The Nightmare Girl

“No, no-no… don’t come any closer. Stay back! G-get ba-back!!!” I woke up to sweat dripping from my entire body. I steadied my raging heart with the palm of hands and hugged myself to slow down the sprint race it had decided to embark on. I did all these while rocking myself back and forth because I had noticed that doing that helped calm me down whenever I woke up from a nightmare.

It was the fifth night in a row that I would be running away from the evil witch and her ominous looking dagger. I needed help big time. I turned to the digital clock on my bedside table to check the time. “2:15 am. No wonder I keep dreaming about witches. They say 12 am to 3 am is the time when they usually have their ‘meetings’. Arrgh! Why is my life so fucked? I don’t even wanna go back to bed. I guess I’ll just watch Demon Slayer.”

Morning caught me still watching anime on my bed. I neatly tucked myself into my bed and laid down on my side with my phone in hand and earphones on. Watching anime was my only escape from my nightmare of a life. I had been living with them from as early as I knew how to dream.

I had complained about the nightmares to my mom as a kid since she was the only one I had. I had no siblings but I was told that I had a dad. Sadly, I had no memories of the man. We had talked many times but he seemed more like a father figure than a father to me.

I had told my mom about the nightmares and how I wished I would never dream again. She had rebuked me vehemently, citing stories of people like Joseph to try to encourage me that the ability to dream was a gift that not everyone was blessed with and I had to be grateful for it.

Seven-year-old me didn’t care about gifts that she couldn’t play with so she discarded her mother’s words and continued praying that she would one day stop dreaming. She was wise, maybe I would not have to deal with it now if I had continued praying then.

I checked my hands, legs, and tummy in the standing mirror behind my bed. “No new scars. Thankfully. I guess the scars really do appear when she catches and mutilates me in the dream as I presumed. I just need to keep evading her and I’ll be safe.” I pulled my pajamas over my head and watched my full breasts bounce before taking a graceful bow. There were marks all over my fair skin.

I looked at my body. Disgusted, I hastily put my top back on. I had grown to detest my skin.

“It’s all because of that evil witch that continues to try to mutilate me in my dreams while chasing me and yelling that I tell her where I hid ‘it’. I have been having the same dream for the past ten years but I still don’t know what this ‘it’ is, and I have no intention of finding out what it is either. I’ll just ensure that I keep avoiding her, I’ll just ensure I stay safe.”

I strolled down to the kitchen where I knew my mom was already preparing breakfast. The smell of freshly fried Akara balls hinted at me of course, but then Saturday mornings were incomplete without Pap and Akara in my house. I skipped into the kitchen to hug my mother from behind but she forcibly pushed my little arms away. I looked at my hands wondering what I had done wrong to receive such treatment from my mother.

“Why won’t you tell her where it is Ijeoma? Why do you choose to cause me grief? Do you know why I named you Ijeoma, Amara, Onyinye, Adaora, and Chisom?” My mother looked at me with pain in her eyes. I couldn’t answer her so I decided to shake my head in response to her question.

“Ijeoma means ‘Good journey in life’, Chisom means ‘God is following me’, Amara means ‘Grace’, Onyinye means ‘Gift’ and finally, Adaora means ‘Daughter of all’. Now, do you know why I gave you these names? Can you draw a connection between all these names?”

She was looking at me intently again, probably expecting something intelligent to come out from my mouth. I stared back at her, disappointed in my incompetence to come up with an intelligent response even if it was not the correct answer.

“No mother… a-although I feel like there’s a certain message they are all trying to pass across but I can’t seem to place my finger on it. C-Could you please tell me yourself?” She stared at me hard with her rich brown eyes before speaking. “Of course my precious daughter, I’ll tell you. Just let me finish up with this batch of Akara that I’m frying and I’ll get back to you.”

I got myself a low stool to sit on. Mother had told me that my father carved it for me before he left us. He left a year after my birth telling my mom that he wanted to travel overseas to search for greener pastures since I was the longest-lasting child they had had after six painful births and deaths. He said he wanted to ‘make it’ so he could give us the life we deserved. I didn’t believe any of that crap of course.

“Who cares about having all the money in the world? I just want a father I can hold on to on scary rainy nights. He abandoned me before I even got the chance to let go of him. He isn’t my father, he is just a figurehead.” Carrying that particular stool always provoked me but I had no other choice because my mom refused to get me any other one.

I sat down to watch her and saw that she was already packing the golden balls out of the hot oil. I sometimes wondered how it would feel if I could tip the giant pan over while she was frying but I would quickly dismiss the thought as soon it came. How something so sinister could cross my mind, I often wondered. It was almost as if I was someone else at that point, it was as though I could hear a voice whispering it to me.

I shook my head briskly and decided to engage my mom in conversation instead.

“So mom, can you tell me about the names now? I have assignments to do later on.” She wiped her hands on a kitchen rag and drew me to the couch to talk with me. I was surprised because she never left her golden balls of Akara to cool down before eating it. What she wants to tell me must be very important for her to leave breakfast to cool down. I better pay rapt attention to what she has to say in that case.

“Adaora, I asked you a question before, though you told me you didn’t know the answer. I shall tell you now.” She paused to drink a cup of water and put water on the gas stove to make the pap. I thanked God silently because He knew I had been hungry since I woke up by 2 am. She mixed the pap and came to sit down beside me.

“Chisom, I gave you those names because I wanted them to work for you, for us. I called you a gift that the grace of God has blessed me with to prove that He is indeed following me through life to ensure that I experience a good journey in life. I called you daughter of all because I believe you will be the daughter that will bring joy into this broken heart of mine. The one that will stay and eventually grow up to give me a good name among my fellows.”

