EPISODE 2
Halima was the child nobody
wanted their child to associate
with. She was a Muslim, but she
had gotten out of control of her
parents. Her father was an Alhaji
who was more concerned with making money than whether his
daughter was walking in the path
of Islam. Her mother had a big
fabric shop in Ayegbaju
International market, where she
sold imported fabrics which she imported from Dubai and all
around the world. So, Halima
went out with aristocratic men,
for her, it was not about the
money, but about the domination
of these men in bed, and the class. Halima was just 18, but she
had the body of a grown woman
with luscious hips and ample
buttocks, her fair skin glowed
and her eyes which were always
coated with Kohl, held Nubian promises. Aside her physique,
Halima had also aborted so many
pregnancies, that girls her age
could not have done. When Khadijat started crushing
on Damilola, it was Halima she
told. Halima advised her to go
after Damilola, but Khadijat was a
reserved girl and even she knew
that Halima’s ways were not pure. But when Damilola began to
pursue her, he was too charming
to resist and she threw caution to
the wind. Again, when Damilola
asked that they consummated
their love, it was Halima, Khadijat went to, and asked for advice.
Halima advised Khadijat to give in
to Damilola, that if she didn’t,
another girl was going to give it
to him and he would leave her.
Khadijat, afraid to lose her new found love, gave in to Damilola,
and here she was. She had told Halima when she
first found out she was pregnant,
the latter told her not to tell her
boyfriend, Damilola, for he would
look at her as a girl who could
not take care of herself. She advised her to abort the
pregnancy, but Khadijat was too
afraid to do an abortion and she
had chosen to tell Damilola. But
now that things had become
worse, she had no other option but to abort the pregnancy, and
restore peace to her family. So,
she called Halima. Halima: “I told you, telling him
was not the right option,
everyone knows you are
pregnant now. Anyways, it is not
too late, meet me at Shoprite, I will
take you to my abortion doctor” she said when Khadijat called. When Khadijat got to Shoprite,
she was still sure she wanted to
abort the pregnancy, so she went
with Halima to the clinic where
she told her was where she did all
her abortions. But when they got to the clinic, Khadijat looked on,
with horror, at the young girls
lined up, some coming out of the
inner consulting room with pain
on their faces. She sat down with
them and looked on with confused eyes, as Halima booked
her for a D and C. She told herself
she was doing this for the love of
family, she was so sure that if she
aborted the pregnancy, her family
would be whole again, and things would go back to the way
it used to be. But no one told her
that, even if she aborted the
pregnancy, the deed was done
and her father would never see
her as he saw her before. Her name was called and she
walked tentatively to the inner
room, while her friend, Halima
smiled at her encouragingly.
Halima was smiling at her phone
and tapping away in a chat with one of her lovers when Khadijat
ran out of the inner room,
screaming on top of her lungs. Khadijat: “I can’t” she cried. Halima: “What do you mean you
cannot?” she asked, turning
around abruptly, twirling her
long Brazilian weave. Khadijat: “The prodding with
metal objects, inside me. I am
practically still a virgin, I did it just
once. There is no way that metal
will enter my body without
destroying something” she cried. Halima: “Stupid girl, you are no
longer a virgin, you are pregnant,
and if you don’t go in there, this
pregnancy will destroy your life
and family” she yelled, hoping
she could yell ‘sense’ into Khadijat’s head. Khadijat: “I will not do this” she
said vehemently and walked out
on her friend, who shook her
head sadly and followed her. Halima followed Khadijat home,
hoping that she would be able to
convince her friend to heed her
advice, but the latter was
adamant, and too scared to ever
consider abortion again. When she had entered the inner room,
the first thing she had seen was
the bucket full of blood and
obviously foetal elements. Then
she had seen the different
scalpels, and knew that they would go into her body,
destroying the developing foetus
and probably her womb. In
horror, she had run out of the
room, and there was nothing
Halima could tell her that would make her go back there or
anywhere else for abortion. The two girls were still talking
when Khadijat’s mother walked
up to them. Khadijat’s mother: “So Khadijat,
this Omo ale is your friend? This
girl that is the reject of our society
is your friend. Why then am I
surprised that you got pregnant?
Ha, Khadijat you have made me the laughing stock of the society,
you were not what I thought you
to be” she said and burst into
tears. Khadijat: “Mother, I am so sorry.
Forgive me mother. I am so
confused right now” she cried
and rushed into her mother’s
arms. Despite her mother’s push,
she clung to her mother. Khadijat: “Help me mother, I don’t
want to do an abortion and I
want our family to be whole
again” Khadijat’s mother: “Oh my Khadi,
you naïve little girl. Don’t you
know that, no matter what you
do, our family will never be whole
again? Your father put so much
trust in you, it is the reason he sent you to school, to prove to
everyone that female children are
worth something too. Look now,
you disappointed him, nothing
can ever be the same” she said as
she stroked her daughter’s hair. They were in front of the house,
and Damilola’s mother watched
them from the balcony. She
shook her head at the pitiful
sight. If only girls would be wise,
they let themselves go and have fun with a man, but they were the
ones who bare the pain and
shame of that fun. Her son was
there in India, while the girl he
had impregnated was here in
Oshogbo, suffering the consequences. She decided right
then that she would not let the
girl’s life be destroyed because of
one mistake. She hurried
downstairs to meet them. Damilola’s mother: “Khadijat’s
mother, please, let me send
Khadijat to my sister in Lagos. If
she continues to stay here, she
would go through some much
emotional trauma After delivery, she can fight for another
admission into school. She is still
young and has her life ahead of
her. Let us join hands and make
sure that this one mistake does
not destroy her life” she said soberly. Khadijat’s mother saw a kindness
she had not seen before in most
Christians she knew, in the
woman’s eyes she saw a genuine
concern for Khadijat’s well being. Khadijat’s mother: “Thank you,
thank you very much. Perhaps it
is Allah’s will, that our families be
joined together by a child” she
said and embraced the other
woman. The Imam stayed away from his
home as much as he could, and
his wife concentrated on her
business. She was galvanized by
the fact that her daughter was in
good hands. She hoped that with time, her husband, the Imam,
would come to accept things as
they were. But she was soon to
find out that, her husband was
not ever going to accept things, in
fact, he was going to take care of the cause of all the trouble. Khadijat wished that Damilola
would call her even for once, she
knew that his mother had called
him, but yet he had refused to call
her. Did he even care for her at all,
or had she just been someone he could manipulate. She wiped the
tear that threatened to fall, and
summoned courage. She had
made a vow not to cry anymore,
as God had been good to her to
give her a second mother in Damilola’s mother. “Did you think I was going to
allow you destroy the name I
have worked years to build?” she
heard the voice, and knew who it
belonged to, even before she
turned. She turned, with fear on her face
and stared at her father. The
Imam was as angry as the first
day he had heard about the
pregnancy. He even looked more
ferocious, but what was more frightening, was the knife in his
hand.
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