HER WET PILLOW

THE FRUITFUL ARGUMENT

CHAPTER 8
THE FRUITFUL ARGUMENT
Weeks passed by; and things were going smoothly. We were actually having a nice time despite the toughness of the situation. Zeena’s presence was actually a blessing to us; we were happy as we got someone new. All my siblings were so kind towards her and they enjoyed keeping her company whenever they were back from school. No one knew how mom was actually managing most especially the new addition and dad’s disappearance. Dad’s disappearance wasn’t a problem as he made no contribution even if he was present; he only disturbs the atmosphere with anger, critics and annoyance. We were raised by a single mom although she wasn’t single; our dad was more of a living statue. I was actually doing well in school too as the presence of Fatima made no small impact. She was actually like a goddess to me although we do fight when our personality crashes or during some misunderstandings.  Even our teachers knew we were tight friends as they would call us rice and beans. If they by any chance see any of us alone, they would ask for the other. We had great memories together as we spent time together at school, on our way home and sometimes during weekends, we do visit each other. My mom an hers became close as the result of our bond and it turned out that they both knew each other even before I and Fatima met; that was more reason for us to be close to each other.
Back to Zeena, mom actually studied her a lot and she noticed she had a lot of potentials and such potentials shouldn’t be wasted. So she called her and asked if she was interested in schooling once again which Zeena accepted in joy. I can remember how happy and excited Zeena was; she danced with joy and had a beautiful smile on her face. Mom actually made preparation for her schooling; she bought her all the necessary things needed for her to school.  She and mom had an agreement that no matter the situation she found herself, she shouldn’t share the experience she had. She equally made us promise not to inform anyone on who she really is and what happened to her. She informed us to tell anyone that asked what our relationship with her is that she is our cousin. Mom had her reasons; she wanted Zeena to live a normal life without stigmatization which actually worked out.
Luckily, mom’s trade was actually boosting which made things easier. Ziyad usually visits and he eats with us. Mom asked him to come to her anytime he is facing problems which he actually did. Mom wasn’t just our mom; she was mom to many. I was often surprised at mom’s kind gestures. What surprised me most was that she was a poor trader with four kids who is actually suffering from life encounters but despite all she was going through, she still tries to make happy faces. She was so awesome and no word can be used to describe how amazing she was but still, my lucky father kept on plugging flowers from the beautiful garden he was gifted with instead of watering it. Every time this thought comes across my mind, I just pity my dad more and more.
Everything was actually fine and comforting not until one sad morning. We woke up early and did the necessary things we needed to do as usual. We were all done dressing and we started taking our breakfast. Mom made puff-puff for us to eat after serving us tea. That morning was so peaceful until my dad came back. Although he wasn’t drunk, he wouldn’t drink since it was morning. He rushed in without talking to anyone with his face frowned. He looked at us one after the other as we greeted him until he saw Zeena and stood in front of her. I knew something bad was going to happen from the look on his face.
“Who are you?” He asked Zeena with a strict voice.
“I..I..am Zeena.” Zeena replied shivering.
“Ehen! Then what are you doin..”
“I asked her to stay with us, she has been and will continue to live with us.” Mom cut in without allowing him to complete his statement.
“I can see that you have the audacity to bring a stranger into my home and feed her with my..” He then stopped.
“Oh! Your what? Complete the statement. You are so funny I swear. You should start working as a clown; that will fit you best.” She said laughing.
The next thing we hard was a slap on mom’s face. This time, it was loud and clear that dad beats mom. He could no longer hide it as he used to. I can remember the look on the faces of my siblings and Zeena. For the very first time, they saw their mother being slapped by their father. It was actually a shock to them but not to me. My siblings had no idea on dad’s behaviours because mom always covered up for him. She tells them he travels to search for food for us when he is away or he goes for weddings or he is being giving tough assignment and more. Whenever they see the bruises mom gets from dad’s beatings and ask how she got them, she would make up something to tell them to prevent them from having hatred for their father. Mom never hid anything from me because she knew I was well informed and no cooked up stories would work for me nor was she able to erase the hatred I had for him; although she minimized it.
