Breath

A Month After Malam Garba Collapsed.

There were little cracks on the wall close to the ceiling and she believed that before the rainy season was over, the ceiling would start leaking. The man atop her closed his eyes in an euphoria known to him alone as he thrust deeper into her body.

Thrusting into her body.

The thought almost made her retch from disgust. Hot tears pooled in her eyes and when she closed her lids, the tears ran free. After a few more minutes, the man grunted and collapsed off her. The room reeked of sweat and a new smell; the smell of sex. Fatee started crying and curled herself into a fetal position, nursing the wounds in her soul that would never heal. The man exhaled a few more times and stood up to pull on his boxers. He dressed and patted his potbelly, apparently satisfied with what he’d just gotten. He stared at the girl and sighed. She didn’t belong here, even he knew that.

Feeling guilt stretching its vines to capture his heart, he shook his head to get rid of them. Whatever her reason was to be here, it didn’t concern him.

“Here, take this and hide it for yourself,” He dropped a thick wad of one thousand naira notes. “Don’t let Hajiya Bash know about it. Consider it a tip for…”

‘For being the one to take your virginity’ But he couldn’t say that, could he? Throwing one last glance at the weeping girl, he shook his head again and closed the door gently behind him. Fatee broke down into louder sobs, her body trembled and her vision blurred.

The door opened and she shuddered thinking it was another man, but sighed of relief and pain when she saw her roommate, Lailah, the one who showed her this path.

“Shh,” Lailah consoled. “It’s okay now. Here, Hajiya has given me the money.” she produced three thicker wads of money, they seemed to be more than three hundred thousand. “It’s all okay now, it’s all over and you can go back to life as it was, it’s okay.”

But Fatima knew, just as Lailah knew too, that life would never go back to what it used to be, not after today.

06/10/18

The Day Malam Garba Collapsed.

Lafia had never felt so hot. Fatee wiped her face with her palm, cursing the fact that she’d left her handkerchief on the mattress, after she’d put it there not to forget. The bus swayed and almost lost balance, but Fatee went with curve undisturbed. She was used to this already and she knew when and how to bend her body when the bus entered the potholes.

“Oya!” The conductor yelled as the bus came to a sudden stop. “Make everybody commot. This na last bus stop.”

The other passengers started to argue. They didn’t pay 700 naira to drop by the main road, but the driver wasn’t ready for any of that.

Wallahi tallahi, I go turn my motor return persin for Keffi. I no get time for una surutu.” He cursed and spat.

Fatee stepped down and winced as the sun slapped her harshly. Reaching into her small handbag, she almost yelled in frustration. She forgot to get her sunglasses back from Lailah. Now who’s suffering the blunt end? An okada man stopped and lowered his glasses to look at her.

Hajiya, you dey go?”

Fatee nodded. “Angwan Doka

“Hundred Naira.”

“Seventy dai Malam.”

He nodded and she climbed on.

As they rode, the sand in the wind kept giving light pecks that left her eyes watering. Fatee watched the streets wondering if there were changes while she was gone. In front of the black doors at their destination, the Okada stopped and handed Fatee a worn out twenty naira note, and two squeezed five naira notes quite contrary to the almost new hundred naira note she gave him.

Fatee felt cheated.

Salaamu Alaikum” She knocked at the familiar door and waited. A few minutes passed and no one answered the door.

This isn’t right Fatee mused.

Akwai mutum a gidan nan?” The silence gave her an answer that there was nobody in the house.

She dropped her bags and went round the to the kitchen’s window where the spare key was always kept but there was nothing.

“Who is there?”

Fatee jumped and nearly screamed at the sudden voice in her ear. She relaxed when she saw their neighbour, Maman Nura.

“They are not at home” Maman Nura dished out after they exchanged pleasantries. “They have gone to the hospital. Your father has collapsed again.”

Fatima’s blood went cold. The way maman Nura said it so passively, as if her father collapsing was something she was used to, suffocated her.

She blinked a few more times, collecting herself together.

“Again?”

The word itself sounded funny.

“Did you say my father has collapsed again? Since when has Baba been collapsing? Why wasn’t I aware of it even once?”

Maman Nura took a tentative step back. She seemed to have realise she uttered the wrong words.

