Her Father’s Daughter
She was trying to take in the renovated environment – the blue wall had been repainted to white, making a perfect background for the framed pictures of some political figures and their names. She wondered when her father would stop hanging pictures. Did he not know that the angels don’t enter the houses having pictures?
A lot had changed since her last visit including the secretary. She had been waiting for her father in his office. The new secretary didn’t recognize her and she wasn’t ready to describe herself. She had asked if she had an appointment with him so that she could check his schedule but since she had none, she was told he wasn’t on a seat else she could wait for him. She sat on the sofa, waiting for hours, dialling her father’s number endlessly as he wasn’t picking up her calls. She was about to lose her patient when the secretary’s phone rang. As she conversed, she could hear her describing her as a young dark lady in a long hijab. Then, she heard her apologize and dropped the call. She turned to her frowning,
“Are you Honourable’s daughter?”
Maymunah nodded, not needing to talk.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I shouldn’t have kept you waiting.” She released her expression and faked a smile. “I’m very sorry, I was only doing my job. Whenever he tells me he wants no visitor but to rest, I don’t allow visitors into his office else they are on the important list of his schedule. And I guessed as because you resemble him. I just had to dismiss my guess because I never heard he has a daughter, not to talk of a daughter that uses a hijab… I hope you can understand. I’m very sorry once again.”
She nodded again and gave her an assuring smile as she made her way into her father’s office, leaving her wondering if she was dumb. She knew she was only trying to save her job. She had thought she might report her unfriendly demeanour towards her but she had no intention of doing that. Had she gone to visit him in his home, she would get more unfriendliness than that.
She sat on a couch before him, confidently. The man removed his eyeglasses and dropped the newspaper he was holding on the small table sitting between them. He raised his reclining sofa where he was resting and sat up.
“Any problem?”
She shook her head.
“I think your aunt thought you better not communicate with elders using body language.”
“No problem. Aunt just made me come here.” Her face grimaced.
“So, if your aunt hadn’t compelled you to come. You still wouldn’t want to see your father. Is that what Islam teaches you?”
“But you also failed to see me for good two years dad!” A river of tears built up in her eyes.
He sighed, “so, that’s what all this is all about?”
She raised her eyes and the tears streamed down her face. Her father, honourable Adisa threw her a handkerchief he brought out from his pocket. She wiped her face with it.
“Anyway, it was supposed to be one year, you made it two. I supposed you should understand that that wasn’t intentional. I’ve been trying to build my political profile and that year was an opportunity for me. As a minister for power and electricity and a close friend to the President and the Senate President, I was always so busy with my job of serving the country and helping those my friends as well. Everyone understands, even my wife. Why don’t you want to?”
Oblivion to her father, his last statement triggered her painful memory of the one-year moments she spent with his family immediately after graduating from secondary school; He had insisted on driving her home, from the boarding school where she graduated, instead of her aunt’s house in Lagos where had been her home ever since she was a baby. She had woken up the second day to see him gone for one good year before her aunt came to her rescue again. All her father intended to do was to establish a bond between her, as his only daughter, and his sons. He had hoped his wife would have forgotten the past and treated her well just as she promised but she didn’t. She made her work with the house girl in the house like a slave while her two sons in the house were pampered. She worked like a clock and had almost no time to rest or study, which took a toll on her JAMB examination result. Her score didn’t meet the cut-off mark to get admitted into the university of her choice, not to talk to getting her the course she had always wanted. The failure got her aunt wondering and her suspicion was finally confirmed when she paid a surprise visit to the house. She had met her in the laundry room washing the clothes of everyone in the house. The woman had argued she was just trying to train her to be independent and wifey. They spat into each other’s eyes and it got Maymunah sad and crying because that was just all she had been trying to avoid which had made her keep quiet and endured all the while. She had always wanted to be rescued but not at the expense of the peace between her families. On that day, she had happily followed her aunt back to where she had known to be home and back to her friend, Mutmainah. When she was told about how her mother attended a polytechnic, she also made up her mind to follow in her footsteps.
She sobbed and the man wondered why. The secretary knocked and came in with a white tray containing two chilled bottles of water and ceramic cups. Maymunah wiped her face. She served the water to the father and daughter who had become silent. Then, she left.
“Is there anything you aren’t telling me?” He asked after sipping some water.
“Nothing, I just wish my mother was alive or I could just have a memory of her.” She said, amidst sniffing.
He nodded, “I wish she was also but she wouldn’t have raised you better…” He raised his eyebrows, “hope you have no problem with your aunt?”
“No, I don’t.”
He stared at her deeply, “compare to the last time I saw you daughter, you’ve changed. You’re now looking more like your mother.”
The sorrow on her face was replaced with a smile. She inclined forward and picked up her portion of water. The atmosphere drastically changed to what it used to be whenever they both had enough time to communicate.
“How did she look like?”
“I’m a politician, not an artist. I don’t know how to describe people. But she looked like the replicate of yourself in a mirror.”
She smiled again, having an opportunity to enquire about what she had always wanted to know, “how did you even meet my mother, dad? Aunt told me she was very young, beautiful, courageous, confident and pious. If she was all those, how did she end up with you?”
Even though she had heard part of the story from her aunt, she wanted to hear it all from the horse’s mouth to have a better insight.
He took another sip of water, “so you think I wasn’t worthy of having her?”