It was now clear to my siblings that their father was a monster. No one was as shocked as little fatty, she stared deeply that the thought of her eye balls popping out came to my mind. It was such a shocking experience they had. Poor kids, they didn’t know what was going on. But it never ended with the slap he gave her, he punched her continuously. I could remember mom’s screams and we standing helplessly. We couldn’t do anything to save our mother, it was beyond our control. Hot painful deep tears rolled down our eyes, Fatty fell down on her knees. She was crying whole heartedly. I was also dumbfounded until I had a heroic taught of saving my poor mother. I rushed to them and started dragging her before I knew it, my sibling were also dragging her. We finally freed our mom and rushed her to the room while Fatty locked the room. My dad kept on banging at the door as if he wanted to break it. We were all scared and we went to hug our helpless mother and few minutes later, he left.
Our morning was bitter, sorrow and pain was all that rained in the atmosphere. We were all broken, my siblings sobbed hard and Zeena’s sobbing was worst as she thought all that happened was her fault. Which was not true as it showed us the true version of our father. My siblings were most broken; they couldn’t say a word without tears dropping from their eyes. Mom wiped her face, cleared her throat and said:
“My little darlings, this shouldn’t bother you. I know you must have been disappointed in your father but he is still your father no matter what. I know and believe that this too shall pass. We have passed through a lot of things that caused us pain and sadness and most of them are gone now. I want you to also believe that we will live a better life soon. Now clean your faces and get ready for school.” She said and gave us a hug. Mom wiped our tears and prepared us for school. None of us looked like children who wanted to go to school, we were so sad that anyone could see it on our faces and how we left home. My siblings took a turn to school and I boarded a tricycle. There was no “bye bye” because all of us were silent.
Finally, I was at the school gate. I walked sluggishly inside; I couldn’t even lift my legs off the ground to walk. While I was going in, Fatima saw me from a far so she was walking towards me. She was looking at me as I walked in and I didn’t even notice I was there, I was in wonderland. I was lost in thoughts when she tabbed me and I startled.
“Hey! What are thinking about?” she asked. I was silently looking at her without uttering a word. I tried very hard to prevent the stubborn tears from dropping but it seemed the tears were determined to fall. I was so weak and pressured, I didn’t even know what to say. I hugged her tightly and sobbed. She patted me gently till I was done weeping. I then took my handkerchief and wiped my face. I was fine again and the false smile appeared as usual. Fatima didn’t bother to ask me what happened because she knew it was a domestic issue. We then moved to the class.  We then had our assembly and resume our lessons for the day.
During break time, we were all in class. We had this nerd in our class, her name was Farida. She was a very silent girl; she doesn't look for trouble nor discuss with anyone in class. She never interfered in matters that didn’t concern her. She was the most gentle and most silent in the class.  She didn’t have friends and the only reason she talks in class is when questions are being asked to give response otherwise she was with her books reading always. Some boys in our class went near her desk and started teasing her.
“Hey dear, or should I saw weirdo?” one of them said and they all busted into laughter. He was Simon. Simon was naughty and smart. He was known for his braveness and intelligence but one thing he lacked was manners. He was very rude and arrogant. He loved to bully his peers and sometimes he even bullies his seniors. He had two followers; I won’t call them his friends because  they were friends with benefit. Simon benefited from their wealth, they were rich kids so they do bring lot of things to school which he always took from them. One of them was Aminu, Aminu was from a very rich family background but he doesn’t know much which made him depend on Simon on his assignments and classworks. The other was Christopher, Christopher once had a fight with the JSS2 seniors and Simon saved him from them. Ever since, he depended on Simon for security. It was more of a mutual relationship.
They all laughed at Farida and took her book away. She was trying to collect the book from them but they kept passing it around. I was looking at them from my sit so did others but no one seemed to interfere. As she was reaching out for her book, she tripped and fell. Luckily, her spectacles didn’t break.  I forgot to mention that she used glasses. That got me angry and I stood up from my sit to help Farida. I lifted her up and helped her sit. I then gave her my pocket handkerchief to dust her body.
“What the hell is wrong with you guys? I don’t know you lack manners to this extent. You have no respect for the females at all?”
