STIGMA

CHAPTER 41

Mrs. Jamiu was in the compound of her house rolling on the floor and yelling hysterically as sympathizers kept trooping into the compound, trying to get her to sit.

Her hair was disheveled and her wrapper was off, leaving her in her underwear which was transparent enough for them to see her inner wear.

The tears had ruined her already made-up face, making her look awful. It was evident enough from her looks that she was mourning.

She was preparing to go to the shop when she received a call from her brother in Zaria about the death of her son, Ayoade.

Her first fruit!

She couldn't even wait to hear the cause of his death before she ran out of the room, into the compound, calling for help as she stumbled to the ground, rolling for what seems like eternity.

Her neighbor was the first to come out after hearing the continuous shout of "Egba mi o (Help me)". She wondered what was wrong as she got out of her apartment to see Mrs. Jamiu rolling on the floor, like someone who had just been possessed or someone been delivered from possession.

As she got closer, the woman stood up abruptly and stumbled back on the floor, and lost consciousness.

The woman became alarmed and she ran out of the compound to call for help. More people rushed into the compound. A few of them quickly took buckets to fetch water from the tap opposite their apartment to sprinkle on her.

After sprinkling almost two buckets of water on her, without Mrs. Jamiu regaining consciousness, one of them volunteered to drive her to the nearby hospital which was streets away.

Before the woman could go back home to bring her car, Mrs. Jamiu had recovered and regained consciousness.

She was quiet for a while and looking into space. Then, she remembered her distress and bursted into tears.

The crowd watched as she cried after several attempts to make her voice out what the problem was. When her cries subsidized, she announced the death of her son, Ayoade, to them.

The crowd broke out into tears, some were genuine while others were just shedding crocodile tears.

That was a thing with African society. Even when they don't like who the victim is, they pretend to care by shedding crocodile tears, as if it was mandatory to cry.

How then will you know who loves you? Even in death people still pretend to love you when they truly don't.

Life is indeed unfair!, the woman thought.

Some of them were counseling her to be strong for her daughter, Bimpe as she cried more.

They tried to cover her nakedness with her wrapper which was on the ground when they saw some men entering the compound.

She was barely dressed and still in tears when she saw her husband amongst them. She guessed someone had called to inform him.

She stood up, letting go of the wrapper for the second time, not caring for the display of her under and inner wears as she plunged at her husband in anger.

"You killed him. You caused the death of my son. What sort of a father are you? I warned you severally but you wouldn't listen. See what all this stubbornness of yours has resulted into. I regret knowing you Jamiu. You don't deserve to be a father", she cried, yanking at her husband's t-shirt as more tears were flowing.

Her neighbor, Mrs. Lami moved towards her with the help of another woman and succeeded in pulling her away from her husband, who was silent and looking lost.

They took her to the far end of the compound which was far away from where her husband was standing with the two other men.

They sat her down on a stool as the women started surrounding her once more, sympathizing with her. She started crying all over again, putting her hands on her head, muttering Ayoade's name over and over again.

Losing a child is indeed a misfortune. May I not experience such. May we not experience such again, Mrs. Lami said to herself.

Mr. Jamiu watched as they pulled his depressing wife away and he ventured into the inner house, leaving the two men who accompanied him alone, in the compound.

He was feeling miserable.

This is a tragedy that feels like a dream, he thought. A dream he wants to wake up from so he could make things right.

The boy he loved with every fiber in him but was always hiding it. He was doing that for a purpose. He didn't want to make the same mistake his father made.

His mother had given birth to three girls before she birth him. But before his birth, his father was impatient to have an heir.

His father got married to a second wife in a quest for a male child and that was the beginning of trouble for his mother. His father refused to send his sisters to school and married two of them off, claiming they will eventually end up in the kitchen, no matter their educational qualifications.

His father didn't see any reason for sponsoringg them to school.

A year after getting married to the second wife, she gave birth to a set of twins. They were both boys and his father threw an elaborate party to celebrate them.

That was when his mother conceived and gave birth to him, a year after. His father showered love on the boys.

Jamiu was Aminat's immediate. She was very intelligent, smart and was going to school with the help of her mother.

Father tried to marry her off like the other two but Aminat told him to his face that she was not interested.

Amina was a bitter child. She hated every one of them, including Jamiu, with passion but except her mother, who was the apple of her eyes.

She attempted to kill Jamiu and the twins, with the hope that she would gain the attention of her father by doing that. She was caught in the act and her father fixed her wedding date, after beating her thoroughly.

On the eve of her wedding, Amina committed suicide. The suicide led to the breakage of the family. His mother died due to shock and his father had a stroke.

Jamiu felt the girls needed more attention and show of love, because of their feeble and timid nature than the boys.

Now he regretted his action.

He regretted the harsh words that came out of him towards the boy.

He hated himself for not supporting Ayoade.

And he cried hard.

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Ayoade is truly dead, any prediction?

Losing a child is indeed a misfortune. May I not experience such. May you, reading this not experience such tragedy by His Grace and Mercy. Ameen.