"LET ME BE YOUR FOREVER"

“Your beauty is exquisite Aailyah"
Those words instantly transport me to a time when life was truly beautiful.
I smile.
“You’ve always rocked my world.” His voice flits toward me.
I reach out to touch him; to feel him.

“Aailyah…I want to feel you in me. Your love completes me. You’re my all.”

I feel the tears trickling down my face. I don’t know why I’m crying. Perhaps because I’m overwhelmed with joy at seeing him.
I cling to him, welcoming him into my world again. I can feel the bond that holds us.

“Will you ever leave me, Adin?” I whisper.
His only answer is to lower his lips gently to mine; caressing my lips softly with his. His kiss has always meant heaven to me. Those lips that never grow old, they have sent me to destinations unknown in time past. I could pick them out of a crowd of countless lips.
I feel my heart beating loudly against my chest as he kisses me. I don’t want to ever let go.
“Hold me, Adin.” I say, my eyes filling with tears. “Take me with you. I’ll be your forever.”

I watch him smile at me- that golden smile. The one that melted me when I first saw it. His dimples blink shyly at me.

“Mummy?” A voice slices the peace in my heart. “Mummy! What are you doing?!”

I blink, looking in the direction of the voice. All I see is darkness. My Adin is gone.
“No! Don’t leave me!” I scream, reaching out to grip him.
“Mummy! Calm down.” That pesky voice again.
“Adin please don’t go.” I’m sobbing now.
Hands suddenly cradle me.

“Easy mummy.” She says, her voice sounding suddenly familiar and soothing.
I wonder why she keeps calling me mummy.
“I want Adin.” I say, hoping she will hear me. “I saw him here, just a few minutes ago.”

There’s silence. My sweet-voiced girl doesn’t answer me. Then I hear another voice:
“She’s agitated. Leave her be. I’ll give her her medication.”
“Doctor, is she going to ever know me again?” I hear the sweet-voiced girl now. “She’s always talking about my father; calling his name! But what about me?!”

I open my eyes, trying to see the girl. Again I see darkness.
Nothing. No Adin. No girl. I’m all alone.
“I’m sorry Miss. I wish I could reassure you but I can’t. Your mother suffered a traumatic accident that affected not just her sight, but her memory also.”
“So she will never recover either? Give me some hope, doctor! It’s been two years already! It’s the same story! You think I like seeing my mother in this condition? I hate coming to this place, I come because I love her.  But how can I love someone who doesn’t even know me?”

I can feel her trembling. I sense the pain in her voice and I wish I can comfort her. Adin always knows how to comfort me.
“Adin can comfort you.” I say, reaching out to touch her.
“Oh for God’s sake Mum! Daddy is dead!”
Suddenly the hands are no longer holding me. I miss their comforting touch.
“Lie down Aailyah. It’s time for your medication.” It’s the other voice I hear now.
I sense the needle as it makes contact with my skin. Drowsiness sets in.
I know I’m about to take a trip; perhaps I will meet Adin again. And this time never let him go.

2013 All rights reserved. MimiAdebayo.

HABIBA

Her name is Habiba; she is the pretty girl that sells recharge cards under the mango tree at the junction of our street. I don’t know how old she is but I think she’s older than me, but age is just a number when it comes to love, right?
I’m only fourteen but I’ve learned to admire beauty. So I am very sure of what I mean when I say I’m going to marry Habiba when I’m older. I have not told her this.
I have only told Salma my elder sister and she laughed at me. Salma is sixteen and developing,we are the only children of our mother but we manage to spend very little time with either of our parents.
Mama would rather spend all her time in the prayer house begging God to convert Papa’s wicked soul.
Papa, on the other hand has four other children besides me and Salma that keep his hands full. I’ve always wondered what religion I will eventually practice.
Papa is a Muslim and Mama is a Christian; Mama has once mentioned that she’d been instructed by a prophetess to marry Papa and that her purpose in life is to convert him.
Well;  sixteen years have come and gone; Papa married another wife and he’s as strong a Muslim as ever.
I’ve tried telling Mama that maybe her prophetess made a mistake all those years ago; she tells me:
“Sule, God’s time is the best. I will be patient.”
She says that often and I wonder when the time named ‘God’s time’ will come.
Even though Mama makes us go to church with her; I’m not sure I believe like she does. Maybe because I’ve watched her go from one prayer house to another seeking answers.
Mama doesn’t eat; not because she doesn’t want to, but because she’s always on one fast or the other.
“This weekend is deliverance weekend.” She’ll say. “We have to fast seven days to prepare ourselves for God’s blessing.”
Salma and I hate these impromptu fasts because Mama always makes sure we participate by not cooking except for Papa.
And then when the Muslim fasts come; we are expected to participate too.
I might become a Muslim because I want to marry Habiba; but then again- I could be a Christian and make Habiba become one too. I would not need to visit prayer houses to get her to change; our love would be strong enough to make that choice for us.

