Grief eyed stoneware

I know not what made

this pieced stoneware

with the eyes of grief

But I do know what broke it

Your cold hands. O Mother

your unsmiling eyes. O father

your back, the back you turned on your own

O father.

Present day

She thought she knew fire, that she knew the taste of all its burns. everyday erupted a different chaos. turbulence and rage of infernos, it overflowed and she struggled to stay afloat. Tipped at an edge, she would fall and sink in the abyss, they'll be nothing to catch her and she would shatter.

Her mother's aggravating temper, it rapidly grew in violence to the brink of lunacy. Wares breaking, door slamming. the noise and chaos killed her. the imagery forever emblazoned in her mind. It grew worse with each day that counted, she was the central focus of all of her mother's anger, she vented on her since she was the closest thing that looked like her estranged father.

Ever since been left with the care of two girls with no stable earning source, her mother shifted between nagging the breath out of herself and napping half the day with the help of pills leaving all the chores to Salima.

For everything's sake, she had had to master the parent role, without being mothered herself. she felt and looked older than her years. She was the caretaker running the supposed duties of her almost maniac mother, her absent father and her distant sister and then herself.

Folding the last pile of clothes and bagging them, she had run herself ragged having to work their disorderly room back to a decent dwelling shared by two grown girls. her sister always made a mess of their room.

She heard a knock and head to answer the door. Standing before her, with her perfect face and the smug that never left it, it was her younger sister, Iman. her bag flung lazily over her left shoulder and she had a textbook in one hand. Iman barely stayed home, she went out during day and came in at fall of night, perhaps her own way of escaping the harsh reality of their lives. Iman filled her void with the company of strangers while Salima withdrew and isolated. It was close to ten p.m, the earliest she made it home since using the excuse of reading for her junior exams with friends to stay out late and their mother was blind to it just like she was blind to every of Iman's fault. Iman was too perfect to be wrong and Salima was too imperfect to be right. Her mother had eroded her esteem from a young age, she was less in every way to Iman. Slight jealousy gripped her when it came to comparison to her younger sister, even if she hated to admit, to other women too. she was heavily insecure she would not stop comparing.

"you must have had less books to finish up today"

"yes, indeed. I'm very tired. " Sensing her older sister's sarcasm, Iman answered back slightly brushing past Salima as she walked to their room.

Salima followed locking the door after her. entering the room, she saw Iman's carelessly flung bag and clothes, she was changing into a night dress.

Salima could have slept on it, ignored the thrown bags.she didn't need to add more aches to her throbbing head. she had almost gotten used to the headaches that she hardly used drugs, only sleep. Iman was always throwing every of her possession all over, pens, shoes and Salima cleaned up after it. She's been cleaning up after other people's mess longer than she remembered. Careful not to come across as fastidious. She spoke as she watched Iman clear her plate.

"Iman, don't you think we are too grown for untidy rooms. I'm not asking you to clean our room everyday, just clean up your own mess, when you do it"

" I just came back from reading, I'm exhausted, I'll do it tomorrow" Iman replied without looking to her, already throwing herself in bed.

she had known Iman to be a too-pretty-for-school stress, the reading was a cover up to meet up with her friends to share the trendiest juiciest gossips.

"If tidying up is not so easy, you could not have caused a mess in the first place. this room's been so untidy for the past days and you did nothing about it. Despite we share the room and you make up more than half the mess. you meet it clean as you walk in and then you create another one"

"and I said I'll do it tomorrow, please allow me sleep" Iman was nonchalant, she made it so easy making Salima sound insensitive, she had mastered the art of shifting blames.

"and no one asked you to clean everything, leave my messy dresses, leave my books, leave everything about me alone. If possible divide the room in two and clean only your part.

Stop being a samaritan if you want thank yous, because you'll never get it from me."

As thorough as the ungratefulness Iman exhibited, blatant rudeness and every single opportunity she got to show it off. It was easier putting a cow through needle hole than have Iman admit a wrong. no matter how mild she made it sound, Iman always took offense at being corrected, just like their mother. Living with difficult family was a thorn in the flesh.

sometimes the sore thought of having to have run away like baba plagued her mind and she didn't push it aside she welcomed the thought, once she's passed her senior year papers, and she's admitted into university, she'll be far from them. not severing kinship but distancing from the toxicity of their turvy ties.

