Episode 1
He was running as fast as his legs
could carry him, the house was
just ahead. He could see the lights
of the house, the curtains were
drawn, and the inhabitants of the
house were probably asleep, unaware of the terror about to be
visited on them. He was able to
get in front of the ivory painted
gate now, and he began shouting
on the top of his voice. “Help, Help, wake up” he yelled at
the top of his voice. But a shot
rang out, and he was still gazing
at the lit balcony of the house,
when he felt a pain rip through
him, he held his throat as blood spurted out of it. Before he fell to
the ground, he saw a young
woman come out to the balcony,
he wanted to warn her, but the
darkness enveloped him, and the
world blacked out… Twenty Years ago “Subhanallah! What am I going to
do now, my father will disown
me” Khadijat said aloud as she
looked at the food she had just
eaten and thrown up in the toilet
sink. For the past few days she had been throwing away her
food because the smell of food
made her feel queasy. But she
made sure she threw it away in
the central dustbin because if her
mother found out that, she was throwing away food, she would
become inquisitive and then her
secret would be out. But how long was she going to
hide it? She pondered as she
thought of her predicament.
Khadijat was the only daughter of
the Imam Hassan of the central
mosque in Oshogbo. The Imam had about seven sons, but they
were all grown-up and married,
with their families in different
cities. Khadijat was just 18 and
had just gotten admission into the
University. However she had begun to see the Christian boy,
Damilola, in the next flat. This was
unknown to her father, who
spent all his waking hours at the
mosque, and her mother, who
was up as early as 4am to buy drums of palm oil from the market
which she would sell at her shop
at wholesale prices. When Khadijat had missed her
monthly visitor, she had told
Damilola who had convinced that
perhaps her monthly visitor was
late this time. But something had
told Khadijat that the secret play she played with Damilola had
brought out result and landed
her in trouble. She waited a few
more weeks and when her
monthly visitor did not come, she
knew for sure that she was in trouble. She again, intimated
Damilola about the development,
and he had advised her to get a
pregnancy test home kit. But
even before Khadijat saw the two
red lines on the strip she had urinated on, she had known she
was pregnant. The cramps, the
tenderness in her breast and
even the queasiness had told her
that she was with child. Her world had crumbled when
Damilola had told her that he was
traveling to India to study
Medicine and cannot be
responsible for a child. “Besides, I am not the only one
you were sleeping with” he had
said to her that fateful evening
that she had told him she was
pregnant. Khadijat had slapped
him so hard across the face and had walked back to their flat. She
had stayed away from him for
days, hoping that he would come
back to his senses. Had he not
said that he loved her, and was
ready to convert to Islam, for her sake? Then why would he say a
thing like that to her? Surely, he
would come back to his senses,
he is probably afraid of such a
huge responsibility, she made
excuses for him. But for days, Damilola did not
attempt to meet her, she did not
even see him at the balcony
where they usually met. So she
summoned courage and went to
his house to ask for him. There, she was given the shocker of her
life, Damilola had already traveled
out of the country. Damilola’s mother: “Are you
alright, you look pale” she asked,
looking at the young girl, with the
hijab covering her head. She
wondered though, what her son
was doing with the Muslim girl. She was beautiful for sure, but
her son would not dare have
anything to do with an
unbeliever. Khadijat: “I am alright ma’am” she
said and turned to go, but she
stopped and asked, “Is there any
way I can reach him, I really need
to talk to him” she said and this
time she could not stop the tears from spilling over. Damilola’s mother: “Oh no, what is
going on now?” she asked, with
her heart hammering in her chest
because, somehow she knew
even before Khadijat opened her
mouth to say anything. The young girl explained to this
Christian woman that she had an
affair with her son and now she
was pregnant. Khadijat had begged Damilola’s
mother not to tell her parents yet,
as she was not ready to break the
news to them. But she knew she
could not hide it forever, so she
decided it was time to open up and face the consequences. She
decided she would wait until her
father was back from the mosque
and her mother, from the market.
That evening, she went to the
next flat to tell Damilola’s mother that it was time to intimate her
parents about her pregnancy.
