Chapter 11: Chapter 11

When a man is denied the right to live the life he believes in, he has no choice but to become an outlaw.

-Nelson Mandela

Three weeks after I returned to mother’s house, Ibrahim and Yusuf also came back from Madrasat. They look disheveled. When I complained about their look, Ibrahim said it was because they study late and barely had time for anything else. Yusuf looked at him with contempt. “Are you guys fighting again” I asked. “He is jealous that I was accepted into a higher class, technically I’m his senior” Ibrahim said smiling. Yusuf smirked. “In your dream, not if I don’t return to that godforsaken place”. “You better don’t let father hear that” I said. “I will tell him eventually” he replied with determination in his voice. “I heard your final exam result was out, how was it?” “Did father not tell you?” Ibrahim asked. “No he didn’t” I replied. Ibrahim jacked his cloth dramatically, “let me introduce to you the student with the best senior school certificate result in the state” he said. “You don’t mean it?” I exclaimed. “Yes I do” Ibrahim replied smiling triumphantly. I came close to hug him but he quickly backed away from me. “Eh! Excuse me; I’m a big boy now I don’t need cuddling” he said and we laughed. Yusuf was looking at us indifferently. I waved my hand in front of his eyes, “hello this one that you are looking like this. I hope you didn’t flunk any of your papers?” I asked. Yusuf smirked at me, “of course I didn’t”. “Then why the funny face” I asked. “For starters, I don’t see how the best result in the state translates to cash in Nigeria” he said giving Ibrahim an exasperated look. Ibrahim stuck his tongue out at him. “Don’t be a kill joy,” I told him. Yusuf shook his head and seem to ask a silent question, “How are you managing not to see the obvious?” He reclined in his chair and yawned loudly which I suspected was an intentional act that meant he was bored.

When did you return from campus? Ibrahim asked. “I’ve been around for a while” I replied. “Have you been to father’s place?” he asked with an anticipating smile on his face. “No but I have his address. I called him before I left school” I told him. “I wish we are allowed to use phone in the boarding house, I would have taken your former phone with me and call him every day. He must be lonely” Ibrahim said. I looked at his serious face and realized he meant it. “You are father’s good boy; no one is contesting that. But when did you become his lover taking over mum’s place” I said laughing and Yusuf joined. I thought he was going to stick his tongue at me but he aimed a cushion at my face which I blocked perfectly, and another round of laughter rolled out of my chest.

Yusuf and I were watching a movie, while Ibrahim was sitting at father’s corner checking out his Arabic text when mother returned. She was late as usual but this time a man accompanied her into the house. We greeted her chorusly. “Good evening” she replied looking surprise to see my brothers. “What did you cook,” she asked. “I made eba and egusi” I told her giving the man a questioning looks. “Oh! Adewale these are my children: Aisha, Yusuf and Ibrahim” mother said reading my expression. Immediately mother mentioned Ibrahim’s name he left the sitting room and went out. “Every family has a black sheep, don’t let that bother you,” mother said smiling sheepishly to the man. “Good evening Aisha and Yusuf” he greeted and we replied him. “Please serve us” mother said. I stayed rooted to the spot contemplating whether I heard serve me or serve us. “Aisha” she called and was already seated with the man. “Serve us” she repeated. I turned and forced my limbs to carry me, returned with the plate of food and water for washing and drinking but I couldn’t make my hand stop shaking. “Are you okay” the man asked. “Yeah I’m okay” I replied. I sat down and watch them ate together in a plate. I tried to remember the last time she ate with father but it was a faded memory. When they were through I cleared the table. Mother escorted the man outside and I waited patiently for her to return.

Yusuf didn’t see anything wrong in what we just witnessed together. Ibrahim that would have been my ally was never on mother’s good book. She personally held him responsible for father’s change of fortune. “I shouldn’t have given birth to you” she once told him. “You brought bad luck to this family.” I felt so bad for Ibrahim the day mother made those derogatory remarks. It wasn’t his fault that things changed after his birth. I’m sure he didn’t want that either, but there was no way I could explain to her.