“See who is talking. What is your own business sef? Wetin be your own?” He concluded  in pidgin. He was very sound in Pidgin English and he could speak it well but it wasn’t allowed in school. It was considered as vernacular.
“My problem is the fact that you lack respect and you are too rude. Even if your sense was not working, your brain would have told you that she is a lady.”
“And so? What is special in her being a lady? As if it is not your religion that doesn’t respect women. Women are treated like trash with no respect and liberty given to them.” He said, the savage turned out to be a racist.
“Hey! Stop there. If you want to insult me, do it. But don’t insult my religion because I won’t spare you. Wait, aren’t you from another religion, why are you disrespecting her? Didn’t your religion teach you how to respect women?”
“How dare you? How dare you speak about my religion like that?”
“Did I? I just asked a question.”
We then heard a loud voice saying “Stop!” from behind. It turned out to be our Islamic Studies teacher. He came at the right time.
“What is wrong with you both? Have you both forgotten that racism is forbidden in this institution? None of you should repeat this.”
“But..” Simon tried to say.
“But what I heard what you did. Was that a good behaviour? And I heard you saying some things that made no sense. Do not say anything about what you have no knowledge about. If you know Islam well, then you will know it is the most feminist religion.”
“Feminist religion you say?” Simon asked with a surprising look.
“Yes, feminist religion. I know why you are so shocked. The truth is that our society and even the practicing Muslims have no proper knowledge about it.  A female in Islam has rights and responsibilities. She has the right to education, to work, to freedom..”
“What? But sir I know of Muslims who don’t allow their women to work or go out. They said it is the religion that declares that.” A girl in my class said.
“They are wrong my dear, that is why I told you that most people really don’t know about the religion. A woman is allowed to work and own properties and if she does, it belongs to her not her husband, not her family. She might decide to spend on them when she wishes; it will be a kind gesture if she does. A woman has the right to divorce her spouse, she has right to inheritance, she has the right to kill her rapist..”
“Woooww!” We said. There was absolute silence in the class, we all paid attention.
“But why is it that some Muslim men disrespect their wives and even beat them up?” I asked after I remember what happened at home.
“It is because of ignorance my dear. In Islam, women are to be treated in the nicest way possible. Their husbands, family and community are to respect them. The Messenger of Allah peace be upon him asked us to treat women with care and he even mentioned it in his last message before he passed away. Do you know that the curse of Allah will be on any man that makes a woman shed tears of pain or breaks her heart?” we were all staring at each other. We never heard of such things before. Although it was surprising but it was a good news.
“But why is it that they are not allowed to do some certain things like dress anyhow, talk with freedom, and do what they like?” Simon asked.
“That is a very good question. Anything Allah has prohibited on women is for their own good. She is asked to dress decently for her security, she is asked to talk in a low voice and to be shy in some situation because it expresses her self esteem and modesty, she is not allowed to attach hair or nails or brows as a sign of contentment with what she has naturally, and there is a way she is supposed to walk and do different things just for her benefit.”

“Wow! I wish lot of people know this. Your religion is actually nice.” Simon said with a smile on his face.
“Yes Simon, no religion on earth allows disrespect or bad attitude towards women; Islam, Christianity and others. Women are to be respected always no matter what the situation may be. A man is not fully a man when he doesn’t respect a woman. I leave you in peace.”
“Thank you sir.” We all said.  Simon apologized to me and Farida and we were good; no more fights. It was actually nice hearing all that. I was so desperate to go home and tell my mom. Everything went smoothly at school that day.
I went back home and the atmosphere wasn’t encouraging; everyone was silent. I tried to tell some funny things but no one listened. Mom was equally depressed. I was trying to talk to her when mom gave me a very scary annoyed irritated look which made me leave immediately. She then asked me to go and heat water. I was deeply hurt but I understood that she was depressed so I shouldn’t get angry over such issues. I went to the kitchen to heat the water and left. I went back to the room and my mood changed once again.
“Will we continue this way” I thought. My heart was bitterly wounded but I managed to go back to the kitchen to check the water. I can't explain how I felt; hurt, annoyed, depressed or should I say all. I was handling the kettle when I accidentally…..