55: Grieving

It had just been a day and the palace was already in deep chaos. He hated to go out, but he knew he had to because of the people that came to extend their condolences to them. If it was for him, he would be on bed cuddled with Fareeda until he felt this pain slowly lifting off of him. She had been his strength now that he could hardly ever lift a finger. Muhaseen could only stare at him whenever he came into the room, he would just pinch her cheeks because he couldn’t even call her name out loud.

He wanted to go and see Kulthum, ask her how she was doing even though he knew being fine would be the last thing she could ever be. But right now, he had to be somewhere, Baffah had urgently called him and he knew he had to go knowing so well it was something crucial. He picked up his phone on his way to his chamber and called Fareeda. “Hello, Fareeda?” His voice was so weak and low that Fareeda had to increase the volume of her phone to hear what he was saying.

“Mujaheed, do you need something? Are you fine? Where are you now?” The way her voice sounded so concerned about him made something melted in him and he smiled even though it was the most painful smile his lips had ever carved in more than 24 hours now.

“I'm alright, I'm going to see Baffah now. How is Kulthum?” He asked, his heart weighing down his chest and he wanted to cry all over again, but he knew he had to stay strong even though all he did was break apart with each step he took.

Fareeda turned beside her and shook her head sadly, “She's still not talking to anyone, Mujaheed. She has refused to eat as well; I don’t know what else to do. Can you please come over when you’re done? Maybe knowing you two share the same grief can make her eat something.” Her voice broke, she hated seeing the people she cared about in pain. For the rest of her life, Fareeda didn’t want to see these two people crying like the way they did yesterday.

“Can you give her the phone?” He asked, and a sigh shattered his lungs all over. The air he breathed in felt like poison to him, it felt illegal and suffocated him always. He didn’t know what else he was going to do.

“She won’t take the phone from me, Mujaheed. She can’t even speak; I think the best is for you to come and check up on her when you’re done.” She cleared her tears and prayed silently that the Almighty healed these two people, they deserved all the happiness, the love and peace of mind they could get from being healed.

He sighed and pinched the bridge between his brows, “Okay, I'll come over there when I'm done.”

“What about you, Mujaheed? How are you coping? Are you alright?” She could feel the way he breathed with so much effort and it felt like with each breath he took, it was only the will of Allah that made him take the next. He seemed to have fully given up on everything he had.

“I don’t know how I'm doing. I just want to sleep forever, because that’s the only thing I could do without feeling this excruciating pain in my chest, Fareeda.” His voice broke, and he felt the tightening in his chest that would forever remain unmatched. He felt tears already brewing in his eyes, but he quickly flicked them back, knowing he had to be strong. “Whatever I'm feeling doesn’t matter, I have to be strong, Fareeda. If not for myself, then for Kulthum, she needs me the most now.”

Fareeda immediately shook her head as though he was standing in front of her. “No one needs you more than you need yourself, Mujaheed. Don’t force yourself to not feel anything, you have to feel this pain, it’s something that is inevitable. Please don’t force your heart to ignore the pain you should feel in order to be able to live on with your life. Kulthum needs you, surely, but you need yourself also.”

“I need you, Fareeda. It’s so tough, I don’t think I can be able to do it.” His shoulders slumped, and he finally gave way for the tears to roll down on his cheeks.

Fareeda sighed and wished she was standing beside him; she would’ve given him the best hug ever in his life. “I'll always be here whenever you need me, Mujaheed. You can do this, you’re stronger than you could ever think. Allah does not burden a soul beyond which it can bear, have faith in him.” She spoke with him in such a soothing and lovely tone that had him feeling as though a balm being applied on his heart. He walked to Baffah’s chamber feeling strong, even though he knew it would be a single wave of memory for him to crumble down fully.

He met Baffah in his living room, alone, meaning he had been waiting for him and the conversation he wanted them to have would be crucial and needed some privacy. He found a seat and sat down after he had greeted Baffah. “You called for me, Baffah.” He pointed out, because with each move of the clock, Mujaheed felt as if the walls of the world were ensnaring him in a corner and he only had. A few time left for him to run away for his life.

“Yes, Mujaheed. I just came back from the directorates meeting; we had a meeting about who should be the successor of the throne. Everyone knows it is you and we all approve of this apart from your six uncles. As you know, Sadam can never have this throne because of what he did, he couldn't be given the throne.”

“I've always been wanting to ask you about this, Baffah. Why couldn’t he be given the throne? I don’t think I can be able to hold such prestigious title now that I'm nothing but a mess of broken pieces of my heart.” He said lightly. He knew it had always been Daada’s dream for him to be his successor, that was the reason he crowned him as the crown prince since when he was ten, but at the situation he was, he didn’t think he could do it. It pained him so much that it was barely 48hrs since Daada died, but they were already talking about who should be the new king.

