Episode 4.
I had never had course to retrieve a missing phone number until now. I thought it would be easy, but it wasn’t. I was made to know that the SIM card wasn’t registered in my name, yeah it wasn’t… I lazily made someone do it for me, someone I don’t even know how or where to find.
Long story short, I got a new phone and of course a brand new SIM card. I lost all contacts.
Musa has my kids, I can’t reach them, they can’t reach me, except I go to his house. I mentally worked on bringing back Musa’s number from memory but I couldn’t.
Now I regret not paying attention the few times he called since he came back into the picture.
Well, I need to be in touch with my babies and if going to his house was the only way, so be it. It’s been three days already.
First, I’d call my only friend, she hates Musa as much as I do…we would go together in case I’d need moral support.
I only need to let my children know that I have a new phone number. So help me God.
***
If Musa had known that Beatrice’s mind was no longer hers, he would have carefully avoided the marriage matter, but he had no idea and his blunt refusal to marry Beatrice was his undoing.
Twice, Beatrice had tried to stab herself to get back at him. Once she had succeeded, hitting her mark before he could get to her. Her scream had alerted him, but he had been too late.
The knife had done only partial damage, but a damage all the same. Beatrice was unstoppable, not even her pregnancy could tame her. She tried to harm the pregnancy on many occasions. She only had to read “Not to be taken by pregnant women” and she’d consume the “poison”.
“Beatrice, what can I do to help you?” a defeated and tired Musa had asked her one night after she had finished the contents of a 75cl gin bottle.
“You need help and I am willing to help you. We can do it together” he pleaded earnestly but it didn’t seem like Beatrice heard him. She only continued to stare at him from the tiny lines remaining of her eyes.
One day Beatrice, in her drunken state had locked little Habeeb in the toilet, slept off until the boy cried off his lungs. That was where Musa met his son.
“I don’t care if your parents hate me, we need to go to them. You need help.” he had screamed at Beatrice.
“Help me” Beatrice whispered.
“How?” Musa was hopeful
“Marry me” Beatrice said looking straight into his eyes. Musa saw an aged woman, bitter, sick and emaciated, he wanted to cry, he longed for the vivacious, lively pretty girl he fell in love with. He nodded.
“What?” Beatrice shouted
“Yes, I will marry you… But first we see your parents”
The ugly laughter threw Musa back. It wasn’t from Beatrice, yet it was from her.
“Liar!” she roared at him.
“Liar” she screamed and went in a blind rage. Musa watched as his pregnant wife thrashed every thing he owned. He looked at Habeeb who was fast asleep and scared in his arms, he also tried to stop her from doing bodily harm to herself.
Suddenly she screamed, a different type of scream… She was in labour. The child was coming. Musa began to shed silent tears. He was exhausted and sad. But his second child was coming and Beatrice needed his help…
***
The house was enormous, I had little problem finding it. The gate was closed but not locked… For the first time since I made the decision to come, I was wary, even self conscious. I had made no effort to tame my old and ragged look and for once, I regretted it.
I should have worn something else… Like the little black dress my friend gave me last December, but I would have looked like a magazine cover girl for Halloween!
Still, my Ankara wrapper looked out of place as I gently pushed open the gate… I saw them.
Habeeb and Musa were laughing over a game of tennis, wearing matching outfits.
My baby, Idayat and a sleek woman in scarf were seated together watching them, laughing as they shared a bottle of some nuts I couldn’t make out from where I stood.
The perfect family, but I was missing. The biggest part of the puzzle was me and I was missing.
Anger, rage, sorrow… Nobody missed me.
I, the mother.
The one who gave up her life to nurture them.
I stood rooted to my spot. Then they saw me, not all at once, the sleek woman saw me first, her well lined eyes creased in confusion and surprise, Idayat saw the look and turned around, then my son and his father.
Rage…
To be continued!
Story by La’bos
