Happy Holidays 🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊

"Onikede?" 

Amina quickly covered the chocolate she had unwrapped with the pillow that was on her lap, not caring if it stained the case or not. 

"Ma?" She called out as she walked to the door and pulled it open for her mother to walk in. "Good Evening, Maami." Her mother walked in the beige and navy blue decorated room and sniffed the air. 

"Onikede. You can't go on like this, you're eating junk as a plug to your pain, you can't go on like this. It's been three months. Three whole months and you won't even eat good food?" Amina looked away but walked back to the bed, taking the white cased pillow off the chocolate she had unwrapped earlier and bit into it. 

"But I'm speaking to you, aren't I?" Amina pursed her lips and stopped chewing. Swallowing carefully before facing her mother. 

"I've only gained fifteen kilograms. I don't need anyone's advice on my body, I'll do whatever I want.  And I'll be fine. I'm mourning my son, you cannot be counting how long I should mourn him for." Her mother hurriedly shook her head, briskly walking to her. She watched her mother pick up one of her fluffy pillows and put it between her hands and lap, finding comfort, which meant her mother planned this visit. 

"O ti o. That's not true, I'm not telling you how to mourn your child. Wallah. He was yours, you gave birth to him, you nurtured him, you in your own heart loved him like no man's business. It's your business how you mourn him, but it's my business as your mother to see that you don't lose yourself while doing that." Her voice had gone soft at the end and Amina stopped chewing on the chocolate. She put it down on the beside table and chugged down some water from the water bottle she made for herself as a gift after AbdulKareem was born. 

"I don't know what to do. I wake up each morning, hoping to see him next to me again, hoping to smell him again. I want it all to be a lie. But I can't get my dream because-" She choked and let the tears that clogged her throat flow down her now chubbier cheeks, she wiped her eyes with a paper towel and stopped speaking. Folding her hands over her laps again. 

"I want to say one thing, can I speak? From a mother, to another mother?" Amina nodded very quickly. 

"Good. You lost a child, I lost a grandchild. I'm not comparing our pain, but you must know that you cannot grieve alone. Staying here all alone will let your mind be a breeding place for thoughts, thoughts that should not even be there.

Have you thought of what you want to do after this?" Amina looked away at the question. It was the very question she feared the most, she had no idea what to do because, asides teaching children, she really didn't acquire any other skills and moving forward from anything was hard for her. 

"I honestly do not know. I'm still in shock. I still feel like I can't breathe sometimes, I still want to stay in bed and watch all the videos I made of AbdulKareem." Her mother nodded and Amina loved that her mother listened. Her mother really always listened, she never feigned listening. 

"I also want to get up and achieve many things, I want to go back to work, to finally go get my things from Kassim's house and be done withe everything, I also want to loose this weight." She touched her now flabby belly, putting each hand over another again calmly. 

"Do you want to move to Abuja? Your brother says he can let you stay in his BQ. You just get do whatever you want without worrying his wife." Amina shook her head rapidly at her mom's statement. She could not. She did not want to move in with anyone.

"Can I not move in with anyone?" She considered the idea a bit, it would mean she would have to be nice, smile when she didn't even want to, do a host of things she didn't want.

"Amina." Her mother sighed as she answered.  "Your brother means well, everyone wants to see you smile again and they'll do anything for that to happen." Amina could hear how her mother had deflected the topic of her living alone and she nodded perceptibly, she didn't intend to push her luck too much too. Staying in the side house was enough, she didn't have to stay in the main house with her brother's family and inconvenience his wife. 

"I'll move." Her mother happily nodded and smiled sunnily as she slid her dainty feet into her marvel flip flops and shuffled out of the room. 

Amina flopped back on her bed in wonder, one minute she was peacefully watching a show on an online streaming platform and the next minute, off and agreeing to move to Abuja. She could barely keep up. 

