Adekunle: (he follows her in) What is wrong with you? Is this how you say thank you? Why are you such an ingrate?
Khadijah: Don’t shout at me!
Adekunle: I will shout at you! Yes, I know I found you unhappy, but at least pity my sweat for getting you this.
Khadijah: Do you even care about my happiness?
Adekunle: Do you even care about my struggles for you? For us! For our children! You found me making a call with my friends and nagged about it, without knowing the surprise I had for you. We were planning to get you this car, packed outside, just to put a smile on your face. And this is how you repay me? I didn’t expect this from you, babe… (she walks out on him)
Khadijah: Baby… (she bursts into tears again) He doesn’t even understand me. Did I ask for a car? Or did I do something wrong? (She gets up) Baby, I’m sorry… (she follows him) Baby…
Adekunle: Don’t touch me. Just stay away from me while I return the car since you don’t want it.
Khadijah: I do, baby… I… I’m sorry, but my heart aches right now. I’m sorry for how I responded to you. I really appreciate what you did for me. Please, baby… (she wipes her tears and tries to hug him) Thank you so much… I’m sorry. (with her innocent face)
Adekunle: You are sorry…
Khadijah: Yes, my king.
Adekunle: (he begins to smile) Your king indeed… So, do you like the car?
Khadijah: I don’t like it… I love it… (fake smile)
Adekunle: Now you’re talking. Come here! I want a good treat tonight… hmmmmmmm.
Khadijah: (still fake smile) Hmm… okay…
Adekunle: Now, let’s go in… (he lifts her from the ground)
Khadijah: What are you doing? Must you carry me all the time? Put me down! Don’t fall me, please…
Adekunle: Because you are small and cute. (he carries her to the room)
Khadijah: Wait, wait… You haven’t eaten… And have you prayed?
Adekunle: Oh please, don’t start again with this praying stuff. Don’t spoil the fun… Come here.
Khadijah: Listen, baby, you need to pray. It is compulsory for every Muslim to pray. Like now—I need to get pregnant, we need to pray for it.
Adekunle: Oh my God! (he falls on the bed) First of all, pull my shoes and socks. I’m tired.
Khadijah: Please, dear, try to pray. If you don’t pray, it is not good.
Adekunle: I said pull my shoes—I’m tired! (He yells again) Why are you always a pain in the ass?
Khadijah: (she obeys) I’m just worried about you, and I want us to be together till Jannah… Baby, please.
Adekunle: If you say one more word, I’m going to sleep outside.
Khadijah: (she gasps) Because I asked you to pray to God, not me?
Adekunle: (angrily gets up and tries to leave)
Khadijah: Baby, wait! Wait!! (She stops him) Come on… Do you have to do that? Okay, I’m sorry.
Adekunle: Prayer is by heart, not by pretending. Stop repeating it. Praying all the time doesn’t guarantee you heaven.
Khadijah: (jaw drops) How could you say that?
Adekunle: Did I lie? No. Tell me, did I lie? So don’t stand there telling me to pray when your prayer doesn’t guarantee you heaven. I’m off to take my shower. Prepare yourself for me—you are coming with me to the shower. (He tries to lift her again)
Khadijah: (tries to stop him) I can walk now! Don’t carry me.
Adekunle: Then let’s go take a shower.
Khadijah: You go first, I’ll join you. Let me take off my clothes.
Adekunle: I’ll wait for you then.
Khadijah: Just go!
Adekunle: Stubborn head.
(Curtain)
The next morning, around 5:56 am
Khadijah folds her prayer mat and places it where it should be. She moves closer to her husband, who sleeps roughly on the bed, and kisses his forehead.
Khadijah: Good morning, my property.
Adekunle: Hmmmm… If this is about the prayer stuff again, just forget it. (adjusts pillow and turns)
Khadijah: Anyway, I just want to greet you. Good morning, my king.
Adekunle: (faces her) Good morning, my queen. How was your night? I hope you enjoyed our moment last night.
Khadijah: Alhamdulilah, and you?
Adekunle: (sighs) You are this, your Arabic… Well… Mine was another beautiful memory we made together last night, and I pray our reward is triplet.
Khadijah: No, dozen ni… (joins him on the bed and rests her head in his arms) You are all mine for now.
Adekunle: (holds her tight) You smell so nice again… (he kisses her) Or should we…
Khadijah: Don’t even say it. (She pushes him, turns to the other side of the bed, and begins to think) He can have energy for sex but for prayer, he will utter rubbish…
Adekunle: Come on, baby. (embraces her from behind) I love you so much.
Khadijah: I love you too. (she sighs)
(Curtain)
Two and a half months later
Adekunle’s mother never stopped pressuring Khadijah about having a grandchild. Khadijah continued praying to Allah for pious children. Even her husband began to wonder why she wasn’t pregnant yet. They visited several hospitals and were reassured that everything was physically fine. Adekunle also bought her lots of fruits and encouraged a healthy lifestyle. Yet Khadijah never stopped crying and praying, while her mother-in-law’s disdain increased.
Saturday, in the kitchen
Rasheedah: Sister mi, I always admire your kitchen a lot.
Khadijah: (fake smile)
Rasheedah: So, are you saying up till now there’s no news about your pregnancy?
Khadijah: Yes… (responds sadly)
Rasheedah: Don’t be sad, okay? I’ve put you in my prayers too. That baby is just doing shakara…
Khadijah: Honestly, he or she should hurry up… Their mother is in pain. (bursts into tears)
Rasheedah: Don’t cry, sis. (wipes her tears) Be strong for Allah’s sake. Everything will be fine. Just hang on a little…
Khadijah: My mother-in-law will soon throw my things out of my matrimonial home…
Rasheedah: Do you know depression can prevent pregnancy? Be happy, at least for now… Enjoy your life…
(Adekunle barges in)
Khadijah: I think my husband is back… Let me welcome him.
