Veiled Love

She wore the Burqa that day, the long veil women who practised her religion wore with a blind sense of loyalty and obligation wore.

Wearing her garment like a badge of honor.

She walked with her shoulders high, her face cloaked with pride and unwavering strength in the face of adversity and condemnation.

From her head to her toe, she was clad in black, yet her heart was more pure than most...The burqa bespoke art!

Like a bride walking to meet her groom.

No skin showed, her complexion was impossible to tell, even her shape to an extent.

But her gracefulness leaked from the silhouetted frame that escaped when the wind blew a kiss towards her direction as it fingered her garment.

It would have been beautiful if it wasn't measured from the standard of a biased and fanatical world.

Never rushing, she edged on.

Her steps, calculated like a last word.

She was hidden from the world and to her, the world was to be seen behind a veil.

What better way to see a world fortunate to have the sun, yet choose to live happily in the cover of darkness.

Even after her first baby came, it didn't change nought.

Every hour of the day, she was masked in the black veil, a symbol of her faith and belief!

Garnering love and respect from people of same religious and traditional upbringing and upstanding.

Those who have known no other life except what a figure head dished.

And a disgusted perplexity from those alien to her religion and beliefs.

Those who have seen a much freer and easy life, and so were repulsed by one so foreign to them.

And so it was on that fateful day, under the blind scorching sun that burned with a fierce intensity, the windscreens of cars cracked.

She was beautifully adorned and had her baby, shielded under religion, tradition and the sun.

But the market women and bystanders didn't see it that way.

They saw a religious fanatic who would suffer a child under such horrible climate.

So they seethed with hate and waited for an opportunity that may never come.

And as the sun Intensified, their hate deepened.

But alas, fate had a game in mind that day.

And so it was, she saw a fancy necklace she fancied, quickly she dashed into the store,  removed her back from her back and took of her burqa to try the necklace on.

Placing her baby on the ground, the child did what all kids do, wandered away.

Enjoying the breeze and fresh air, the child strolled further away, giggling.

When she noticed minutes later, she panicked and quickly ran into the street looking for her child.

Seeing her child a few kilometres away, crawling into the arms of one of the spiteful women who abhorred any religion or tradition foreign to them.

She quickly snatched her child from the outstretched arms of the market woman.

Aware of the garb and afraid to go back to the hot and dark veil, the child screamed in horror and shock, then turning to behold the face of its possessor, it screamed even more.

''Kidnapper!''
''Ole!''
The market woman screamed at her.

''Kai, who is a kidnapper. You are the kidnapper. This is my child'' The mother said embarrassed at the name calling.

''If the child na your own, why e no sabi you?'' The market woman accused.

''Abi o, see as e dey look am like stranger sef.'' another chimed in.

''Is this a joke?'' She asked fuming with fury.'' Turning to her baby in her arms, she tried to calm him as he was a nervous wreck. He looked at her, familiar with the voice but a stranger to the face, and so he wailed even louder, confused and afraid.

''Na thief o!''

''The baby no sabi am.''

''Baby snatcher!''

Shouts and accusations were thrown and suddenly, hot sweat dropped down her body. she was filled with trepidation.

''I'm his mother, he is just confused and afraid.'' She pleaded now, shocked and confused at the scene unfolding like a Nollywood script.

''Shut up, boko haram!''

''Check if she wear bomb?''

''Or even pant?'' an agbero mocked.

Suddenly the baby was snatched from her arms still wailing and a slap landed on her face.

In minutes she was on the ground and a tyre placed on her neck

''Burn am with her gown!''

''Wicked woman''

''Kidnapper''

''Fulani herdsninja!''

And as the youths rallied round and got fuel and matches from a vendor close by, fate played another hand.

''Stop, stop, Wait o, na the mama''

A lone woman rushed and screamed so loud, the crowd listened.

''Na the mama, no kill am abeg'' she was talking in a rush as she tried to catch her breath and composure.

''Na her second'' Some said.

''Her partner in crime don come'' another added.

''No, na Mama Iyabo be this, her store dey junction.'' One of the women defended her.

''I sabi this woman, she dey sell beads and fabrics for front.''

''See, her hijab, she leave am for my shop when she run to find her baby'' the woman pleaded and immediately moved closer and knelt beside the mother, handing her the burqa, the mother took it and wrapped herself while still chanting and praying in Arabic.

Immediately she covered herself, the child screamed in delight, struggling to go back to its mother

It recognized her then, properly covered than exposed.

That was the end of her veiled existence, for that day her child gave her a new meaning to life!


Veiled Love


Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne
Authorpreneur
www.ofunneceo.blogspot.com