There's no need to worry, I'm really alright, I've never looked back, as a matter of fact, it only hurts when I'm breathing, my heart only breaks when it's beating, my dreams only die when I'm dreaming, so I hold my breath to forget.
—————
~ J A N N A H ~
—————
It hurts. Far beyond what words can explain and not even the tears that have been rolling down my cheeks like a waterfall could empty out the grief that has filled me to the brim. I didn't think it was possible to feel more pain than this or cry harder than this but the moment Daddy entered into the house, I realized I was wrong.
I realized that seeing Maryam's body still, unmoving and shrouded in white was only the smoke, the fire of anguish that burned me raw was when Daddy and Abba and a few others my aching head couldn't recognize, came in with a wooden stretcher and transported Maryam into it.
That scene left me feeling like my soul was being dragged out of my body. I couldn't do anything, I couldn't help it and my body was stiff as it watched the bulk of it's essence being hauled away from it.
I tried to breathe but I couldn't, I tried to blink and close my eyes from seeing Umma and Mommy and everyone else wailing and following behind Maryam but I couldn't. I tried to follow behind them but when I took the first step, my legs gave way and I found myself falling powerlessly to the floor.
I wanted to feel that physical pain of my body crashing to the floor, I needed to feel the pain so it could distract me from this emotional torment but I never did, my body never reached the ground. I felt myself held in someone's warm embrace and when my blurry vision could discern who it was, I see Ahmad's mom.
All my emotions except hurt and pain had been dulled so that was why perhaps I wasn't even shocked to see her here. I even wished she would throw me to the ground again so I could wound myself and perhaps then, I'd forget the agony gnawing at my heart.
"Ssshhh honey, you're okay, you're alright." Mrs Sambo's voice lulls me as she guides me to the couch and sits me down. "Let me get you some water." she says but I stop her by holding her hand.
"I'm okay, thank you." my voice was cracked and hoarse.
Mrs Sambo nods and sits down besides me with a pitying smile pasted on her lips. I was glad that she still held my hand and didn't let go.
"Maryam is in a much better place, she's at peace now and her suffering in this world has been ceased. Allah is Mercy, remember that, Allah is the Most Loving, He loves her more than anyone on this earth does and He has decided that it's time for her to come back to Him, Jannah. All we can do is continue praying for her and pray that we'll meet in paradise." her voice is soothing and it is stained with that same accent of Ahmad's.
I should do something to show her that her words have comforted me but I couldn't do anything except hold her hand tighter and let a wave of sobs break through me.
I feel void and broken and beaten to a pulp and the most agitating part of it was that no matter how much I wept, I felt no relief. These tears weren't even a salve to the gaping wound on my heart, all they did was drain the life out of me and make me feel even deeper, the piece I've lost.
"Honey, it's okay ssshhh," Mrs Sambo envelopes me in a hug and for what feels like ages, we stay like that.
"Just breathe, it's okay, breathe in and breathe out." she says after we broke up and I start hiccoughing. "It's okay Jannah, breathe, breathe..."
I manage to do as Mrs Sambo said and soon enough, I calm myself. I see Umma and Mommy entering back into the house and that no doubt means Maryam has been taken away to the mosque by the men. I wished I was allowed to go with them, to be with her till the very last second before she is enclosed in the earth but I wasn't. Females weren't allowed to attend Janazah prayers and burials so those few moments ago were the last I would ever see her and then, those thoughts provoke a fresh wave of tears out of me.
This time I sobbed softly, wiping away my tears as they fell from my face with my sleeve. I didn't want to continue making a scene and having Mrs Sambo console me but she still did anyways making me see that this woman has a heart of gold.
She's dressed in a hijab that pooled at her feet and her fair face was masked with pure concern as she looked at me through hazel eyes, the same as Ahmad's. She squeezes my hand again and helps me wipe a tear on my left cheek before whispering a verse from the Quran in her perfect Arabic.
