The Juju Lady Next Door (Completed)

Prologue

Thursday, June 5th, 2014

     The words, My mummy is the best in the world–on a sky blue card, with a smiley face beside it, and pinned to the refrigerator door–are the first things that greet my eyes as I step into the kitchen.

     I remove the card and trace my fingers along with the cute, scrawny handwriting.  Various emotions rush through me, warming up my heart and stretching my lips into a smile. Words cannot describe what I'm feeling. And even if they can, I do not need much, for only one will suffice love. 

     These eight words mean so much more to me than the five-year-old writer had intended. For her, It is merely a declaration. But for me, it's my redemption, my consolation, a sign that I may have been forgiven, that I may have a chance to finally regain my freedom from the prison of my own making. 

  •••

     While tapping my phone, I make my way towards the living room.  I glance at the wall clock across from me, which shows that I have just four hours to myself before my husband and daughter's return. 

      My daughter: the thought of her never fails to bring me to a pause.  I lean back against the green and black sofa and close my eyes, letting in the locked emotions and memories. Thanks to my darling's little but profound message, I can now feel the air of freedom. You may wonder why I take this to heart, but if you've ever spent years disguising a blessing for punishment out of profound guilt, then perhaps, you'd understand. 

     Releasing a shaky breath, I do the one thing I have been terrified of doing for over a year now:I dial her number. 

     "Assalamu alaikum ma'am." A soft, familiar voice greets.

     "Wa alike salaam dear," I replied and cleared my throat to hide my nervousness. 

     "I'm surprised you're calling so early in the morning,"  she says, "I'm surprised you're even calling at all." 

     "I am too, but I'm glad," I chuckle and take a deep breath." I'm ready. I want to do it. How fast can you get here before I chicken out?" I blurt out quickly. 

•••

     Once she arrives, she settles down across from me, "Are you sure?" She asks, her hand poised over the black laptop bag on her lap. I nod.

     "Just want to make sure you're in, 100%, no going back." She watches me, waiting. 

     "Yes, I am. Let’s hurry, please," 

      She nods and unzips the bag to take out a thick hardcover notebook and a pen. "Okay, I'm ready." 

     I sit up, lick my lower lip, then begin, "It all began ten years ago, long before the birth of young Barakah, and even longer, before I became the Juju lady next door…”