They were both talking by the
door when they heard a voice. “What did you say?” the voice
exclaimed. Both Khadijat and
Damilola’s mother turned and
saw Khadijat’s mother, standing
on the stair landing and gaping at
them. She had obviously heard all that her daughter was saying to
Damilola’s mother. Damilola’s mother: “Neighbor,
take it easy. It is only pregnancy,
nobody died” she said Khadijat’s mother: “Khadijat, you
have killed me, you have finally
destroyed us and brought shame
on us. You got yourself pregnant
for an infidel?” she cried as she
hurried up the remaining flight of stairs. She dragged her daughter,
into their flat and slammed the
door, despite Damilola’s mother’s
protests. Khadijat: “Mother, I am sorry,
please forgive me” she cried. Khadijat’s mother: “I thought you
were in the right path. I always
thanked Allah for giving me such
an obedient child who walked in
the ways of Islam. I used to pride
myself in the fact that you always wore your hijab and never
missed any Salat. Is this what you
were really doing, allowing an
infidel defile you?” her mother
cried, her voice choked with so
much emotions. Khadijat: “I am sorry mother, he
said he loved me” she cried along
with her mother. They were
oblivious of another presence in
the house, until he grabbed
Khadijat and flung her to the wall. Khadijat’s mother: “Alfa, she is
our only daughter, do not kill her
for me” she cried and rushed to
pick up her daughter. Imam: “How can you bring me so
much shame? You, who has been
an example to all the young
people in the mosque, Khadijat,
what will people say of an Imam
whose child got pregnant by a Christian!” he said and sat down,
holding his head between his
head. Khadijat’s mother: “She is a child,
who has been misled by that
infidel. We have to salvage the
situation” she pleaded, kneeling
before her husband. Imam: “There is no salvaging
anything; this abomination will
not stay in my house. Before I go
in and come out, I don’t want to
see Khadijat in this house, I
disown you!” he yelled and rushed into his room. Khadijat’s mother looked up to
the heavens, wishing that
solution would come. She knew
her husband was a hard man,
and when one of his brother’
daughters had gotten pregnant, he had advised his brother to
throw her out. She had thanked
God for giving her a daughter
who embraced Islam and walked
in the right path, so that she
would know no shame. How could she have known that,
despite all the outward
appearances, her Khadijat was
seeing not just any boy, but a
Christian boy? Khadijat: “Maami, please talk to
father, I don’t want to leave my
family. You are all I have now”
she cried, holding on to her
mother’s wrapper. Khadijat’s mother: “Your father
would soon be back, and I
cannot tell what he would do if
you are still here. Come, lets go to
the neighbor’s, you will stay there
until your father’s anger is quenched” she replied and took
her daughter by the hand. When they got to Damilola’s
house, Damilola’s mother
intimated Khadijat’s mother about
her son’s traveling, and that
Damilola would not be back until
he was done with his studies. Khadijat’s mother: “Khadijat, did
you tell Damilola about the
pregnancy?” her mother asked
.Khadijat nodded and her mother
shook her head. Don’t they teach
these Christians anything about responsibility, she wondered. Damilola’s mother: “My son is just
a boy and there was nothing he
could have done. Your daughter
can stay with me until she
delivers. After her delivery, she
can go on with her life, while I take care of my son’s child” Khadijat’s mother: “That child is
also my grandchild. Would you
just separate a mother from her
child?” Damilola’s mother: “I am not
saying so. Well, it is too early to
argue about this, we should think
of the girl’s welfare first” she
replied, looking pitifully at the
young Khadijat. Khadijat cried as her mother left
her in Damilola’s house, she
prayed that her father’s anger
would quench quickly so she
could go back to her family. She
thought of the life growing in her and sighed. She could not blame
the child for what was happening
to her because if she had
followed the precepts of Islam,
she would not be in this
predicament. For days, her elder brothers came and begged her
father to pardon Khadijat and
bring her back to the house, but
the Imam refused, and even
threatened to send their mother
packing. The only way he would accept Khadijat back was if she
was no longer carrying an
infidel’s child. Khadijat decided to take matters
into her hands to right the wrong
that she had done, there was
something she could still do. She
took out her small cell phone and
called her best friend, Halima.
.
.
.
.
What do you advise
Khadijat to do, should she abort
the child and restore peace to her
family, or should she face
whatsoever life throws at her
consequent of her pregnancy?
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