“Suleiman, you surprised me. You know how much I love Halima, and you know that I’m not ready to share that love with another woman and, you are still advising me to marry a second wife?” I asked.
“I know, but look at it in the other way, my friend. She’s not capable of giving you a child. That’s why you need another woman that can bear you a child,” he said.
“The idea of marrying another woman has never and will never cross my mind,” I said.
“But Ahmed, check this out. Even if you marry a second wife, that won’t change the love you have for Halima. Your father is old and he needs grandchildren from you as his only son. Bro, I’ll advise you to better get a second wife as soon as possible,” he said, tapping me on the shoulder.
I stayed quiet for what seemed like fifty seconds, thinking. Suleiman knew very well that I would not heed to his advice. Why can’t they accept the fact that it’s only Allah that gives children? Halima is not a barren, everything has its own time and I believe it’s not yet my time. That’s why she hasn’t given me a child. It’s better I stuck with my wife to the end than for me to bring in a tyrant as a second wife.
I stood up immediately and headed to the door.
“Ahmed, where are you going?” Suleiman called out.
I just stopped, turned back and said, “I’m out of here since you don’t have anything meaningful to say.”
“Ahmed, think about what I just told you now, it’s for your own good,” I heard Suleiman say but I opened the door and left.
I entered my car and started the engine. I left his house premises upset and surprised that he could give me such advice instead of him to encourage me not to give up on Allah.
It’s been four years now, yet no child. My wife would come home almost everyday from work, sit on the bed and start sobbing. I would come home and meet her crying; all I could do was to encourage her not to give up yet and wiped her tears.
One fateful morning, she woke up from the bed and rushed to the bathroom like someone who was being chased out of her sleep by a masquerade. I followed her and met her vomiting.
“Baby, what’s wrong with you? Are you sick?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I have been this way since yesterday—vomiting,” she answered after rinsing her mouth.
“You need to see Doctor Smith, I think you are having fever or malaria,” I said after touching her body, feeling her pulse and discovered that she was running a temperature. She looked pale and sick. I drove her down to the hospital and few tests were done to know what was really wrong with her.
We were sitting in Doctor Smith’s office waiting for the test result. He walked in shortly with the result in his hands, and beaming smiles. Why is he smiling? I asked myself.
“Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Ahmed, your wife is three weeks pregnant,” he said, handing the envelope that contained the test results to me.
“What?” I and halima shouted the same time.
“Doctor, I don’t understand, pregnant? What’s the child’s name?” I asked in the confusion.
“Huh? The child’s name?” the doctor asked and bursted into a loud laughter.
“Sorry, I’m confused. I don’t believe this doctor,” I said, still unable to believe the news.
“See for yourself,” Dr. Smith said, smiling. I tore the envelope with rush and brought out the result. We read it and saw that she was truly pregnant. Halima and I looked each other in the eyes, a surge of tears fell from her eyes immediately. I couldn’t hold the tears too, a surge of tears fell from my eyes too. Halima kept on crying and thanking Allah for remembering her and bringing her out of shame. I was speechless, I bent my head, raised it back and muttered.
“Alhamdullilah! Allah ya tuna dani (Allah have finally remembered me).”
Dr. Smith was just watching the little scene smiling non stop and congratulating us, while Halima was still crying and praising Allah.
During the period of her pregnancy, I didn’t allow her do anything. I stopped her from going to the office, I didn’t want any harm to come to my child. Although, she disagreed and tried to argue with me xbut I had to beg her to stay at home.
“Masoyya, ina lafiya kuma zan kula da aiki, bani iya zama gida kuwace rana (But honey, I’m fine and will be careful at work. I can’t be sitting all day at home),” she argued.
“Na sani ama sa dai ki yi hankuri (I know, but you have to bear it). You know how long it took us before you were able to conceive, I can’t take chances, so just sit at home while I do the working,” I said, making her see reasons why she didn’t need to work for now until she put to bed. “And I don’t want you to get fatigued due to excessive stress, you know,” I added.
She just sighed and said, “Okay sir, your wish is my command.” Then she gave me a mock salute and stomped her feet to the ground playfully and it made me cachinnate loudly.
“You aren’t serious,” I said amidst laughter. She laughed at her little joke too.
“Okay, I’m off to work now. Please take care of yourself and our baby. Don’t do anything, let the house help do it, including the cooking. Just go to your room and sleep, okay?” I said.
“Okay I won’t do anything. Take care of yourself too and drive safe. I love you,” she said.
“I love you more,” I replied and kissed her on the lips. I kissed my baby (her tummy) too before leaving for work.
- I'm a great guy