Scarred For Life

Chapter 38

*
The days leading up to Afrah's return to Kano were a blur. She didn't remember most of it. Just bits and pieces which didn't matter in the grand scheme of things.

They left Abuja two days after she had received the message. Her father insisted that the entire family would go, so they had to wait for his schedule to clear up. He understood that Afrah was hurting, and she needed her family at a time like that.

The flight was quickly forgotten, as was the drive to her uncle's house. She faintly remembered the feeling of her aunt's arms around her as she hugged her and cried. Maryam had been like a daughter to her, sometimes coming to the house while Afrah was on holiday so she could keep her company. She alone understood the emotions Afrah was going through.

They went to the house the very next day. Afrah had gotten up early to get dressed. She chose a black abaya, not just because it felt like the right color to wear, but because Maryam always teased her about her wardrobe having only those.

The family house was filled with people when they arrived. Mats had been spread out in front, and people were sitting everywhere. A few had been spread across the street, and these were occupied as well. Afrah noted how only a few people actually looked like they were mourning. The rest were talking loudly about everything beneath the sky. Her father greeted a few men, offering his condolences to them.

Maryam's mother was sitting in the courtyard when they entered. She looked up with her eyes red and swollen, and rushed towards Afrah with her arms outstretched.

"My baby girl," she sobbed as she threw her arms around her neck. It was unclear who she meant the words for, but Afrah was not going to ask her about it. She focused on the hug instead; one which she would remember until the day she died.

It was the hug of a mother; the kind no one could ever replicate. The numbness she felt in her heart dissipated slowly, to be replaced by the hurt and pain she had been running from since she found out. Afrah hugged her back, letting the grief consume her whole. Her tears were silent, though she shook more violently than Maryam's mother.

It hurt. More than she would ever have imagined. Never before had she have to face the reality of letting a loved one go. Maryam was more than just a friend; she was like the sister Amina could never be. The pain felt most intense when she realized that she would never get to see her again. She would never again hear her voice as she scolded her for coming to class late or putting off an assignment until the last minute.

She remembered every single moment they had together. The long nights she spent in the library with her was as vivid as the faces she saw now, and she forced herself to cling on to the memories. They were all she had left of her now.

"I miss her," her mother confessed once they got settled enough to enter the living room.

"You should pray for her," Afrah's mother said, placing a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "It's the only thing we can do for them after they're gone."

Afrah looked around at the living room, noticing that all of Maryam's photos had been taken down. Her brother's photos remained, but even their family portrait was gone.

"I couldn't bear to see her everyday," her mother said, noticing her eyes sweeping across the room. "The pictures keep reminding me of her, and the grief always tears me in half whenever I see her face."

"You shouldn't have taken them down," Afrah said quietly. Her voice sounded strange, even to her ears. She hadn't spoken in days, mostly letting her tears do the talking for her.

"You shouldn't have taken them down," she repeated, louder and firmer this time. "Maryam shouldn't be forgotten. You should remind yourself of her everyday. She deserves that."