Noorur-rahman

The Woman Who Left Me

"Don't touch me." I simply said, restraining myself from rolling my eyes at her. This is me paying heed to abbah's advice, who I urgently need to speak with. "Don't!" I repeated as she come closer, my voice came out very stern. She looks at me with sheer terror in her eyes and her arms still hanging in the air.

It's crazy and so dumb of her to expect a hug from me. I can't get myself to do that. Who even hug the person that abandoned them? At least not me. 

It's been a long time since I was a child, a child who craved her hugs and kisses. A child whom even after everyone said I was abandoned, I didn't believe it. But hours passed, days, weeks, months, and years. Yet,  she never showed up for me, called, or send anyone. I was never important to her, I long knew that.

What hurt the most at the moment is her attempt to smile it up with a hug. And her damn stare on me that says 'Why can't I touch you?' And I stare right back at her with pleasure and all the accusations in this world displayed in my eyes.

She sauntered back to her seat and sat down fiddling with her fingers. How annoying!

"Noorur-Rahman, she is your mother!" The man next to me stated the obvious. Of course, I ain't blind!

"And so? What if she is? What will that ever change?" I said calmly especially looking at her disheveled yet composed self. Perhaps, that's what we have in common.  Self-composure! The fake self composure if I may add.

I waited for a decent and reasonable explanation for her negligence all these years. However, neither of them was ready to make a justification. For I believe there is none to offer.  

It still feels surreal to be breathing the same oxygen as the woman who abandoned me, nor could I help but wonder where was this woman when I felt so alone. When I cry myself to sleep being so lonely. Even when I doubt my self-worth, she wasn't there. When only Abbah was there for me, hiding my pain and sorrows from him, simply because I was afraid he will leave too. Where was she when I was bathed with Ice cold water during harmattan? When my soul screams and begs for Zainab's mercy. When I will do anything not to suffer in Hajiya's hand.

I fought with myself to stop my soul from shattering and bleeding so invisibly. And finally, after the push and pull that eroded my emotions. I learned self-respect, built self-control, and also found myself worthy of being loved, even if it's from abbah alone. I was loved and still loved by him.

She wasn't there when it hurts every day until the brain stops yearning for that love. That moment when I gave up on her, after accepting her rejection. My heart is therefore not for everyone, it's not for the ones who threw the knives.

What were they thinking? Seventeen years is a long time, they might assume the days just flips over, but they didn't. A lot of things had happened before we got here. And with the dreadful look on their faces, my mood is becoming more sully. I need to get out of this place, the air in that consolidated walls is suffocating.

"Nafisa, let's talk." Her brother suggested and she nodded looking at him with teary eyes, so red as if she have been crying. Yet, I haven't seen a visible single teardrop.

As the two disappeared to God knows where. I try calling Abbah's cellphone, but I was told that it's currently not available. We talked on the phone earlier that morning. And now I only called him to calm my nerves and the peace that's evacuating my heart. And anything can happen.

While I was still debating on whether to make my escape from this cage or to wait and see the kind of drama fate is bringing to my plate again. I mean what is it I haven't since from my small age.

"Noorur-Rahman, I will get your luggage to the room." Abbah's first ex-wife said as both she and her brother returned to the living room. Whatever emotion is on her face, I don't give a damn. This is the woman who left the two-month me to die. She's a stranger!