44 What’s done is done

Nabila Mujahid had been in Kano for two months when she found out she was pregnant.

She knew this because Kaka crossed the days off the calendar beside her bed and underneath today's date she had circled in red pen...month two. Kano was helping Nabila to heal. It tore her apart certainly; but only so she could be put back together again. Gone was the self-pitying, woe is me Nabila; the one who arrived at Mallam Aminu Kano airport bald and bleeding.

The frail woman who ran to her grandmother, exhausted by emotions she could not express. Punished wife, betrayed sister, hurt daughter and deceived friend...this person had departed like the Atlantic winds that ushered rain into the desert. Her spirit was stronger and prouder. Able to recognise her unhealthy love for Jamal for the addiction it was. Nabila had grown to need her husband in a way that was unnatural. Functioning only through him; smiled if he smiled, ate if he ate, and slept only after he did...

The last time Nabila and Kano met she was also pregnant. Awaiting the birth she believed would cement her marriage. Relying on a child to create love she could no longer solely supply. Memories of her last visit were created in happiness but now revisited with sorrow. Memories of Kaka speaking of gratitude and the Balarabe women who earned it, memories from the stables, asking if Rabi would speak to Jamal about his renewed smoking... "You two are really close" she had said- little did she know how close-, memories of Rabi's resultant awkward embrace. That was the worst. Rabi pitied her! Because she knew, knew that Nabila had not a chance in Hell of ever winning Jamal back.

During these times it was hate that kept the heart pumping within this weak body, it was hate that drove the blood underneath her skin, and it was hate that allowed her to function. She hated a lot within that period. Hate for Jamal, hate for Rabi, hate for Amaka, hate for Baba and Oda, hate for everyone that knew and withheld from her. The tears that refused to fall in Abuja found her in Kano. Tears flooded her pillows at night, salted her coffee by day. Interrupting her prayers causing her to sniff and sigh while reciting surahs, dampening her hijab. The tears weakened her, reduced her to nothing, and made her relive their reason for falling again and again. My husband does not love me, he loves Rabi, because she is perfect and I am not, my father protected her, my best friend kept her suspicion from me, I lost my beautiful baby, everything is lost, everything I love.

Till eventually, Nabila owned her suffering. She accepted weeping was not a sign of cowardice but strength. It meant she was dealing with the reality of what had occurred and moving on. So she let them come, excusing herself to find a quiet corner when they fell from reddened eyes. Imagining the tears washed her anew, made her clean again. When it slowed to a trickle she resumed whatever she had previously been engaged in; praying, gardening, sleeping or dining. Most of all she was grateful that Kaka neither interfered nor interrupted these moments.

Kaka patiently observed her granddaughter as she sobbed her way to recovery. When Nabila suddenly excused herself from the dining table only to return with blocked nose and wet eyes Kaka had said nothing. When at night noises of wailing and weeping emerged from her suite Kaka said nothing. When sniffles drifted across the prayer mat in the mosque Kaka simply watched in silence. It was not because she did not care; far from it. She simply knew that to do nothing was exactly what Nabila needed from her right now. "What's done is done" she had said to her one evening as Nabila lay in the bed she had refused to leave for 10days. "The question now is what you are going to do"

"I don't know" she replied. So quiet Kaka barely heard it

Kaka had left the conversation at that. It carried on in that manner for over a month. Suffering did not depart quietly.

One morning Nabila arrived at the breakfast table and smiled good morning. Her eyes were not bloodshot, her lashes were dry. It was all Kaka needed to see. Rising from her chair she embraced her granddaughter. No words were needed, no words would be appropriate.

A week later, Nabila chatted about the heavy rains that had flooded lower Kano over the past few weeks. She seemed to have just noticed that which others, including Kaka, had lived through. Sorrow had shielded her ears from peals of thunder and blinding lightning and fierce winds. Nabila remarked on the destruction to the herb garden at the south of the estate just behind the servants quarters, nearly knocking over her cup of mint tea. Breakfast was served on the East deck and the sun was just rising above morning clouds spilling light pinks on the white tablecloth. The lone veranda was the highest point in the Balarabe estate and the vast city spread out below; a mix of high rise and bungalows. Corrugated iron roofs normally coated with dust had been scrubbed clean by rains. Rainy season had finally come to an end so Kano was crowned in wonderful sunshine. Welcoming light that would evolve to scorching heat as the day progressed. Nabila devoured her scrambled eggs, helping herself to more fried sweet potatoes. Shaking her head and laughing when Kaka requested more mint leaves be added to the teapot.

