THE DREAMS OF MY Mother Episode 1

in story •  7 years ago  (edited)


photo-1518573484273-eb277fe4b036.jpeg photo by Bruce Christianson on unsplash

He was running as fast as his legs could carry him, the house was just ahead. He could see the lights of the house, the curtains were drawn, and the inhabitants of the house were probably asleep, unaware of the terror about to be visited on them. He was able to get in front of the ivory painted gate now, and he began shouting on the top of his voice.

“Help, Help, wake up” he yelled at the top of his voice. But a shot rang out, and he was still gazing at the lit balcony of the house, when he felt a pain rip through him, he held his throat as blood spurted out of it. Before he fell to the ground, he saw a young woman come out to the balcony, he wanted to warn her, but the darkness enveloped him, and the world blacked out…
Twenty Years ago

“Subhanallah! What am I going to do now, my father will disown me” Khadijat said aloud as she looked at the food she had just eaten and thrown up in the toilet sink. For the past few days she had been throwing away her food because the smell of food made her feel queasy. But she made sure she threw it away in the central dustbin because if her mother found out that, she was throwing away food, she would become inquisitive and then her secret would be out.

But how long was she going to hide it? She pondered as she thought of her predicament. Khadijat was the only daughter of the Imam Hassan of the central mosque in Oshogbo. The Imam had about seven sons, but they were all grown-up and married, with their families in different cities. Khadijat was just 18 and had just gotten admission into the University. However she had begun to see the Christian boy, Damilola, in the next flat. This was unknown to her father, who spent all his waking hours at the mosque, and her mother, who was up as early as 4am to buy drums of palm oil from the market which she would sell at her shop at wholesale prices.
photo-1519716618908-02d0040b0f4b.jpeg
Photo by Qasim Sadie on unsplash

When Khadijat had missed her monthly visitor, she had told Damilola who had convinced that perhaps her monthly visitor was late this time. But something had told Khadijat that the secret play she played with Damilola had brought out result and landed her in trouble. She waited a few more weeks and when her monthly visitor did not come, she knew for sure that she was in trouble. She again, intimated Damilola about the development, and he had advised her to get a pregnancy test home kit. But even before Khadijat saw the two red lines on the strip she had urinated on, she had known she was pregnant. The cramps, the tenderness in her b----t and even the queasiness had told her that she was with child.

Her world had crumbled when Damilola had told her that he was traveling to India to study Medicine and cannot be responsible for a child.
“Besides, I am not the only one you were sleeping with” he had said to her that fateful evening that she had told him she was pregnant. Khadijat had slapped him so hard across the face and had walked back to their flat. She had stayed away from him for days, hoping that he would come back to his senses. Had he not said that he loved her, and was ready to convert to Islam, for her sake? Then why would he say a thing like that to her? Surely, he would come back to his senses, he is probably afraid of such a huge responsibility, she made excuses for him.


Photo by Lucille Zimmerman, Licensed Professional Counselor - Author

But for days, Damilola did not attempt to meet her, she did not even see him at the balcony where they usually met. So she summoned courage and went to his house to ask for him. There, she was given the shocker of her life, Damilola had already traveled out of the country.
Damilola’s mother: “Are you alright, you look pale” she asked, looking at the young girl, with the hijab covering her head. She wondered though, what her son was doing with the Muslim girl. She was beautiful for sure, but her son would not dare have anything to do with an unbeliever.
Khadijat: “I am alright ma’am” she said and turned to go, but she stopped and asked, “Is there any way I can reach him, I really need to talk to him” she said and this time she could not stop the tears from spilling over.
Damilola’s mother: “Oh no, what is going on now?” she asked, with her heart hammering in her chest because, somehow she knew even before Khadijat opened her mouth to say anything. The young girl explained to this Christian woman that she had an affair with her son and now she was pregnant.

Khadijat had begged Damilola’s mother not to tell her parents yet, as she was not ready to break the news to them. But she knew she could not hide it forever, so she decided it was time to open up and face the consequences. She decided she would wait until her father was back from the mosque and her mother, from the market. That evening, she went to the next flat to tell Damilola’s mother that it was time to intimate her parents about her pregnancy. They were both talking by the door when they heard a voice.
Who did you think owns the voice.

To be continued.


my dear readers, do visit again to read the next part of this interesting story. Thanks for stopping by.


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