Tears of a clown

‘Assalamu alaikum, you must be really close-by to answer the door so promptly.’ I commented stretching out my hand to shake hers. ‘Yes, I came down and waited the moment you said you were on your way here.  Wa alaikumussalam, you are welcome Hajiya Bint.’ ‘MashaAllah, no wonder you couldn’t wait to do a grand […]

‘Assalamu alaikum, you must be really close-by to answer the door so promptly.’ I commented stretching out my hand to shake hers.

‘Yes, I came down and waited the moment you said you were on your way here.  Wa alaikumussalam, you are welcome Hajiya Bint.’

‘MashaAllah, no wonder you couldn’t wait to do a grand house warming, this house is a palace.’ I said while we were walking from the hallway to the sitting room.

‘Thank you Hajiya, we missed having you around that day but your apology came on time, so I read it out to all those asking where you were.’ Fureira answered with a smile. ‘Should I show you around the house or would you like a drink first?’ she asked.

‘Show me round, I can’t wait to see your Taj Mahal.’ I answered. She spent the next 30 minutes giving me a guided tour of the beautiful mansion that’s now her new home. By the time we returned to her downstairs sitting room (she has another one upstairs), I had run out of words to describe the beauty and opulence in every room, bathroom and hallway.

‘Wow this is truly grand. Congrats to you and well done to your husband. May Allah grant you a similar abode in paradise. You know that when a man and his wife are virtuous in this world, on entry into paradise, they will be re-united again as a couple. I pray that for you as well as the rest of us.’ I said collecting a glass of fruit juice from her.

‘Amen to that for the rest of you Hajiya Bint, but I certainly don’t pray to be married to my husband again in the next world. What I have suffered here is bad enough.’ She replied.

‘What you have suffered?’ I repeated almost choking on my drink ‘you call living in this splendour suffering?’

‘Yes Hajiya, because I am totally, completely frustrated and unhappy.’ She replied, suddenly very close to tears.

‘But what can possibly be wrong Fureira, in this idyll life that you lead?’ I aked.

‘Everything, Hajiya, everything. You can’t believe that I cry myself to sleep every night. I am so lonely and depressed. I never knew life can be so difficult. ‘ She said, with the tears now flowing freely down  her face.

‘Please, understand if I say you are not making sense at all.’ I said, moving to her side on the settee and putting a hand on her shoulder.

‘I know it’s not easy to understand, given what people see on the outside. But my whole marriage is a sham. My husband and I live two entirely different lives in the same house. We are like two polite strangers, doing all we can not to get in each other’s way.’ Fureira explained.

‘But how did it get to this? I mean surely it wasn’t always like this?’ I asked confused.

‘No it wasn’t. When I worked under you, we were newly-weds and he couldn’t seem to get enough of my company. You remember how he convinced me to leave the job all together the moment I went on maternity leave. It was heavenly then Hajiya, I can’t deny that. And for years afterwards, even after our second child, he was still loving and attentive, though a little busier. I understood that he was doing better at work, getting bigger responsibilities and better pay and so I took it in strides. Then the last two years, it became a different story. I get everything I need but not his attention. From days to weeks, to months and now we are talking about years.’ She concluded tearfully.

‘Did you try to talk to him?’ I asked.

‘Yes, at first he always said it was work, that it was getting too demanding  so I should understand if he was getting less attentive. Then he was always tired and fast asleep as soon as he got to his bed. Then he began to ‘fall ill’. So I got pissed off and said let me keep my distance, maybe he will miss me and come running. But from the time I made this decision,  he became totally relaxed and friendly. He is so happy he will do anything for me. If you were to bring anything for sale he will ask me to choose anything I want and he will pay for it. I have more clothes than I can ever need, servants all over the place. Luxury, comfort but no companionship.  Many times I’ve found myself praying he will return to the poor but attentive husband he used to be because at least then I was happy.’ Fureira explained.

‘Do you think there’s another woman involved?’ I asked.

‘I brought that up once and he said he wasn’t involved with anyone, that I shouldn’t allow myself to grow suspicious.  And frankly I don’t care anymore now.’ She replied.

‘But you have to care. Your world is falling apart and you have to do something. What do your relatives have to say about this problem?’I asked.

‘Nothing, because they don’t know anything about it. You see I am the eldest in my family. Everyone looks up to me from among my siblings. They rush to me when they have problems and they believe that I have the perfect marriage. To show them that I am living in worse misery than them is to shatter that myth. I prefer to cry myself to sleep every night than to do so.’ She said.

‘In other words you are shedding the tears of a clown.’ I observed.

‘No they are real tears, not those of a clown.’ She defended.

‘I know, even the tears of a clown are real. All it means is that like a clown, you cry only when there’s no one around. You see, like all other people, the clown is also human but because his life’s vocation is to make people laugh, he has to appear happy all the time.  Hence the lines from Smokey Robinson’s old song Tears of a clown/when there’s no one around.’   I explained.

‘I see, well you could say that. ‘ Fureira conceded.

‘Ok, then we will have to let in the elders. You know Islam prescribes inviting two responsible elders from both sides to mediate if a couple can’t solve their problems. So you have to decide who you want to tell so they can step in and save your marriage.’ I prescribed.

‘Unfortunately, it will make him very angry to hear that I have reported him to his people. You see they never welcomed the idea of our marriage and afterwards they couldn’t accept his apparent devotion to me. He always complained of it. I think it will break his heart to know that I have complained of him to them.’ She remarked.

‘So what if it broke his heart, we are talking about a man already breaking yours. However, if you feel this way, tell me who else you can invite to mediate along with your relations?’ I demanded.

‘His very close friend Habibu, then from my side I can invite my uncle Kawu Usman.’ She replied.

‘Masha Allah, that’s settled then. Please call them and fix an appointment. When they come invite him along and frankly tell them your predicament. I’m sure they will be able to find out what is behind your problem insha Allah.’ I said rising up.

‘ Thanks very much Hajiya Bint. I had almost lost hope but now you’ve made me feel I should give it another try.  May Allah reward you abundantly, amin.’ She said rising to hug me.

‘You are welcome, and I wish you luck with it. But if there’s anything else I can do, please let me know. ‘ I urged.

‘I will insha Allah. I will. Thanks again.’ Fureira replied seeing me to the car.