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"Halimatu Sadiyya Aliyu. What a surprise."

Halima sighed and played with her fingers. Her emotions were all over the place. She had been restless since the announcement of her engagement to Jamal. She played with the pink princess cut diamond that served as her engagement ring.

"Hello." She timidly said to the dark skinned shapely woman who had served as her therapist in the darkest moments of her life.

"How are you?" Halima watched her walk the one eighty degree movement that would seat her in front of Halima.

"I'm fine?" The lady frowned. Then she tilted her head in question. The question was what kept Halima awake for days.

"Will I ever be truly happy?" Her therapist shifted to makw herself more comfortable. Halima had come with a million dollar question.

"What do you think? Why do you ask?" Halima sighed and looked out of the window to see the the psychiatrist hospital two blocks away. She tried to answer her therapist, she looked for words to explain how she felt. She found none.

After the incident when she came to see Dr Ngozi for the first time, she had prayed that she be put in the psychiatrist hospital to escape the pain she was going through at the time. It took hard work from the therapist, her mother and the doctors at the hospital for her to get better and she acknowledged their help, she thanked them everyday.

"I am getting married." Ngozi smiled fondly at Halima. She had seen pictures of Summayah and Halima a few days back with Jamal Abubakar's kids. She knew.

"I know." Halima swallowed noisily but she didn't speak.

"Why do you think you'd never be happy? Some would count being with JA as being happy." Ngozi said firmly. Halima smiled, remembering Jamal.

"Im scared. I'm worried. I'm overwhelmed. It still rankles that a victim of gang-rape could still do greater things." Ngozi clasped her hands at Halima's words.

"I want you to list your greater things." Halima laughed and brought out her left hand from the folds of the dress she was wearing.

"I'm a survivor, I can discuss with men without fainting or going into a shock, I opened a business, I found strength in the marriage i was in, I didn't kill myself inspite of the many times I thought of it.  I find food no longer something i have to beg for, I can walk the streets without feeling faint due to the clash of scents. So, Alhamdulillahi." Ngozi sighed and leaned forward.

"So, why are you worried?" She asked Halima.

"My worries are many, I worry for myself, that i might not be able to love Jamal the way I should. I worry, that I'd not be able to sufficiently raise his kids and ours, I worry that when he finds out he'll be a different man. I worry that life may hit me harder than I thought." Ngozi nodded at Halima. She was finally seeing the scheme of things.

"Have you made up you mind to tell him?" Halima goggled at Ngozi's question. Tell Jamal?

"How can I tell him such an ugly thing, imagine putting myself through the pain of talking about it again. I don't see myself doing it." They sighed almost at the same time.

"By the way, the reason I came was, i found out Salisu's mother has been telling all those who wish to hear that I sold myself to three men. And yeah, she told people I was raped, it didn't stop the judgemental stares or whispers. Ever since she found out about the engagement." Ngozi picked out a Kleenex box from her drawer and handed it to Halima. Tears had silently ran down her supple cheeks and they had turned red from her inner grief.

"Hausa people are so judgemental." Halima burst out angrily. She wiped the tear tracks angrily. She wss full of anger now.

"Halima, its not just Hausa people. People everywhere are judgemental. They'd rather find a way to bring it back to the victim than blame the wicked heart who planned and executed the evil. It's the way of the world and frankly unfair." Halima collapsed into more tears and Ngozi knew from experience that the session was over.

******

Halima stepped into the sun, crossed the road and entered the post office across the sky-rise where Ngozi's office was located.

She retrieved her package and called Jamal. They were supposed to go to Jariyah and Lubna's open day at school. She looked at her phone camera to see if there were any signs she cried. She saw none ans tested a smile, it came reluctantly, but came all the same.

"Hello, I'm done with what i went to do." Jamal replied her and she cut the call, ten minutes later, she was opening the door to his Mercedes Benz G-wagon.

"Assalamualaikum Halima." Halima hastily replied and strapped her seatbelt. He was sitting behind the driver and had a sheaf of papers in his hands. Halima looked him up and down and looked away hastily. The way his complexion looked against that stark white shirt was disconcerting, she nearly found it difficult to breathe and for someone whom she said she didn't really love, he was taking space in her heart and felling high walls.

"Why are you taking me? You could have easily gone." Jamal dropped the papers in the briefcase open in front seat.

"You're going to be her mother soon, i wanted you to see her again in that element, make it easier?" Halima smiled sardonically.

"You won't be available?" Jamal shook his head as the driver wound into the well tended garden car-park of the elite school.

"I will be. In Sha Allah. Stop looking at me dubiously, I'm only trying to figure out how to spend time with you here, don't make it harder for me." He replied, he arched his full brows at her. She nodded and stepped out the car, adjusting her hijab as she did.

"We'll go to Jariyah's class first." Halima nodded and walked behind him matching his fast strides and hoping she didn't look like a duck. Ever since  Hanny had said she was short and round, she had begun to feel self-conscious about her weight and height.

Jamal stopped walking and waited for her to heed his instruction, he motioned for her to walk beside him. "The corridor is big enough Halima. Walk beside me. Please." She sighed and occupied the space. They resumed walking and soon, they reached Jariyah's class. The class buzzed with quiet noise, the children were subdued. Perhaps the thought of all their transgressions out in the open for their parents cooled their enthusiasm.

Jariyah saw them but didn't blink, she just put her head back on her table. Halima smiled. Jariyah hesitantly smiled back.

"I'm Jamal Abubakar and this is Jariyah's… Umma." Halima turned to Jamal in surprise but he quelled her with a look.

"Welcome Ma and sir. I'm Diane Adegoke. Jariyah's form teacher." The heavy set beautiful lady shuffled papers on her tidy table and found a file that bore Jariyah's name.

"We'll start with her academic performance." Jamal sighed and shifted from where he was leaning on the wall. He had requelinshed the only seat in front of Diane to Halima.

"How is it?" Halima asked. Jariyah's teacher smiled. The smile was the joy of having a successful students.

"She's amazing at school work. We're very excited about her prowess. She's flying through hoops and making us proud." Halima sensed a but so she spoke up.

"The only but here Mrs Abubakar is, she has grown too intelligent for this class. Again." Halima sighed and flicked a glance at Jamal. His face was passive.

"What do you advise?" Halima asked, since it seemed Jamal would not.

"I advise she takes the common entrance exam for secondary school." That seemed to spur Jamal. "She's only seven?"  Diane nodded.

"It's never too early. She's already too restless to stay here. That i can assure you. Which opens my concerns about Jariyah." Halima sat properly. She anticipated this.

"Jariyah seems to be separate from them. Her classmates I mean. She doesn't talk to them, during breaks, her head is in an encyclopedia and her spoon in her plate of food. It's very disturbing. The school's counselor says she said that they too dumb for her liking." Jamal choked on laughter. Summayah was worse.

Halima laughed a bit at Jamal. She had known this part a long time ago. Jariyah was born to be different and it scared her to be her mother.

*******

Guys,

What do you all think? I hope y'all enjoyed it.

Have a beautiful week ahead.

TheOmoope.