Her Voice Within

Chapter 7

ILHAAM     

Abuja, Nigeria

     In the not-so-early hours of the morning, around 9:42 am, though in Bello Abdullahi's house, this was considered quite early, especially on weekends. Everyone was still cocooned in their rooms, snoozing away until around 11:00 am. However, I was the lone early riser. After performing my fajr prayer, I ventured downstairs to escape the chill that Jasra's mercilessly blasting AC had created. Surviving the Arctic-like night, I couldn't get back to sleep.

     Engrossed in an episode of Grey's Anatomy in the living room, I eventually decided to make myself a cup of tea. The cosiness of a warm cup of tea is unparalleled, after all. As I wrapped up preparing my soothing drink, I gathered my MacBook and books from the lounge and ascended the stairs, determined to convince Jasra to relent and turn off the AC. Sharing a room demanded mutual respect for temperature preferences.

     Upon entering our room, an unexpected sight greeted me. Jasra lay on the floor, contorting and clutching her lower abdomen. Sweat glistened on her forehead, and pain was evident in her expression. In my hurry to aid her, I hastily placed my tea and belongings on her nearby desk.

     "Jasra what's wrong?" I shake her shoulder's lightly and she groans loudly closing her eyes in response. I think she is cramping, but I don't know what to do. Maybe I should go and call mamma, but mama is in Abba's room or maybe Adda but…

     The loud cry that escapes her lips brings me out of the little debate going on in my head. "I will go call Mamma" I inform her that's if she was even listen or paying attention to what I was saying.

     I don't have time to decide who to call when I find myself infront of Abba's door. I knock thrice on the door but there is no answer, I knock again and still no reply. I should just go and call Adda. I turned to leave, only to have the door creak open, revealing Abba in a white jallabiya, clearly just roused from sleep.

      "Jam bamduna Abba" I greeted.

     "Jam ni (morning),what it is this early morning" he asked with a yawn, using the back of his hand to stifle it. Early morning? Does he have any idea what the time is right now?

     "It's jasra I proceeded to express my concern, "It's Jasra. I think she's experiencing intense cramps."

     Now wide awake, he said decisively, "I'm coming. Stay with her while I fetch your mother." I nodded as he closed the door behind him.

      Returning to the room, I found Jasra's distress had escalated. From mere groans, she had escalated to full-fledged sobs, writhing on the floor in pain. Tentatively approaching her, I acknowledged her agony, aware that her pain tolerance was low, rendering her nearly incapacitated by such discomfort.

     To offer some semblance of help, I resolved to fetch the hot pack—hoping it would at least provide a measure of relief. Darting to my closet, I swiftly retrieved the hot pack. Just as I emerged, Mamma and Abba entered the room in a timely fashion, as if orchestrated by fate.

     Without hesitation, Abba rushed to Jasra's side, expertly halting her erratic movements. Seated on the floor, he cradled her gently, his voice a soothing balm. "Shhh…my princess, it's okay," he whispered, his hand tenderly rubbing her back in a continuous, calming rhythm.

     Tears flowed as Jasra confessed, "Abba…it hurts…a lot." She sought refuge, burying her face in his chest."I know, my dear. Where?" Abba's voice was a comforting anchor, his hand gently maneuvered toward her lower abdomen—where she had been clutching tightly.