Chapter 9 — The Loss

We get weaker each passing day, with every part of our body losing its strength. While all these are happening we keep on dreaming big, dreaming of becoming someone or possessing something. We must know that the dream of this life will one day end and so too must the dreamers within it. Always think about your life, how it will end!

The day I heard about the death of Safiyah's husband I was shocked. Like seriously? Someone I met just few months ago? Someone that yelled at me to get out of his house? Oh Allah, forgive that man! I never knew he was bidding me farewell, I really never knew! I would've atleast told him to forgive me for ever interfering into the affairs of his house. Gosh, how I wish I could see him again! Rest in Jannatul Firdaus, Faisal. May Allah forgive you for all your sins. Ameen.

"He told me he had been praying and hoping to be transferred back to Minna, or atleast its environs so as to be very close to us but, but..." Safiyah bursted into another round of tears. "He got taken away from us instead".

"It's okey Safiyah, you've been crying for days now. You need to be strong dear, don't display your weakness in front of your children". Said her cousin sister, Bushrah. "They need a shoulder to lean on, yours!".

I couldn't look at the poor widow anymore, nor the poor children sitting speechless on the couch close to their grandmother. It was a bitter moment, how could she cope? Losing a husband isn't easy, especially when there are children. Likewise having a monster as husband! If only Abdullah could change totally before it's too late.

"Crying will not bring him back, Safiyah". A woman named Inna Sumaiyyah chimed in. "It will only make things worst for you. This is almost a week since my nephew left us, you need to get over it before it gets the best of you. We are all going to die someday, it is our nature to die. The only thing he needs now is prayer".

According to Safiyah, her husband was sound and healthy. He didn't complained about anything. I mean, about being sick or something. The only thing he had been complaining about was the transfer saga. He wanted to be close to his family.

"Be strong my daughter. Remember when I lost your father, I nearly cried to death. But people told me to be strong, for you and your siblings..."

That was how people kept advising Safiyah, to be strong and to accept everything that had happened as Qadr (destiny). Verily, people die only when it is their time. And prayer is all the dead need from the living. "This is indeed a great loss, may his gentle soul rest in Jannatul Firdaus". I prayed. And they all chorused; "Ameen".

Visitors kept coming in and going, although people like me and some others have chosen to stay till evening but that made the house to be filled to the brim, hence making the space for the incoming visitors to be scarce. So I bade Safiyah goodbye with a promise that I'd return back the following day. I had been visiting her ever since her husband became history.

Abdullah was the one that dropped me in the house in the morning before driving off to school. He had been calm ever since he heard about the death. Infact, he was the one that even told me to always be visiting Safiyah. And so everyday I'd go to the house with a Coleman cooler filled with food. Sometimes, I'd buy fruits for them too.

Immediately I was outside the gate of the house about stopping a bike, I spotted Abdullah leaning on his car in the other side of the road. I was surprised! "Since when have you been waiting there? I thought you left after dropping me?". I queried while walking towards him.

"Yes, I just came back minutes ago". He said as he reached for the empty Coleman cooler I was holding. "So how's she? Hope she's coping?".

"Well, I really can't say. But she will be fine In Shaa Allah. This is just 5 days. She needs some time to redeem herself properly". I said as we both walked towards his car.

"She just needs to be strong, atleast for," He paused as he lifted the cooler into the boot and continued. "for those poor kids. She shouldn't let them feel empty. She should now be their father and mother".

Bgaaaam! He shut the boot.

"Yes, she ought to". I said, hopping into the front passenger seat of the car. Abdullah stormed into the driver's seat and quickly ignited the engine into action.

It was a gentle ride home. Mama had been waiting for us. I hugged her immediately we arrived. She asked about Safiyah and I narrated almost everything to her. She felt sorry for the poor widow, prayed for her before we went to the kitchen to prepare lunch. It was almost one o'clock and Abdullah's stomach has already started grumbling.

"He needs quality food, Oje'oskapa pkyi stew". She said. But the only thing I understood was 'stew', the rest were something I wasn't familiar with.

"What's Ojen skakafa?" I asked, pronouncing it wrongly.

"Oh Bilkis, It's Oje'oskapa, meaning Tuwon shinkafa (Rice swallow)". She said with a smile as she light the cooker and placed a pot filled with water on top. "And pkyi means 'and'. Hence, Tuwon Shinkafa and stew".

Oops!

"Igala is hard, Mama". I complained, fetching the rice from its sack. "Maybe that's why Abdullah can't speak it fluently".

"Abeg don't mind your husband". She playfully hissed. "He always blame me for his inability to speak the language. He said if assuming I got married to an Igala man instead of his father (Nupe), he'd have been able to speak the language even more than me".

Hahaha... I laughed.

"Then after he got married to you I asked him," She cleared her throat and continued. "Why did you married a Hausa/Fulani girl, and not Igala or Nupe girl? He was speechless, but later on he told me that love is very strong and doesn't know prejudice. Then I told him I and his father had to marry eachother as well..."

She explained everything to me, then I thought how perfect would it be for all the Nigerians to practice intermarriage. I mean, that'd definitely end the tribalism in this country. If we all come together as one, we will make a great and united nation.