Flawed Perfection

Chapter Thirty-One: The Sail

"Why?" It sounded like the light beeping sound of a time bomb before the explosion happened. 'Why are you crying? Why did you tolerate him more than he ever tolerated you? Why were you not really a mother to us? Why did you let yourself become a pun? Why did you stoop so low? Why did you do all that for him?'. Those were not the best questions sane kids asked their parents. Knowing that did not stop Aisha from wanting to know more. For starters, like why her mother's divorce outraged her the way it did, or why she was having a slight difficulty breathing when she should be happy her mother was now a free woman.

Divorce was not that much freedom in Arewa, divorce was a smear on a woman's clean reputation, it was considered failing as a woman, for it was expected that every woman should have the innate nature to make anything work, marriage was no exception.

Most women who escaped abusive marriages were forced right back by their own family. Why? The wedding day marked the end of the woman's comfortable stay-at-home period, there were also, always kids women were expected to sacrifice for. Aside excelling at being a wife, society expected a woman to be the sole caretaker of her children.

"He's tired, Aisha." Aisha was infuriated by Mama's response. Baba only had to be tired and it was over.

"So, don't push this. Your father and I have lived the past years by a single rope of marriage. The last one has just been cut off. I suppose you know what that means." Islamically, a man who divorced his wife three times could not remarry her until she got married to someone else who, at some point, also willingly divorces her. Until that condition was fulfilled, Mama and Baba's marriage was non-negotiably over.

Not like it had ever been a real marriage. Aisha absorbed the words, not willing to say any.

"I wanted to endure a little more of marriage until Hauwa comes of age and gets married too."

"Because I cannot afford a repeat of what happened to you. My mind would not be at rest until I know she's safe for sure." Aisha absorbed the words. It was how her brain seemed to work today, silently, slowly, almost as if she could not process anything.

Should she console her mother? They'd lost the bond to do that.

Her head was blank, her heart was so injured, her entire existence hurt.

"I'm sorry, Mama." She cried. Reaching out to her mother, she wrapped her up in a bare hug. She was sorry a woman as kind and forgiving as her mother had to go through all that, she was sorry her mother was too much of all the right things, she was sorry she had to dislike her for that at some point in her life, Aisha was also sorry because she was the only one who knew what Baba was really up to, if she couldn't let her mother in on it. She was sorry because the whole truth would kill Mama.

Hajiya Maryam did not deserve to die like that. She hugged Aisha back as if she knew it. Aisha's heart broke further, realizing her mother did not know and it was what's best.

"Don't, Aisha. I am the one who should be sorry. If I could go back in time, I would have treated that issue differently." Aisha shook her head, she didn't want to think about it. If she allowed herself to, she would dislike her mother all over again.

"Please, do not bring that up, Mama. I've been trying to put it behind me." She eased out of the hug, took her time to look around the room.

The frame of a tall, archaic, canopy bed was mounted to the rough cream wall of the room. Even without raising the curtains, Aisha knew the contents under the bed. There were probably a couple of plastic and iron basins, metal boxes, brooms and other things meant to remain hidden from anyone who walked into the room. Most old women were fond of doing that, Baba Uwani, Mama's aunt was no different.