Diary of a Soldier’s Child

Most Women don’t believe Women. Most Women don’t support Women. Most Women hurt other Women. Most Women allow Men hurt other Women because they have been hurt by Men. Some Men prey on Vulnerable Women and some of these Women end up dead or silenced by the trauma. The Men these Women love and choose to confide in - abandon them to their pain & blame them for getting raped! It’s a lot… 

 What can we do? Who will believe these women? Who will help us? How can these be stopped? What role are you playing to end all these? Who are you raising? How are you raising them? What morals do you teach them? Have you checked on HER?

HADIZA’S TURN

The fruit seller by the mosque gate which is just opposite the medical center is Aunty Rita- Hannah’s elder sister, Hannah is my friend and seat mate in school. 

I saw the surprise on both their faces when they saw me approaching the mosque gate in an hijab with Fatima. Hannah ran to me and touched my forehead “Ah ah! Amarya.” She said and laughed in an hysterical way - the kind of laughter that makes you want to cry and push her at the same time, then she started singing & dancing like an Indian, mimicking the character Sunita from that Indian movie. 

Fatima looked at me as if reading my mind and shook her head sideways telling me not to mind Hannah. 

I ignored Hannah and proceeded to greet her elder sister. “Ehnn good evening… she answered, looking at me in a strange way. “How you dey na, Wetin make you wear hijab sef, these children the things wey dey hungry una ehnn! But the thing fit you sha- oya help me wash those oranges sharp sharp give your friend make she arrange them for that big tray there before mosque close, Hannah! stop that rubbish come arrange these fruits for here jor.” 

Hannah came to join me and started asking me what I’m doing wearing an hijab, and that if I want to be a Muslim I would have to abandon my parents and live in the mosque for two years. 

“That’s not true!” Fatima yelled. “Na true jor, na Wetin Toheeb tell me.”

It was time for prayers, Fatima left us and went inside the mosque to pray and said she’ll be back to call me when it’s time. “Time for what?” Hannah asked, but neither I nor Fatima answered her. 

So you wan be Muslim true true? I go tell your mother about Babatunde. 

So Babatunde is a boy that likes me in school, he’s half white, cute and his parents are rich too - he literally brings all his toys to school because of me, he shares his lunch with me also and tells me about his holiday trips abroad.

I wonder why Hannah would bring him up. Jealousy maybe. 

She continued her query…

When I didn’t answer her, she changed the topic and asked me if I’ve done my homework, “which one?” I asked her; the social studies and the maths. I’ve done the maths but not the social studies. “Then let’s do the social studies together here, she said, “my books dey here.” 

She went behind to where the remaining sack of fruits was kept and brought out her exercise book and a textbook from under the bench there. I looked at the mosque briefly before telling Hannah that I’m not with my books. “It’s the same thing,” she said “Let’s just do it using mine and I’ll follow you home so you can copy it into yours.” 

Okay let’s start, “but when Fatima comes I will follow her o whether we finish or not.” Hannah nodded okay in agreement. 

We were done with the assignment in no time and at that point, the hijab was making me so uncomfortable that I had to take it off. I don’t know if Hannah noticed, because she didn’t say anything about it, and I was grateful for her silence. 

It was dark already and Fatima hasn’t come out from the mosque yet, even though prayers were over and people were seen coming out from the mosque and going to their houses. I wonder what’s keeping her there. 

Let it not be that she decided to go through with it without coming to get me because she felt compromised by Hannah. I brushed that thought out of my mind and washed my fruits at the tap by the hospital fence and started eating them. 

Hannah went to join Aunty Rita to pack up for the night. I followed her. After packing, Aunty Rita sat down and said we should all wait for uncle Sule to come and escort us back home. Uncle Sule is aunty Rita’s close friend or something like that.  He drives a blue Peugeot that makes her so proud. 

Just then, we saw Fatima coming out from the mosque, she was crying. 

We tried to ask her why she was crying but she didn’t answer. She started running towards her block, I ran and caught up with her, she stopped running and we were both breathing heavily and panting. She was still crying when she said “he said today is for Hadiza.” 

After she said this, she walked away quietly and I didn’t stop her or go after her this time. I turned around and went home. 

Hannah didn’t show up at my house again that night so I can copy the social studies assignment we did together. I wanted to use her as an excuse for coming home late that night  (it was almost 8pm) but no one asked my whereabouts, everyone seemed hungry, tired and busy until dinner was ready. We ate and slept. 

That night I had a dream and in the dream, I saw Fatima pregnant, sleeping on a bed and talking with Mrs Taiwo, our English teacher , then Hadiza emerged from nowhere and started laughing and pointing at Fatima, I stood there shouting but it seemed no one could hear me, then I saw him also… the one that damaged me, the one I and my siblings call “uncle,”- my father’s best friend, he was laughing hysterically with Hadiza. Still in the dream, we had left the place Fatima was, we were now at the mosque. 

Someone walked to Hadiza , I couldn’t make out the face of the person, he whispered something to Hadiza, then she turned to where I was standing and started running towards me.. I ran while screaming “daddy! Save me! I didn’t realize I was screaming out loud in real life until I felt someone tapping my shoulder. 

When I opened my eyes, I was sweating profusely, my brother’s face was there with his mouth opened (his morning breath was horrible) he was staring at me like a ghost. I quickly realized I had been dreaming and sat upright.

Then he asked me “Sisi, why you dey shout Uncle name for your dream?”