"Kaka any more mint and I could brush my teeth with this tea"

"You have found your tongue now ko?"Kaka waved her jewelled hand. "Walk with me" she said when Nabila finally finished eating. Kaka looked on in amazement when she insisted on picking up a freshly baked bread roll first. Nabila was really hungry. They walked past fountains and sculptures, their sandals slapping rhythmically on the earth. Nabila chewed and swallowed. Watching as the red dust clung to the bottom hem of Kaka's white gown, dying it pink.

"This is for you" Kaka eventually said, coming to stop

"I don't see anything"

"The land we are standing on. It is for you"

Nabila looked at the earth, the soil slightly soft from months of rain. They were well and truly into planting season.

"Nagode(thank you) Kaka"

"Happy Birthday"

"You forgot" Kaka realised. "It is the day after tomorrow"

"Yes" Nabila agreed

"But I will not be here. I have to go to Abuja." Kaka took a breather, "Rabi is getting married"

Nabila nodded and brushed crumbs off her turquoise blouse. She could feel Kaka watching her closely.

"I will return at the end of the week" her voice was reassuring

"So you gave me a project to keep me busy" Nabila joked

"I wanted you to have it either way"

"Kaka what has happened has happened" Nabila repeated the words said to her all those weeks ago

"What do you wish to do now?"

"Garden" Nabila smiled. She took another bite, wiping crumbs from the corner of her mouth.

Kaka paid close attention to Nabila for the reminder of the day. But she saw no signs to hint her impending absence would cause harm. Yes, Nabila seemed healed but a tiny part of Kaka, an inner voice she had come to trust in her mature years, told her the worst was yet to be revealed. Perhaps it was because Nabila gave no intention of returning to face those she ran away from. How do you know you are healed, truly healed, unless you face that which hurt you? Still what did she know, she was an old woman too protective of her granddaughter.

From the moment Nabila could walk it was apparent she was the more fragile of the Bello daughters. True, Rabi was more forthcoming with emotions but Nabila remained so closed up that Kaka worried in the wrong hands it would be remarkably easy to break her. More worrying Nabila remained unaware of this character flaw, believing to be cold. Till Jamal came along, he made Nabila feel womanly; soft and warm and desirable. Kaka wondered why she did not stop the marriage to that boy from taking place.

When she met him he lacked the complete devotion her son-in-law, Danjuma, possessed. Jamal however knew Nabila. And Kaka being a grandmother found it hard to believe that someone could know her granddaughter, completely know her, and not love her. So she gave her blessing although it quickly became apparent that Jamal was unable to remain interested in anything for a period of time. That was until Rabi. Why did it have to be Rabi? The one person Nabila always compared herself against, never mind they were as different as night and day.

"So you see Kaka, these two would make the better choices for a sunken garden" Nabila pointed to a picture of a blue plant with dark brown spots on its petals. Kaka merely nodded, "I see" she said knowledgably, "very wise choice." Nabila smiled please her Kaka approved.

"Okay now I am wondering about the shade area, the tree has to have minimal shedding" Nabila trailed off mumbling to herself and flipping through pages in the gardening encyclopaedia.

A servant interrupted, apologising via multiple curtsies. She handed Kaka her phone and backed away. It was Farida and Danjuma. Kaka excused herself gathering up her gown as she stood. It was the same question: when is Nabila coming home? Kaka's answer was the same: their daughter needed to heal. In her own time she will return to them but if they tried to force it...

"Yes yes" Farida agreed. Knowing full well she would call tomorrow with the same request. A fact Kaka accepted. She also knew Danjuma was listening in, although he did not speak. He punished himself, believing to have acted wrongly. Kaka agreed with his wife that he had done what was best at the time, placing Nabila's pregnancy above all else.

"We are having lunch now" Kaka informed them. Farida sighed and hung up. It was a rude gesture but understandable in the circumstances. Kaka saw the 19year old girl that ran away from home to marry her doctor boyfriend. Too impatient and impulsive to allow Time play a responsible role.