A Weakness Called Love: Memoirs of an African Housemaid

CHAPTER 14: THE FATHER THAT STOOD HIS GROUND

Meanwhile preparations are being made for Hajara's wedding. She had not conceded and had not withdrawn the threat of suicide, but her father would not back down. The "Yayi"(anko, ashoebi, a cloth of the same kind worn by women during a ceremony ) was out and my mother bought me one. The wedding was the next day. The bride had been crying relentlessly, vowing to kill herself if the wedding ever happened. The mother of the bride was gloomy and concerned. She had begged and wept but to no avail.

On the wedding day we went to Hajara's house with gloomy faces. It felt as if we were attending her funeral. She refused to get dressed and continued crying. Her mother told Malam Sadi of her refusal to get dressed to which He only said "it is better to go to the grave looking beautiful not smelling like a cows dung and looking like an old hag. At least people will remember a pretty face. "

She finally got dressed after a lot of persuasion. But she refused to go out. The calabash music could be heard from indoors. But nobody was dancing. The calabash musicians, all women were hitting the calabash and singing with a view to reducing the tension. some of the guests had started dancing. But we were Hajara's confidantes we were sharing in her sorrow. We were not dancing, just dreading the inevitable because Hajara was still threatening suicide.

Hajara was not alone in her agony, Her nigger was also in much emotional turmoil. He was shouting curses to no one in particular. Then he bought some weed(marijuana) rolled some In a piece of paper and lit it. He puffed smoke everywhere while He continues to shower curses and insults. He was getting high, but he continued. People show their pain and sorrows in different ways, this was the way The Nigger knew how to show his.

People were dancing to calabash music, when Baaba Sa'a a woman in her mid forties came rushing, escorted by some village women. Except Baaba Sa'a was not dressed for a wedding. She wore a worn out wrapper and a blous from a different fabric. She carelessly threw a veil over her shoulders. The veil was dirty but she did not care. She made her way to Halimatu, who was busy dancing, swaying her hips and shaking her butt to the beautiful calabash music

"Bring me back my child. We never agreed for you to take her that far. I have visited you several times, asking the same request, yet she is still not home. You will bring back my daughter Halimatu, I shan't ask again. I have seen what happen to girls in that God forsaken faraway town. Azeema is a living proof. Have you even been to that place yourself? Yet you sent my daughter there without consulting me. Bring me back my daughter Halimatu, my patience had reached its Limit. "
The woman wailed. While the women who came as support nodded in agreement.

Halimatu's dance was put to a halt, she looked at Baaba sa'a. Suprised and disbelief took over her face.
Everyone waited for Halimatu to answer.

Halimatu said "Baba Sa'a, please be patient. I will bring back your daughter. I shall go to the city tomorrow. I know you are worried because of the condition Azeema is in. The Lord knows I had no hand in that. I am as surprised as you are. I am anxious to get Ubaidah back also."

Azeema was an emotional wreck. She had been abused in every possible way. She was physically and mentally abused. Her body was bruised in the most inhuman ways. She now speaks a foreign language. She said at the far away town, there were very little people who spoke Hausa language. They all speak a different language. A language she came to understand with time.

When ever she sits she starts narrating the hardships she had to endure, the trauma she went through. She had nightmares. Sometimes she wakes up in the middle of the night shouting "I'm sorry, please, forgive me. No! No! Stop!" Sound sleep was something foreign to her now. Gone were the days when Azeema was always bubbling with happiness, gone were the days when very little things excite her, gone were the days when she thought the world was a beautiful place, gone was her innocence. She had to take herbal sedatives to have a sound sleep. In the day she sometimes become hysterical, sometimes she wept while she narrates the stories. She is afraid of almost everything but more importantly the town. She said that the people put out cigarettes on her back because of the most little things, such as the time she did not wash the bitter leaf well, the woman in the far away town was about to put the leaves in the soup when she decided to taste it, she was outraged when she found out that the leaves had traces of bitter taste. As such her back is covered with healed burnt bruises. They were some that were still fresh.
She was a working machine. She worked from morning till night while the people still complain and say she is lazy.
She Was mercilessly beaten.
She was disfigured also, she now limps while she walks.
Baaba Sa'a continued
"Bring me back my daughter"
" You may not believe me Baaba Sa'a but I have tried to get your daughter several times but to no avail. The people had refused to produce her. But I will go to town tomorrow, I will not come back without your daughter. Even if it have to travel to the faraway town. I will. I promise you. "
Halimatu concluded.
Baaba Sa'a seemed relieved. She turned and went out of the house.
The men were coming back home. The wedding had been concluded. Hajara is now a sorrowful bride.

The people from the grooms family had already arrived to convey the bride to her husband's house. Hajara refused to go. Some women held her forcibly and dragged her out while she kickes and shouts. They manage to put her on a motorcycle. The motorcyclist immediately started to drive. But Hajara threw herself off the motorcycle, still weeping. Her Father was again called and told what had happened. He kept quiet for a while. The mother had started begging him to please postpone the conveyance until she talk some sense into Hajara. Then Malam Said spoke but not to the mother he called Nuhu, his nephew. Nuhu is known for his strength through out the village. He is a tall well built man of 23years. Very Obedient to his Uncle, his uncle's words were like ordinances to him.
Malam Sadi said:
"Nuhu I want you to put hajara on that motorcycle. You sit behind her, make sure she does not fall. Take her to her husband's house safely.Then leave. Once she is there she is no longer my concern. Report to me after it is done"
"Okay" was Nuhu's only reply.
Nuhu put Hajara on the bike. He did it with little effort and sits behind her. She tries to get away, but his muscular arms held her in place.

Weeks passed Hajara was still living. She did not kill herself after-all.
Hajara's dust had settled. Another bomb was about to explode. It was mine.
My mother called me and asked me whether the rumors she heard were true. Was Mudi really courting me?
I replied with a Yes.
"Ladi" she says
" This madness has to stop. You have to tell Mudi off. I know he is manipulating you. Men are very manipulative. You have to always remember Hafsat is your cousin. You are related. You cannot be her co-wife. The thought of it is even ridiculous. Kinship is everything. Keeping ties is religiously ordained. Don't bring shame to yourself and your family. This has to stop, even if I have to talk to Mudi myself. We may not see eye to eye with Hafsat's mother but what you are doing is wrong"
I was boiling with anger. Did she know what I went through before I got Mudi? I worked hard for Mudi, no body can steal the fruits of my Labour. Now my own mother is telling me to forsake my Love. How could she? Doesn't she love me anymore? Why can't she support me? Why doesn't she want my happiness?

"Mother, do you hate me? Do you want to kill me? Do you want to see me dead? " I asked angrily
"Of course not my daughter. I will never want to see you in harm's way. I carried you for nine months and gave birth to you. I know your pain. I share your pain. I am doing this for your own good. I want to give you a good future."

"Then do not take away Mudi from me, he is my present and my future. If you have my goodwill at heart you will support me. There is no me without Mudi. I have found my calling and he is called Mudi. If in my short life I will do anything right, It will be having him as a husband. I cannot live a life without Mudi in it."
I said.
She was dumbfounded. She kept looking at me, while I shook my leg angrily. My gaze fixated on my side. Looking at nothing in particular.
"May God guide us" was all she said. And we continued sitting in an awkward silence.