EPISODE 12
(They enter Fatimah’s room. Fatimah sits weakly on the bed, still shaken. Blessing goes down on her knees beside her.)
Blessing: (softly) I’m so sorry… for all the pain my family has caused you. I wish I could do something to erase it all. Words can’t describe what you’re going through right now, but I believe one day you’ll get out of this. Please forgive me… I’m truly sorry.
Fatimah: (wiping her tears, voice trembling) It’s okay. Thank you for standing up for me… and for always covering for me. You remind me so much of Dad. You’re truly his daughter—you inherited his kindness.
Blessing: (looking around the room, frowning) Let me get you something to wear. (She searches Fatimah’s small box and pulls out some torn clothes, shocked.) Are these the only clothes you have?
Fatimah: (nodding shyly) Yes… just give me one. I’ll wear it.
Blessing: No! These look like rags we use in the toilet. You know what? Wait for me. I’ll be right back.
(She rushes out to her room. A knock is heard on Blessing’s door. It’s Grace.)
Grace: (knocking softly) Hey, honey. About what happened earlier… I just want to say I’m sorry for hitting you. Can I come in?
Blessing: (coldly) Please, just go away! Leave me alone!
Grace: I said I’m sorry now. Okay, I promise I’ll make it up to you. What do you want me to buy for you? Hmm?
Blessing: Good question. How about buying good clothes for Fatimah? I’d really appreciate that.
Grace: (scoffs) You know damn well I can’t do that. Besides, she already has clothes to wear. You know what? I’m coming in. (She barges in and sees Blessing packing clothes.) What are you doing?
Blessing: What does it look like?
Grace: Where are you taking those clothes?
Blessing: To someone who needs them more than I do.
Grace: Don’t tell me you’re giving them to that witch!
Blessing: (firmly) Then I guess I’m a witch too, Mum. Look, here’s the deal: let me give her these clothes, and I won’t be mad at you. Deal?
Grace: Yeah, but—
Blessing: No “but.” And you must not burn these clothes I’m about to give her. I repeat—don’t! Or else, Mom, you won’t believe what I’ll do next.
Grace: (defeated) Okay o, I’ve heard you.
Blessing: Good. Thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me. (She walks out on her.)
Grace: (muttering to herself) Fatimah! You’ve finally possessed my daughter… turned her against me. Abi? No problem. No problem. (She walks away bitterly.)
(Blessing enters Fatimah’s room with a bundle of clothes. Fatimah looks up, surprised.)
Blessing: Sorry I’m late. Mom delayed me. But here—these are for you. Do you like them?
Fatimah: (eyes widening in shock at the pile of clothes) All these… for me? Wow. Thank you so much.
Blessing: Try them on! Or… let me help you choose. Take these jeans and this pink top. I know they’ll fit you perfectly.
Fatimah: (hesitant) Okay… (She changes. The jeans feel tight, and she shifts uncomfortably.) Uhhhm… this trouser is too tight for me.
Blessing: (clapping her hands in excitement) Oh my God! Look at you! You’re so beautiful—gosh, babe, I never knew you were this hot! A whole angel hiding under rags. OMG!
Fatimah: (smiling shyly) Thanks… but I’m not comfortable in these trousers. And what if your mom finds me wearing them? She might kill me.
Blessing: (waves her hand dismissively) Leave her to me. I’ll handle her. Don’t be scared, okay? Very soon, we’ll even hang out together—I promise. But first… selfie! Come here.
Fatimah: Uhhhm… do we have to?
Blessing: Yes! Come on, say “cheese!”
Fatimah: (laughing) Cheese!
(They pose, take selfies, and giggle. Hours pass as they gist, play, and laugh together. For the first time in years, Fatimah feels alive again.)
Fatimah: (laughing heartily) You are very funny!
Blessing: Yeah, that guy is so weird. Imagine—asking me out just like that!
Fatimah: (giggles) Maybe he truly likes you. Unlike me… I don’t even know how love feels. But honestly, you are so funny.
Blessing: It’s okay, baby girl. Very soon, we’ll hang out together. All I need to do is convince Mom.
(Grace suddenly opens the door, frowning.)
Grace: Ehh you! Don’t you know it’s time to prepare dinner, or should I start begging you?
Fatimah: (quickly jumps to her feet, trembling) I… I’m sorry, ma. I’ll do it right away.
Blessing: (noticing how she’s shaking) Ehh calm down. Don’t worry, I’ll help. We’re preparing dinner together.
Grace: No, you are not! (turns to Blessing, angry) And why did you give her the clothes I bought for you last month?
Blessing: Because she needs them more than I do. So… Fatimah, let’s go and cook.
Fatimah: (nervously) Don’t worry, I can do it alone. (She hurries toward the kitchen.)
Blessing: Wait for me! (tries to follow, but Grace blocks her way) What is it? Why are you blocking me?
Grace: Since you suddenly have “nothing doing,” why don’t you help me loose my hair?
I need to retouch it tomorrow.
Blessing: But…
Grace: Oh, so now you’d rather help her over your own mother?
Blessing: (rolling her eyes) Whatever. Let’s go.
Grace: That’s my girl.
---
(In the kitchen. Fatimah is busy preparing dinner. She hums quietly to herself, trying to stay calm. Abdulrahman walks in to fetch a glass of water. The sight before him makes him freeze.)
Abdulrahman: (staring, shocked) Fa… Fatimah?
Fatimah: (turns quickly) Sir? Do you need anything?
Abdulrahman: (lost in thought, his eyes scanning her from head to toe) Wow… is this how beautiful this girl is? In those jeans…
she’s even more beautiful than my girlfriend. Wow…
Fatimah: (snapping him out) Bro Abdulrahman!!!
Abdulrahman: (startled, almost spilling his water) Yeee—yes! Sorry. I just got carried away. Carry on with your work.
Fatimah: Okay… but why are you staring at me like that?
Abdulrahman: Me? No! What’s in your body that would make me stare at you? It’s not like you’re more beautiful than my girlfriend.
Fatimah: (confused) What are you saying?
Abdulrahman: (avoids her gaze, flustered) Just… forget about what I said. (He quickly rushes out of the kitchen.)
(Fatimah drops the spoon in her hand, leans on the counter, and whispers to herself with tears in her eyes.)
Fatimah: Now that he’s seen my nakedness, he can’t get his eyes off me? Oh God… when will I be free from this bondage?
Comments
Post a Comment