Story time!!!

 Today, I'm sharing a story I wrote a while ago to ease your day (hopefully). Unedited but I hope you enjoy it, and if you do enjoy it, let me know if I should share more short stories that I have...😁



The hopeless race to an uncertain end.

My name is Nabila Tanko, and I’m here to tell you a story. I am here to tell the story of my life up until this point. I like to title it, “the hopeless race to an uncertain end”. Don’t ask me why because I don’t know too. I’m very much excited to be at this conference to talk about this pressing societal issue of domestic violence. In addition to what is generally known as domestic violence, I must certainly say that there is a verbal aspect to it and it is most common but most neglected.  Abuses and all sorts of negative confessions people make, constitute verbal domestic violence. So back to my story; I hope to enlighten as well as encourage you to persevere in times that are trying. More so, to labour efficiently so that we can put domestic violence to a complete end…

“My parents were college sweethearts. They built a very strong bond that even bonded both families together. They were so happy together, and they made earnest plans for their future together. Everything was in line until Inna got pregnant with me in her third year in college. Her parents were disappointed but it was more bearable because they knew Ahmed would take responsibility for his action. Inna stopped going to school and moved in with Ahmed, on the approval of both families. Inna was to go back to school after I had been born, and she eagerly anticipated it. Inna and Ahmed got married, and everything looked beautiful at the start. Well, I like to refer to my father as Ahmed, which is his first name, while Inna means mother. My Inna’s names are; Adia Lami Tanko. She was as beautiful as her name.

Ahmed was in his final year so his father had already made recommendations and referred him for jobs so that he could be able to take care of his family and be a man of his own. So practically, Ahmed was taking care of his family all by himself. Unfortunately for Inna, her first pregnancy was not the best it could be, and her demands were high and tasking. Ahmed had to be by her side most of the time and his academics were going down. Also, his reserve of finance before he could get a job was already flashing red light. The presence of Inna’s mother was not enough; Ahmed also had to provide support physically and financially. Inna had series of complications from the third month until she finally had to undergo surgery in her eighth month. The potential first-class candidate eventually graduated from college with a 2nd class lower, as he had to be there for Inna most of the time. He got a job, a well-paying job; and he was hopeful that things would work out well. Inna’s mother had to go back home to take care of her husband who suddenly had a stroke. Inna was the only child of her aged parents so there was no one available to take care of baba. Ahmed’s job was highly demanding and so were Inna’s needs. In the bid to balance both, Ahmed lost his job.

It was already six months after I had been born and my parents were left with the option of taking life as it hit them. Ahmed got a number of minor contracts quite often and he was able to meet the basic needs at most. Life went on and everyone was hoping for better days. Baba passed on a year later, so Inna’s mother moved to the village. All of Ahmed’s sisters were abroad raising their families, Ahmed was the only son and last child of his parents. His mother died when he was seventeen years old. Ahmed was able to open a small kiosk for Inna so that she could keep herself busy and attend to some of her basic needs, as well as support the family financially.

