The Dreams Of My Mother – Episode 7

Episode 7

The old woman who had saved Khadijat was called Madam Lagos in her vicinity because, her son was in Lagos and was doing well. Everyone knew Madam Lagos as a kind hearted woman of substance. She had lived all her life in Oshogbo, serving in the civil service. Now she was retired and was living her life quietly, given to public service.

Madam Lagos paced up and down the hospital hall way, it had been an hour since Khadijat was brought into the hospital, and no one was telling her anything. Nurses came in and when out, but none of them gave her the information she needed. She consoled herself with the fact that if they were still inside, it meant the girl was still alive. But things escalated faster than she thought.

A doctor rushed out and told Madam Lagos that this was beyond them, the pregnancy was distressed and the girl’s life was in danger. Therefore, they were transferring her to the Lautech teaching hospital, where specialized doctors could take care of her. Khadijat was brought on a stretcher, she was bleeding but Madam Lagos didn’t know from what part of her body she was bleeding from. There was blood everywhere.

At the teaching hospital, she was taken to the Intensive care unit immediately. Madam Lagos called her church pastor and asked that a prayer be raised for the girl who was in an accident.

Madam Lagos: “She is just a little girl and she is pregnant, this feels personal to me. Please pastor, let the church pray for her, that she would live” she said.

She also kept up a vigil, praying throughout the night for a girl she had never met before now. The doctors worked tirelessly, an hour turned into hours, and finally they came out to tell her that the girl was in coma and would be watched.

(IMAM’s residence)

Khadijat’s mother: “How can you be this heartless? Your daughter is nowhere to be found because you wanted to kill her, and all you care about is that I leave your house?” she screamed at the Imam, her husband.

Damilola’s mother: “These rants will solve nothing. We have to look for Khadijat, if possible, put a missing person notice on the television”

Imam: “I have nothing to do with a daughter that has brought me so much shame” he replied vehemently.

Khadijat’s mother: “I can feel it, my daughter is in trouble” she said holding her chest.

With the help of other neighbours and Khadijat’s brothers, posters bearing Khadijat’s face were made and distributed. Khadijat’s mother pushed the poster in the faces of passersby, asking them if they had seen her daughter.

“This girl is your daughter?” one of the passersby asked, as he scrutinized the poster.

Khadijat’s mother: “Yes she is, have you seen her?” she asked anxiously.

Passerby: “Ha it is a pity, she was knocked down by a hit and run driver at Ola Iya junction, she is dead” he said with a pitiful look, shaking his head from side to side.

Khadijat’s mother: “It is not true, my daughter cannot be dead” she cried shaking the man, who said ‘sorry’ over and over again, before extricating himself from the woman’s tight grip.

Damilola’s mother: “What is it, what has happened?” she asked with wide eyes. The way Khadijat’s mother was crying with so much grief, told her that the worst had happened.

Khadijat’s mother: “They said Khadi was in an accident, that she is dead. But it is not true, my Khadi cannot die just like that” she said between sobs, “Khadijat! Khadijat!” she wailed on the top of her voice.

They went to Ola Iya junction to ask around and they were told that a girl who seemed pregnant, had been knocked down by a hit and run driver. Everyone they asked told them that she was dead. It was all a misunderstanding, many had seen her lying there, but somehow the ones they asked did not see the ambulance that came back with Madam Lagos, to carry Khadijat, even the ones that saw the ambulance, assumed that it was her dead body that was being carted away. Khadijat’s mother: “Subhanalai! My only daughter is gone. Why has this happened to me?” she wailed and rolled on the floor. People watched with pity on their faces, while the people who had come with her tried to console and carry her away. Damilola’s mother was beside herself, she blamed everyone for the loss of Khadijat’s life, but much more, she blamed herself.

“If I had been more attentive to my son, perhaps I would have found out about the pregnancy earlier, and it would never have escalated to this point” she muttered as she whisked teardrops away. She remembered Khadijat as a beautiful, young lady, who was religious but not fanatic. She always had a smile for everyone, and associated with everyone including Christians. She didn’t deserve to die, Damilola’s mother thought.

Damilola’s mother: “She didn’t deserve to die. That baby in her deserved a chance!” she cried out, unable to hold the pain inside. Her grandchild was lost forever.

To be continued…