“During his times with their father, he impregnated a servant that worked in his chamber, and as you know, it’s an abominable sin and for the sinner to be a prince is outrageous. Out of anger, their father had it written in the book of rules that he wouldn’t be given the throne after his demise, and that’s what had happened. Your father isn’t the only prince after he died, but he was the only competent one, hence the hatred.”

“So now, If not him...” Baffah immediately shook his head.

“You’re the successor of this throne, Mujaheed. I know His Highness must’ve told you not to trust anyone, you shouldn’t. All your Uncles want nothing but your death alongside Kulthum’s. They feel threatened by the two of your being alive, you should live to prove them wrong. Be a man, you’re a prince and you should take over the throne of your late father.” He felt there was more to Baffah’s words, there were things he knew but wouldn't tell him and Mujaheed knew for now, he just had to do as Baffah said.

He sighed and palmed his face, he knew it was his responsibility, he should do that. “I will do that, Baffah, I will take over the throne.” He felt as the responsibility already weighed his shoulders down as though he was going to be throned right now.

“There’s a problem, your uncles said you won’t be given the throne unless you accept your marriage with Mairamou. Saying that you can’t be a king and have a wife that’s Nigerian and doesn’t even understand Fulani. I know they did this because they know you’d oppose and that will give one of them the chance to get the throne, that’s the one who Sadam chooses. He might not be the sworn king, but he will be the one ruling the kingdom. I want you to accept the marriage.” Baffah closed his eyes because he knew Mujaheed will surely oppose to this, but then this is the safest thing they could do.

“Why would they do that, Baffah? What does my wife have to do with this?” His eyes bulged out and he felt a thudding headache trying to break his skull. Already, there were thoughts that were threatening to bring him onto his knees, and he couldn’t even begin to comprehend what Baffah was trying to make him do.

“I know what you’re feeling right now, but you have to be a man for once in your life. You can’t be a coward and run away like you did last time, will you? You have to take responsibilities, act like the prince you are, a king even. Think about your people, the reputation of our kingdom, the legacy your father left behind.” He didn’t want what Baffah was saying to get through him, as much as he wanted to succeed Daada’s throne, push his enemies the ground, he didn't think he will do this to Fareeda.

“But Baffah, I don’t think I can compromise this for just the throne.”

“I understand, I know it will be hard that’s why I told you this before they summon you in the palace. They will have you make a decision right in front of them. I’m not sure of your wife’s personality but one thing is certain, I know she will understand if you try to make her understand. She won’t have you lose what is rightfully yours because of this, okay? She’s a good wife, she’d make a good decision for you.”

He wanted to argue with Baffah that Fareeda will hardly understand him, she might throw a tantrum and cry all night until he told her that he wouldn't accept the marriage anymore. But Fareeda had a way of changing his perception about things. Of making him wonder if she was really the one when she acted some kind of way. “I’ll think about it tonight.”

“May Allah bless you, Mujaheed. I pray Allah gives you the ability to do this right and protect you and your family from all evil.” He silently mused an ‘Ameen’ and stood up to leave. He loved Baffah, he trusted him and respected him, but he thought this would be so hard for him. For Fareeda and his marriage will certainly be at stake.

He walked to Kulthum’s chamber and upon his arrival, all the women in the room left, leaving only Fareeda and Kulthum that had her body curled into a fetus position on the bed. Fareeda stood up to him and he pulled her to his body. He hugged her tightly and rested his head on his shoulder as she closed his eyes, “I want to cry, Fareeda. I don’t want to be here anymore.” His voice broke, and Fareeda circled her hands around his waist and softly patted his back.

“You’ll be fine, Mujaheed. Should I take you away from here? Maybe to a river or a garden? Just a place you’ll bare your soul and heal.” She said softly and Mujaheed squeezed his hold on her.

“There’s a river I know, will you take me there?” She slowly broke their hug and softly smiled at him.

“I will. Let’s take care of Kulthum first.” He nodded his head and sat down on the edge of the bed, lifting Kulthum that was silently crying with her eyes closed. He lifted her and pulled her to his body, Kulthum’s body shook with her cries when she felt herself against his body.

“It’s okay, Kulthum. You’ll be fine, we both will be, okay?” She shook her head because she knew this was the biggest lie of the century. She would never be fine after Daada’s death, she didn't know what life was about anymore, her heart ached, her soul felt as though it was being taken to and fro from her soul.

