Soiled #ProjectNigeria ✔️

Chapter 40: Bristle Holders

"Come here"

I walked close to him and held my hands together, pleading. He waves the belt in his hand, testing it by slapping it over his left hand repeatedly.

"I warned you not to insult my mother and sisters anymore. But guess what I hear? You. Nabeela, telling my mother that your family can afford to buy three of those wretched gold necklaces." I blow a large blob of catarrh into my Cotton scarf.

"I didn't say so." I wave my hand frantically hoping he'll understand.
" She lent my earring and necklace set, and said someone stole it a few weeks back. I saw it on her earlier. I asked and I got insulted." He hisses.

"What good does it do you anyways. Isn't it just a necklace, you've always been ugly that's why you need it. And no one would ever love you so you need your gold and diamond to feel loved." He waves the belt again but I feel more pain than the belt could ever give.

"I'm pregnant. I'm carrying your baby Nadir." His eyes widen and I congratulate myself for the effort. He won't beat me anymore. Its just as Hajiya said, he'll soften once there is a child involved.

"You think you can lie to me?" I shake, loosing hope like stepping into a quicksand.

"I'm not lying. Wallah. I'm not lying." I walk back and hit the wall in my haste to get away from him. Oh Allah, my baby.

"Come closer, come here." He plops down on a stool he'd moved to the edge of the coffee table.

"Lay down there." I laid on the cold coffee table with tears rolling down my eyes.

The first hit lands on my back and I cry out, others hit me in succession. My back hurts so I try to turn my front to shield my back, forgetting my baby. He flogged me till he got weak and I slid to the floor in tears.

He went to the Suratul Al-Fathia frame on the wall and flung it in my direction in blind rage. The glass missing me by inches. He walks out and I collapse in more tears.

When the Adhaan for Isha sounds, I feel something trickle out of me but I'm too weak to even touch myself. I find energy deep into myself and touch between my legs and my hands come back sticky with blood. My hands hang limply in my side.

Someone gets into the room and I see its Adeel. "Adeel. Help." I croak out silently. He walks close and touches my legs and looks at them.

"Beela, this is blood." He smiles  and becomes Nadir making me scream.

"Innalilahi." I wake up to a night light on in the bathroom. I look around and burst into tears.

I lost my baby, I wasn't able to protect my baby. My child, my first.

I wrap my hands around my belly and shake with sobs when the alarm is set for Fajr rings out loud. I got out of Adeel's bed in his father's house and walked to the bathroom to perform ablution.

I performed ablution and wore a grey hijab that I pulled off when I came in late last night. I set out my mat and began to pray.

Just as I ended my prayer, I remembered my nightmare and prayed for Adeel, prayed for myself and my lost baby. Nothing in world hurt more than that loss.

I get up to strip my clothes to take a shower. Its Baaba's sixty fifth birthday and though he's not having a celebration, Maama asked that we come over to celebrate since Adeel and Mohammed went to France to get an international license for the Hassan Airline.

I walk out of the shower feeling refreshed, the bad dream pushed to a far corner of my mind.

I dress in a blue boubou and tie a  white scarf around my head and check the time. Its six-thirty so I walk out of the room, shutting the door behind me.