Friday, January 27, 2006

How can a man be so cold?

He walked towards her with a menacing look in his eyes. Nafisa braced for the worst. She got into the fetal position just as he started pounding on her back. He was merciless, calling her names and blaming her for everything. “Please, stop I am sorry, I am sorry. I won’t do it again. Please, I love you baby,” Nafisa begged as she prayed that this time he will relent. After about 20 mins he stepped back from her like an artist stepping back from his masterpiece. Nafisa didn’t move in fear that it would provoke him. She cowered and tried to keep her sniffles as silent as she could. There were no tears present in her eyes; she had finished shedding them a few years back. His eyes raked over her body as he spit on her and walked out.


Nafisa waited a few minutes after she heard him close the door to their room before she moved. She crawled on all her fours towards the adjacent bathroom in her daughter’s room. Closing the door silently behind her she pulled herself up. Her eyes were swollen to the size of kiwis, her lips were bleeding and not to mention the bruises evident under her tanktop. She stared back at the woman in the mirror. Her eyes were dead; fitting for a punching bag she thought. She proceeded to wash her face and cleaning herself. She had to go pick up Salma from her friend and she didn’t want to hear another lecture about leaving Awil. He was the only man who loved her. If she left, where would she go? No man out there would want to be saddled with another man’s child not to mention Awil would never let her leave. He would rather kill her than see her leave. It was fear and stability that chained her to her situation.

Driving up to Kadra’s house she double-checked her face in the rear-view mirror. She looked passable except for the swollen eyes which she can explain were due to no sleep and crying. She was sure she could cruise through the questioning by claiming a death in the family. As Nafisa walked up to the door she heard shrieks of laughter coming from the living room. The curtains were partly drawn so she could see the scenario being played out in the house. Salma was being chased around by Abdirahman, Kadra’s husband, as Kadra kept coxing both of them to stop horsing around and come get dinner. Abdirahman kept making cute scary sounds that sent Salma into shrieks of laughter. Kadra didn’t have any children. She and Abdirahman had been married for four years which was as long as Nafisa and Awil, but they were unable to have any children. Nafisa stood by the window looking in at the image of a perfect family and she felt a knot in her throat. Looking away she walked to the front of the door and sat down on the steps. What was she doing? Salma deserved a family that was loving and caring not constantly seeing her being beaten up by Awil. Nafisa sat there at the doorstep for a good half hour as she listened to the laughter and conversation going on in the house. As she got up she knew what to do……………………

4 comments:

Lone Dreamer said...

You really should finish your stories...you cruelly end them right when it gets intense/interesting. *mad*

Great though. Keep it up. :)

SleepDepraved said...

Lone I could finish them but I have a feeling everyone has an ending in mind when they read the stories. It is meant to make you question your ending and wonder what mine would be. What did you think Nafisa did?

Anonymous said...

adda dakka kafiAan :)
Whammy

Anonymous said...

Unfortunately, what you dipected in your story is a cruel realy that is not much different then what many somali women have to deal with on daily bases.

I hope you'll continue writing about this very important subject.

Good work sist.

Mukhtar "Bill" Ainashe
Washington, DC.

www.ainashe.net