"you are right, I should stop nosing around your business but know this,

you're not a toddler to be cleaned up after. the least you can do is to learn to be responsible for your own self,

we all have to grow up."

she was answered by Iman's silence, a passive aggressive way to tell her all she said had fallen on deaf ears and made no sense. another superiority stunt.

Iman thought herself special. too special to end up like other people. It was the way their mother raised her.

life was for people who worked smart, not hard, it was Iman's belief that she had a place with the high society, it was only a matter of time so she never bothered herself with doing much, house chores not even school. Men with big pockets liked women like her; very pretty, slender and fair complexioned. Iman was an alluring image that pleased every gazing eye, her dimpled cheek and perfect girl figure was the subject of many girls envy and the object of men's admiration.

Salima wasn't against pretty people who took pride in their looks, only that it piqued her that Iman saw herself superior among women and made others look small. she knew her features were extraordinary and men were all over her. she also knew that she could puppet whichever of them she pleased.

"hopefully you get the life of dreams where you can afford to pay people to clean up after you but for now do it yourself" answered still with silence, she wished Iman a tacit good night, made supplication and waited on sleep as she rested away the day's trouble, her head throb dimming with slumber.

**

The house was covered in falling mud. the thatches were leaky, it was a filthy place yet filled with women kneeling, her mother one of them before a man.

"pray for us. pray our husbands to stay home with us. let them fill our plates, buy us clothes, house us and our children."

the man was dirty, ragged with long unkempt hair. he looked more like the devil's messenger than a man to pray in God's name. She was there and hated to be, she wanted to leave but could not. she stood rooted watching people, women seek salvation through devious means.

"your husband will have a fortune, keep him, by all means keep him" he walked towards her mother and gave her something wrapped in nylon.

"God will answer you, and you will bear a son too" giving her a half-mouthed smile, her mother thanked profusely.

Salima cried for the whys that made women soiled themselves with disbelief. It was for men's sake. it was terrifying enough that one day she'll not have a life beyond pleasing the male race. God forbids.

The women wept helpless

"help us, help us man of God" they screamed

"in this place,all your wishes are fulfilled, it is a house of miracles. Have no fear" the dirty, ragged man assured.

Salima looked at them all with spite,

It was not a praying house. The man lied, she wondered why the women couldn't see. It was a filthy house, a house they've turned for the purpose of glorifying men, they've given up their conscience just to keep their men. they cried for their men's presence. It was a house of devil's worship.

"nonsense" she spat and the man faces her, screaming at her

"you don't have a life without a man

you are not woman enough without us. your crown lies in pleasuring us. you will die pleasing men and you'll never be enough. You won't escape, you're a woman. You must bow before men. You can't run, you can't hide.

you'll visit this house too"

"I'll never, I'll rather rot in misery than come to people like you" anger rose in Salima, till she could feel it's bitter taste in her throat

"one day, when you're married you'll know why I'm here too"

her mother looked at her, eyes full with pity for Salima that she knew nothing. she was only naive and spoke like a child. she was yet clueless about what a woman's life entails. the length a woman would go to preserve her pride.the pride of a man was his possessions, the pride of a woman was her man.

"Never! if so be it, then I forbid marriage" she made to run but falls face first in mud, she struggled to breath and was sinking.

"see who wants a share in our superiority, you've already fallen"

her ears catching the man's faint laugh as she drowned, in filth.

She jerks awake, slightly numbed in body only her eyes moving. reading by the dim light outside it was hard to tell what hour of the night it was. Dreams were a constant, good, bad but mostly bad- her fears. Salima was used to it, those dreams were slowly becoming her. messages from the subconscious, or a guide? It remained a mystery.

Clicking her phone screen, it was a few minutes past twelve, still early night. Her limbs kicked out of inaction, she staggered out of bed, steadied her stance and walked to the refrigerator to take water. The bottle hung halfway to her mouth as she noticed the door leading to the back ajar. who could be awake? she wondered.

