ABUJA,
NIGERIA.
NARRATOR'S POV
In the wide, white-walled sanctuary of Maymun's room, the air hung heavy with despair.
She sat huddled in a corner, her head buried between her knees, her hands covering her head as if to shield herself from an unseen storm.
Her baby lay on the bed, wailing incessantly, the cries piercing through the stillness, yet she couldn't muster the strength to reach out.
"Just because you're royalty doesn't mean I can't discipline you," Habib, her husband, sneered, placing the belt he had used on the center table, a grim trophy amidst the two chairs by the window.
His voice dripped with a twisted mix of anger and mockery.
"Darling, I'm sorry, but you made me angry, and I couldn't hold back," he said, approaching her.
His words were a vile caress, attempting to smooth over the violence.
"Don't you dare lay your filthy hands on me," she spat, moving away, her face still hidden.
But Habib, undeterred, reached out as if nothing had happened.
"Dear, please," he murmured, his touch a reminder of his betrayal.
"Don't touch me!" she screamed, her voice a raw, wounded animal's cry.
Her face, smeared with tears, blood, mucus, and sweat, was a testament to her suffering.
Her upper lip was grotesquely swollen, a mocking balloon of flesh.
"I told you not to argue. Always be a good girl.
Now come to your beloved," he said, his voice a chilling blend of command and endearment, following her as she ran around the room.
"I'm tired of all this, Habib.
I can't take your animalistic behaviour anymore," she declared, her voice cracking under the weight of her pain and defiance.
"Just because I refused to ask Hakeem for the money you demanded doesn't mean you can lay your hands on me," she continued, her courage flickering in her eyes.
"Are you shouting at me, huh?" he roared, grabbing her hair with brutal force, eliciting a scream that echoed with desperation.
Summoning a surge of strength, she kicked him between the legs, sending him sprawling onto the bed.
Seizing the moment, Maymun scooped up her baby and snatched the car keys.
"Hakeem is surely going to see this," she vowed, her voice steely with resolve before fleeing the room.
Habib scrambled to his feet and chased after her, but she was already out of reach.
"I just asked for $10 million, that's all, Maymun. Why are you making a big deal out of it?" he bellowed, his voice reverberating through the corridor.
"I’m not going to be quiet anymore. I have to speak up, if not for me, then for my Ayra," she whispered fiercely to herself as she started the car.
Little Ayra, securely placed in the passenger seat, played innocently with her toes, oblivious to the turmoil surrounding her.
---
EL-BAAZ MANSOR,
KANO,
NIGERIA
At the El-Baz Mansor, a sombre silence enveloped Ammi and Hakeem as they sat side by side on her bed.
The weight of unspoken words pressed down on them until Ammi finally broke the quiet.
"Van, my dear," she began, her voice tender and weary.
YOU ARE READING
Over and Over
FantasíaIn this book readers are drawn into the turbulent life of layla, a young woman burdened by her haunted past. As she tries to get a hold of her emotions she abruptly finds herself in an entangled love affair with the brother of her closest friend. De...