Mother entered the sitting room and was heading straight to the bedroom when I stopped her. “Mother what are you doing?” I asked. “I’m leaving my life” she answered. “You are still married to father” I reminded her. “It’s a pity your father didn’t remember when he packed his load and left me here” she replied impassively. “He didn’t leave you behind, you refused to follow him” I said my voice louder than I intended. Mother narrowed her eyes at me. “Excuse me young lady. I’m I your mate now? Be very careful.” She turned to leave, then stopped and faced me. “And warn that brother of yours I didn’t raise mannerless children in this house. He should go to his father that can tolerate his nonsense” she said. Ibrahim came back inside the house, lay on the sofa and pretended not to hear her. “Wake that one to sleep properly his neck will pain him in the morning,” she said, pointing to Yusuf that I initially thought was witnessing our stare down.

Ibrahim returned from subuhi prayer very early in the morning, took his bag and said he was leaving for father’s place. He asked me for his address and told me to inform him he would be coming. I tried to calm him down. “I will be going to his place too, let’s walk together” I said. He shook his head like he couldn’t stand another minute in mother’s house. “Did one hadith not talk about walking in group being a blessing?” I asked as a way to persuade him. “Aljama’atu rahamat” Ibrahim translated in Arabic and even smiled a little.

I called father, he told us where to get the key to his apartment and Yusuf also decided to come with us. “I have a very important discussion with him anyway” he said. Are you still on the issue of not going back to Madrasat? I asked. “You thought I was kidding?” “Please don’t mention my name when you are telling him. As far as I am concern, you didn’t tell me anything” I said. “I wasn’t looking for your help” he replied. “Good I just want us to be clear on that,” I told him and he hissed. I was angry but Ibrahim winked at me to let it go.

When mother was ready to go to shop, I told her we would be leaving for father’s place by afternoon. She looked at Ibrahim then Yusuf. “Why do you two look like they cleaned hands on your body?” She asked pointing a finger at Yusuf. Yusuf looked down at his emaciated body and chuckled. “Mother our Modrasat is prison, they punish us for every mistake. We read day and night, no time to rest and no proper meal” Yusuf said. She looked at him with pity. “If any of you fall sick, I hope your father is ready to take full responsibility. Don’t call me o, he will pay your hospital bill and stay with you there.” she turned to me, “make sure you lock my door properly”. Her phone rang she picked up and hurried out of the house. I went to the kitchen to prepare our breakfast and Ibrahim joined to help me out. Yusuf sat in the sitting room scanning through TV stations. “Go and call him we are not his slaves” I commanded Ibrahim. He felt reluctant to go. “You know Yusuf wouldn’t answer me. And if you went to call him, he would rather prefer to forfeit his meal than join us. Let’s just do it for Allah’s sake” Ibrahim said. I knew it would be easier to force a horse to drink water than force Yusuf to do any chores. I only wanted to get back at him for hissing on me earlier, but I agreed with Ibrahim, it would be a waste of time. After we had eaten and rested, I packed my dirty clothes and the ones Ibrahim wore when he returned and washed it while Ibrahim washed the dishes.

When we were ready to leave for father’s place it was few minutes to 1:00. The moment Ibrahim stepped into the sun he said it was time for zuhr that we should pray before leaving. “You have started your fanatical dogma; did you hear athan from any mosque yet?” Yusuf said “fanatical” like it was the epitome of everything God despised, and “dogma” in the proud manner that people say a word they never knew they would learn until they do. “I’m not fanatical, that’s Islamic jurisdiction” Ibrahim countered. “The prayer that was observed at the appointed hour has more reward than the one performed later. It is time we practice Islam the way it was at the beginning. Moreover, how do you know there wouldn’t be traffic on the way making the hour for zuhr to elapse before we got home?” Ibrahim asked staring Yusuf down. “I will beat you if you are not careful” Yusuf said. I stared daggers at him. “How many times have I beaten you for disrespecting me,” I asked rhetorically. “If you don’t like to hear the truth do well not to ask for it” I told him. Ibrahim was leaving and suddenly turned to me “are you coming?” he asked. I knew Yusuf was not expecting me to backup my support for Ibrahim with action, and I didn’t want to give him the pleasure of laughing at me, so I followed Ibrahim putting my makeup face on the line. I thought Yusuf was going to join us to save face, but he simply opened the door and went back inside.