“I didn’t know you were not aware ai yar nan. They have gone to specialist hospital.”

She waved her hands in an over exaggerated manner that smelt of dishonesty.

“Baban Nura drove them over in his napep…”

Fatee didn’t wait to listen and ran out the house, to the main road where she flagged down a bike and didn’t mind when the man said seventy naira. She’d always hated hospitals. They smelt of pain, blood, helplessness, and of death. Of her mother as she withered and died.

As she made her way to a nurse to ask, her heart in mouth, someone tapped her shoulder.

“Sister”

Fatee sighed in relief when she saw it was her youngest sibling, Amina.

“Where is Baba? Maman Nura said he collapsed again. What happened to him? Why didn’t you call me even once to let me know? Let’s go, take me to him now.”

“Yousuf is in the police cell,” Amina, the last born of the three siblings said, ignoring her barrage of questions. “He was arrested today and that is why Baba had a stroke.”

Amina turned her back and fatee felt there was more to it than just hiding her tears.

She tried to hold her hand but the younger sister declined, snatching her hands back.

“I hope you have come with money? We need fifty thousand naira to bail him out.”

Fifty thousand!

Her heart sank as her eyes rolled in mental calculations.

“We should go to the bank, I have a bit of money there. We’ll see what we can do.”

The money she had been saving for her project when the semester resumed. That didn’t matter now, family always came first.

***

The trip to the bank and back to the station was a short one that they made after Fatee looked at their sleeping father. At the station, she broke down in tears when she saw him, her younger brother who had always been protective of her like he was the older one.

“What happened to you Yousuf? How did you get in here?”

She was scared to even touch him as most of his body, save for his face, had scars, some of which were still bleeding. Yousuf looked away.

“Amina called you here didn’t she? I had everything under control.” He said finally.

A snort came from behind Fatee. She didn’t need to turn to see the mockery on Amina’s face.

Together, the three of them returned to their small home and sat in the parlour engrossed in their thoughts. Fatima went to the kitchen to prepare a meal and boil water for Yousuf’s scars but was shocked to find an empty kitchen. The stove was as dry as a new one. There was no rice, beans, or anything at all.

“Amina is there no kerosene in the house?”

“There is no food Fatima. There is nothing in this house which is why your brother was taken into custody today again, and why baba had a stroke today,”Amina sneered, the veins in her neck throbbed. “But you wouldn’t know that would you?” She added with malice.

Amina’s shoulders slumped and she kept her gaze on the window.

“You are the princess of this family, Mama’s lookalike, and that is why you are superior.”

“Don’t talk to her like that.” Yousuf interjected. “None of this is her fault”

“It isn’t?” Amina screeched and jumped to him. “Why are we spending another extra year at home? Why do we never have enough to eat? Why has Baba been taking debts that have landed you in the cell three times now? Why do we have to suffer all this? You and him are both too blind playing favouritism, so blind that you are willing to ignore what you see clearly.”

With each question, her body trembled and she stabbed a finger into Yousuf’s chest.

Fatee looked at him, expecting an answer, but all she got was an exasperated sigh. Her shoulders slumped and she held her head in her arms.

All of this was her fault. Her sibling repeating a year, never having enough food, debts always rolling in. That meant all the money her Baba sent her, with pleas to concentrate on her studies and stay away from home as much as she could was to keep her in the dark. But she couldn’t blame him, could she? Not when the lies, the hidden truth, and every thing was done for her. She raised her head and looked at her two siblings; Yousuf had Amina in his arms whose sobs pierced Fatee’s heart.

She felt like an outsider at that minute. But maybe four years of university at their sacrifice made her one.

“And Baba? What did the doctor say about him?” She begged.

“The doctors said he needs a surgery. Three hundred thousand naira or he will be paralysed forever.” Anima replied between sobs.

Fatima blinked away tears and put her two hands over her head. Three hundred thousand? Where would they get that kind of sum?

Their parents were Ethiopian immigrants and growing up, they knew nobody, no relative or family member. It was just them. The grumbling sounds that came from Yousuf’s stomach reminded Fatee of her own hunger. She hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast.

“I have some money in my purse, Amina please go buy some kerosene and a little something we can eat tonight.”

