Chapitre 31: What's my crime? That I had the guts to carry your child?”
Nabila Mujahid was scared to tell her husband the truth. He was the father of a baby he had no recollection of creating. Secretly she had hoped he would figure it out and confront her; that way she could play the defensive. Annoyingly he did the exact opposite and blindingly ignored the obvious. Jamal patted her back when she vomited, remarked on her heaped plate at breakfast, shook his head when she cried at the end of Fear Factor and just lacked the follow through to string it all together. At this point Nabila was sure the cook knew, the florist at botanical gardens knew, Yemi her beautician knew...everybody else bloody knew.
It wasn't supposed to turn out this way. When Nabila first hatched the plan to conceive she looked forward to rubbing his nose in it. Screaming at him "you thought I was good for nothing? Well I am pregnant." Rehearsed her glare in a mirror even, she wanted it to be delivered perfectly. That would teach the asshole to make her life miserable.
Once the child was delivered he would take one look at it and love her again. All would be forgiven. They would be a family. The problem now, was that Jamal was no longer an asshole. Granted he was far removed from the man she married but he was also no longer the tyrant from the past 12 months. He stopped hurting her. Just like that. Gone were the late nights, the put downs, the look of utter despair, when she spoke he seemed to listen and he openly complimented her garden. They were acquaintances of sort, and this baby news would shatter any hope of one day getting back 'there'. It would surely send her husband back into the night and away from her. So here Nabila was, pregnant, and afraid to execute the very scene she had been looking forward to.
"Have some toast with your butter" Jamal said
Nabila looked down at the thick layer of butter she had spread on her toast; it resembled a slab of yellow brick. She put it down, she couldn't eat again
"What are your plans today?" she asked instead
"Work. Squash. Home. Ke fa- You?"
"Need to go to the garden centre. Buy some herbs" she answered distractedly, the toast was very appetising now. Lifting it gingerly she ate the whole thing in eight seconds smacking her lips. As she licked melted butter off her fingers, she noticed Jamal staring at her, "Okay" he nodded in surprise.
She began to lay knobs of creamy butter on another slice, when she felt her tummy heave. The morning sickness was due any moment soon, hurriedly pushing her chair back Nabila ran into the downstairs toilet just in time. Up and out came the toast and tea she just had. She could no longer pretend.
"Jamal" she called. He was already behind her
She looked up at him "I am pregnant"
Silence.
"Jamal" she called again. He just stood at the door jamb frozen like he was in another time zone. Like the information was taking longer to reach him.
"Ka na jin na kuwa- Are you listening to me at all?" She asked his statue
But Nabila saw it. The joining of the dots in his head, she even knew the exact point he replayed the doctor visit. "Don't worry its good news" the man said smiling. "Take good care of her" he advised on their way out.
Jamal levelled his gaze with hers. His knuckles pushed through the fist his hands formed.
"It's not possible" he whispered
"Yes it is"
"Why...how...how long...since wh-?
"One month" Nabila answered. She could not believe she was doing this crouched over the toilet, in the middle of morning sickness
"No...no...there's no way"
Nabila didn't have time for this; another wave of nausea was on its way
"You didn't know what was happening. I made you unconscious. I gave you an erection..."
"It didn't happen! Stop saying it did"
"Remember the headache. Remember saying Be-" Nabila dunked her head in the toilet and threw up, twice. When she looked up Jamal was gone.
Rabi Bello rushed to the waiting area in the hospital, the PA system said it was urgent that she report there at once. Knowing she would only get called out of rounds for an emergency; she proceeded to jog from one ward to the other till she got to the central building. She arrived panting, to see Jamal tapping his foot and running his hands repeatedly through his hair. He wanted to fool around now? Really? It was 8.00am.
"Jamal not a good time" Rabi said annoyed she got called away for this. She kept her voice low so the matron wouldn't hear. Jamal stood up trembling
"I...didn't know...I swear...thought...dreaming"
"Huh?"
"Tricked me. I should have known...headaches"
"You have a headache? Ya Allah your hands are shaking"
"Nabila"
"What? What has happened to her?" Rabi shook him "Say something"
"Pregnant" her hands dropped from his shoulders
"But you two don't...have not for a lon-...You said you weren't..."