Rasheedah: Okay, sis… I’ll help with the rest.
Khadijah: Baby, welcome. (tries to embrace him)
Adekunle: Don’t hug me! I’m so hungry—bring my food.
Khadijah: The food is almost ready, just wait…
Adekunle: (angrily hits the remote on the floor, startling her)
Khadijah: Baby, what’s wrong?
Adekunle: You are asking what’s wrong? I told you! Prepare my food before I get back! Where is it? (yells)
Khadijah: (scared) I said the food is on fire—it will be ready soon.
Adekunle: On fire? I went to meet a client for three hours and you’ve been cooking this long?
Khadijah: Baby… I’m sorry.
Adekunle: Don’t you ever say sorry! (yells)
Khadijah: Why are you yelling at me?
Adekunle: Because you’re irresponsible! Ordinary cooking is a problem… You aren’t even smart enough… Better find something to eat in the next two minutes, or else… (heads to his room)
Khadijah: (still in shock) What just happened?
Rasheedah: (approaches) Sister mi, what happened? Why is he yelling at you like this?
Khadijah: (falls on the chair) Please, I can’t think straight… My husband is not like this… Omg! Why is he turning against me again? I hope this is not my mother-in-law’s doing…
Rasheedah: Food is ready. I even packed them in the cooler.
Khadijah: Ehn? Let me set it on the dining… Come help me.
(They set the dining table. Khadijah heads to meet her husband.)
Khadijah: As-salamu alaykum.
Adekunle: (turns his neck to check who it was, faces his phone)
Khadijah: Baby… I’m sorry about earlier… I didn’t mean to upset you… The food is ready.
Adekunle: (angrily gets up and heads to the dining without speaking)
Khadijah: (takes deep breath, follows him)
Adekunle: (takes first spoon and spits it out) What is this? What rubbish did you prepare for me?
Khadijah: Ah… What happened to the food?
Adekunle: You are asking a stupid question! You know how much I dislike pepper and you prepared this rubbish?
Rasheedah: (thinking) What’s wrong with this man? Why is he yelling at my sister? (steps in) Hey! Mr. Man! Watch how you talk to my sister!
Khadijah: Rasheedah!
Rasheedah: Leave me alone… Your mother gives her depression and sadness in marriage—all because she’s yet to get pregnant. Who gives children? Allah! Why can’t your mom beg Allah for another child? You call her all sorts of names… You and your mother are the cause of her problem! Women who are depressed don’t get pregnant… Until you make them happy… Take a good look at yourself before you hurt your wife! (storms out angrily, slams the door)
Adekunle: (jaw drops)
Khadijah: (jaw drops, pours chilled drink) Uhmm… Should I take the food and prepare another one?
Adekunle: Don’t worry, I’ll eat it like that.
Khadijah: (surprised) I thought you said you didn’t like it?
Adekunle: I don’t want to ever see your sister in my house again, or else it’s over between us.
Khadijah: (sad face) Okay… (tries to leave)
Adekunle: Where are you going?
Khadijah: Inside the room.
Adekunle: Sit and join me.
Khadijah: I don’t have an appetite…
Adekunle: What of the fruit I bought? Have you eaten them?
Khadijah: Yes… remaining small. (faces down)
Adekunle: What’s your sister’s occupation?
Khadijah: She is a prosecutor.
Adekunle: Ohh… That explains a lot. I’m sorry for yelling. I don’t know what came over me… I’m just so down too.
Khadijah: It’s okay. (sits next to him) Issues like this are bound to happen… Please eat.
Adekunle: (nods)
(Curtain)
Few weeks later (Weekend, inside the house)
Khadijah and Adekunle are indoors, having fun and enjoying time together.
Khadijah: Please stop chasing me… I’m tired! (panting)
Adekunle: (panting) I’m tired too… Just surrender, please.
Khadijah: In our family, we never give up! (still running)
Adekunle: Okay… I give up! (he falls on a chair) Look at me… sweating, gosh!
Khadijah: I win!!!! (jumps, placing her head in his arms) Let’s go take a shower and nap.
Adekunle: That’s a good idea… Let’s go.
(As they are about to enter the room, they hear a knock at the door.)
Khadijah: You go first; I’ll get the door.
Adekunle: Okay. (enters the room and slams the door)
Khadijah: I’m coming. (opens the door) Good afternoon, ma.
Mom (Adekunle’s mother): (pushes past her without responding) Get out of my way… Where is my son? I’ve been trying his line, but he didn’t pick!
Khadijah: He is…
Mom: Before that… I’m here to pack your things. This is your seventh month in this marriage without any good news. I’m here to throw your things out.
Khadijah: (surprised) Ma?
Mom: (bergers into the room, throwing her bags)
(One bag hits Khadijah’s head; she loses consciousness and passes out.)
Adekunle: (hurriedly runs out of the bathroom with a towel tied around his waist) Mom! What are you doing? What the fuck is wrong with you, mom?! (notices Khadijah on the floor) What did you do to her?
Mom: I didn’t do anything! I only asked her to leave!
Adekunle: (lifts her head, shakes her gently) Give me my phone on the bed!
Mom: (scared) Nothing happened to her now… (hands over the phone)
Adekunle: Hello, doctor! This is an emergency!
(Curtain)