"ا لَّذِي خَلَقَ الْمَوْتَ وَالْحَيَاةَ لِيَبْلُوَكُمْ أَيُّكُمْ أَحْسَنُ عَمَلًا ۚ وَهُوَ الْعَزِيزُ الْغَفُور.
"He Who created Death and Life, that He may try which of you is best in deed: and He is the Exalted in Might, Oft-Forgiving."
I clasp her hand and squeeze it back, letting the meaning of the verse sink into me and indeed, I did feel my grief lessen. Allah has created Death as a test for us all and I mustn't let myself weaken and lose hope because He decided to try that test on me. He is the Most Merciful, He is the Most Loving so indeed, Maryam is at peace with Him. She has went back to a home we all will go back to no matter how late we are, she has gone back to her Lord, her Master, her Creator and we all will follow her in time.
I nod and squeeze my eyes close, letting what I hope to be the last of my tears cascade down my cheeks. I'm not going to let myself cry anymore, I'm only going to keep on praying for her. She might be gone but our friendship isn't over, it'll continue till the end of my life, and then continue when we both meet in Paradise where we'll never separate.
"Thank you." I mouthed to Mrs Sambo and she hugs me again, which I'm very grateful for.
"It's okay honey, just stay strong okay?" she cooes as she circles my back with her palm.
"Jannah my daughter," came Mommy's voice and I pull away from Mrs Sambo. "This sister here has said that she's the mother of one of Maryam's students. I'm very grateful that she came, thank you sister." she turned to Mrs Sambo who smiled in return.
"You're welcome, and please call me Kulthum. May your daughter find peace in the akhira (afterworld) and may you find peace here in the dunya (world) bearing her loss."
The two shared a hug for a while and Mommy offered to bring Kulthum Sambo something to eat or drink but she politely declined.
Mommy excused herself and left us alone again. I then started to wonder what Yasin must be going through right now. Through out today, I was too busy handling my own pain to think about the tenfolds of it he must be going through.
I haven't even seen him since morning and I know he wasn't seated outside in the male gathering since Daddy and Abba have asked me where he was multiple times. I know it'll be too hard for him to sit out there as tens of people keep coming and giving their condolences, only reminding him again and again that this has really happened.
Yasin was supposed to be a man and sit at her funeral gathering, accepting the condolences and the prayers. He was supposed to be there when it was time for the Janazah prayers, he was supposed to be among her stretcher-bearers but I didn't see him. I just hope wherever he is, in how many shattered pieces he is, he can gather himself up and stand at the congregation of her janazah and the prayers when she's finally buried in the cemetery. It won't be easy but now, that's what Maryam needs him to do for her.
"Honey," Mrs Sambo snaps me out of my thoughts and with a heavy, aching head, I turn to her. "It'll be okay alright? Just continue praying for her."
I nod and smile before she continues. "Ahmadina's deeply worried about you Jannah. He made us come straight here after you sent him that message."
I couldn't bring myself to answer any of my calls earlier and perhaps it was because it was Ahmad that I could even muster enough strength to type that text and send it to him.
"Thank you ma'am, tell him that I'm grateful and that I'm fine." I croaked a reply.
"I will insha Allah. He'd feel better hearing that. He also wants you to know that he cares for you very, very much. That he'd want to be the person who'll always be there for you through the darkest of nights and the most trying of times." her tone was soft and it held a depth of beseeching.
She must know then. Ahmad must've told her that he proposed to me on that Monday before she had bursted into his room. She must know that I was yet to reply and even now, I have no reply. I just can't, not now and not anytime soon.
My whole world feels like it's turned upside down, it feels like I'm lost and confused and completely stripped of everything that makes me feel whole. A week ago, this would have been my dream but now, it's not. I don't even know what I want anymore.
"Tell him that I'm grateful." was all I said before getting up and mumbling an excuse.