Amina looked reluctant at first, as though she intended on refusing. A nod from Yousuf changed her mind and she accepted the money without looking at Fatee.

“Don’t take her words to heart,” Yousuf consoled, leaning closer to her. “You know Amina, she is just being emotional.”

Fatima smiled. “Of course, I understand” But she did understand, just how much pain she’d caused her family.

She looked at Yousuf closely, he looked too matured for his age and a guilt settled in her chest. She’d pushed them too far.

As soon as she convinced him to take five hundred naira to go have his wounds cleaned, she settled back against the couch, too tired to cry.

Dinner was a hot meal of jollof without meat or fish, yet as Fatee watched her siblings devour it like it was the best food they’d had in months, her heart broke into smaller pieces. She had to find a way to make it better. They sat in silence, just as they’d been doing since their return from the hospital earlier.

They didn’t get to see Malam Garba who was still in the ICU. He needed surgery and he needed it desperately.

“Where do you intend on getting the money from?” Yousuf questioned, narrowing his eyes at her and she looked away.

As the years went by, this younger brother assumed the older sibling’s role himself.

“I told you already,” she answered a little to quickly. “The state is giving scholarships to students with good grades and I will apply for student’s loan as well.”

“You jest sister,” Amina scoffed, obviously not buying it. “A state that fails to pay its workers properly is giving students over a hundred thousand naira?”

“Enough!” She snapped, her short temper getting the best of her. “I will be going back to see what I can get. Just wait for me and don’t get into any trouble.”

Her eyes rested on Yousuf and his jaw hardened. Ignoring the way her stomach gnawed on its empty walls, she held his gaze until he looked away.

Good.

She still had authority.

Hunger pinched her again but she ignored it. She had just enough to get her back to school and not one naira more. Her siblings walked her to the main road where she took a bike to the garage and started her journey back to Keffi.

***

Nassarawa State University, Keffi, was as busy as it could ever be. Students running their masters or part-time studies went up and down as usual, but Fatee had no time to admire them. She dropped in front of the hostel gates and handed the napep driver a twenty naira note. Delimi could be called empty. Most rooms were locked, owners gone home for the weekend or out taking a chill. Fatee sighed in relief when she felt her key in her purse and unlocked her room. She looked at her bunk, the bed well laid and neat. Dragging her small bags under the bunk, she flopped on the bed and let sleep take her into its embrace, escaping the thoughts that held her hostage.

Fatee woke with a yawn when her roommates returned with a noise, knocking the door loudly.

“Oyoyo!” Lailah, her bunky jumped on her and they fell back onto the small mattress together. Fatee groaned.

“Get off me, otondo.

Lailah laughed and sat next to her.

The other two girls were undressing. Under their lengthy hijabs, they had just tights and spaghetti tops that barely covered their cleavages. Zainab, a tall Yoruba woman reached inside her tights and removed notes of 1000 naira that made Fatima’s mouth water, and she thought of her siblings whom she’d left with only a thousand naira.

“Zee, where this one comot from?” Sifon, the Calabar lady asked what had been on the tip of Fatima’s tongue.

Zee laughed and slapped her thighs.

“You know me naw, I no dey carry last.”

The two girls laughed in understanding and clapped their hands together.

“So why are you back two days earlier?” Lailah called Fatee back to herself as she too, began to lessen the clothes on her body.

She removed the long hijab, and the abaya she had on. The clothes under them were even more exposing than the ones Zee had on. Fatee looked away. She knew the kind of lifestyles her roommates lived and she was never okay with. But these girls helped her in more ways than one, she couldn’t afford to walk away from them.

Not yet, but soon, she hoped.

“Let’s go to the faculty and talk there.”

Fatee trusted Lailah most. Aside from her promiscuous ways, Lailah could be a responsible woman when she wanted and Fatee had known her longest.

“It’s my father.” She broke down as soon as they were seated in the lecture theatre. She proceeded to give Lailah all the gist, leaving out her siblings’ isolation.

Lailah sighed and closed her eyes. “I wonder why this sort of things happen to people like you Fatee.” She muttered.

The lecture theatre remained quiet, save for the creaking of the old fans.

“I am sorry,” Lailah draped a hand over shoulder and pulled her close. “I do not have enough money, and I have responsibilities too. But I know somewhere you can earn that or even more in a short time.”

