Can You Trust Me Again?

5: HIS DECISION

The insurgency set in at Maiduguri. At that time Maimuna was 8 months pregnant, preparing for final year exams. Luqman was somewhere in the UK. I was nowhere to be found in Nigeria, although I was desperately planning to come back. He decided that his cousin Zuhair stay at the house till Maimuna completed her examinations. A relative and Abidah were to stay with her. That was his own decision, of which was the cause of the drastic turn in their whole lives...

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Whenever the terrorists trooped, Zuhair aided escape to the safest location. He was passionately good in all that, and only he could achieve such level of safety with passion--all for his brother, whom he loved so deeply.

We spoke from time to time with Ladi the little maid. She was my third eye. She made mention of Abidah's attraction towards Zuhair. And Zuhair--a young man must have fallen for it. Afterall she was a beautifully bodied woman. Tall, fair skinned, bold eyes, confident walk. She wore heavy-makeup which fitted her round face. She was as well chubby and flamboyant. Came from Nouveau riche political home and had the fame and attention. And above all, she was wise with words. An amateur seductress, I had to term her.

When Maimuna was done with the examinations, she was beyond relieved. She was happy. She left Maiduguri finally, to birth the child. Zuhair transferred his office to Abuja, and coincidentally, a day before the delivery date, Abidah and her family relocated permanently to the same state. This meant the trio were in the same vicinity. Close. In contact.

Luqman left the UK for a week. He came to name his child. The couple were once more reunited and very much in love.

My madame ma'Zulaihat was locked up in her apartment, with a smoke between her fingers, in distress.

Upon my arrival to Nigeria, I met with her, spent time to cheer her up. It seemed the boy married his love and let go of his mother.

'That is the perks of having a male child,.' She told me as she gave a frustrated laugh and took her sleeping pills.

"Take him to his grandmother, please."

"Luqman, you know I dont want Abdulmajeed with your mother," she hissed. His eyes widened.

"Why is that?" he exclaimed, "Why would you even say that,"

"Maa Smokes you know that,"

"What does that have to do with AbdulMajeed?" he was embarassed, heartbroken.

Later at night, I found him in the garden giving a frustrated cry.

"Omma, she called Maa 'my mother,'" he complained, tears streaming down. "She called her 'my mother,' she doesn't even want the little boy near my mother!"

"Forgive me," I was as well saddened.

"Why? Why is she doing her best to annoy me these days?" he continued, "I have changed her car, I have chosen her desired place for NYSC, I have changed her furniture, why all these?"

I consoled him, promising to speak to her cunningly about it.

"Don't. There's no need."

I agreed in front of him, but my mouth was not going to keep shut, I knew that.

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"What kind of grandmother would live for months without visiting her child and wife?" Abidah scoffed, peeling oranges with her long nails.

"I wonder. I haven't met her, but I hear you say she's a rich of a woman. You know these wealthy powerful women never have time for their families,"

My ears were unfortunate to witness such disastrous wordings. And surprisingly, Luqman was just behind me. He had acted faster in approaching the curtains to unveil the utterers of such horrible believes. He was fast in entering, I in talking.

"What gives you such right to say things like that?!" I exclaimed, my voice shaky. How dare they, above all—false allegations! Ma'Zulaihat was nothing like that!

They were silent—caught right in the act, nothing to say. Nothing to add. Luqman was angry, he left without saying a thing. He had always been like that since I knew him. His anger hits a certain bar—and his tongue goes numb for words. He only exits the scene. Evidently, it was Abidah and another of his wife's friend conversing comfortable in his 5 bedroom apartment.

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He warned her before he left for the UK. To quit contacting her friends, and to let go of such company. To my surprise, she still kept them as friends. She apologized to me. And felt bad—yes she did. However I couldn't stand them. I left to my own abode for a break from all the drama. No one dared to make such untrue expressions in front of me. I am old now, however still agile.

Maimuna called me one day, "Omma I want to visit Maa."

I was happy. We planned for Friday, after Jumma'aa. AbdulMajeed was dressed nicely in his Friday Kaftan. We set for the mansion.

Ma'Zulaihat although in a bad mood welcomed us, as friendly as she could be, offered cakes and poured tea into her wealthy cups herself. She hadn't smoked in front of her grandchild and his mother. She never plans to I think.

"The weather is violent." She commenced a conversation, wearing her spectacles. "Yesterday the wind was so fierce that it tempered with my satellite dish. Now I'm stuck, I can't watch a thing on TV."

"That's terrible. August terrifies me, mama."

"August is alright, my dear. Its just the silly dish setters. Can't set things right. Even TV is difficult for them,"

"You have to call them,"

I was happy the conversation was going smoothly. Ma'Zulaihat played with her grandchild. Alhamdulilah, things were going okay. There needed to be bond between ma'Zulaihat and Maimuna, or else she would be lonely for the rest of her life. You could even sense the dislike she felt towards Maimuna for whirling her son up in a hurricane that took him away from her for long. Yet she still accepted Maimuna, and was super nice to her.

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The grandchild met his grandma again one month later. And I heard them say that Zuhair was getting married.

We were conversing about Luqman's arrival from the UK, stipulated for 4 months from then. Then I understood whom Zuhair was getting wedded to. A girl whom he met, affiliated still to ma'Zulaihat's den. Infact dramatically, he had come across her at ma'Zulaihat's gate when she had come to run an errand by her aunt.

"Nice girl she is, Alice," she told me. Only she called me Alice. "Very nice girl. She lives with her uncle and the wife. Mother is married to another man."

"I see."

"She had come to bring me an item I had bought from the aunt. The aunt comes here from time to time to say hi. They relocated here not too long ago."

"Ma sha Allah, may we witness the day,"

I was curious in knowing Abidah's reaction.

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