I went upstairs and opened up Maryam's room, locking the door after me. It was more than unbelievable, this overwhelming feeling of shock and disbelief that crippled me as I looked around the room. Everything was there, not a thing was out of place, how could everything be so normal when the owner of the room was no longer in this world? How was it that the earth was still spinning despite the fact of Maryam not being in it? How was it possible that there was air, that the wind and the breeze still blew despite Maryam not being anywhere to feel it?
Before I knew it, I had relapsed back into my state of despair as I sank to my knees and let the torment and pain I felt in my soul escape though my lips in bone piercing cries.
-----
A week passed by in similar fashion except now my cries where in my own room not Maryam's. Another Friday has now rolled around and all I've been doing with my time is lying on bed and reading the Quran and praying. I've never felt so emotionally damaged, so despondent before and I know clinging onto my faith is the only thing that can start to heal me. I still feel that pain like it was yesterday and I feel trapped in an ocean of sadness, and no matter how hard I swim, I can't get myself out of it.
I swallow a sob as I look at myself in the mirror. My outer reflection looks exactly like how I feel inside; empty. My face is bony and devoid of it's brightness, my cheeks are sunken, dark circles rest under my eyes, my lips are in that permenant position they've been since that Friday exactly a week ago; tight in a frown and trembling. I see how my shapely figure has been straightened. They are no longer curves of fat "lying in all the right places" as Maryam has once called them. I just feel ruined to the core and if not for the hundreds of verses from the Quran I've been reading and the multiple times I've pressed my forehead in total surrender and submission to my Lord, I would have said that I had no hope of repair.
But then, in between all of that, there's something else that brings a smile to my face no matter the weight of melancholy I wake up with every single morning. It is these short messages of hope and upliftment Ahmad has been sending me every single day for the past seven days. I never reply but still, every day at dawn when I wake up to pray, I meet a new message and at night when I lie on bed to sleep, I meet another new message. They always are no more than thirty words but they do more in making me feel better than a thousand word essay would.
Now my phone is in my hand as I sit before the dressing mirror and eventhough it's past 3 pm in the evening and I've already read and re read the message Ahmad had sent me this morning, I still open up the text and reading it, my lips let go of their stubborn stance and form a smile.
Only in the darkest of nights, can you see the brightest of stars and you, my love, are a brilliant supernova of strength.
I can't help but imagine what those words will sound like coming from his lips, how his accent will sound when he calls me "his love." I have been feeling a bit guilty for how I treated his mom that day but I hope Mrs. Sambo will understand that back then, I wasn't in the right state of mind and I just needed time to process everything. There was nothing that could take away my love for Ahmad, I am in grief for Maryam but I still and will always love him.
I am following Maryam's advice, I'm only going on with this after I am absolutely sure that he isn't playing me and I hope she's pleased. I believe that all he's said is true cause what better proof of that is there than. his persistent commitment towards me? He has been patient and comforting and considerate throughout these days. He has never called me since he knows I'm in no state to try to want to talk to people right now but still he hasn't withdrawm from me. He still sends me these messages every single day to show that he's giving me space to heal but he still cares just as much.
The classes haven't been commenced since that Tuesday and next week, I'm thinking of calling up Mommy and asking her to tell Daddy to arrange for other supervisors to finish the lessons for this batch because I know there was no way I could continue without Maryam. I would probably have a mental breakdown every single day if I was faced with handling the classes we've always handled together without her. I have been controlling that shock of Maryam not being around by doing that thing that makes me feel better but everyone else thinks is absurd.
Whenever the feelings were trying to overtake me and overwhelm me too much, all I do is close my eyes and shelter myself from those haunting and taunting reminders of Maryam's absence in the dark. I find peace in the nothingness of pitch black dark that's why night is my favorite time of the day. I find it is the place I can abandon my misery since I couldn't see the emptiness that now surrounds me when I opened my eyes, I just closed them and willed them to remain eternally closed if it meant I could handle this pain of seperation from Maryam with less pain.
