Unedited
Abuja, Nigeria.
•AMNA
I woke up to the soft light filtering through the curtains, feeling the comforting weight of Aslam's arm draped over me. For a moment, everything seemed normal. But the moment I shifted, the dull ache in my body brought me back to reality. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for another day of trying to pretend everything is fine.
Aslam stirred beside me, his eyes opening to meet mine. He smiled, but he looked exhausted with eye bags under his sleepy eyes.
He pulled me closer, delicately as if I was an egg then buried his face in my neck, his stubble making me ticklish.
"Good morning," I whispered and yawned.
"My darling," he said in a gruff voice with a smile.
"How are you feeling?"
I managed a small smile, though it felt like a lie. "A bit better," I whispered. "Just... tired."
He kissed my forehead gently. "It's so early, only 9, let's sleep in, you need to rest."
We stayed quietly in bed and I drifted back to sleep only to be woken up by the ringing of my phone hours later, startled. 1:43pm and Aslam was no longer in bed. It was Ammi that was calling.
I cleared my throat and answered the phone, "Assalamu Alaikum Ammi, Ina wuni- good afternoon"
"Amna am, ya jikin ki? -how are you feeling?" She asked.
"Much better, Alhamdulillah."
"Allah ya kara sauki, I spoke with Maaman ki tace kina gidan in laws din ki koh?"
"Yes, eh."
"Toh shikenan, anjima zanzo, akwai abunda kikeso? Koh inyi miki pounded yam da egusi?" She asked.
"Haba Ammi, Ba komai, you coming is enough"
"Take care of yourself, kinji. Sai nazo."
I gathered the strength to make it to the bathroom. I closed the door behind me and leaned against it for a moment, trying to steady my breathing. Surprisingly, it had everything I needed, neatly arranged towels, 2 fluffy robes, toiletries and even different sizes of pads arranged on the shelf that I didn't notice yesterday but seeing them now, the care that went into preparing this space for me, brought a lump to my throat, I feel like I have been a burden to everyone lately.
I looked in the mirror and could barely recognise myself- so pale, now I understood why Aslam has become too delicate in handling me. I blinked back my tears and slowly undressed, touching my belly which carried a life for a couple of weeks without my knowledge.
Stepping into the shower, I felt the warm water cascade over me, washing away the remnants of sleep. But as I looked down and saw the faint traces of blood swirling down the drain, a wave of sorrow crashed over me. This wasn't just blood; it was our baby- the baby I couldn't keep. My tears mingled with the water streaming down my face, and I pressed my hand to my mouth to stifle the sobs that threatened to break free. The pain was overwhelming, a deep, aching void that seemed impossible to fill, two voids now. I leaned against the cool tiles, letting the water wash over me, wishing it could wash away the grief and the guilt that weighed so heavily on my heart.
How could I have not known? How could I have failed to protect this tiny life inside me?
I quickly scrubbed my body aggressively, I hated seeing my blood go down the shower drain. I wrapped myself in a towel and quickly dried off when I stepped out.
