A Weakness Called Love: Memoirs of an African Housemaid

CHAPTER 15: NO ONE'S CHILD

I had been selling food for a while. But saving the money is not exactly easy. If anything the capital had been decreasing. We have saved nothing. Selling food was not working. We were almost out of business. My mother was dead worried. We had to think of a way out. At the rate we were going, by the end of the month we will run out of capital. We wouldn't have money for marriage. We would not have saved a dime. My mother was sitting in the courtyard on a small Woden chair, part of it was chopped of, it could not stand on its own. So, she set it beside the wall and rests her back on the wall. I was sitting on a clay brick. We were both silent, buried in our thoughts, thinking of ways to save some money. When Ameena ran into our house. She shouted

"Come quickly, Halimatu is back, she does not have azeeema with her. Baaba Sa'a is causing a scene. Come quickly"
She ran out immediately after the I words left her mouth left her mouth.
We wasted no time. I did not bother wearing a hijab, I had a head tie already, so I followed her immediately, while my mother ran into our room and covered herself with a wrapper, running behind us.

"Give me the body of my child Halimatu, I had lost two sons in that Godforsaken city not knowing whether they are dead or alive. Let me bury my child, let me see her body at least I will have peace of mind. She said between tears. "

Pain sears through her eyes like branding iron.

All this while Halimatu could not look the woman in the eye. How could she, the woman had been through great tribulation. Yet here is another and Halimatu is to blame.

Although Halimatu deems it as an act of fate. She was still a road to the destiny.  Azeema is no longer alive. Halimatu had went to the city and had pressured Hajiya Kulu about Azeema. Hajiya Kulu had called and called but the people were not giving information so they decided to take a trip to the faraway town. They went to the town and were informed by the people she worked for that Azeemah is dead. She had a fever, she was given all the care but she died nontheless. When inquired about her body, they say she had already been buried. They talked to Halimatu and Hajiya Kulu very harshly as if they were some pests. They told them to leave the next day because they will not be habouring them for another day. They left without seeing neither her grave nor her body. The people of the faraway town hated to be questioned. They were kings in their realms that had to be respected and dealt with delicately.

Baaba Sa'a is now looking for trouble, she wanted to see the body of her child. She wanted to know what exactly happens to the child, she wanted to know her girl's last days, she wanted to know why she was not told about the demise of her child as soon as it happened.

The woman had suffered a lot. She had been blessed with three sons and 3daughters. Baaba Sa'a had lost kids at infancy, four kids. But 6stayed with her. They were not affluent and the husband was more interested in marrying new wives every year after harvest than taking care of his immediate family. Whenever pangs of poverty became severe, he insists on getting married again, in his belief marriage relieves poverty.

After he had the maximum wives agreed under the Islamic faith which is four wives, he was still  not contented. Every year he divorces one and replaced her with another. The wives had kids each year, as at recent the man has about 30kids. Yet he does not take care of them. When a woman is divorced she leaves the children at the man's house and marries another leaving Baaba Sa'a to take care of them.

Like most men Malam Hassan does not want to spend a dine on his kid and insisted they be taken to the city for Islamic teaching. Who the females were taken to town to work as maids. The "almajiri" schools. When ever rain is about to fall Malam Hassan order the male kids at almajiri schools to come home and till the land. After harvest they are sent back to school without eating a grain of their hard Labour.