MUSTAKEEMAH’S POV
From the beginning of my life I felt my existence was a big mistake—as if I were created by error. From one problem to another, whenever I try my best to save myself I land in something worse. My life keeps getting worse and death keeps running away from me. What kind of life is this that I can’t have peace of mind? Now I’m a murderer and about to be a mother as well — a mother and a murderer. I’m about to give birth to my child and I killed his father. How on earth will I explain all this to my child? Life is totally unfair to me; what kind of life is this, ya Allah? I keep shouting Your name, but when will You answer my calls? Tears roll from my swollen eyes as I weep bitterly in the room. The so-called chef knocked at my door but I couldn’t respond because I’m in serious pain. The police are everywhere now looking for me. I thought I would finally have my freedom to move, but I can’t go out again. The door is wide open for me to leave, but I can’t. Life is so hard for me, please… all I want is a peaceful death. What is taking the Angel of Death so long? All I want is to die. I didn’t realize when I started expressing my pain in words, which caught the chef’s attention again. He continues to knock at my door but I ignore him. I keep crying like the world is about to end—if the tears will kill me then let me die here…
Lukman: (panting heavily as he barges into the house) Where is she?
Chef S.K: She’s inside and she locked herself in, shouting she wants to die. That’s why I quickly called you, sir.
Lukman: (moves to her door and begins to bang on it) Please don’t do this, Mustakeemah… we need you. Please open the door—please. I need you.
Mustakeemah: (stops crying immediately when she hears his voice) Please go away.
Lukman: Please open the door. I need you… please open the door.
Chef S.K: (whispering) Sir, is she your wife?
Lukman: Shut up, please… Mustakeemah, please open the door.
Mustakeemah: Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me, but I need to die. No one needs me. No one cares if I exist or not.
Lukman: Subhanallah! Whatever you’re about to do right now is a sin. Please don’t kill yourself. I need you, please.
Mustakeemah: (her cries increase while Lukman continues to strike the door with his shoulder together with the chef) Goodbye.
Lukman: (keeps hitting the door) Please don’t go, please—(he yells angrily) I love you, Mustakeemah. Please.
Mustakeemah: (she is about to hang herself but pauses instantly when she hears “I love you” from Lukman) Did he just say—
Lukman: (with a final push the door opens; he runs to her, embraces her) Please don’t do this… we all need you, please.
Mustakeemah: (breaks down in tears)
Lukman: It’s okay… I’m here for you now. Don’t cry.
**********************
The following day
Lukman: (knocks at her door) As-salamu alaykum, Mustakeemah… can I see you for a minute, please?
Mustakeemah: (opens the door) Wa alaykum as-salam wa rahmatullah, sir. (she tries to bend for him but he stops her) Oh I’m sorry — I’m not used to greeting without doing that…
Lukman: It’s okay, you will adjust as time goes on, okay? Uhm, I hope you slept well.
Mustakeemah: Alhamdulillah, sir. Thank you so much for yesterday; I really appreciate your love and care.
Lukman: All praise belongs to Allah. I hope Chef gave you something to eat? You mustn’t starve our baby, oh.
Mustakeemah: (surprised) Did he just say “our baby”?
Lukman: That reminds me — later today I want to take you out so you can get some fresh air and try to get over whatever is bothering you. Once I finish work I will come pick you up, so please dress modestly, okay? And please make sure you eat well. I’ll get going now… have a nice day, and if you need anything don’t hesitate to call me. Chef S.K will give you your new phone soon; he’s currently working on it.
Mustakeemah: A phone? I have never used a phone in my life! I don’t even know how to operate one… oh… (about to cry)
Lukman: Oh please, must you cry over everything? Don’t you get tired of crying and wiping your face all the time? Anyway, I’m late for work — see you later, bye. (waves at her)
Mustakeemah: (bright smile)
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Later in the evening
Lukman’s POV: It has been such a stressful day, but the atmosphere seems brighter than ever. I couldn’t get Mustakeemah out of my mind—ever since she opened up to me about her past I could hardly concentrate. Honestly, she is a very, very strong woman. I never believed people like that still suffered in this “civilized” world—being used and molested by fellow human beings. It’s just hard for me to focus on anything. As I drive, it’s still hard to get her out of my head. I really adore her and admire the courage she gathered to endure her past. I need to help her and protect her from any form of pain. Enough of every pain and sorrow trying to approach her again. Imagine—she’s carrying that monster’s child, but the baby doesn’t have to suffer the same fate. I promise I will protect her and her child even if it costs me my life.
When I got to my gate, I found my chef standing by the gate trying to buy puff-puff from a hawker. I stuck my head out and said, “Open the gate please — or you know what, don’t worry, I’m going out now; let me get it outside.”
Lukman: Since when did the chef start buying snacks outside?
Chef S.K: (chuckles) It’s not for me o; it belongs to madam… she’s been knocking at my door since morning.
Lukman: For puff-puff?
Chef S.K: Different types of snacks, but I couldn’t satisfy her. Could you believe she sensed the aroma of puff-puff and begged me to get some from the hawker? The hawker isn’t far from here… and behold, I found her here attending to her customers.
Lukman: Funny indeed. Where is she anyway?
Chef S.K: She’s in her room.
Lukman: Okay, thanks. (he heads inside and calls out) I’m home, dear… (waiting for her to come out of her room but there are no signs of her) Mustakeemah dear, I’m home — are you ready?
Mustakeemah: Ready for what, sir?
Lukman: (gasps) Seriously?
Chef S.K: Madam, here is the puff-puff.
Mustakeemah: (happily grabs it from his hand) Thank you, sir. (she opens the nylon and begins to dig in) Would you like some, sir?
Lukman: (smiles) I’m glad to see you happy for the first time. See, Chef S.K, if this puff-puff will make her smile like this again, please make sure you take that woman’s number.
Mustakeemah: (bursts into laughter) Sir, it’s not up to that, na.
Lukman: It is! See how cheerful you are right now. By the way, I love your smile — you look so beautiful when you smile, so please, I want to see that smile all the time to brighten my day…
Mustakeemah: (smiles)
Lukman: Go get ready; let me take you out.
Mustakeemah: No — I don’t want to go outside this house. What if… (panicking)
Lukman: Look, dear, nothing will happen to you. You are safe with me. Can’t you trust me for once? You need to explore the world. Come with me; I will protect you and I won’t let anyone harm you or take you away from me.
Mustakeemah: Are you sure, sir?
Lukman: Yes, I promise. Now go change into something decent; let’s get some fresh air. Hurry up, please.
Mustakeemah: ok sir (she head back inside)
Lukman: (lower his gaze as he shake his head bitterly)
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