Kitchen
Grace: (frowning) I thought she asked you to help her. Now move to your room or find any other reasonable thing to do!
Blessing: (innocently, with a spark of excitement) Like what, mum? Or should I go and wash our clothes?
Grace: No! Besides, we have a washing machine.
Blessing: (surprised, almost laughing) Really? Since when did you buy it, mummy? And you didn’t even show us? At least Fatimah won’t have to stress herself so much again. So, where is this washing machine?
Grace: (pointing at Fatimah with disdain) Here she is—standing right there.
Blessing: (stunned, voice trembling) Mum! That’s unfair. She’s a human being just like us. How can you call her a washing machine? You’ve never allowed me to do any chores in this house, and now look at me—I don’t even
know how to cook at this age! Don’t you have a conscience? Haba, mummy!
Grace: (snapping, her voice thundering) If I hear one more word from your mouth, Blessing, you won’t believe what will come next!
Blessing: (murmuring, walking away angrily) Someone cannot even learn how to cook. It’s only errands, errands every day.
Grace: (shouting) Are you talking back to me?! Blessing! Come back here!
(Blessing storms off. Grace turns sharply to Fatimah, her eyes filled with suspicion.)
Grace: Madam! You are turning my daughter against me, abi?
Fatimah: (shaking her head fearfully) No… no, ma. I swear… I didn’t.
Grace: (snorts) I’ll catch you one day. Is it not you? Anyway, when you’re done here, take this money and this list. Go to the market and buy everything I wrote.
Fatimah: (quietly) Ok ma.
Grace: Do fast oh. If you like, sleep there, and see if I won’t skin you alive. If you also like, go and have sex again—I don’t care! Just don’t waste my time. You have less than five minutes to get out of here and return.
Fatimah: (bows her head) Ok ma.
---
10 Minutes Later – On the Street
(Fatimah walks timidly toward the market. Her heart beats faster—not with fear, but with a strange excitement. It’s been years since she was last allowed outside. She looks around, wide-eyed, taking in the new buildings, busy shops, and fresh faces in the community. For once, she feels like she’s breathing different air.)
Fatimah: (to herself, smiling softly) So this is how the outside looks now… everything has changed.
(She walks past a group of children. They point at her tattered clothes and unkempt hair, laughing and mocking her. She lowers
her head, but instead of crying, she keeps walking—her joy of freedom outweighs the insults.)
Market Square
(The marketplace is crowded and noisy, filled with sellers calling out their goods. Fatimah moves from one stall to another, carefully buying items on the list. Then, she suddenly pauses, staring at the paper, confused.)
Fatimah: (squinting at the list, muttering) Spi… spi… spin… spina… (frustrated) Kai! Which kind thing be this one again? What is this sef?
(She stands helplessly in the middle of the crowd for almost five minutes, chewing her finger nervously. Finally, an idea sparks in her head.)
Fatimah: (determined) I know what to do.
(She walks back to the last shop where she bought tomatoes and approaches the seller, bowing politely.)
Fatimah: Excuse me, ma. Please… what is written here? (she points at the list, her eyes pleading) And… what does it mean?
Tomato Seller: (leans forward to check the paper) Spinach. That’s what’s written here.
Fatimah: (frowning, scratching her head) Spinach? Please, ma… I don’t know what that means.
Tomato Seller: Do you know efo?
Fatimah: (relieved) Yes ma.
Tomato Seller: That’s the English name—spinach.
Fatimah: (sighs with relief) Ohhh! Thank you so much, ma. Thank you.
(She moves to the vegetable section, muttering to herself.)
Fatimah: Why can’t she just write efo? Why this wickedness? Assuming I wasn’t smart enough to ask, she would have punished me again.
(Suddenly, a young boy dashes past and snatches all the money from her hand. Fatimah gasps and begins to chase after him.)
Fatimah: (screaming) Ole! Thief!! Somebody help me!!!
(The boy is too fast. Fatimah stumbles and falls flat on her face. Laughter ripples from some onlookers while others pity her. Tears stream down her face as she wails.)
Fatimah: (crying) Ahhhhhh! Ayemi oh! I’m dead today! What will I tell them at home?
(Just then, a stranger—Jamiu—darts past, chasing the thief with surprising speed. The crowd watches as he disappears. Minutes later, Jamiu returns, holding out the money to her. He stretches his hand to help her up, but she refuses, still crying.)
Jamiu: (smiling gently) Okay… here. This is the money that thief took from you.
Fatimah: (quickly jumps up, wipes her gown, and collects the money) Ahhh! Thank you, sir. Thank you so much!
Jamiu: (studying her face with admiration) Wow… uhmm… my name is Jamiu. And you?
Fatimah: (hesitant, surprised by his friendliness) Uhhh… my name is… Fatimah.
Jamiu: (smiling wider) What a beautiful name. You look cute, though. So… where do you live?
