Àjíkè (Book One In The Battered Wives Series) #ProjectNigeria

Chapter One

"I got someone pregnant."

My husband of three years gulped visibly, swallowed and rubbed his hand over his face over and over again. He was so tensed, again why shouldn't he be, he just dumped the strangest thing on me. It was as though I had been slapped severely. Trying to mask my emotions, my face showed a different emotion from the rage and fear I was feeling inside. I smiled ruefully.

"Who is she?".

He turned to his mother to help him out and she looked at me in pity, she moved forward to the edge of her seat.

"Ókó mí, He is sorry, please don't take out your anger on him."

All that talk does not take the smile off my face, if there was anything I learned well, it's to mask and screen the emotions I have on my face, so I wouldn't look vulnerable.

I look over to a side of the mini living room, my achievements all sprayed around the walls. I look back to my mother-in-law and her fear stricken face at my smile. I knew how weird it was that I wasn't flinging a vase across the room or shouting furiously. But I wanted my smile to haunt them, I wanted my composure, the calm expression to run through their mind, confuse them and make them vulnerable. It always worked.

"It's fine, I'll send my lawyer to you Jinke."

He fell to his knees almost immediately, and tears began to make their way down his face, I wanted to look unfazed and unaffected but I've loved this man for nearly all my life. I loved him from secondary school in Ogbomosho, we separated at University level, but reunited again at our Nysc passing out parade. He had seen me from his place at the head of his group. His face had widened into a big smile and his steps had faltered, it was like a dream come true when we got married.

I looked over to him now and his crying face made my locked up heart flutter. His mother smiled when she saw the little emotion that crossed my face and threatened to crack my uncaring demeanor. She must have hoped I had forgiven him.

But I hadn't.

Nowhere near forgiveness, I'll work towards it, I'll try to forgive him so I can leave this hurt clouding my head. So I can be free, it's killing me.

My chest tightened.

I raised him from the floor and and supported his weight. His 6'1 frame looked lean and I smiled sardonically at the pain he must have gone through and the very thought of telling me.

We had agreed on a contraceptives, we had gone to that private clinic to get a three year span contraceptives for me. I smiled bitterly again before looking into his eyes, I smiled brightly and asked

"Who is she? "

He froze again and this time I noticed because I was holding him. It had better be someone I don't know or I'll never be the same again.

His mother raised her hands helplessly and dropped them on her laps. It was then I looked properly at the 5'2 woman I called 'Maami'. 
Her eyes looked sunken and her usually well draped hijab was draped over one shoulder carelessly.

"Ajike, Kareema ni o(Ajike,it's Kareema)."

The same cousin he swore he could never like because she didn't wear a hijab. I on the other hand could never leave the house without a hijab that passed my bosom, I smiled again at his double standards. I looked away from him and let my hand drop from his upper arm.

The Adhaan for Isha sounded and I walked to the prayer room adjacent the living room.

As I performed Ablution, my mind flashed through for any signs that I could have missed out on. None.

They hid their affair well, I walked motionlessly to my prayer mat and after my Rakats, I fell into a sujood to my Lord and asked him for his help. I asked that he give me patience to deal with all these things happening to me.

I prayed for myself, my family, and the ummah at large.

I had no idea what to do next.

Allah had to guide me.

I needed his guidance, He is the only one who could ease my pain. Tears found tracks down my face as I prayed.

As I folded my mat, I made up my mind.

Let the future take its course.