Today is Friday and I’m walking from school alone. On other days Salma and I walk home together, recently though, my sister has been trying to separate herself from me.
A friend of mine told me it is puberty.” Salma is changing,” he said.” She now has big breasts and her bottom is round. She can get married any day!”
The picture of my sister married is a funny one, though not a strange one.
I don’t know if that’s her reason for leaving me but I don’t care. I need space too. If I’m going to start courting Habiba; I must look and act mature.
Maybe I will write her a poem! Oh Habiba! Your eyes are like the stars twinkling like er…
Perhaps a poem isn’t such a good idea. I’m now at the junction where Habiba’s spot is but I don’t see her anywhere.
Her usual spot is empty. I wonder where she is.
However, I continue my journey home. Tomorrow is another day. Or this evening. I could sneak out just to take a peek at dear Habiba.

As I approach the house, I notice the compound is empty. I can tell where my two Mamas have gone to. But I was expecting Salma to be home.
I’m passing to my room but I decide to take a peek through her room window to see if she’s home.
The blinds are pulled down but there’s a small hole in her curtain which I doubt she knows about, so I stand on tiptoe and peep into the room.
I almost fall when I see them.
My one and only Habiba and my sister kissing.

And the first thought that comes to mind is that I will join Mama tomorrow on her visit to the prayer house. I have a reason - My heart has just been broken.

The Sword Called Divorce (Episode Finale)

Joe wasn’t sure what to do. He hesitated before opening the door.
“Who’s it?” Nike emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hand with a dishrag.
“Er…” shifted on his feet.
The door fell open to reveal Izie standing in the doorway. It was raining outside and she was dripping wet.
“May I come in?” She hugged herself.
“What for?” Nike was suddenly on the defensive, twirling the dish rag in her hands.
“Please, it’s cold out here.”
Without another word, Joe shifted to let her in. He wasn’t sure what was about to happen, but he knew he didn’t wanna be there. This was wrong timing. He’d thought Izie was outta their lives for good.
“What do you want, Izie?” Nike asked, standing with arms akimbo.
“Sister Izie! Hello!” It was Bella who broke the ice, she ran towards her and threw herself in  Izie’s arms, not minding her wet body.
“How are you, sweetheart?” Izie bent to kiss her, nervously.
“Come and see my homework.” She held on to Izie’s hand and pulled her towards the centre table.
“Bella darling. Go to your room and put on the TV.”  Nike ordered stiffly.
“But mummy…I want to…” Bella looked set to throw a tantrum.
“Bella. You heard your mummy. Let’s go and watch Dora the Explorer. You’ll see Sister Izie later.” Joe took her by the shoulders firmly and led her to her room.
The awkwardness returned to the room like the ghosts of a graveyard;   both women stared at themselves, one with disgust…the other with a plea. The nervousness that permeated the atmosphere was as thick as clothe.
“What do you want Izie? Nike was exasperated. “Why don’t you just leave us alone?”
“I came to see you. There’s nothing I have to say that you haven’t heard before but the difference is today I’m not leaving here without your forgiveness.”
The next thing Izie did stunned Nike. She dropped to her knees before her, wet clothes and all dripping all over the floor.
“I haven’t had a night of peace since this saga started. I regret what I did. I feel stupid for letting the devil use me to break a home. And I can’t live with myself if this family falls apart. Please ma, with every drop of blood in my body I’m begging you to forgive me. I am so sorry for what I did. Please find a place in your heart to forgive me.”
If Izie had looked closely, she’d have noticed that Nike was shaking almost frenziedly.
“Please ma. I’m not leaving here until you forgive me.” Izie reiterated, this time tears were running down her face.
“You…you have the guts to…do you…do you know what you…” Within the blink of an eye, Nike hit Izie right across the face, the impact sending her reeling back.
The only noise in the room was the whimpering sound coming from Izie.
“I deserve that. I deserve that and more. If it makes you feel better ma, go ahead and hit me again.” Izie snivelled.
Surprisingly, Nike sank to the floor in tears. She clutched at her chest and began sobbing softly.
Anyone walking in on the scene would be transfixed by the sight before their eyes. Two women, seemingly arch-enemies sat beside each other with tears running down their faces.
“Come here, you silly girl.” Nike whispered, and pulled Izie into her arms.
And with just one hug; the months of resentment melted away and slowly the pain began to heal. The healing balm began to do its work.
It’s called love and with it comes forgiveness.