“I’m not saying that dad. I just wanted to understand her thoughts.”:
“You forgot to add intelligence. Hajar was very brilliant. I met her working as an IT student in my wire industry. That industry and a house were the only inheritance I got from your grandfather. My inheritance was supposed to be more than those according to his will but after his death, despite the three women known as his wives, four unknown women came with their children and claimed to be his. DNA tests confirmed their legibility and the properties were redistributed. That’s a story for another day daughter, don’t let me digress. So, being the only source of wealth I had, I was frequent in the company. The first time I noticed your mother, I was in my office standing by the window, overseeing all going on at the company. Then, I saw a girl wearing an overall on a black khimar going back and forth with a tool box hanging on her left shoulder. I even thought she might be a daughter to one of those engineers. So I visited the factory and saw her instructing one of the engineering apprentices, standing high on a forklift and trying to repair a faulty crane, on what to do. As I entered, everyone idling to watch what was going on panicked and returned to their work but she was so busy to notice my presence. I stood by on one side, trying not to distract her and watched. I fell in love with her immediately!”
She smiled and the man grinned too. “After the repair, the crane was tested and it worked just fine. Everybody applauded and I did too. I can still vividly remember the smile on her face when the men and women working in the factory were hailing her, calling her ‘engineer tó mọ̀wé’ (An intelligent engineer).”
Maymunah giggled and murmured, “engineer tó mọ̀wé”
He continued, “I wondered how she could do it. She later noticed me, our eyes got locked. She greeted me and shied away immediately. I sent for her and asked why she was doing the job instead of her boss who I employed and did pay salary. She started begging me on his behalf; he was out quickly to pay his son’s school fees. Then I went further to know more about her. I learned she got the skills from her father. Your maternal grandfather was a shrewd electrical and electronics technician. When he was very young, he worked with an engineer who was a white man in a company for years. He later left the company and started practising in a small shop. Among the two daughters he had, your mother was very fond of him and he loved her as well so she followed him about. To his workshop, to contract works in companies and factories, almost everywhere she followed him. To cut the long story short, we got closer when her father was deceased and she needed my help to pay her school fees for the second year at the polytechnic. I had gone the extra mile to pay for her older sister’s school fees and final year project as well. I provided for her every need in the school and she was very grateful. Somehow, she found her way into my heart and I asked her to marry me, to become my second wife…”
“I’m sure she wouldn’t agree right away.” She interrupted.
“I was 22 years older than her and married, of course, she didn’t accept right away. Also, I wasn’t religious. She told me I wasn’t the kind of man she dreamt of as a husband. She had dreamt of a highly religious man who can recite almost all the chapters in the Qur’an offhand, who knew most of the hadiths and could guide her and her children to attain Jannah.” He nodded, “yes, your mother was that religious but that’s also a story for another day. I only promised her I could try and improve in my obligatory practice. I promised to allow her to raise her children spiritually as she wanted and provide her with every support she needed. I promised her heaven and earth but she declined my offer still. I started keeping my beard and my trousers above the ankle to appear more like a serious Muslim. I started praying five times a day in the congregation. I struggled. I changed drastically and started feeling tranquillity but all these hurt my home. Mama Ibrahim started getting angry with my new look and dedication. She feared I was becoming an extremist and threatened me all day with divorce. Still, your mother turned me down but I was very desperate to have her so I kept my head up. Just one day after months of persuasion, she came to me and hesitantly accepted to marry me. Though I wondered what had changed her mind, which she failed to disclose to me, my joy knew no bound. We got married and I dared not take her to my boiling home. I rented an apartment for her with your aunt and employed Mutmainah’s father to be at their beck and call. My love for Hajar increased when we found out just two weeks after consummating our marriage that she was pregnant with you. You should know the rest of the story.” A tear dropped from his eyes and he wiped it off.
She knew the rest of the story – her mother died from a postpartum haemorrhage after giving birth to her.
She sighed and adjusted in her seat.
Honourable Adisa gulped down a cup of water and strolled to the window, stared out of the window for a moment and returned to his seat before his daughter. There were so many scenes in the story he couldn’t relate to – the threatening scenes of Mama Ibrahim to her mother. There was even a tragic event that almost claim her fragile life. He didn’t want her to harbour a strand of hatred for her stepmother. He wanted to keep his family close. But each time he tried, he failed. Even at his last trial, though oblivion to what transpired, he knew he failed as well.
After a few minutes, he settled emotionally and decided to check into her life so far.
“Since you’ve refused my generous offer of sending you to study at a private university, how has the independent life in the polytechnic been?”
“Alhamdulillah, we praise The Almighty. It has been challenging but we’ve been coping… Alhamdulillah!”
“Hope no lecturer is giving my girl a hard time?”
“There was one but it was resolved so there’s none.”
He nodded.
Her aunt’s driver would soon arrive to pick her up as scheduled, she decided to work on her last main purpose of the visit.
“Dad, what would you say if I seek your permission to get married now?”
That was unexpected! In the next few years, he hadn’t thought of sending his only daughter off to another man. He frowned and gazed at her for a moment, a lot quickly went on in his mind but he kept his calm and replied,
“Is there a man yet?”
“Not really, I just want to know.”
“Not really? It…”
She interrupted, “I mean no! I’ve accepted no man yet.”
He sighed a relief – at least, not so soon!
Jazakumullahu khairan ma