The security lights outside were off and she recalled turning them on before leaving for bed. The door motioned lightly, her heart dropped, so gripped by fear she didn't notice quick that the keys were inside, implying one of them in the house had it opened. Wonders what anyone would be doing outside by midnight.

Her heart raced faster, fearful legs propelling her forward. one step, two and she was outside. the cold night air having her hair stand at alert. her ears caught movement. water falling fast and slapping the ground. Her curiosity pushed her and she was faced with her answers.

Since she was born, never had she seen it and never had she imagined seeing it in such degrading manner at the least expecting time and place,

her mother's unclad silhouette backed her, so engrossed and hastening to finish the bath that she didn't feel Salima's presence.

how many more sins did they need live with

she wanted to hold her tongue, slip back inside and forget she saw anything but her gut churning disgust forced words out her mouth before she knew it

"mama?? what?" words failed her. they failed to convey her utmost shock and disappointment.

"you're not supposed to be out here, go back inside" her mother was rarely polite except she was found guilty of crimes she could not easily brush their evidences under the table.

" neither are you" wondering where the confidence of talking back at her mother came from, Salima doubted if she knew the gravity of what she was doing.

Her mother knew she'd been caught in doing a crude thing, her tongue was tied unable to scold, for the fear of waking any other soul up. she wrapped herself up and passed quickly by Salima.

"are you coming inside or not.

it's late"

"this is major disbelief, mama. this is the gravest sin in the eyes of God, it is Shirk"

" shut up, this is not the time for your sermons, I'm doing this for us" emotional blackmail was her mother's strongest alibi.

" this is not the right thing, wrong can't right wrong"

they already had enough on their hands to ask forgiveness for,

but this, it was unforgivable.

"why would anyone bath outside" her mother turned deaf to her questions. Her greyish face and sunken black eyes showed no remorse.

"I'm not answerable to you, go to sleep" mama justified herself in her right. leaving Salima to the companionless night, the tick of the clock filling the silence. More shock rippled its effect through her as she thought of her dream, her mother's actions hitting her harder.

Tears fell freely, her already shattered heart breaking in smaller pieces.

It was hard for her living with the thought of her father's sins, abandoning kin to have a life with an already pregnant mistress. Adultery was huge, too disgraceful she still felt the shame of it seeping her blood and now disbelief, it was too much.

so much weight of the terrible things they have done bearing on her heart and she took her mat and shed out the burden. Would God's wrath not be upon her yet for her parents mounting sins. How much more sins did they have to pay for.

It made Salima think how living in ignorance could leave man wandering in misery, a life restless and doomed to gloom. Divine truth started with oneself, a true look inside the darkest parts of our mortality, acknowledging our shortcomings and seeking reformation for our own wrongs. Man errs and God forgives,

All humans were bound to fall but her mother thought different. She compounded their problems visiting miracle houses to mend what she broke with her own hands and was still breaking. She refused to know it was her failings that broke her home. that there was no miracle for fallibility but reflection and correction.

She didn't reflect and couldn't correct how empath-less and brazen she had been. She set her own life on fire. Baba was a coward and didn't have clean hands either but her mother was the root of all their pain yet she refused to concede. Everyone else was faulted but herself ;

It was the machinations of her hateful inlaws. The skinny mistress that had cast a spell on her husband for him to have turned his back. It couldn't be that baba found her unworthy, mama lived a delusion. And self-delusion was the biggest deception.

On a few rare days of mother-child talk, weighty words for the ears of children but it didn't deter her mother.

It was one cold night, she remembered the chills she got from the opened windows and from what her mother was telling them. Iman and she, both of them ten and six respectively at the time, her mother told them their father was a poison that killed slowly and she only still tolerated him because of them,that they were the reason holding her back from moving on to a man who deserved her. Salima didn't know who tolerated who among them two but she had been wise enough to not side with her mother. sentiments won't rule her mind, truth and reason did.

Longer than she knew, her mother had been the poison to her being. she had watched her abuse her father in front of them and when she'll lose her temper she'll whip Salima till she bled because she knew it got to their father, somehow. Salima still had the wounds. some faded and others invisible, but they were there.

For longer than she knew, her mother was the lethal poison, she recalled her father's fault too. his subtle vengeance.