Fatee sat up immediately.

“Where? Tell me, Lailah, please.”

Lailah looked away.

“I am not sure you will want it.” She replied.

Fatee laughed, a cynical thing that conveyed her desperation.

“Is there any choice for a beggar?” Tears were starting to pool in her eyes again. “Whatever it is, I am willing to do it.”

“It is what we do, at Hajiya Bash’s emporium,” Lailah said and flicked a glance at her. “You know what it is, don’t you?”

Of course she knew Hajiya Bash’s emporium. A well known “ladies’ house”, where rich men patronised.

“Is there not something better?” Fatee tried to make her tone sound casual. “I can not go there, it would mean losing my honour.”

Lailah snorted and stood up. “I didn’t know honour could pay bills too. Why don’t you go settle your father’s and siblings’ bills with your honour?”

She made her way to the door and Fatee rushed after her. It wasn’t Lailah’s fault, she was just trying to help after all.

“I will think about it.” She tried to pacify, even though she had every intention to toss it outside her head that very moment. Lailah was a good friend, one she’d still like to keep.

“I don’t want you doing this either. It breaks me to speak of it too,” Lailah responded with furrowed brows and arms folded on her chest. “I am not doing it because I love it Fatee. My father lost his job when the state cut back on its workers and there are seven of us in my mother’s room, ten in the other.”

Fatee was shocked. She didn’t expect Lailah to tell her the secrets of her family.

“How can an unemployed man cater for seventeen children and two wives? I am the first daughter of my mother who is illiterate. Six lives depend on me. I feed my mother and siblings, Fatee, I pay their fees and even my father’s rehabilitation fees.”

Fatee gasped and clasped a palm over her mouth then she wondered why she felt surprised.

“Yes, Fatee,” Lailah nodded. “My father is battling an addiction. He is a drug addict.”

Fatima sighed and sat down on the floor, not minding the dust. Until that moment, she had always believed that the women who got into prostitution were drawn by the glamour and materialistic things in it. She realised most of them had no choice. Pushed by the people they called leaders, they fell into a bottomless pit that only a few of them managed to crawl out from.

“I —I will think about it” she stuttered, defeat finding a home in her chest. Lailah held out a hand to her and pulled her up. Together, they walked back to the hostel in silence.

***

Amina slowly pushed the door close. She tiptoed a few distance far from their house, then she broke into a run, shoes in hand. Once she was a safe distance from the house, she dropped her shoes and leaned against a wall catching her breath. It was a dark night, clouds of rain allying with themselves. She looked around, worried there was no one there. Fear started to seep into her, there was not a single soul out there.

“My love.” someone said behind her and she jumped. She smiled when she saw it was him.

“Have you been waiting long? Were you scared?”

She shook her head.

All that didn’t matter now that he was there. He took her hand in his and laced their fingers together gently.

“Amina, you know I love you right? You know I want to marry you once I am done with my degree at the end of this year, and immediately after the elections right?”

Amina nodded her head, a sudden warmth spreading through her whole body. He loved her.He intended to marry her. He didn’t mind that she was poor and he was wealthy.

“Then why didn’t you tell me that your father was sick? And that he needed a certain amount to get his surgery?” He dropped her hand and turned his back on her. “Is that how little I mean to you?”

Fear gripped Amina. “No, Ali. Please don’t say that. You have done a lot for me and my family, I didn’t want to burden you any more.”

She started to cry, she didn’t want him to be angry.

Ali had been the one who made discover her true self, made her feel special, and put her as a top priority in his eyes, where her brother and father were too busy falling at Fatee’s feet. She offloaded her secrets and problems to him, things she never told Yousuf or anybody else. Ali was her sanctuary, and she would be lost without him.

“Oh dear Amina” he turned and embraced her tightly, her breasts squished against his chest.

Amina blushed.

She wasn’t wearing a bra.

“You will never be a burden for me. Allow me to be a part of you, a part of your family. Let me share your problems and your sadness. Please, sweet Amina.”

She melted against him, barely hearing his words as his hands caressed her arms, her waist, and reached under her hijab and shirt to caress her bare back with his cold fingers.