And so now too, I let my lids close and let that comforting darkness embrace me until I hear a knock on my door and they snapped open to the world of the sighted where the afternoon sun was peeping through my curtains. More often than not, I had found myself wishing to be like Ahmad, to be freed from this burden of sight so I can live and enjoy that feeling of euphoric nothingness only darkness could provide.
I sigh as I turn my head to the door and didn't even need to answer before it opened up, revealing Umma coming in with somewhat of a jovial expression.
"It's good that you're about to get ready Jannah." she says after she sees that I was sitting by the mirror. "He's already here so hurry up."
I didn't need any clarifications to know that by he, Umma was referring to that Faisal Ibrahim. I can't believe he won't leave me alone even now. It was clear that I needed space but since Maryam passed, he hasn't given me any. He has my parents on his side so it was easy for him to be dropping by at our house and asking to see me. He's the total opposite of Ahmad.
"Okay Umma, I'll just pray and come out." I answered, grabbing my hijab and sprawling out my prayer mat.
"Okay don't take long and today, I'll need to clean up this room myself." she looks around at the mess I've been living in since I lost the will to look after myself before she tsks and leaves the room.
I started praying Asr and since these days my prayers are extra long because I always spend a long while praying for Maryam and praying for Allah to give me the strength to overcome this test, I took nearly forty minutes before I came out of the gates of the house to see Faisal inside his car. I was actually praying that he got tired of waiting for me and left but unfortunately for me, the guy was still here and he came out of his car immediately, grinning from ear to ear as he looked at me.
"It's only two days to go before I get my answer!" Faisal says to me before even greeting me. "And I know, my darling, it'll be a yes. I mean I've been so patient with you and I'm still even interested in you despite you looking like that." his tone suggests disgusts and he didn't need to point at me for me to know he was gesturing to how I had let myself go.
I didn't bother to dress up anymore and my face as well as body has changed. Even now, I only had on a giant flowing hijab that covered every part of me with my pyajamas under it so immediately I got back to my room, I could easily remove it and collapse back on my bed. By now, I was used to the fact that Faisal said everything that came to his mind without minding how rude it sounds and by now, I don't give a crap about anything he says or thinks about me so I couldn't care less about wanting to look good for him. He had more or less just called me ugly and I wish he would just leave me alone since that's what he thought of me anyways but I have no idea why he's still sticking to me like a leech.
"Yes, let's wait for Monday." I reply flatly as I eye his lax and conceited demeanour.
Faisal was dressed like he usually was in a kaftan and hula and some expensive watch that he keeps flashing at my face, on his wrist. He leaned onto his black Venza and was looking like he was the most generous and kind human in the world for being with me right now. He looked at me like some charity case and sure treated me like one too.
"You see what you like?" Faisal had noticed me staring and of course took it for something else as a stupid grin grew on his face. He leans a little bit too close to me and I had to step back. "Its okay, you can look at me for as long as you'd like. We are going to be married soon and then after that, I'll show you what more there is to me in the bedroom."
I instantly stepped back further away from him feeling disgusted as well as afraid. Faisal had proved that he wasn't just rude, he was also completely mannerless, how could he talk to a girl like this and still expect her to like him and actually agree to marry him?
"My darling, no need to be shy." he chuckles, shaking his head. "I promise you, you'll love what I have in store for you once we're finally alone in a room. You'll never want me to stop and-"
"Faisal!" I stop his profanities before they get any worst. "We're not married yet so you better respect that and know how to talk to me."
"Oooh Tigress," he looks swooned and even pleased while I'm left utterly dazed. "fiesty, aren't we? I can't wait to see how you'll be once we're in bed, I like a woman who takes charge, if you know what I mean." he chuckles and I decide I've had enough of his debauchery.
"You know what, why don't we just forget Monday and I give you my answer today?"
"Really darling?" Faisal's eagerness was clear in his tone, "If I knew this was all it was going to take, I would have told you about my bedroom skills a long time ago so go ahead, tell me your answer, tell me how much you want me, tell me yes." he continues smugly as he smiles at me contently, waiting for my answer.