We entered a heavy traffic jam at dopemu and spent more than 1 hour. Ibrahim looked my way and his eyes seemed to say I said it. The road was finally through and the reason for the go-slow remained a mystery. Not long two flashy cars overtook us, the drivers where two young boys. I saw them because I was seated beside the window in the last row of the danfo while Ibrahim and Yusuf occupied the second row backing me. Yusuf stretched his neck outside to take a good look at the cars. “You will have to work for those if you want them,” I said and he pretended like I wasn’t talking to him. We arrived at the address 15 minutes later; all the houses on the street were elegant with neat environment. “Are you sure we have the right address” Yusuf asked. I knew it was the same address that father sent to me but I rechecked anyway. “I’ve always believe things would change for better eventually” Ibrahim said smiling with self satisfaction. “Let’s knock first and see if we are in the right place before we start to fantasize,” Yusuf said. I knocked the gate of the house, a man peeped through a hole in the gate. “Who you dey look for?” he asked. “Mr Surulere gave us this address” I replied. “Ehen! You be him children?”. “Yes” I replied. He opened the pedestrian gate for us to enter. “Stay there make I give you key” he went inside, brought a lone key and handed it to me. “Na him apartment dey for left” he looked at me appraisingly. “haha shepe Oga Suru get beautiful daughter like this,” he said smiling. The house was painted lemon green, four bedrooms flat on each wing with a terrace lined with flower vases. It was a total upgrade to our old two rooms, rusted roof shabby looking house. I opened the door and we filed in. Yusuf despite himself couldn’t hide his admiration while Ibrahim was grinning from ear to ear. I realized why father didn’t remove single furniture from our old house; none of it would’ve fit this elegant setting.

The interior was painted cream. The living room had five leather couches arranged in C-shape; at the centre was a shinning glass table adjacent to the big plasma TV on the wall. A door was at the far right leading to one of the rooms; while on the other side with slightly raised ground level was the dining area. If you are sited at the dining table, the doorway by the left lead to the kitchen and the one at your right would take you to the remaining three rooms. While I was busy exploring the apartment, Yusuf sat on the couch still amazed. Ibrahim called that he found a note under the flower vase that father left us. “Asalamualeikum you will find some things to eat in the fridge and if you want to cook there is stew in the freezer. Check the store, it’s on your way to the kitchen and make any food you prefer” from the handwriting I presume he wrote the note in a hurry. “Who is hungry?” I asked. “You know I don’t joke with my stomach” Ibrahim said smiling.

Father returned in the evening wearing a net cap, blue T-shirt with black trouser, both were expertly ironed to taste and he looked younger in them. He met us in the sitting room watching TV. “Asalamualeikum!” he greeted when he entered. “Wahaleikumsalam waramotullah wabarakatu!” we replied”. kaifa antum? Father asked. “Alhamdulillah” Ibrahim and Yusuf said and I followed their lead. Kaifa durusukum? They said Alhamdulillah and I said the same thing. “Father I don’t speak Arabic” I told him. He smiled. “I have two Alfas under my roof, Arabic must be flowing in my house now, perhaps you should also learn. Kaifa antum is how are you and kaifa durussukum is how is your study.” He sat down with Ibrahim on the three sitter couch. I went to get a cup of water for him and asked if he needed his food. “I want to relax for now I will eat later” he said. “How was work today?” Ibrahim asked. “Alhamdulillah!” he replied. “How long is your holiday” father asked Yusuf. “Two weeks” he replied.” “And you” he said facing me. “I have a month and a week left. “Alright” he said reclining in his chair. “Father I don’t mean to be rude. But I can’t stop thinking about how you could afford a house of this magnitude in this environment” Yusuf said inquisitively. “The house belonged to my boss. He subsidized the rent for his staff. You can all have a room to yourself now, no more putting your nose in each other’s armpit” father said smiling. Yusuf had a look on his face, and I knew he was going to ruin the happy mood if I allowed him to speak again. “Come to the dinning let me serve you, you must be hungry now” I told father and he followed me. When father was done with his food, he bid us goodnight telling us to off the light before going to our bedroom. Yusuf stared daggers at me and I looked away. He could raise his concern another time but not tonight, the atmosphere was too good to be poisoned.