“Will you let me show you, Amina? Let me show you just how much I love you?”

Every woman’s honour is her virginity, unless fate has taken it from her.’

Her father’s words played themselves in her head and her control snapped back, jumping out of his arms.

“Ali, I love you too, but what you mean isn’t right. It’s for married people.”

Ali laughed. “Oh Amina, this is why I love you so much. Your naivety and innocence, I am sure no man has had you before. This is the 21st century, we can still get married.”

He took her hands again and rubbed her fingers gently

“Please, Amina, let me do this just once I promise.”

She snatched her hands away

“Good night, Ali. I’m going home.” She replied, uncomfortable with what was going on.

“I don’t think so.” Ali said.

All that Amina saw next was darkness.

A Month After Malam Garba Collapsed.

“This is Hajiya Bash. Hajiya, this is Mirah, my friend” Lailah introduced and Hajiya Bash smiled coyly, her eyes seemed to be undressing Fatee who squirmed where she stood.

They agreed not to use her real name as it was something she intended to do once, no more.

“You have full breasts” was the first thing hajiya Bash said to Fatee then turned her attention to Lailah.

“She is a virgin, you say?”

Lailah nodded.

“That is why we have come here to sell it. I know just how much you have wanted one.”

Hajiya Bash laughed and clapped her hands.

“Oh, Lailah. You have made me happy. So, two hundred thousand.”

“No Hajiya. Four hundred thousand.” Lailah bargained and Fatee felt insulted the more but she remained quiet.

“These are hard times Lailah.”

“I don’t think so Hajiya. These are political times, politicians will need to have sex with virgins.” Lailah countered, holding her ground.

“Three fifty, Lailah. That is the most I can do.” Lailah moved to refused but a touch from Fatee stilled her and she agreed.

Fatee didn’t have time. It was nearly a month since their father was hospitalised. They returned that night, and Fatee watched as the men made their bids for her.

“The higher they bid, the more you will have” Hajiya Bash whispered in her ears.

“One million naira!”

Someone bid one million naira and the other men clapped and cheered the man. ‘Senator’ they called him, and Fatee was shocked to see that she recognised him. He was a past Governor of the state now contesting for a seat in the Senate.

“Go on girl,” Hajiya Bash put her hand in the man’s. “Have fun tonight.”

Fatee bit down her tongue to prevent a sob from escaping. She saw Lailah at the side and she nodded at her encouragingly.

“Just close your eyes, imagine you’re not in the room and it’ll soon be over. Old men like him don’t last for long on a woman.”

Those were Lailah’s prep word. Fatee laid on the bed and let him undress her and work alone. There were little cracks on the wall close to the ceiling and she believed that before the rainy season was over, the ceiling would start leaking.

There were little cracks on the wall close to the ceiling and she believed that before the rainy season was over, the ceiling would start leaking. The man atop her closed his eyes in an euphoria known to him alone as he thrust deeper into her body.

Thrusting into her body.

The thought almost made her retch from disgust. Hot tears pooled in her eyes and when she closed her lids, the tears ran free. After a few more minutes, the man grunted and collapsed off her. The room reeked of sweat and a new smell; the smell of sex. Fatee started crying and curled herself into a fetal position, nursing the wounds in her soul that would never heal. The man exhaled a few more times and stood up to pull on his boxers. He dressed and patted his potbelly, apparently satisfied with what he’d just gotten. He stared at the girl and sighed. She didn’t belong here, even he knew that.

Feeling guilt stretching its vines to capture his heart, he shook his head to get rid of them. Whatever her reason was to be here, it didn’t concern him.

“Here, take this and hide it for yourself,” He dropped a thick wad of one thousand naira notes. “Don’t let Hajiya Bash know about it. Consider it a tip for…”

For being the one to take your virginity

But he couldn’t say that, could he? Throwing one last glance at the weeping girl, he shook his head again and closed the door gently behind him. Fatee broke down into louder sobs, her body trembled and her vision blurred.

The door opened and she shuddered thinking it was another man, but sighed of relief and pain when she saw her roommate, Lailah, the one who showed her this path.

“Shh,” Lailah consoled. “It’s okay now. Here, Hajiya has given me the money” she produced three thicker wads of money, they seemed to be more than a hundred thousand. “It’s all okay now, it’s all over and you can go back to life as it was, it’s okay.”