"You're a stupid piece of shit Faisal, I want nothing to do with you." I let myself blurt out and relish at his flabbergasted experiession. "My answer is no! It was always no from the beginning but I never said it because I thought that yes, you're right, you do deserve a chance but now I realize you don't! You weren't caring to me when Maryam passed, hell you didn't even acknowledge it! All you talked about was yourself and now, you just proved that you have absolutely no shame nor respect towards me!"
"Are you kidding me right now?" he laughs, humourlessly and belittlingly. "Who are you to say all that to me? Calling me a piece of shit? Look at yourself in the mirror, you'll see that piece of shit staring right back at you. And for you saying no, who told you you have a say anyways? I've already decided that you are mine and you will be mine, one way or another." he steps closer, removing the safe distance I've created and the fire I see raging in his eyes scares me eventhough there's a smile on his lips.
"Now my darling," Faisal's hand traces my cheek as he stares down at me and I feel his hot breath fanning my face. I've never been so petrified in my life. "like I was saying, I love a woman who takes charge so don't look at me like that, don't fear me, go back to being the Tigress you were. If... you... dare." he said that last sentence under his breath, as a deadly threat and it did work on me because I felt every hair on my body stand at attention.
I didn't know when I had pushed him away and ran back into the house with my hand over my pounding heart. I ran straight to my room and locked the door. Feeling insulted and violated, all I could do not to let myself crumble and let a lowlife such as Faisal get to me is bury myself under my covers and calm my shivers.
When I come to, I manage to sit upstraight and rest my bed on my headboard. I took a sip from the glass of water on my cupboard and that was when I realized how clean my room was. Mama had cleaned it like she said. There were no longer piles upon piles of clothes on the floor and pieces of paper and what not scattered everywhere.
I hear a loud and urgent knock on my door and since I had locked it, I had to get up to my feet to open it up and when I did, I saw it was Umma, looking upset and I immediately knew it was about the Faisal situation. If Faisal had ratted me out to her, then he was even more of an idiot than I thought he was and I know she was now going to accuse me yet again of chasing her "perfect son in law" away but if I could get her to hear me out, I know she would see Faisal as the asshole he is.
"Baza ki matsa ki ban hanya in shigo ba? (Won't you move and allow me to come into the room?)" Umma shoves me as she comes in and her speaking in our language makes everything more serious.
When I close the door and she stands before me with her arms akimbo, I prepare myself for the worst but no way am I even going to consider that Faisal ever again even if she gets Abba to talk me into it.
"Jannah, mene ne wannan? (What is this?)" Umma holds up a folded paper to my face and I'm surprised to know this conversation wasn't at all headed in the direction I thought it was.
Umma was holding up Ahmad's letter. That same letter Maryam had read to me. That same letter I treasured but then I was too lost in the ocean of despair to care about where I had kept it all these days and I'm sure Umma found it while she was cleaning my room.
"It's a letter Umma," so be it, Umma wanted a son in law and that son in law is going to be Ahmad, she'll find out today. "It's from Ahmad Sambo, he asked me to marry him more than a week ago." I explain.
"Ahmad Sambo? That Arab woman, Kulthum is her name right?" I nod before she continued. "She came to the Jada's house for Maryam's Janazah, she's his mother right?"
I give the affirmative answer, nervous of what Umma would say. She was incredibly unpredictable most times.
"This Kulthum said that he was yours and Maryam's student. And you and Maryam only tutored blind people, so Jannah, is this Ahmad Sambo blind?"
I nod again, bracing myself for the outcome of her knowing about this.
"Are you crazy Jannah?! Na daɗe ina son in hana ki zuwa wannan matsiyacin gurin (I've always wanted to stop you from going to that wretched place) but your father always supported you and you doing that job and now Jannah, you are even thinking of marrying someone who is blind!? Jannah, what is wrong with you!? Jannah, in kika je kids auri makaho zaman bauta kika ɗauro ma kanki ba zaman aure ba! (Jannah, if you marry a blind person, you've gotten yourself into a life of servitude not of marriage!)"