Father left home early the next day and came back late. He was tired when he returned and quickly went to his room. Yusuf was unable to talk to him until Saturday night when he returned earlier. Father finished eating and joined us in the living room. We were watching a Muslim program on the cable.”Father what can the Ummah do to correct the wrong notion of fixing salat to a particular time?” Ibrahim asked. “It’s bad enough that we don’t follow the appropriate postures, not monitoring the time according to the changes in weather is worst” he concluded. Father was admiring him with pride written all over his face. “We will keep educating and reminding our people on the importance of observing salat at the right time” Father replied. “It is not like they don’t know father, some of the Imams knew salat is observed based on the weather but they choose to follow their sheer will.” Ibrahim said with frustration obvious in his voice. Father thought about what he said for a while. “Then we will pray to Allah for their guidance. Yusuf, do you have something to add?” Father asked. “I have something else in mind that I wanted to discuss with you” Yusuf said. “Okay, what is it?” father said expectantly. I knew what was going to happen the moment Yusuf opened his mouth. I fixed my eyes on the TV but I wasn’t watching it, in fact I didn’t see anything on its wide screen except the colours. “I don’t want to go back to Madrasat” Yusuf said. I automatically glanced at him before turning back to the TV. “What happen?” father asked agitatedly. “It’s not a place for me I’m just wasting my time there. I don’t want to learn Arabic; I don’t want to be an Alfa, I have a plan for myself now”. I couldn’t help looking at father at this point, his eyebrow had fallen and his eyes were barely visible beneath them. I wished I could make Yusuf shut his mouth somehow. “Listen and listen well” father shouted his voice quivering with anger. “If you are my true son you will go back, but if you are a bastard do whatever you like. Do you think the reason I sent you there is to be an Alfa who praise people to gather petty money? I sent you there to gain the knowledge you needed to live a real life, to be able to differentiate truth from falsehood, halal from haram, to know your creator and how to serve Him. You will go back!” father said authoritatively standing on his feet. “I wouldn’t” Yusuf retorted standing up to face him. “Then you are not my son, you are a bastard” father said angrily. “Fine! I will tell mother to take me to my father” Yusuf said and dashed inside the room. I didn’t know I was crying until I saw tears dropping on my folded arms. Yusuf came back to the living room with his bag and headed for the exit door. “Where are you going” I asked. “It’s none of your business” he replied angrily. “It’s almost 10 o, clock” I said. “Then pray I don’t get home safely” he retorted. “Father please stop him, Ibrahim help me” I cried out. Ibrahim looked helplessly at me and I realized there was nothing he could do. I turned to father, knelt down and hug his leg. “Please stop him, don’t let him go” I begged. “We don’t tell a child not to contract leprosy if he is convenient with living in the forest. Leave him let him go” father said determinedly. I went after Yusuf and heard the gateman asking him where he was going. “Are you paid to ask questions or to do your job? If you don’t open this gate now I will find alternative way to get out of here” Yusuf argued with him. “Please don’t open the gate for him” I begged the man. Suddenly I heard father’s voice behind my back. “Open the gate for him Seye”. Seye looked at father like he didn’t hear him the first time and he repeated his command, “Open the gate!” “Yusuf please don’t go out tonight, it’s dangerous you can leave tomorrow.” I begged him but he didn’t spare me a glance, or look back as he went out of the gate into the street where darkness awaited.