Mum stared at me in amazement and then back to Doctor Abdullah.
“Have you ever aborted?” he questioned.
My heart suddenly sank to his titanic question, leaving about a million thoughts in my head. I wondered if she doubted me.
“Never!” I replied coldly.
“Then it should be how you are born. You were born with a perforated womb.”
‘How possible?’ I frowned for a while, everything seemed confusing and was still confusing to me.
“I’ll advise you to reduce stress. Once you hit 7 months, you’ll have to come for a check-up in the hospital.”
“What?! But why?” Mum cuts in. Her eyes requested immediate answers.
“It means she’ll have to go through caesarian?” He faced me as if he was announcing a death sentence.
“I fear your womb could not condole the force of labour.”
I burst out into a peal of ridiculous laughter. They looked at me as if I was going crazy, but his last words made me laugh.
Then I faced Doctor Abdullah and a half smile formed on my lips.
“Doctor, I will give birth to the babies myself. What held a perforated womb to accommodate twins will surely hold it till I’m due. Allah is the Starter and Finisher. I believe He will bring it to perfection.” I told him.
"Okay then. If you say so, who am I to judge?" He heaved out a gentle sigh and asked the next patient to come in.
Hajia Mariam and I took our leave and got into the black, Nissan car. She stares at the car engines and drives into the busy road. On our way home, I brought out the cheque and handed it out to Hajia Maryam, my new mother.
“This is for you, ma...”
“Aisha, why are you doing this?”
“First fruit, mum.”
“This doesn’t belong to me, my dear. We would have to take this to Assalatu for donation or sadaqah (charity).”
“This is my first receive working on the path of Allah, doing jihad here. I’m still so grateful to you for everything. And with the strong faith in my heart, I will carry my babies till the 9th month and give birth myself.”
Hajia looked at me with tears in her eyes, and I wondered why. She just wiped it out before the streak touched her chin.
“Are these tears of joy, mum?”
“What kind of faith do you have, Aisha? I pray to Allah to be as faithful as you are. You’re just a true Muslimah and a Muminah at that.” She sniffed.
“Mother...” I rolled my worried eyes at her.
“Daughter, if you say you can. I believe you can. Allah is by your side, my dear.”
“Thanks, Mum, thanks a lot for supporting me.” I smiled as we finally got home. I entered my room and made my Magrub prayer.
What if I had aborted? I may never have this opportunity again... I may have died trying to destroy my womb. Yaa Salam! I’m grateful for Your love, mercy, and kindness.
“Awunaka Yaa Hannan, Awunaka Yaa Sultaan: I solicit Your help, The Most Compassionate, I solicit Your help, The King.” I recited within my heart.
***
Later In The Morning,
At 3:30 a.m.
They joined me in praying tajjud. I prayed for them:
YOU ARE READING
A Tale Of Justice
General FictionSixteen-year-old Aisha Akorede, daughter of a religious Imam, gets into an incident that changes her life forever. Her family, honour, and even her future are tarnished. Now, Aisha has to convince the entire world who she is. Follow Aisha Akorede on...
