Everyone has seen my nakedness! What have I done to deserve this after all I have suffered for my children?
What happened?
I work for a woman, an elderly woman who lives at Ijaiye, so I leave the house every day at 4am; if I donโt leave that early, I could never be able to get to my destination on time. You see, here in Ijora, it is a slum, we live in Amukoko, it is a densely populated area, if you need to be at your place of work, you have to be up early, if you slumber too much, by the time you get up, take your queue at the one bathroom that every one of us in this house usesโฆand there are 63 of us occupants, including childrenโฆthough the young children bathe outside, on top of the clogged up gutter you saw in front of the house; we put a plank there for people to walk over to access the house, it is also the same wood for children to and upon and take a bath, so that their bath water can go straight into that gutter, never mind that the gutter does not flow.
So I would wake up early, put an empty bucket in the row of early risers to indicate my turn at the bathroomโฆmost times, I would have to go and fetch water in front of the house because there really is no place to preserve water in my room.
This room, it is the one I share with my other four children; two boys and two girls; the girls sleep on the bed with me and the boys lay on the mat; once we shut the door, there really is no more room to take anything; you can see that our items clothes, kitchen utensils, all are in this same room, but we push them to the side and lay the mat for my sons to lie.
So as I was saying, I go out early and come back late; it has to be late because of the mad traffic everyday including SundaysโฆIjora is densely populated and the roads are horrible, though the government is making attempts but as you can see, we need help.
So as I was saying, as soon I got down from the okada that dropped me at the junction to our street, I noticed an unusual crowdโฆon a normal day, even at 10.15pm, the streets are still full of people. People who donโt go inside their stuffy rooms until sleep has completely over taken them; people like my children, who know that once I lock my door, and there is no nepa, we would almost be suffocated because my room has just one window and that window faces a fence to the next house.
Why do I lock the door? I have young girls here; 19 years the other is just 15 years; armed robbers break in, you know, they rape girls. So that door must be locked!
So you see, it is a slum area, spaces are scarce, the people are plenty. Again like I said, I didnโt know that anything was wrong but I saw women, girlsโฆusually, you would normally encounter young men this period of day, the elderly women, most responsible girls would be indoors but I saw everyone outโฆI tried to walk at the edge of the thick crowd towards our house then I noticed the crowd was thickest in front of our houseโฆ
A few people had noticed me, some of the women who lived on our street. One of them just shouted my name. Mama Maliki, mama maliki, they have burnt you with fireโฆthey have stripped you nakedโฆ
I am mama Maliki. That is what everyone calls me. Even my children call me mama Maliki, after my first born.
What is it? My mind just collapsedโฆthe crowd looked at me and they began to make way for me.
I knew something bad had happened to me.
In front of our house, on that plank I told you we used to cross into the house, where young children take their bathsโฆthey had laid my son, my second son; Ibroโฆhe is 27 years. They laid him, he was naked from up, his trousers was looseโฆthere was blood flowing into that gutterโฆhis blood.
It was a fight he went to interveneโฆ
He was mistakenly stabbedโฆ
The boy who stabbed him has been arrested by the vigilante groupsโฆ
Mama Maliki, take heartโฆ
Mama Maliki let me hold your handโฆ
Many women were crying my tearsโฆthey were crying the tears for me because I couldnโt cry.
Ibro is the one after Maliki. He was a quiet one; he didnโt do much schooling because he didnโt have the brain for school, so he learned trade; he used to sell pure water with me at the market; he would follow me to cook for women who need my services, wash their clothes, ironโฆthat is what I do.
He and his younger siblings lived with me in our room.
They were all talking at the same time, I didnโt want my son on that plank. I wasnโt hearing them anymoreโฆwhy did they even lay him on this dirty plank? This water logged plank oozing with slime and dirt?
“Please, help me carry himโฆ” I was calling out to the boys hanging around me, they were preventing me from touching himโฆ
โPlease bring him insideโฆbring him insideโฆโ
I was begging themโฆ
They said they had, that the blood was pooling too much in our room, so they brought him out, so as to drain it. I wanted Ibro back in the room; that is where he livedโฆ
They brough him backโฆI was surprised at the amount of blood in a human beingโฆI was now in tears because no mother should see what I saw that night. No mother should have to mop blood off her son, who was stabbed in a fight he didnโt start; who was stabbed, not just once but twice in the stomach because the people he was trying to separate were two friends of his who wouldnโt listen to his voice of reasonโฆ
I donโt know what time it was anymore, I was just there, with the crowd in our room, all consoling me and asking that I spend the night in their roomsโฆI couldnโt. Most of the people asking me to come spend the night in their rooms too, lived with all their families in one room. We all had no kitchen but cooked in front of our rooms, our utensils and clothes and furniture lived with us in that one roomโฆwhere would I stay? They had kids too, who would want to rest, I also had three other children, who have wept their eyes out over the killing of their brotherโฆwe had to stay in our roomโฆwith Ibroโฆuntil…
I was told the boy was later taken to the police station and the police came to look at Ibro as he laid in our room. It was way past midnight and we all kept vigil.
I kept hoping he would just cough and wake upโฆthat he would open his eyes and tell me he was hungry and wanted foodโฆIbro laid there and ignored my tears.
We are Muslims and very active at our local mosque, so the Alfa came, spoke to me; what else would he say? That I should accept it as the will of Allahโฆdo I have a choice? Will not accepting bring Ibro back? Make his cough and get up?
As for the boy who stabbed him? What have I got with him? Will he bring back my Ibro? The police can deal with that, I have no business with him.
They came with burial clothesโฆthey came and took him away from the room and buried himโฆthey said it is a taboo for a mother to know the burial site of her childโฆbut Ibro is still lying on the floorโฆhe had not been buriedโฆhis blood still flows around the roomโฆthey say I cannot leave the room, I must sit in and mourn the loss of my sonโฆthat is the nakedness I am talking aboutโฆthe world has come and seen my nakedness, they have stripped me of my son!
(Series written and edited by Peju Akande and based on true stories)