I was completely surprised. I wasn't expecting a pleasant reaction but no way was I expecting such a negative reaction. She has always been the one who was encouraging me to go into relationships so I could finally get married and when here's someone whom I love and is willing to marry me right this moment, she has a problem with it simply because he's blind?
Umma slumped down on my bed and held her head in her short, stubby fingers as she continued her scolding fits in a much gentler tone but with just as harsher words in our language.
"Ke wace irin shashasha ce wai? Wannan yarinyan, wannan yarinyan... kai jama'a! (What kind of a fool are you? This girl, this girl, oh my!)" she shakes her head slowly and abjectly, her behavior shouting it at my face that she was deeply disappointed at me and for what? For loving and wanting to marry a blind man?
"I'm sorry Umma, dan Allah kiyi mun haƙuri (please be patient with me.)" I plead with her because there's nothing I'm more ashamed of in this world than my parents being disappointed in me.
"Enough." she raises her hand up with an air of finality. "Your father is coming back from the South tomorrow, he and Faisal's father are going to discuss a date for your engagement. Am I clear?"
"But Umma," I kneel down in front of her and rest my hands on her laps. "I don't like Faisal at all, he's not a good person Umma, I don't want to marry him."
"Ai dama! Dama na sani! (I knew it, I knew it all along!) Now that you want to go spoil your life and marry some blind person, you can make up whatever lies to tell about Faisal but I'm telling you Jannah, this time I'm not going to tolerate this. Faisal is the man you're going to marry and that's it."
I tried to plead again but I fumbled over the words and she raised her head and this time when she looked at me, it was with a more subtle look, imploring me to consider the state she herself was in.
"Wai ni Salma! Yaya zan yi da kai na? (oh poor me Salma! What do I do with myself?) I only have two children in this world and one has lost himself to grief! All he does now is abuse sleeping pills and only God knows what and the other wants to ruin her life and marry a blind man! Kaico, kaico ni, ban yi sa'ar ɗiya na su sani farin ciki ba. (poor me, poor me, I'm not fortunate enough to have my children make me happy.)" now Umma has tears in her eyes and I feel even more horrible and ashamed.
Yasin's state was unutterable, he has completely resigned and is lost. I have tried my best to try to help him, to take care of him because Maryam would never want to see him like this but all he did was snob all of our efforts, sometimes even turning violent. When I had found the antidote to my pain in my faith and the comfort of closing my eyes and dwelling in the oblivion of darkness, he had found it in countless bottles of pills and now he is letting himself rot away with substance abuse. Umma cries over this every day and now, I have just added to the burden of her worries.
She brushes my hands off her and mumbles a few more words of disappointment in our language before stumping out and slamming the door shot loudly.
I deserve for her to be angry and dissapointed in me but none of that should be because of Ahmad's blindness. Why would him being blind make it impossible for me to be happy with him? I can't explain why but if anything, to me, his blindness is what attracts me more to him and makes me love him more.
For the rest of the day Umma didn't talk to me and kept giving me the silent treatment even while we were having dinner which I only came down for tonight so I could see if she would allow me to talk everything out with her. She didn't and she didn't even look my way while we were eating. I wished Abba was here then he would have listened to me, he would have understood me. But tomorrow he'll be back from the South and immediately he's here, I'll tell him everything and get him to convince Umma.
A knock sounded on the front door and Umma went to get it, probably so she wouldn't have to tell me to go get it and thus break the silent treatment.
"Kulthum, what a pleasant surprise!" Umma squeals from behind me and immediately turn my head towards the door.
It was indeed her. Mrs Sambo was stood walking towards the living room with Umma and my heart stopped when I saw that she wasn't alone, Ahmad was also following behind her.
A/N
Lyrics from the first paragraph up above are from Shania Twain's "It Only Hurts When I'm Breathing."