The Silence Within

Chapter 65

You are a warrior in those times you had to fight your battles alone.

Had Lagos been a fashion style, it would be chic, always looking smart and striking. The city is up-to-date and voguish with close-fitting polished design that are pretty tasteful. Lagos is always on the go. There's something about the city that is thrilling. Had her freedom not been stolen from her, she would have sightsaw every corner of the city and find its secrets. Lagosians have an ecstasy in their blood that puts a spring in their steps and keeps them going no matter what. There's no room for sluggishness in Lagos. Perhaps, there's something in the atmosphere or land or in the water that makes it adventurous and perilous. Yet, no matter what happens, it won't collapse.

Abuja would be the sophisticated fashion style. Everything is at best quality. It shrouds a garment that presents a statement on the class and cultured approach. Most of its inhabitants are people of higher status. The affluent standard of living of Nigerian politicians and their families are displayed. On the exterior, she is perfection. Everyone's awed by her breath taking appearance unaware of the imperfection she hides beneath. But if you should look well, through the carefully masked fissure, you will find out she is not as polished as she appears to be. The city is like an ajebo, spoilt rich kid, who does not know the real deal about life. It's the kind of place for relaxation, away from one's busy life style.

Lagos is for everyone, the poor, the middle class and the rich. It accommodates them because it can cater for them. There is a rush in the air, an invisible force that keeps it moving. Beneath everything is an underlining fear for nothing is impossible on Lagos' streets. The traffic jam in Lagos is an everyday thing a Lagosians must get used to. Its roads are narrow, congested, scattered with hawkers and mendicants of different kinds. Abuja is easy going. You can take your time in carrying out your business and still get a good result at the end of the day. The roads in Abuja are wide, much less crowded, cleaner and free. She realised in Abuja, she can visits ten places in one day without fear of getting stuck in traffic jam. But, Abuja is not for everyone. You can only enjoy the city if you are loaded in the pocket. Despite the differences, she still loves Lagos. Had she not been looking for a quiet life, she would have stayed in Lagos.

Haseenah's had finally gotten used to her new life as a widow and an orphan. It's amusing and relaxing. A life she knew she has control of. There's no one telling her what to do and what not to do. Besides, she's meeting new people. Her so called family had not tried to reach out to her. They actually do not care about where she has ran to in the world. They do not mind if she's dead. She is sure of it; that no one cares enough to look for her. There was a time the realisation would have hurt her, twisted her gut like she has a knife in it but now, she does not feel the unbearable pain in her chest any more. The world made her this way. The life she lived moulded her into something she never thought she would be, heartless and cold. But she had been a victim. A victim of every form of abuse, of someone's slander, people's spiteful gaze, their disdain and of cold nights she wept alone nearly ending her own life for it had no meaning. She found out she could give meaning to her life by erasing the life they had chosen for her and create a new one for herself. A life where she's loved and accepted, where she will find inner peace. There's no need to wake up in the morning, dreading the day that was yet to begin. There had been days she tried to close her eyes so hard, just hoping that when she wakes, it will all be a dream, a nightmare.

Ahmad's mother is sticking her nose where she shouldn't. She should be mourning her son's death but she's so keen on knowing why Ahmad transferred all his properties to his wife. That wife had not even bore him a child. Four years of marriage and there was nothing to show from it. The woman smells foul play. But then everyone had tried to make her understand that Ahmad and his wife were so much in love. It was what they should all have expected. Haseenah scoffed. Love? She never knew what that word meant when she was with Ahmad. It does exists. She's sure it was what she felt for him. Her feelings were true, unrestricted but what had she gotten from it? Pain! Haseenah yawned, slouching in the couch. Why can't they just let her be? They share no relationship any longer. She has severed all her old relationships except the one she shares with Lola, the one she trusts and knows will keep her secret. A man in his right senses will not transfer all his property into his wife's name, the woman had claimed. He can give her something but not all of it. Ahmad's mother was right. Ahmad was not in his right senses. He had not been in the right state of mind. In fact, he was under the influence of a drug she had put in his drink. He had been drowsy, uttering incoherent words when she handed the pen to him and told him to sign. And it was that wealth she enjoys very well. After years of pain, anger and suffering, it was the best thing she could have. His wealth was the consolation she needed, a compensation he gave without knowing. The woman had not ended there. She said Haseenah had to complete her Iddah to confirm she is not carrying her son's child. Haseenah laughed. A child? That's so impossible. She had ensured that did not happen. The woman just have to dream on and keep waiting.