“I won’t be fine, Hamma Mujaheed. We won’t ever be fine, Daada is not here with us, how will we be fine? I don't want to do anything with my life anymore, I want to sleep and never wake up again, Hamma Mujaheed.” He fondled her head and rocked them slightly. He wanted to cry the way she did, but she knew if he started crying, then what did he want her to do?

He lifted her from his body with a fully carved smile on his lips. “Allah gave him to us, Kulthum, and now that he has finally taken him away from us, all we have to do is cry and that Allah. You shouldn’t say that, okay? If I lost you then what do you think will be of my life? Your husband, your kids, do you want them all to feel what we felt when Yumma left?”

She innocently shook her head with more tears rolling down her cheeks. He cupped her face and failed at his attempt to smile, “Now, just do all you can to be strong, okay? It won’t be easy, but we will be able to do that, Kulthum. We’re strong, aren't we?” His voice finally broke, realizing that deep down he knew he wasn’t as strong as he portrayed himself to be. He wanted to cry even much more than she cried, he wanted to sleep, like Kulthum and never wake up again.

“We’re strong, Hamma Mujaheed, but how could we be strong when our strengths left us? We’re nothing now but hollow empty bodies scarred for life.” He felt as his tears forced themselves down his cheeks and he pulled her back to his body.

“How could you say something so painful, Kulthum?” They stayed there crying into each other’s arms until Fareeda cleared her voice and she they looked up at her at once. She had a forced smile on her lips with a tray of food in her arms.

“I cooked this myself, Nafisa's mother is busy with the palace’s condolences. You two haven’t eaten since yesterday, who should I feed amongst you?” She tried to sound as nonchalant as she could. Because she had realized the more they got remembered of the pain they were in, the more it would be so hard to overcome. Even though not talking about it didn’t mean the ache wasn’t there in their hearts.

“Me!” They said in unison and Fareeda chuckled.

“I'll feed Kulthum. You’re a grown up, Mujaheed, feed yourself.” She sat down between them with the tray in her hands.

“But she’s a grown up too, she even has two children.”

“Stop being a baby, Hamma Mujaheed. Is it because my husband wouldn’t be here until tomorrow? He would’ve been the one to feed me, not your wife.” Even though weakly, Kulthum spoke and that gladdened the two hearts listening to her.

“Okay, I'll feed you both. But Kulthum will be getting the biggest scoops.” And she did feed them both. She was aware of Mujaheed’s eyes that were fixed unshaken on her face even when she turned her attention to feed Kulthum. He wanted to tell them about the throning now, but he knew Fareeda deserved to be given some privacy. Because he knew there would be things she would like to say to him, maybe through a tantrum or take off her glasses not to look at him. But if Kulthum was there, she wouldn't be able to do that.

Like she said, after they set Kulthum to sleep, they left the palace and Mujaheed drove them to the river he told her about. He needed the serenity of the water, the feeling of peace and solace it gave him. Fareeda watched the view and turned to look at him with a smile, “This looks so African. It’s so beautiful, Mujaheed.”

“Not as beautiful as that greenery in Membila gembu. It still remains the most beautiful sight in my eyes.” She held his wrist and guided him to the edge of the river. They dipped their legs into the river, and she held his hand. Smiling beautifully at him, “Spill it out, Mujaheed. I know you have something to say to me.”

“Baffah said I have to accept my marriage with Mairamou, if not the royal directors wouldn't let me succeed the throne. I don't...” He trailed off at the look she was flashing at him, “I’m sorry, Fareeda. I’m willing to let go of the throne if...”

She immediately shook her head and placed her index finger on his lips. “Don't say such a thing, you’ll have to get what is rightfully yours, Mujaheed. I might’ve not known a lot of things about your family members, but I could say it’s a plot to have you not get the throne. And I could imagine them throwing you out of the palace if they get the throne. You’re going to have this throne; you’re going to be the king and they’d have nothing to do about it.”

“Fareeda...” His eyes brewed with tears and Fareeda smiled before she rested her head on his shoulder.

“I admit being hurt about this, but this isn’t about me, Mujaheed. This is your life, what have made you who you are, the life you were born into. You’d have to get it, be who you were born to be.” She looked up into his eyes and smiled, “Promise me you’d never hurt me, Mujaheed.”

“I won’t ever hurt you, Fareeda. Thank you. I love you so much.” He leaned forward merged their lips in a slow yet passionate sync that spoke his grief, his affection for her and his gratitude. He had never thought she could be this understanding, this loving, this amazing. And today, he was so proud to have Fareeda as his wife.