Fallible

twenty

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“I remember I warned you to smartly play your games” Alhaji Adebola began.

“I told you your reckless life must not in the least way affect her. I advised you to tell her before the Nikah, this isn’t something to be kept hidden from your spouse-to-be. But you are Mubeen after all; my advice had never mattered to you. When you turned a new leaf and decided to seek knowledge, I thought you will seek wisdom with it.” he tapped his temple with his index finger.

“But only Allah grants wisdom to those whom he wishes. This charade could have been avoided if you had open up to her!” he paused to control his anger. “I want you out of my apartment immediately! Pick up your suspension letter from the office and sort out this mess!”

“And this must not get to the media!” he announced on his way out of the living room.

Mubeen looked haggard and drained as he sat with a thud on the Sofa. He should have listened to his father. During one of the halqah sessions he attended in the UK, he learnt that one does not go about spilling one’s misdeeds. Whatever it is that happened between him and Faariah was a misdeed, it wasn’t even valid from the beginning, it was zina.  Since he had done tawbah, he then decided he wasn’t going to tell anyone not even Salmah. After the solemnisation, he sought for Shaykh Sameer’s opinion and he advised he told her before she hears it from other people. But then he couldn’t bring himself to tell her, fearful of what her reaction would be. He sincerely didn’t want to hurt her. She got hurt anyways.

“What are you still doing here?!” Mamman Suhail shouted on entering the living room.

“Didn’t you hear what your father said? Get the hell out of this place now! Idiot! Stupid boy! Is this how I taught you? Is this how I brought you up? To hurt women? To betray people’s trust? No wonder you rejected Maryam’s proposal, you had someone you were sleeping with already there, abi?”

“Ammii... wallahi it’s not like that” he cried

“It’s like how? Tell me oo, shaykh Mubeen, it’s like how? And you’ll be doing waasi about, abi?! So you can cry? Men don’t cry remember? You got married and nobody knew! Nobody! We have barely recovered from the death of your sister, and then this! Ehn?!”

“I’m sorry Ammii. Ammii, please forgive me. Ammii please.” He held her legs and sobbed in tail of her gown.

“Get off me! Idiot! Look, I’m going to the hospital now to bring Salmah home. I must not meet you here because she won’t be staying with you again. She’ll be in Umaymah’s room till she feels better, and if she decides to go home afterwards, I won’t stop her” she affirmed and left him sobbing on the tiled floor.

“Ammii please... please...please...please. Yaa Allah...” he placed his head on the sofa and sobbed in it. His mom was his favourite person after Allah and His Rasul, he can’t withstand her anger and displeasure in him. Where should he even start from? Salmah had given orders to the hospital that she doesn’t want to entertain his visit. She doesn’t want to see him. How should he sort this? He needed to explain things to her, he needed to seek her forgiveness, and mend his relationship with his parents. If his mom met him there, she can practically hit him with anything she finds handy, he knew his mom too well. No child is above getting hit. He wiped his tears and left for Suhail’s house.

He nearly got into an accident driving to Suhail’s house. How could he be forgiven? He killed his unborn child. Knowingly or unknowingly, he was responsible. Which mother will forgive the killer of her child and grandchild? He was always the bad child; he was still the bad child even at adulthood. He parked outside the gate and walked in. Even the gateman had to look at him thrice to be sure it was him.