It took Amina a whole day to get back to 'normal'. If honesty had to be put in, there was no type of normal that could ever come from knowing that the man who you slept in a bed with and made a child with, killed the said child because of money. It was hard to believe and a harder pill to swallow. 

Amina believed it though, because her ears didn't hear wrong. If anything else was wrong, the reaction he had after she found out was enough to let her know that it was the truth. This truth however, hurt like someone had pulled a cleaver from her heart. 

She felt dirty, used and disgusted with herself for being so Blindsided that the man who told her they could have another child, who consoled her so carefully even though she didn't care for him was the killer of her child. 

The whole one hour thirty minutes bus ride from oshogbo to Ibadan was spent in tears. The hijab she had hastily thrown on bore the brunt of her tears and when she stepped off the bus, people gave her pitying looks. Her fellow passengers who had contributed amongst themselves to pay her transport fare, wondered what would make such a young woman cry so hard that she lost her breath and accepted no consolation. 

On the bike ride to her Father's house, Amina out a hand on her head in sheer sorrow. She paid the bike man from the little scraps of money she found in her pyjamas pocket and went to knock the gate.

No doubt, the bike rider would worry and then go tell others that he saw Alhaji's daughter crying. They would then remember that it was said a few days before that she lost her only child, and must be reeling from the loss. No one  could ever link her child's death to her husband's greed. No one. 

When Mukaila opened the gate, Amina walked in like the dead, she then noticed that she had left oshogbo with two different slippers. She walked further into the sprawling compound that was the home she had grown up in. When she entered the main living room, she didn't touch the Arabic calligraphy that her father had so lovingly shipped from Madina at his last visit nor did she realize that the living room rug where AbdulKareem had poured some water the last time he had come had been changed. None of that mattered because she was mourning her child all over again and this time, the pain was fresh. In a way that she didn't know possible.

"Maami!" She howled for her mother and because she shut her eyes, she didn't see that her mother who had seen her walk in from the gate was rushing down the stairs despite her arthritis. When she reached Amina, her heart stopped for a second and she had to stop her brisk walk to hold her chest for a second. 

"Onikede? Kiloshele?" Amina shook her head and cried harder. She howled and screamed, trashing around when her mother tried to hold her. 

"Maami! Ah, aye Mii baje." Her mother did the universal sign for forbidding evil, a fix of her thumb and index finger circled over her head. Amina shook her head over and over, tears from her eyes flew around and some wet her mother's fingers. 

"Kassim pamilomo. He killed my child Maami! Oh Allah!" Her mother slowly raised her palm to cover her mouth but wondered with her eyes roving and her brain calculating what could have happened, Amina was never one to accuse anyone indiscriminately. But, nothing prepared her for Amina's response. 

"He used AbdulKareem for money ritual, o fi omo mi she Ogun owo!" Her mother who was comforting her screamed and instinctively laid both her arms on her head and began to wail. Wailing was different from tears, tears could just be running down tracks to the chin and chest without being stopped, wailing was, tears would come down but there was never one track for it to go. 

They both sat there for hours and rocked each other, crying for their loss. 

*

"You said you stabbed him?" 

Amina bobbed her head at her father, her head down, knowing the berating that would come. She had let her anger get the best of her and she was ashamed of it. 

"You did well. A tiger never births a dog. Good of you! Their useless family will know never to mess with mine." Amina raised her head in surprise at her father and tears welled up in her eyes again at her father's support. 

"Báami. Thank you." Her father waved his head and visibly sighed at the thought of his grandchild being born and lost in such a manner. He suddenly felt energetic when he realized something. 

"They can't even come here to make noise because if they do pim? I'll sing like a canary at the police headquarters. That day, they'll know my name. They'll know I'm not their mate!" No one could laugh because if the heaviness of the situation. They only sighed and leaned back on their chairs, the television played listlessly, occupying the silence. 

"Onikede?" Her father called out from his relaxed position on the chair, and Amina raised her head to answer. "Walk me again through the process of stabbing him and what led to it." 

Amina wiped her eyes and shut her eyes, trying to remember how because she had seen Kassim, he picked up a piece of slightly heavy wood and came rushing towards her, she who had a headstart because she was close to the door, ran to the kitchen and locked it. Picking up two knives, arming herself with them with a heaving chest. 

He asked her to come out and they could rectify everything but she refused to come out and seeing as she was hell bent on being unreasonable, he began to forcefully push the door, trying to force his way in. The door wasn't too strong and could not withstand that much strong pushes, so it gave way and in he came with a larger piece of wood that Amina knew would do a huge damage to her if it reached her. 

So, she did the first thing that came to her head, throw the very sharp knife in her hand and with an accurate aim, it landed between his ribs. Amina who had thrown the knife had no idea how it got there and seeing the blood gushing out, Kassim on the floor in pain, she ran into the room and picked a bag, throwing a few clothes into it before running off to Ibadan. 

"Then, you have no blame. Just let them come, they'll find me here waiting." Her father got up and went to his room to change for Maghrib prayers as soon as the adhaan was called and all over again, Amina let her pain run fresh, she let the tears that had built up around her eyes fall slowly and her heart ached with a fervor she never knew existed. All she wanted was her son and she could never have him, that alone intensified her pain. 

"Maami. So I won't ever see AbdulKareem again? Because of Kassim?" Her mother got up from the sofa she was on and pulled her closer to her. Usually when she smelt her mother and felt her warmth, she loved it, it calmed her but this time, she wanted nothing but her son. 

"You'll be reunited in Jannah and that is all that matters. You'll always pray for him because he came out of you and you loved him so wholeheartedly." Her mother cupped her hands and began a dua, with tears slowly taking a track down her youthful skin, Amina in her own pain didn't answer, instead she silently cried, hiccuping at some point due to the extent of her sobs. 

**********

Heyooo people 🥳🥳🥳🥳

How are you all? Miss me?

So, I finished my exams and I have no more semesters left at the University (That was what I was away doing) and now I'm a graduate.  Please say a prayer for me when I cross your mind.

Also, I realize that this chapter is a bit short, I understand completely, I should send over AbdulRahman's part in the next few hours (that's if you leave votes and comments)

See you in a few hours then, I'll be watching. Ciao bellas.

TheOmoope