From Bleeding Heart to Bleeding Brain

23rd March, 2016

It was rather early in the morning,  probably 3 am. Lucky for me, there was light. The cooling from the air conditioner kept my husband too comfortable to notice any movements of the duvet. I sneaked out of bed. I had my own room— or rather, there was an extra room right beside his, and he told my parents it was for me. I had never slept there before; the only time I was ever let to go there was to extensively clean the room every week 'until a befitting wife comes to stay in it'.

Yet, I barely slept on his bed, unless I had fulfilled my bed duties, and since early in the marriage, that was never based on if I wanted to. Where I slept was mainly on the mat by his bedside.

I walked to the bathroom. Being extra careful with each step. I needed to be.

I got to the bathroom, and when I turned on the lights, I remembered my little midnight adventures. There was the bath tub, in which I cried myself to sleep some nights, and then woke up before Danlami could ever see me. There was the toilet, where I threw up each time I was beaten to stupor and my stomach could no longer digest properly. I mau have lost many children like this. There were the white marble tiles on the floor, which could be red sometimes, depending on how badly he raped me. There was the sink, where more of tears ran down than water. And then, in front of me was the mirror, reflecting the life I lived everyday.

I stood a distance from the mirror and dropped my wrapper so that I could see my full bare body. That was me, a slim fair woman with stitches on her chin, red marks and scars all over her body. I remembered the ones made by hand, by belt, or by stick. I would never have known sentitive skin could take all this. I never knew that would be me, that I would get so used to pain that I woud inflict it on myself as practice.

I hadn't gained any weight since marriage, except when I was pregnant for my only daughter, Hadissa.

Oh, Hadissa.

She was my bundle of joy, the only happiness that no one could take away from me.

I picked up my linen wrapper from the floor and made my way to her room.

The door was open, and the corridor light let me see her, although dim.

I wish we could resume our midnight gossip. I was not easily allowed to leave the house, but she was. Her stories always made my day. We used to talk and talk, but only when Danlami was away or deep in sleep.

But it had been so long since we did that. School is demanding. She needs to have an agile mind for classes. Its just that... some days, I really really wished we could gist. Let me know I did one thing right. Or have something to look forward to. Or, if anything at all, know she was okay. Or if she had seen any of her Baba's violence.

There she lay. Hadissa probably enjoying a happy dream. No snoring, no coughing, although she was rolling vigorously on her bed. I walked forward to get a better view. Her very big blanket covered most of her, but I loved watching her body lay there. My carbon copy with the attitude.

"Ina kwana, Inna." Good morning, mother.

I was so surprised, I almost jumped.

"Lafiya Lau, yar." It's fine, my daughter.

She sat up, but I caressed her face, urging her to go back to sleep.

"Inna, I'm fourteen, I can handle being awake." My child had serious attitude.

I had not talked to her since the day before she saw Danlami smash my head to the ground, so I tried to start a conversation, but was slightly frightened of where it could go.

"Ina gajiya?" How's the stress? I blurted out, acting like there was nothing deeper to talk about

She sighed, "Ba gajiya, Inna. It's just school stress, that's all. We are having end of second term exam very soon."

I nodded.

I noticed that the linen wrapped around my body was dropping from my chest, so I adjusted it, although there was no need to.

Awkward silence. She broke it.

"Inna",

"Yes",

Hadissa made a gesture with her hand   by stroking her chin softly while looking at mine. My heart skipped a beat as she opened her lips to talk.

"Ummmm..."

I could feel her pain. I fidgeted a little, almost regretting ever coming to visit her that night.

"Does it hurt?"

I froze. I couldn't move my jaws to talk, and the injuries on my lower jaw began to hurt with a fiery pain, as if it was smashed to the ground all over again. She began to talk again, and fear jolted through my veins. What else did she want say?

"Do women still get this heavily maltreated in this generation..."

At that millisecond, my fear turned into rage and the pity I had for her seeing me get beat up turned to misery and complete embarrassment.

"Kina Hauka?!"  Are you mad?!

"Inna..."

"Ki Yi mun shuru!!" Shut up!!!

I raised my hand as if I was going to slap her really hard, but I retreated as soon as I noticed how loud I shouted and the fury in my voice. I looked into her eyes and saw how big they were, most likely because of shock, or maybe fear. I stood up and walked to the door of her room. I felt like I still had more to say, so I turned to her before I finally left her room and said in a very low tone,

"And never will you go peeping into our room, and never shall you talk to me like that in your entire life! Or else, Wallahi, Za ki chi Uban ki. I swear, you will see pepper!"

And just like that, I slammed the door, but I waited in front of it, and regretted immediately being so harsh on poor, sweet Hadissa. But what did it matter; she must develope tough skin.