Six: Do Good Girls Tell Lies

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I can’t get Aliyah out of my head. I even dreamt of her in my afternoon nap, screaming out my name as that uncle of hers laughed like the clown from that scary IT movie that Brianna dared me to watch.

Even now, as mommy is gisting me about the new girl she hired at aunty Meena’s shop, I’m still thinking of Aliyah and wondering if she’s okay. I hope she is. I hop-

“Ke!” Mommy calls, as a clapping sound follow, startling me. I turn away from the kitchen sink, blinking. “Are you okay?” She asks, frowning.

“Yes,” I say, and then turn back to the sink. It’s empty, except for the suds covering the drainage. I grab a soft towel from the window opposite me and begin cleaning.

“Is it school?” Mommy asks behind me. I shake my head. She sighs. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

I stop. Should I tell her? I turn. She’s already facing the pot on the gas cooker. I think I can trust her. There’s no one else. “Mommy?” I call, moving away from the sink. She turns around, spatula in hand.

“I have a question.” I say, folding my hands. She nods. I look down at the tiles, take a deep breath, “my friend is in trouble.”

Her eyes widen, “Brianna?”

I frown, “no, em, her friend.” I shake my head. Why am I lying? But I go on anyway. “She told me that she thinks her friend is in trouble. She saw…” I try to recall that uncle’s face, “somebody hurting her.” I finish, watching mommy’s face, hoping she would believe my lie.

“Okay, so where did she see it? And how is she sure the person is hurting her?”

I gasp. Of course that uncle was hurting her. I knew what I saw. “I…she…” I shake my head, “it was in the school park. She saw the man. He looked scary.” Does that even make sense? I don’t know anymore.

Mommy stands before me, folding her arms, “okay, so, let me understand this, is it that she saw the man hurting her friend or she thinks he’s hurting her because of how scary he looks?”

I swallow. “She was scared of him,” I say, “very scared. What can I do to help? I want to help.” I say, my throat closing up, although I don’t want to cry. I’m not a baby anymore.

Mommy places her hands on my shoulders and draws me closer. “It’s okay.” I sigh in relief. Talking about it feels good. I feel much better.

 I pull away, “what do we do?”

Mommy looks into the distance. “I think…” She looks down at me, “you need more proof.” I frown, taking a step back. “Wait now.” She says, smiling. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, but even if we tell someone, like her mother, I’m sure she will need proof from the girl. The girl has to admit that it’s true. What Brianna saw is not enough.”

I fold my arms. Is that so? So Aliyah will have to say it out loud. But I know she won’t. “But what if she refuses? What if she’s too afraid?”

“Then we find another way.” She says. I nod. That makes more sense. All I need to do is confirm that Aliyah needs help. But how? Mommy grabs me for a hug again. “Don’t worry, if anything goes wrong, just tell me, okay?” I nod.

An idea pops up, but first, “mommy, did you know that aunty Rose has gotten married?”

She scrunches her face in thought. “No, when?”

“I don’t know. Aliyah told me today.”

She shakes her head, then widens her eyes. “Oh, no wonder I saw one big truck yesterday with furniture inside.”

I nod, “they have packed out.”

“Tohh,” she stands akimbo. “I had no idea. I haven’t seen them since we returned from Kano. Anyways, good for her.”

I open my mouth to say it’s not good for her at all, especially Aliyah, but then I remember my lie. So I nod. “Can I go and visit her tomorrow, after school?”

Mommy frowns, “why? Did she invite you?”

I want to say no. But that will ruin my plans. So I say yes instead.

“And does her mother know?”

No. “She said she will tell her. Their house is not far.” Mommy watches me carefully. “You can call and tell her if you want.”

“Good idea. But who will bring you back?”

I groan, “Mommy, I’m not Hoor, I know how to enter a bus.”

“I know, but you can’t be too careful. Ehen, I have a better idea.” I frown. “Once you’re ready to leave her house, let Rose call me so I can send Salome to come and pick you.”

I hit my feet on the ground, “mommy…”

“Unless you don’t want to go again.” She shakes her head with warning in her eyes.

 “Okay.” What other choice do I have?

“Good girl.” She pats my head. I wince.

Do good girls tell lies?

 
•••
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