I am happy!!! No, I am ecstactic. I can’t even begin to tell you how happy I am. Today my baby (she shouldn’t see this) is getting married to the love of her life. Walai, the joy in my heart is more than the regular mother’ joy on days like this. You are wondering why ba? I will explain.
When I was twelve years old, I was raped. No, it wasn’t by the love of my life, it wasn’t by my friend either. I was raped by the prince of my village. The week before that, I was crowned the most beautiful ‘girl-child’ in my village by an NGO and I was given a scholarship to attend a secondary school in the city. The prince who was fifteen years old saw me during the competition and decided that he was in love with me. I refused his advances and told him that I would to go to the city, study and become a lawyer like the NGO owner some day. That night, I was ambushed and raped. He threatened to kill me if I told anyone what he did but I still told my abba and mama. They were sad and my abba cursed my beauty. He reported to the King and was beaten up for trying to frame the prince up. We all went to beg for his release and that was the end of the case….until I was told that I was pregnant. I was a virgin when I was raped and I still thought babies fell from the sky like my mother used to say.
Abba was a poor farmer and ordered me to abort the baby, mama was in support too. I asked my teacher what an abortion entailed and she told me. She also advised me not to go through with it and i told my parents that I wouldn’t do it. Abba went mad and threw me out of his house. Mama cried but couldn’t do anything because we northerners do not question the authority of the man of the house. I went to my teacher and she took me in. She begged my father but he was adamant. When the NGO owner came to carry me to my new school, the King told him that I had gotten pregnant and I ran away and so his daughter was given the scholarship in my stead. Aunty Naomi was sad but there was nothing she could do about it. When I was six months pregnant, aunty Naomi had to go back to the city as she had finished her NYSC programme and was going to get married. She told me to stay in her house and promised to come and carry me to live with her but i never saw her after that. I only got a letter where she apologised and said her husband didn’t want to see me. I was sad but i continued doing menial jobs for food and clothing.
On the day I gave birth to Fauzia, it rained heavily and i trekked under the rain to the health centre. I didn’t even know that I was in labour. I just noticed water running down my legs and so I went to complain at the health centre. I didn’t feel any pains throughout and I knew that God was compensating me for all the pains I had gone through. I ran away from the hospital with Fauzia because I didn’t have any money to pay our bills. I went to beg Abba with the baby but he threw me out again. Mama managed to give me fura before I left the house in tears. I was regarded as an outcast in the village because no one knew how I got pregnant(getting pregnant out of wedlock was a very big deal), the few people who let me work for them were the ones who didn’t care.
Aunty Naomi’s house rent expired when Fauzia was two months old and we were evicted. I put her on my small back and started walking. I walked until I realised that I was no longer in our village. When i asked, I was told that I was in Kaduna. I was happy that I was finally in the city but I was sad at how I got there. I found a mosque that I started sleeping in and started doing chores for different house holds again. I stopped when the Abba of one of the houses told me that he loved me. I decided to sit in front of the mosque with my baby and beg for alms. I would sing pitiful songs and beg passersby for money. After begging for about two months, I had made enough money to start buying fura da nunu and hawking became my trade. I would walk for long distances with Fauzia on my back from morning till night. I remember when the money I made for the day was taken from me and I was pushed and as a result, Fauzia got injured. I spent all the money I had saved to treat the deep cut on her head. One day one amariya asked me how much I’d collect to give Fauzia to her because she couldn’t have children. I told her that I wasn’t interested and she tried to convince me but I just couldn’t let my Fauzia go, we had been through too much together already.
Fauzia and I went through every situation together. We resumed our singing and made enough money for me to pay and learn how to sew. I was the youngest girl with my madam and I was the most determined. Fauzia was a quiet and peaceful baby so there was always someone who wanted to carry her. I was also growing into a very beautiful yarinya and men didn’t stop asking me out in their numbers. When I was fourteen, Fauzia and I snapped some pictures for a bill board and I was paid some money, I was ecstatic. I used the money to buy a machine and was renting it out while i still learnt how to sew. I graduated as the best girl and my madam gave me some money and another sewing machine. I moved out of the mosque and rented a small room where i could sew from. I also enrolled Fauzia in school. I took my work seriously and I started making just enough money to provide for Fauzia and I. I was sixteen years old when I paid for a shop and employed a girl who was older than me. I even went back to the village and was told that Abba and mama died the year before from cholera.
When I was twenty one years old and Fauzia was eight, I graduated from my night school and Fauzia got into college. She was the best in the state common entrance exam and she was given a scholaship to any government school of her choice. I was so proud of her, I chose the closest day school because I didn’t want her to be far away from me and I wanted to be able to monitor her academics. We were best of friends; I learnt from her everyday and she did the same. We were both growing in beauty too. lol. When Ali proposed marriage to me and Fauzia raised a brow about it, I quickly told him that I wasn’t interested. That fauzia is my life and if she doesn’t approve of a man, I would not marry him. This also happened in the cases of Ibrahim, Ismaila, Tope and the ones I cannot remember.
Fauzia graduated from her secondary school in flying colours and I was doing very well in my business in Kaduna. When it was time for her to enter the university, we both cried and were sad. I almost moved my business to Zaria just so that we could be close. Fauzia refused and we eventually learnt to be away from each other. I poured all my heart and soul into my business so that my Fauzy(that’s what her friends in school used to call her) would not lack anything. When Fauzy was in her third year, she introduced Faisal to me. He was a final year Engineering student and man was he handsome! I surmised that he was the one that was making Fauzia not come home every other week as usual and if eyes could kill, he would have died. lol. I eventually thawed towards Faisal and I could see why Fausia was fascinated by him.
Fauzia graduated in flying colours as the “youngest barrister” and best graduating student. You cannot imagine the big smile on my beautiful face that day. My smile turned into a pool of tears when Faisal proposed to her at the graduation party I organised for her and she accepted. It was also at this party that I met Isah. Till date, I still don’t know who invited him but I keep praying for whoever it was. We got married six months after that and Isah is the second best thing that has ever happened to me. He is a father and more to Fauzy to I and I love him to bits.
Fauzia is walking down the aisle now and I feel like going to grab my twenty years old baby and running away with her. Isah is squeezing my hand reassuringly and I know that everything is going to be just fine. I say a silent prayer of thanks to God for giving me the grace and wisdom to not abort her and for helping me care of her till date. It is time to hand over the baton to my new son Faisal Adamu and I know that my baby is in good hands.
My name is Mrs Farida Isah; proud mother (and father) of Barrister Mrs Fauzia Adamu and this is my story. Alhamdullilah!!!
hey people, its been a while ba…..apologies. Today’s story is purely fictional and shouldn’t be related to anyone. I hope the message was adequately passed though because this happens everyday in our society. Teenage,single mothers are everywhere. Some of them decided to eat the forbidden fruit but some of them are victims of abuse. Please, lend a hand to them whenever you can. I also wrote this for all the single mothers, walai it is not easy. My mother has always been an inspiration and would always be.
Ehen!!! Thanks to my dear friend @elsieisy for inspiring me. u can read her posts at http://www.elsieisy.wordpress.com
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