Ifeoma drove at a dangerous speed to Halima's home. She packed in front of the gigantic and royal-like gate and got out of the car not even remembering to lock it.
It was the second time she was stepping foot into the house, her husband's house .
It was a typical rich people's house, a beautiful duplex painted green with numerous expensive outdoor flowers beautifying the side of the walls. Standing Air conditioners stood at different corners of the house giving the home a chilly feeling. Mohammed was a rich man, no doubt. A middle aged man born into a wealthy family was bound to have such houses.
Ifeoma was shocked to see Halima whimpering on the floor in her own pool of blood. When she heard bleeding, she didn't think it was something so huge and gory.
She and Bola helped to get Halima into her car and they zoomed off to the hospital.
In the car, while in pains and agony, Halima kept lamenting and crying.
"He pushed me, he threw such a huge flower vase at me. He punched me like I was a man like him. I... I... never wanted him, my parents did this..." She reminisced while Bola told her to reserve her strength instead of talking.
Ifeoma was focused on the road, as she drove to the nearest hospital.
Halima was unconscious when they got to the hospital and while they both waited outside for the doctor to treat her and come back with a good news, they talked.
"She's never going into that man's house again." Ifeoma concluded.
"I told you girls that she should leave this man but whatever I say looks like I'm being jealous of your married lives! Marriage is not a do or die affair! When will you women learn this? Gosh! I can't believe this! That idiot had the right to beat her up, have her wounded and then run away? Wow!" Bola ranted in exasperation as she walked to and fro.
The female doctor who went to attend to her came out at that moment, Bola and Ifeoma ran to her.
"How is she?" Ifeoma questioned.
"Who are you to her? Is she here with her husband?" The doctor asked.
"Was it her husband who brought her here?! What kind of useless question is that!" Bola snapped.
"Call down, Babe. Doc, she's divorced. We are the guardians available. What's her state?" Ifeoma replied calmly.
"Okay. I'm sorry to say this but it's a case of DOA."
"Doctor, speak in our language and not in tongues, please" Ifeoma pleaded.
"She was Dead On Arrival. She had given up before you reached here" The doctor said and left.
Ifeoma screamed.
***
Ifeoma's Heart didn't stop beating rapidly. She watched as Halima's mother collapsed onto the floor, crying and shouting. She scoffed at the sight.
She was enraged.
"You should have done this when she was forced to marry that man" She suddenly let out.
"This is not the time to blame anyone! Do you think our own child's death can be more painful for you than it is for us?" Halima's dad said in his strict voice.
But Ifeoma was having non of it.
"She's my childhood friend. You forced her to marry that man because he's rich and a Muslim! You should have done all this when your daughter came home the first time, second time, third time, saying her husband raised her hand on her but what did you do? You sent her back, saying her husband will always be her husband" Ifeoma continued in her calm self.
She was hurting, she was angry, she was in a state of shock. These were things she expected Bola to say as the spokeswoman of their clique but Bola was in utmost tears and not saying a word. The ones who appear strong and uncaring hurts and care the most.
Ifeoma still found it hard to believe that she was really dead. Halima was such a happy girl. She was such a good, reserved and homely girl. She finished the Quran while in Secondary school. She prayed five times a day like a Muslim should. She was perfect.
The troubles started when she fell in love in the second year of university, with Richard. They were such a beautiful couple, they did everything together and was the evidence that love existed. Not until her father found out about it, her father been an alhaji was never going to give her daughter out to a Christian, an Igbo one at that. Hell went loose as he was adamant, even when Richard chose to convert to Islam for the sake of the love of his life, it wasn't enough for Halima's father.
He cursed their relationship and rained hell on them until Halima decided to give it up and get married to the man of her father's dreams, Mohammed, despite knowing that she was never going to be happy in the relationship.
Ifeoma remained non-teary as she continued to reminisce the past. The first time they went clubbing, the first time they had alcohol, the way they laughed at their first crushes and how they got over their first love as teenagers.
She remembered the last time she spent with her girlfriend, her last words echoed, ' I thought my own home was full of drama, but Oma, yours is a soap opera. I'll call you later.' She called later like she said but Ifeoma didn't pick up her call due to the issues with her own husband.
'She was pregnant.
She wanted to run away then and I told her to stay for a while to see if he changes.' Ifeoma thought.
She stood up and walked out of the hospital like a zombie, got into her car and zoomed off.
It was already 12am in the midnight when she got home.
"Where the hell have you been?!" Fikayo snapped at her.
She stared at her husband for minutes before she finally surrendered to her heart and burst into uncontrollable tears.
"Ha.... Hali....She's dead" She choked out.
TO BE CONTINUED...