He started by keeping them in the dark about his life, his earnings. He used to have a store near their primary school, Salima & Iman would visit after school. it was a thing of pride for her that her father had such a big fancy shop where she could watch tv yet her joy would be cut short as he would be always quick to send them away, and soon changed their school. At the time she didn't understand why but it made sense later how their father wanted them far away from his property. far from his mistress that would come when she wanted and picked whatever she wanted. They knew nothing of his reasons, she was younger then but smelt something fishy.

It deteriorated faster over few more years, he was reluctant to settle the house bills and claimed it was because his business was failing, he then stopped bearing their expenses, totally.

Salima had come back from school to a more shambled house.

Her mother sold her jewelries to keep her head from shame.Their fight got worse. After a heated exchange one morning, baba disappeared on them for a day first, came back, and then vanished for a week a second time.

at the time, they had run out of all necessities. she cried her heart to sleep on an empty stomach and prayed it would be fine. The next day he came home, she believed her prayers were answered. Baba brought food and new clothes with him, they were happy. He took them out, they had ice cream and roast chicken. they played on the swing. the happiness that night had her head up in the clouds, her family was not all that bad. As it was, everything looked like it would be fine. Her dream would forever remain in the shadows. Baba promised a better school, a new house, their own house, he told them he got a big deal that would help his business. Salima was overjoyed.

They went home exhausted, she dreamt of better times that night, her dreams were sweet. eager to wake up the next day only to meet her father's absence. His phone lines out of reach, a day passed stretching into a week and it reached them that it was a deliberate cut off. her father had it planned, he had sold his store and moved out to somewhere they didn't know yet but a place far from them nonetheless. It made her wonder why after delivering promises of a good life he left them hanging and it occurred to her, it was so his absence could be felt more. So they knew all they would never be without him.

It was her mother's punishment for being a bad wife, baba was gone to start the life of his dreams, where he would get the love he could never have had in her mother's hands.

where he would get the perfect family he deserved. He thought he deserved the best, and they were not it.

After living three months in denial, Salima admitted baba was indeed a slow poison when their landlord showed up with a notice to quit his house on grounds of unpaid rent

Her father didn't just leave, he gifted them the debt of a house.

they pleaded and pleaded and when they couldn't meet up the deadline

they got kicked out. The wounds of that day were still fresh and she cursed her father in heart after landing at her maternal grandmother's place. Her uncles had showed up not for their mother's sake but for them, the young nieces, they offered their best efforts. Her mind was in a weak state barely hearing what her lawyer uncle said about lawsuits and court house, repudiatory etc. all the law terms they threw-in lost as she broke for the hundredth time, she was consoled by her uncle's wife. She hadn't had any tangible food and her body had slumped out of exhaustion. Recuperating on her grandmother's bed surrounded by the concerned family, their pitiful gaze having her burst yet again.

if need be she never wanted to meet her father again but she thought of the future, their education, she thought of the house to live, she thought of many things, like the void which will forever remain with them.

Not much of the support they got from family would ease the impending suffering of their life ahead. eventually everyone would tire because they had their own lives and home to run. What stranger will weep at the funeral more than the bereaved, the man meant to look after his own flock had deigned to, why would another man bear the brunt.

Days flew by quickly as her ailing grandmother in spite of her weak frame tried her best to make it home for them and Salima was forever indebted. Her uncle had managed to secure a teacher job for her mother and she refused it. mama thought the job below her, he was vexed at mama's ungratefulness and in anger promised to cut off financial aid.

That day salima wished she was a grown so she could do the job, she would do anything so long it didn't cross decency.

Their mother took her woe story everywhere, she preferred living off her wealthy relative's sympathy than taking a job she thought low, not even for her children's sake, both she and Iman could not return to school, they were a class behind. Their mother considered remarrying but she wasn't legally divorced yet and it failed.

It went on like that, hopes everyday that a miracle would come, her uncles had tried reaching her father but to no avail. Speculation went round he was possibly outside Nigeria. She gave up, until one afternoon of the tenth month at their grandmother's place. she was fasting and was weak, she made a sincere prayer. A prayer said from her heart with conviction, with faith. she was in dire need of whatever good God assigned her.

and a parcel had arrived.