle's Central mosque, Lagos state. He and my elder brother, Ibrahim, went for our grandmother's final prayer in Ekiti state. It happened on the 13th of April this year, about 6 months ago. A gang of robbers intruded into our house, stealing and destroying anything they lay their hands on. It was a terrible night that caused trauma for me and my family. About five of them raped me, and my mum got shot defending me. I woke up on the third day in the hospital and later on; the doctor confirmed that I was pregnant. My dad and some members of his mosque suggested I abort the pregnancy, but I disagreed because it was a sin. Because of this, my dad sent me parking out of his house with no place to go. No friend, no relative. There was no one to help me except Allah..."

I heard some women whispering 'Subhanallah!' as I spoke.

"That faithful day, Hajia Akerele who is my mum's friend, visited us. She took me in as her own and now I'm carrying a set of twins with a perforated womb. As it is, I might give birth through surgery and I need your prayers. Please, I urge every one of you to remember me in his or her prayers. I need to give birth without surgery and I hope my family that rejected me would accept me open-heartedly someday."

"Attakbir!" the imam muttered.

"Allahu Akbar!" The others replied in a chorus.

It surprised them with what they had just heard. They must have learned something from me, maybe.

The imam stood up and announced, as I went to take my seat.

"We sympathize with you and your family. In the same way, we understand what condition and circumstance you and your family had gone through and are still through... For this, I and the other alfas would recite the whole Qur'an and make supplications for the guidance and protection of you, your family, and your unborn babies. For those gossiping and lying about other people's affairs, hope you've gained one or two lessons from Miss Aisha Akorede. Her faith, truthfulness, and braveness are very rare among today's youth. Parents, encourage your children to stick to the Qur'an, follow the hadith and sunnah if the prophet (S.A.W)..." He persuaded.

***

Translations

Dua': Supplication

Essential Biology Text Book: A type of Nigerian biology textbook used in most secondary schools or high schools in Nigeria.

Attakbir!: Praise God.

Allahu Akbar!: God is Great

Alfa: Islamic Scholar

Fidau prayer: A conjugational or joint prayer done 40 days after the death of someone.

Subhanallah: Glory be to God.

***

Asallam/Hello everyone!

If you're Muslim, Yoruba, or an African... You're a reader or a writer. You can put down your username or the name of your book, if you want to promote it here, just in the comment box below or here...

All you have to do is to vote on this page and I'll dedicate this chapter to you or mention your book. So, what are you waiting for? Grab this opportunity, you could be the lucky one.







 So, what are you waiting for? Grab this opportunity, you could be the lucky one

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A Tale Of Justice Where stories live. Discover now