"We are not, but"
"But what? It was an immaculate conception?"
"Ina barshi- I was sleeping. I thought it was you. Wait, I beg you, please wait, and let's try to figure this..."
"We're done." She said firmly
"Congratulations" Rabi walked away
Nabila waited in the dark for her husband to return. Every time a car drove by her heart skipped a beat. The wait was killing her. She would subject herself to any paternity test he wanted, take a polygraph. He knew and she knew that it was for no other. She glanced at his briefcase, and the papers he left at the dining table. For the first time in her marriage, Nabila was scared Jamal would throw her out. The reality of living without him fostered fresh fear. Nabila could not survive without Jamal, even at their worst, her sheets still smelt of him and that was enough.
"I want you to leave" Jamal had come in. Nabila stood up on shaky legs, with cotton in her mouth. Her world had just collapsed
"Get out. "Ki koma gidan babanki- back to your parent's house"
"What will you say I did?" He would have to drag her out by her hair
Jamal kept quiet. He hadn't thought of that.
"When Baba asks you my crime, what will be your query? That I had the guts to carry your child?"
"Are you defending what you did?"
"I begged you Jamal. Asked time and time again, that we at least discuss the possibility"
"And I said no because I knew it was wrong to bring a child into the home we had"
"That would have been fine if we were working towards fixing it. But you weren't...you hoped I would get frustrated and just leave so you made me unhappy"
"Making you happy is a full time job Nabila."
"You married me"
"Because I hoped you would change"
"And I assumed you wouldn't"
They were quiet. Their marriage lay before them illuminated in the darkened room, flaws and all. It was now or never, the fight or flight sequence
"I want us to work. I want to be married to you"
"No you don't" he shook his head softly "You have what you wanted out of this marriage"
"Jamal I love you" Nabila exclaimed. It was clear for all to see her life was him. "You know this. You to give me meaning"
"I used to need to hear that. It made me feel safe, massaged my ego. Not anymore, because my feelings aren't the same. I don't love you Nabila, I never really did."
Nabila slid to the sofa; hand over her mouth, trembling with truth serum
"I can't divorce you now, not while you're pregnant with a child that's my responsibility"
Amaka Nwafor reviewed the application of the Igweze's. They hoped to enrol their grandson, Nnamdi in September. Amaka flipped to the charity section of the file and hissed in annoyance at the unsubtle display of a newspaper clipping featuring her parents. They posed beside one another at a breast cancer awareness luncheon, Amaka rolled her eyes. If this couple thought her parents were a form of bribe they were sadly mistaken. A soft knock caught her attention and Ikenna strolled in holding a red heart and a white envelope to his chest. He placed them gently on her table and pulled out a chair
"I didn't ask you to sit" Amaka said ignoring the box of chocolates
"I came to apologise"
"I gathered"
Ikenna remained on his feet and read out from the card himself, it was large and white with 'Forgive Me' written in swooping cursive against a bouquet of red roses. It was too over the top for her. You would have thought he ran over her dog. When he was done Amaka had already gone back to work
"I am trying to say sorry. You could at least hear me out"
"Why?"
"Why?"
"Yes why. Why should I listen to anything you have to say?"
"Amaka I did not know it was you. All I thought was here's another one Mama has given my phone number to. If you said your name..."
"Oh that's right. It's my fault."
Ikenna rubbed his head, it had been a while since he had to apologise to a woman. He was sure chocolates and grovelling were a failsafe formula to get the ball rolling. Amaka had barely glanced at them, she resumed her work. Wow, she was going to be tough. He excused himself and drove back to Central Bank; he stayed in his office till midnight. Who does she think she is anyway? Na woman he never knack before? Abeg jare. Still after a cold shower he lay in bed and thought about the outline of her breasts against her shirt and tiny braids falling inches above where her nipple should be. Braids and boobs. With sad eyes, strong shoulders and a giggle like a teenager. He already knew he was going back to her office tomorrow.
He missed her this time, that happens when you don't call ahead. He dropped off his offering. A red card with 'I'm Sorry' in a large font and white chocolate with coconut fillings. She didn't call to say she received it and he didn't call to ask if she did. The next two days he was busy so when he did grab some free time, Ikenna drove up to the botanical gardens to buy flowers. Maybe they were the missing component.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
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