Soon I was two years old, and Ahmed had surprisingly struck a grand milestone in his life. Could things get any better? What could possibly go wrong? I started going to school, and Inna thought it was time for her to go back to school too. Making this request to Ahmed drew the line of her misery in the days to come. Ahmed disagreed; saying that there was no need, she should just focus on her business and find ways to expand it, and she should focus on raising me properly. Inna was not ready to accept this as her fate so she objected. At this point, Ahmed couldn’t contain the rage that he had built up over the years. He became violent. He got physical in his objections against all her opinions. Ahmed hated Inna with his entire soul. He stopped giving Inna money for the house upkeep and Inna’s business was slow. Inna couldn’t finish school as she had planned. Ahmed started keeping late nights. At first, he told Inna that it was work, and then he stopped giving reasons. On the days the Inna would wait up for his return, he would beat her up mercilessly when she questioned his movements. Then the next day I’ll have to stay home because no one will help me prepare for school. Inna decided to stop asking and stop waiting up. On the days he made it to dinner, Ahmed will complain about the food and if Inna tried to defend herself, she was open to terrible beatings. Most times I would cry and run to the aid of my mother but Ahmed wouldn’t consider it. Inna would carry me to my room and lock me in so that Ahmed wouldn’t beat me up too. Ahmed will continue beating Inna and saying so many hurtful words and insults to her. Saying that she and her useless daughter had made his life terrible. He would also say he wasn’t sure if I was his child. He would call Inna names like prostitute and all sorts. He would also yell through the door, calling me names; and I’ll just sit in the room crying and hoping my Inna would not die. I know the last time I mentioned my age was when I was two, and you’re probably wondering how it all adds up. Well, I watched my father beat up my mother for 12 years (after I turned 6, which was when Baba got the new good job) until he eventually killed her. Sadly, my Inna was very patient hoping that her once humane husband will return but he didn’t. Since Ahmed was barely home, Inna could be sane for those times until the monster returned. Every time Ahmed came home, Inna would lock me up in my room, telling me that whatever was going on was between her and her husband and nobody should know about it. I was kind of reserved, but I got into fights at school because according to the school’s counselor, I had no control over my temper. Inna never gave me the chance to deal with Ahmed as I wanted and it built up a deadly rage within me. Ahmed never brought homegirls, but he always came back drunk and wasted. Inna found out that Ahmed had lost his job along the line but he never told her. Ahmed built a very big house in a newly developing area when he hit it big, so we were almost too far away from neighbours to hear all the shouts and arguments. I grew up feeling useless and worthless because Ahmed made sure those words sank deep into my soul, but Inna always told me I was great and I had a very significant value to add to society. I hoped for a better life for my Inna, and I was determined to be great to make my Inna proud and happy. I guess my Inna and her peaceful words were the agents that diluted my rage most times. I started seeing a Counsellor that Inna’s friend suggested, and my hope soon surpassed my fears. Inna was a strong woman but her flesh was weakening faster than her soul, Inna was ill but the monster Ahmed didn’t care.

One faithful day, I was out for one of my counseling sessions when Inna’s sickness hit hard. Word did not get to me fast, so I arrived home late. Before then, Ahmed returned home and met Inna lying down and complaining of pains all over her body. Ahmed didn’t care. He was all about food and Inna couldn’t have prepared any meal that day due to her illness. And besides, Ahmed had not eaten Inna’s food for a very long while now. He always threw the food at her, shouting and insulting her. Inna couldn’t even respond to him because she was in severe pain. The monster pulled out his belt and gave Inna the last beating of her life; he did not even notice that she had died until I got home. I heard him shouting and insulting Inna so I ran to the room only to find my Inna lifeless and the monster was still lashing her. I thought Ahmed was suffering from depression and addiction to alcohol, but all I could see at this point was that he had been possessed by the devil himself. I quickly called Inna’s closest friend, Aunty Zara and told her that there was an emergency. I didn’t tell her that Inna had died, I just told her to get the ambulance. I went into Inna’s kitchen and picked her biggest knife. At this point I was numb; I was as cold as ice. Ahmed had exceeded his limit. I went back to Inna’s room and attacked the monster. I stabbed him anywhere and everywhere; I guess his demon had possessed me. Luckily for him, Inna’s friend came early because apparently, she was coming to visit Inna, so she just called an ambulance. I don’t know how she was able to pull me away from Ahmed and stop me from what I was doing, but she had saved his life. I wasn’t even crying. Ahmed had made me into a monster like him. I wasn’t ready to believe that Inna was gone. What else am I trying to prove in this life if Inna is not here? The ambulance took them both, but Inna was already dead. Aunty Zara answered all the questions and filled the forms, Ahmed had murdered his wife after abusing her for years; seems she had a hint. Inna must have told her at some point. Ahmed recovered after a month and a half and he was sent to prison for life; so I was told.

And that’s how I ended up in this rehabilitation center. I’m a lot better but I’m so scared to leave this place. If I see anybody else I might lose it. I haven’t seen Aunty Zara since I got here, for like 4 months now. Everyone and everything outside this place is a major trigger. I don’t know how life will go on for me. I am not the kind of testimony you would like to reference so please reach out and do what you can to stop domestic violence and bring culprits to book. Thank you for having me at this conference, and I really appreciate the love and support I’ve been receiving it since I got here. I guess you’re all thinking that I’m perfectly fine, but the truth is that your faces are new and so I’m void of any form of emotions right now. I’m not always this composed especially when I’m alone. I’ve destroyed a lot since I got here. Please!! monsters like me wouldn’t become if you all reach out and act. Thank you…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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