No more words needed to be said, apologies were no longer essential…an unspoken agreement had just been made. Both women had come to terms with themselves and their mistakes.
“I’m making dinner. Coconut rice, will you eat?” Nike raised herself up, dusting her skirt.
“Er…ma, I have something to show you.”
“Again? What is it again?”
“Marie.”
At the sound of her daughter’s name, Nike pivoted sharply. “What? What did you say?”
Before she could reply the door to the sitting room flew open and Marie stood in the shadows.
“Mummy.” Her voice filtered in.
“Marie!!!” Without thinking, Nike ran forward and folded her daughter into her arms “Honey! Marie is home!!!” She announced, her voice brimming with joy.
The atmosphere at the Babalola’s residence was suddenly filled with joy, excitement and exhilaration. So many questions being asked without answers being given, lots of hugs and kisses and above the din no one noticed when Izie slipped away.

After fifteen minutes of hullabaloo, quietness returned to the atmosphere again.
“Where’s Izie?” Nike asked.
“Ah…she was here some minutes ago.” Joe responded.
“Mummy, daddy. Sister Izie is gone.” Marie said softly.
“What do you mean ‘gone’?”
“She said she’s leaving our lives for good. She came to say good bye.”
“Oh my God. She shouldn’t have left just like that. I have to call her. She’s family now. Where’s my phone?”
Joe and Marie watched Nike go off looking for her phone.

“Daddy where’s Bella?” Marie asked.
“She slept off while watching TV. Sweetheart don’t ever do that again, ok? Don’t run off to prove a point.”
“I wasn’t proving a point daddy. I wanted you and mummy back together again. I needed mummy to come back to her senses.”
“Well, let’s hope you succeeded. Come here and gimme a hug. We missed  you.”

“You planned this with Izie, right?”  Nike came back in, brandishing her phone.
“I’m sorry mummy. But I wanted you and daddy to see what it’s like to have a broken home.”
“You know what?” Nike stood with arms akimbo. “You’re too wise for your own age.”
Marie cracked a smile. “Did it work, mummy?”
“Well, let’s just say you taught me a good lesson. Now I know how much this family means to me.”
With that Nike covered the distance between her and her husband, holding out her hand to him.
“I’ve also learned the art of forgiveness. If anyone had told me some months ago that I wouldn’t hate you and Izie again…I would’ve sent that person to hell and back. But knowing what I know now…the way I felt when I let go of all the anger and pain, I feel so relieved, so light; like a burden has been taken off my shoulders. Honey, I’m sorry for being stubborn and unforgiving. I don’t know what came over me but we all make mistakes and even God forgives.”
“And I’m sorry for betraying you. It’ll never happen again.” Joe beamed and dropped to one knee. “Mrs Nike Babalola would you do me the favour of re-marrying me? Let’s renew our vows.”

Nike flushed, glancing at her daughter. “Yes, I will remarry you.”

MIMI. A

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