Fatee cried more than she’d ever cried in the last 22 years of her life. She couldn’t bring herself to touch the money. “I will be leaving tomorrow morning. Thank you Lailah.”

She swallowed the painkillers and prevention pills the other girl provided, hoping she wouldn’t get infected as the man insisted on not using a condom. “Exams are next month Fatee. You must pull yourself together” One of them said to her.

She laid on her side and wept again.

***

Something was definitely wrong, Fatee decided as she dropped in front of their house after she’d paid the fees at the hospital. Their father’s surgery had been scheduled for the next day and she got to see him, breaking down in tears in front of him.

Her two siblings looked grave, and if she wasn’t coming from the hospital, she would have thought their father was dead. Yousuf was seating, and Amina stood hovering close to the door.

“What’s happening here?” She inquired stepping in slowly.

“Why don’t you ask her?” Yousuf yelled and the two ladies jumped, Amina started crying. “Why don’t you ask her why she has gone ahead to get herself pregnant for someone who has denied ever seeing her?”

“Ali didn’t mean that. His father forced him too.” Amina replied.

“You are still defending him. I will kill you in this house!”

Yousuf charged at her and she hid behind Fatee.

“Of course you will kill me. If it were miss perfect, I doubt you would have said anything at all. He was going to pay for our father’s bills. With what you’ve done, I doubt he still would. You just can’t see me, your gaze is clouded with Fatee alone!”

She turned to face her sister

“I hate you!” Amina’s words were laced jealously and hatred.

Fatee started to laugh.

“Baba’s bills have been paid for.” She said as she laughed mournfully. The two turned their attention on her and she nodded. “All I asked you to do was to wait for me. Amina I told you to wait for me.”

Tears ran freely and Fatee felt so hurt she was suffocating. Everything seemed to have been for nothing now.

“Wait for you?” Amina sneered. “Just because you have managed to send us money for food and for Baba’s hospitalization, you think you’re this family’s head? How are we supposed to know you weren’t enjoying yourself in school? All thoughts about us forgotten?”

Yousuf stood arms akimbo, watching the two of them.

“Enjoying myself?” Fatee rose to her full height, anger embracing her features.

“You think I opened my legs and let a man older than my father through them so I could enjoy these?”

She threw the money at Amina. Large bundles of naira she earned after going back to the emporium five times.

“You think I sold myself, I sold my body, to enjoy these? You think I became a prostitue for me? You were so bitter and angry and I felt that I owed you two a lot.” Her gaze softened when they reached Yousuf. “It was so I could send you to school, so you could have a future.” Her tone sharpened “But Amina, now that you’re pregnant, I don’t know anymore.”

The house fell as silent as a graveyard. Fatee sat on the floor exhausted and empty.

A disturbance outside suddenly caught their attention.

“That’s him!” Someone yelled and three policemen rushed in to catch Yousuf. “He beat up my son unconscious over his whore of a sister.”

Fatee recognized the man as she begged and pleaded. The one who paid a million naira for her virginity in the emporium. He seemed to have recognised her too for he smiled, exposing a missing front tooth.

“If you want your brother, I’ll need something in return.” he said coyly.

Yousuf’s eyes widened as he made the connection.

“Let go of her!” He struggled. “If you lay a hand on my sister I’ll kill you.” he threatened.

“Don’t hurt him.” Fatee said as she nodded and accepted the card Senator was handing to her, ignoring Yousuf’s protests.

Growing up as children, Yousuf defended her from the other children, like he was a big brother. They’d been close, almost like twins. He had been doing everything for her, even shouldering her responsibilities as the first child when she failed to. It was now time she did something for him too.

“Don’t hurt him,” she repeated. “I will be there so please let him go.”

The senator nodded and the policemen released Yousuf.

“Take me away. Just take me and leave my sister out of this” he yelled at them but the policemen ignored him.

Fatee sank to the floor amidst the noise as Yousuf screamed himself hoarse, and Amina stared at nothing in particular.

2 thoughts on “Breath

  1. Wow, just read this and my heart sunk. An amazing well written piece. Keep it up. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you and I’m glad you enjoyed it

      Like

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