***

*

"Here. This is card to an account that has some money in it. Use it to do whatever you need done before you get a job there." Amina took the card and genuflected slightly towards her father in thanks for the money, her father's 'some' was usually a lot and she was just plainly grateful to Allah for the parents He gave her. 

"I-" She stopped speaking because she had absolutely nothing to say asides thanks. She would make no promises about her mental health, she would also make no promises about her physical health. She would only take each day too at a time. 

"Don't work yourself up trying to overdo anything. You're doing an amazing job just waking up each day and getting out of bed, I am in awe of your strength. So, keep doing that." Tears stung her eyes again and she made sure to hold them back, to make sure they didn't drop. 

"I'll do my best Báami." Her father nodded stiffly and she leaned over him to kiss his forehead, it was a habit she had developed overtime when she found out her father loved when she kissed his forehead. 

As she was about to turn away, he held her upper arm firmly and looked into her eyes, with a gruff voice, he said. "Be good, Onikede." Amina nodded again, not knowing what else to say but filled with emotions that would fill a basket. 

That day, she began to pack her bags. The next day, her father handed her a first class ticket to Abuja, she wanted to use the train from Ibadan but found out the route wasn't functional yet. 

Three days later, while packing her bags, her mother came in pulling a suitcase that was half as tall as she was. Amina turned to her in surprise, watching as her mother pulled the heavy looking suitcase onto the bed and unzipped it. Different laces, Ankara, chiffon fabric sewn into beautiful styles came into Amina's sight and she turned to her mother in more amazement. 

"When did you have these made?" Her mother waved her hands in the air like she always did when Amina didn't say thanks first but questioned the thought behind the gift. 

"Learn to say Thank you, say a prayer for the one who gave the gift. Period. No need to ask me questions." She plopped down on Amina's bed, pulling one of the pillows to wedge between her back and the headboard. 

"Eshe ma. Thank you." She genuflected slightly, knowing a pillow could hit her if she didn't say her thanks quickly. 

"You're welcome." Her mother nodded in swell happiness, patted the pillow and leaned backwards to push the remote of the television in Amina's room to herself. While Amina folded her clothes and packed her bags, her mother watched a faith based television station, listening raptly as a sheikha talked about some people termed divorce as a loss that should be hidden like a shame, she went on to say that Allah gave the Talaq to women as part of their rights, not for anyone to make them feel as though leaving an abusive marriage was something to be ashamed of. 

"You see? You see why I said you shouldn't be so sad?" Amina turned to her mother with a sigh, from the moment she heard the sheikha talk about divorces, she knew her mother was listening with rapt attention on her behalf. 

"Asides the fact that we lost AbdulKareem, May Allah rest his soul, there is nothing to be ashamed about leaving a relationship where that Kassim was treating you like trash. Your father and I raised you like a princess, then he turned your self esteem to dust all in the name of wanting some deliquent submission. I've left him to Allah, that is all I have to say." Just as her mother finished speaking, the television went off, leaving the room in eerie silence. 

"They cut the electricity, let me tell Mukaila not to turn on the inverter until after Maghrib, I doubt there will be light later." She retied her wrapper and after placing the pillows where she found them, she briskly walked out of the room, leaving behind the scent of oud and freshly laundered clothes. 

Amina let herself slide to the floor in front of her largest suitcase that had become at least halfway full because of the new clothes her mother brought and wondered what she should do. 

It was already close to the beginning of second terms in most schools and there was no way she was getting a job so easily from schools she would like to teach in, now she would have to make do. She thought of a stable income and realizing that her father had given her enough to last till she could stand on her feet, she leaned back on the stack of drawers and picked up her phone. 

She typed out a list of things she wanted to get done before the year ended, adding plenty of In Sha Allahs to each goal that she added a checkbox to. 

If only she knew what plans Allah had in store for her.

*****
Hey people 😺

This is my Eid gift to y'all. Have an amazing holiday. Eid Mubarak everyone 🎉🎉🎉🎉

See y'all soon.

TheOmoope 💙😊