I was twelve but I was smart enough to see what she had done in those few sentences. She had managed to use all my names to come up with a beautiful reason and I felt special. I hugged her tightly. I was lucky to have a mother like her. In fact, ‘blessed’ would be a better adjective to describe how I felt. I was still hugging her when it occurred to me that she had emphasized the word ‘stay’. It wasn’t the first or tenth time she would do that, I needed to know why.

“Mommy, why do you keep telling me to stay when it’s obvious that I’m not going anywhere?” She cupped my face in both her palms and whispered ever so softly, I could barely make out the words that came out of her mouth. I suddenly remembered the kettle on the gas stove and my mother hurried to make the pap. A few minutes afterward, she rejoined me on the couch and held my hands in hers.

“Amara, you know that as a mother I have had to bury six of my children before you. You are my seventh child, my symbol of perfection. All your elder siblings died before they entered puberty. Some in their first week, some in their third year. It is just so sad, the oldest was the one before the one I had before you.” She paused because she was visibly shivering at this point. I placed my palms on hers to steady them. After many minutes, she was able to continue.

“He died when he was ten. I latched on to his dead body for two solid days and I refused to eat for two whole weeks out of depression. I couldn’t even cry out because I had gotten tired of crying. Five years into my marriage and I had had to bury five children. It was enough to turn any woman crazy but I persisted. I knew I would one day have a child that would stay.”

She looked at me with so much love and fondness that I decided that my lifelong dream would be to always make her happy. I was about to hug her again when her face suddenly changed. She had on the stern look she gave when I initially tried to hug her that morning. Something in me told me it was time to flee.

“Adaora, you are my only eyes right now. Why do you choose to keep me in darkness? Why do you refuse to reveal your iyi-uwa to the priestess? Don’t you love me? Don’t you wanna stay with mommy? Every time you fall sick it is almost as if you want to die and leave me all alone here. Let me just tell you, if you die I will just kill myself. I will follow you to the other world “

I looked at her hard and unsmiling. I suddenly stood up from my seat. I didn’t understand why I was angry and inside me, it felt like someone else was feeling the vexation and reacting to my mother. I was just about to climb the stairs back up when she drew me back crying.

“I may be a university graduate but I still strongly believe in Odinani, my daughter. Your father might have not been here for you all these while, through all these crises, but I am. You can trust me with your life my daughter. Let me help you, let me save you.”

Her arms were stretched out towards me but all I wanted to do at the moment was run away from her. I was just about to run away when everything faded into the darkness around me. I briefly remembered mother’s golden balls of Akara and her now cold pap. She had gone through so much stress to prepare it and it was all going to waste because I was having another stupid episode. It was sad.

***

I woke up in bits, the smell of the hospital cleaning agents jerking me to full attention. “Arrgh! I hate the smell of hospitals.” I grunted and swore under my breath. Where a twelve-year-old learned how to swear the way I did, I still did not understand. It was almost as if an older person was living inside of me.

I opened my eyes fully to see a dark-skinned man standing beside my mom and holding her hands fondly. It appeared like they were close acquaintances because he hugged her and turned back to me. It was then that I knew who he was. I saw my eyes, nose, and perfect dentition in him. The dark-skinned man with matching dentition as mine was no doubt, my father. I needed to know what was going on.

“Hello love… u-um umm… hey… I-I’m your dad, Adaora. You might not be able to recognize me because I left when you were still a wee suckling but boy am I glad to see that you have grown into such a beautiful young lady. How have you been my dear?”

How have I been? How have I been?! All those scary nights and lonely days, all those nights I cried myself to sleep and cried myself back awake. The weeks I stayed admitted to the hospital, causing my mom’s blood pressure to rise. One time she almost had a partial stroke because I suddenly fainted and went unconscious for two hours. All these and more, yet, this familiar stranger in front of me dared to ask me how I had been?!

I wanted to say so many hurtful words to him but at the same time I was immensely glad that he was back with me, “with us…” I cleared my throat before I spoke.

“I’ve been okay, father. It’s been rough, but I have survived and I’ll keep surviving.”

He smiled. Awkwardly at first, but much brighter and warmer afterward. After a special moment of laughs and smiles, he cleared his throat and his face lost all its mirth.

“Ada, there’s something I need to tell you but I need you to brace yourself for it.” I didn’t know how to react so I opted for a nod, I was interested in knowing what the latest bad news would be. He cleared his throat and coughed a little before speaking.

“You have sickle cell anemia, my love. You are an SS and that is why you have been falling ill all this while. Your mother knew but I still don’t know why she refuses to accept it. Sh-She feels it’s a more of a spiritual issue and as such requires spi-spiritual the-treatment….” He was stuttering rapidly and stealing glances at my mom.

She looked away while I looked at both of them with mixed feelings. On one hand, was my father that ran away from home who could have discovered this much earlier so we could start proper treatment and on the other hand, was my mom that knew what to do but was hell-bent on experimenting with my life to prove a superstitious belief. I couldn’t believe either one of them.

***

Two weeks later, I started proper treatment much to my mother’s dismay. She was so scared that she was going to lose me, she strongly believed that I needed to show my iyi-uwa to the priestess to get saved. Well, who knows? She might have been right because three weeks later I died during another episode.

I fainted but I never woke up and like she promised me that Saturday morning of the golden Akara balls, she killed herself so she could at least join me in the other realm where she could hopefully be a mother to six children since she had been prohibited from being one in this realm.