A Promise From My Heart

Chapter Ten

YUSUF'S POV

Staring at the endless long rows of car ahead of me made me nervous. In the city of Lagos where I stay, traffic had been a constant problem on most of the roads of Lagos. The afternoon was so hot. The black smoke emitting from a truck few cars away from me did not help. Many times, I wiped away the beads of sweat on my forehead with the handkerchief Amatullah had given me in the morning. It was a bad busy afternoon. Yellow buses which were common in the city of Lagos with illiterate and lousy conductors and drivers, ear piercing horns from cars, hawkers moving in between cars hoping to sell for the afternoon, people shouting out of frustration and anger. My throat was as dry as a dessert. Thirsty, I had bought sachet water from one of the hawkers. Few minutes later, the traffic began to move very slowly.

It was late at night before I got back home. There was eerie silent in the house when I entered the living room. I felt as if something was wrong in the house. It was just few minutes to 9:00pm. No one would be in bed. With the feeling that something was not okay, I headed up to my room. From the slightly opened door of my room, I could see my grandmother consoling a crying Amatullah. Amatullah had her head on her laps weeping badly. I became worried and walked into the room. Grandmother was not the only person present in the room. Raihana was also with her.

"Amatullah, please stop crying" she begged her voice weak and shaky.

"Grandma, he is not taking his meal. How can you ask me to be okay?" she cried lifting her head on her laps before placing it back on her laps.

"What is happening here?" I spoke. They all turned to me except Amatullah.

"Yusuf, Alhamdulillah you are here. She has been crying" she said tears brimming in her sunken tired eyes. She got up from the bed for me to seat.

"Amatullah darling, what's wrong?" I asked in a sweet voice. She looked up from her laps and stared at me with her beautiful bold eyes.

"He is refusing to eat?" she sobbed.

"What?" I asked confused.

"Yusuf, he has refused to eat"

"Who?" I still did not get what she was talking about.

"Him" she pointed at a plastic baby beside her.

"I don't understand?" I asked more confused.

"Adeniyi" Grandmother called me. I looked at her worriedly. "She....she thinks that is her baby" she stammered.

The news had hit me like a rock. What? Amatullah thinks that plastic is her baby. She thinks that plastic is her baby. When did that happen? She was perfectly fine before I left for work this morning. For a moment, my whole body system jumbled.

"Amy" I turned towards her. "We should go out for dinner tonight right?" I smiled at her.

"Really?" she beamed with joy.

"Yes, we will go wherever you want. We will go out tonight. How does that feel?" I asked the same way she answered.

"You are the best. Oh my Allah! Oh my Allah! You are the best" she screamed with pure excitement then threw her hands over my neck pulling me into a hug.

I hugged her back and my smile evaporated. What is the meaning of these? Why is she acting like these? What's wrong with her?

I paced the terrace taking graceful steps, a hand in the pocket of my slacks. My heart racing so fast. I felt sweat trickle down my temple and I wipe it away with my hand. With shaking hands, I dialled the doctor's number for the eighth time. It rang but she did not pick. Frustrated, I wanted to throw it on the wall opposite me but I held myself. I can't let my anger get the best of me. Everything was so annoying and frustrating. The condition I had met my wife was devastating. My phone rang and I picked it immediately with a shaking hand.

"Hello Yusuf" Doctor Adebayo's voice boomed over the phone. Dr Adebayo was the doctor Christian referred us to during our last visit to the hospital.

"Hello doctor, I have called to tell you something" I answered, my head spinning.

"What is wrong Yusuf?"

"Today, I came back from work and met my wife in a terrible condition. She was crying and when I asked her why, she said her baby refused to eat. I asked her which baby and she pointed at the plastic baby beside her. Doc, she thinks the plastic baby is her child. She has gotten worse. I had to try to distract her. I don't know what to do? I don't know?" My voice shook tears stinging my eyes. I was shaking, my breathing getting heavier.

"I think you have to bring her to the hospital. It is the only way she can recover. We will have to admit her and watch over her" she said.

"I can't do that. I mean I can't leave her alone in the hospital"

"That's the only thing we can do" I became quiet lost in my world. I can't do that? I can't? She means a lot to me. Small drops of tears streaked down my face one after another.

"Yusuf, are you still there?" Doctor Adebayo's voice sounded faint.

"I will think about it Doctor. Thank you" I said and hung up.

When will these end? When? When will everything be normal?

Noor was another problem on her own. After the abortion, she has being quiet. She does not talk to anybody. She locked herself up in the room and cry. She shut everybody out. I tried talking to her. I have tried to apologise to her but my words fell into deaf ears. Raihan had also shut everybody out since Noor's incident. He just stays in his room all day whenever he comes back from the university. He goes out in the evening to play football. He does not speak to any of us. My chest contracted. This was too much. It is too much for me to handle. I loosened the first three buttons of my shirt as I slumped to the floor. My tears running like a river. I just wanted a miracle to occur. I wanted everything back to normal "Ya Allah" I mumbled under my heavy breathe.

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"Yusuf, how do I look?" Amatullah asked her voice like a song bird.

"You look so beautiful" I answered as I buttoned my shirt.

"You are not looking at me" She whined.

"Okay, I am sorry" I turned away from the mirror and strode towards her.

"You look beautiful and breath-taking" I answered.

She gave me one of her dazzling smiles that can light up a dark night. She was putting on a peach colour gown which was the same colour with my shirt. She had chosen the shirt for me saying she wanted it to match the colour of her dress. Her dress was simple and beautiful. It fitted her up to her waist and flowed out to the floor. Her hijab was tied in a way I can't even describe and her makeup was simple and flawless. I was enchanted by her beauty. I pulled her closer to me and kissed her lips.

"To say you look gorgeous is an understatement" I said after we pulled away my voice deep and husky. She blushed under my gaze and looked away shyly. I smiled. "We are getting late. Let's go" I said. She ran towards the bed and started doing something. "What are you doing?" I asked trying to see what she was doing.

"I want to get my baby ready. We can't leave without him" She answered tucking the plastic baby in her hand. My throat became dry instantly. I tried to swallow but it refused to go down my dried throat.

"Amatullah, ehm...ehm.....you can leave it....I mean him with grandmother. She will look after him" I stammered as I found a suitable excuse for her not to take the plastic baby. Where did she even get that thing?

"That's true" She agreed to me.

I waited outside when Amatullah went to give the plastic baby to my grandmother. I was so tensed and thoughts were swirling in my weary mind. I needed to do something fast. She had begun counselling after trying to persuade her with lots of sweet talk. Doctor Adebayo had said she does not talk. She just stares at her as if she was a statue.

"I did not want to be here. If Yusuf had not persuaded, I will not be here" Amatullah would say to her.

She needs to get well before her condition gets out of hand. What will I do? Her doctor had said I should bring her to the hospital where she will stay until she gets well. I can't do that. I can't. Separating from her was just impossible. My heart clenched with pain as tears filled my eyes. This is just getting harder.