Fatimah: (suddenly guarded, her expression changing) I need to go. My… my mummy is waiting for me at home.
(She clutches the money and runs away quickly, disappearing into the crowd.)
Jamiu: (calls after her) Ehhhh! Wait! Please!
(She is gone. He pauses, staring in the direction she ran, shaking his head.)
Jamiu: (to himself) What a strange girl… in such a ragged dress, yet so pretty. Who is she? I must meet her again… no matter what.
(He walks to his car and drives off.)
---
At Home – 10 Minutes Later
(Fatimah enters the house, exhausted, clutching the market bag. She freezes when she sees Grace and Abdulrahman waiting, both furious. Abdulrahman is holding a belt, snapping it against his palm. Fatimah swallows hard.)
Fatimah: (stammering) Go… good afternoon… ma.
Grace: (screaming) What’s good about this afternoon?! Where are you coming from?! I only sent you to the market, and now you’re coming back at this time? You branched at your boyfriend’s house abi? The sex you had ten years ago is not enough for you?!! Kneel down there!
Fatimah: (bursts into tears, falling to her knees) No… no, ma! It’s not like that. Someone snatched the money from me, but… but luckily, somebody helped me catch him. Please, I’m not lying.
Abdulrahman: (snarling) Will you shut up, ashawo! Cheap prostitute. Kneel down!
(Fatimah obeys, trembling. She stretches out the bag of food and some change.)
Fatimah: Please ma… here is everything you sent me to buy… and here is your change.
Grace: (snatching the bag) Who is your mother? If you ever call me “mum” again, I will slit your throat! Now… TAKE OFF YOUR CLOTHES!
Fatimah: (shocked, gasps) Ma?!
Grace: (roaring) Are you deaf?!
Abdulrahman: (grinning, in his thoughts) At last… I will see her nakedness today. I’ve always wondered…
Grace: (snapping at Abdulrahman) Get me a knife!
Abdulrahman: (smirking) With pleasure, mum. (He runs to the kitchen.)
Fatimah: (rolling on the floor, weeping bitterly) Mommy, please! Please, I beg you!
Grace: (slaps her hard across the face) Call me your mother again, and you’ll see what happens next! This is just the beginning.
(Abdulrahman returns, handing Grace the
knife. Fatimah’s eyes widen in horror. She screams, struggling.)
Fatimah: Please oooo! Help me!!!
Grace: (raising the knife threateningly) Shout again, and I swear I will slit you open. Try me!
(Fatimah clamps her hand over her mouth, sobbing uncontrollably.)
Grace: (tearing at her clothes violently) Let’s see how you’ll deny this now!
(Fatimah tries to push her away, but Abdulrahman grabs her, pinning her down. They rip her gown until she is left half-naked, trembling, covering herself with her arms. At that exact moment, Blessing enters the room…)
Blessing: Ahhhhhhhhhh! Stop!!! (She rushes to Fatimah’s side and quickly covers her with her sweater.) Have you all gone crazy? Mom—even you? You stripped her naked in front of Abdulrahman? Mom, why are you so cruel, why are you so wicked and heartless? What kind of mother are you? I can’t believe you’re my mother. See how you treat Fatimah just because of what? (Facing Abdulrahman.) And you! Shebi you’ve seen what you wanted to see, you shameless womanizer!
Abdulrahman: (He moves closer to her and slaps her.) Don’t you ever talk to me like that! Do you even know what she did? Mom sent her to get what we’ll eat for lunch, but see the time she came back—this is after 4! And you’re saying we shouldn’t deal with her?
Blessing: (Holding her face.) You slapped me, then you’re explaining rubbish to me? I swear, if you ever dare raise your hand against me again, I’ll break your head—try me!
Abdulrahman: (Shocked.) Am I the one you’re talking to like this? Are you mad?
Grace: Enough! Enough, you two! (Facing Fatimah.) Are you happy now? You’ve finally turned my children against each other. Now I believe you’re a witch—you this… (She tries to hit Fatimah again but Blessing takes the blow for her.) Blessing! Did you see what you just did? You let me hit you instead of her? What’s wrong with you? Instead of joining us, you’re against us. Have you forgotten your father died because of her? Have you forgotten how your father hated me on his last day on earth because of her? And you’re supporting her? I hope she hasn’t possessed you!
Blessing: Mom, Dad died the way God destined it. Stop blaming her! You people should fear God. Oh, I forgot—you don’t even have a heart.
Grace: (Furious, she slaps her for the first time but immediately regrets it.) See what you’ve made me do? What is wrong with you?
Blessing: (Holding her face, eyes wet with tears.) If hitting me will make you stop treating Fatimah like this, then I’m hungry for more. This is the first time you’ve ever raised your hand against me… (She helps Fatimah up gently and accompanies her to her room, ignoring her own tears.)
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