Transferred aggression

‘Whoever it is sounds pretty desperate.’ I said rising from my seat to answer the door, from where the loud incessant knocks seemed to be coming. The girl who rushed through the door after I opened it wasn’t immediately recognisable to me. It was when she turned back to hug my legs crying ‘Save me […]

‘Whoever it is sounds pretty desperate.’ I said rising from my seat to answer the door, from where the loud incessant knocks seemed to be coming. The girl who rushed through the door after I opened it wasn’t immediately recognisable to me. It was when she turned back to hug my legs crying ‘Save me Aunty, please save me’ that I realised who she was.

 

‘Save you from what, what is happening Dije?’ I asked, trying to raise her face up and find out what scared her.

‘It’s Mummy Aunty, she said she’s going to kill me. She was beating me so hard I had to run here to you.’ Dije explained, amidst heart-wrenching sobs.

‘But why is Mummy beating you, what did you do?’ I asked again, walking her down to the settee to sit.

‘She said I was the one who broke the sugar container. I told her it wasn’t me but she wouldn’t listen. She said I was always breaking things and that she had to teach me a lesson.’ The ten-year- old narrated.

‘But why are you not in school, I think all your cousins are in school now aren’t they?’ I asked, not knowing what else to say.

‘She said there wasn’t enough money to pay my school fees as well as those of her children. So now I help the cook with cooking and keeping the house clean. Just now after they’d left for school she came into the kitchen to see the broken sugar jar. The cook said she didn’t know who did it. I was in our room trying to fix it when I heard her screaming my name. I quickly rushed down the stairs. Just then she gave me a dirty slap and said I was the one responsible. When I said I wasn’t she continued to beat me with her phone charger. I kept screaming and saying I didn’t do it but she wouldn’t stop. It was when she suddenly received a call on her phone that I ran out of the house to come here.’ She concluded with tears.

‘Ok, let’s go and see what we can do to convince her you didn’t do it. Then beg her to stop beating you like this even if she’s sure you committed the offence.’ I said, rising to my feet.

‘Please don’t take me back there Aunty, please save me and take me home to my mother. She never beats me the way Mummy does. I think Mummy will kill me if you take me back.’ She protested. Having completely forgotten that Tahir was in the room, I was surprised to suddenly hear him say.

‘I’m off to work. Wish you luck with this mediation business. I can see that it isn’t going to be an easy thing.’ And with that he picked his Babbar-riga and began to walk out.

‘Thank you hubby dearest, and have a nice day. ‘ I replied, handing him his Ipad.

‘Now Dije,’ I said turning to the sobbing youngster. ‘I have to take you back to Mummy. I can’t take you to your real mother because I don’t know where to find her. But let me serve you some of that breakfast on the table and then walk over to see Mummy, while you eat.’ I said.

‘Assalamu alaikum,’ I said stepping into the house across the street from ours.

‘Wa alaikumussalam, welcome Hajiya Bint. How are you? It’s a surprise to see you so early.’ My neighbour Delu said shaking my hand.

‘Yes, I wouldn’t have come in so early, if I didn’t have an early visitor to my house. Dije just came into my house crying. I asked her why, but she wasn’t making much sense. So I told her to wait while I came in here to find out what the problem was.’ I lied, so I can hear her own version of the story without putting her on the defensive.

‘So it was to your house that she went? Useless girl, I will teach her not to walk out on me just because I had to answer the phone while scolding her for doing something wrong.’ She answered fuming.

‘But what did she do? I mean she looked so scared when she came knocking, you would think she was being chased by a lion.’ I enquired gently.

‘She broke my sugar jar and that’s not the first thing she broke. She is always breaking things in this house. Is it because she thinks everything she sees here is bought by her uncle? Anyway today, I decided to put a stop to it.’ Delu explained.

‘I see, I was surprised to see that she was not in school. I mean with all the neighbourhood kids in school it was odd to see her at home.’ I observed.

‘That is her uncle’s fault, last term he said I had to help with half of the school fees because he didn’t have enough. I paid for two of our children while he paid for Dije and our first born. This term he said I had to pay all because the money he was expecting from office didn’t come. Can you believe I sacrificed all my savings to do so? At least I paid for our three children then said to him he can pay for his niece whenever he can. I was not the one who said he should go home and bring her when he knew he couldn’t afford to take care of her. He always claims he is broke. Because I also work he begrudges me my financial independence. Half the time he claims he is broke, I know it’s not true, otherwise, where does he get the money to eat out? Do you know that most of the time he doesn’t eat here? Then he regularly keeps late nights and won’t even explain why. Is this the kind of man I will remain sympathetic to? This time around I said no, pay for your own niece.’ She concluded.

‘I’m sorry Hajiya Delu and I really don’t mean to meddle but isn’t it possible that you are transferring all your anger to this girl while it’s really your husband you are angry with?’ I asked.

‘No, no Dije herself is a naughty girl, very difficult to live with.’ She replied.

‘Yes I know, but do you think you’d have gotten so worked up over a small jar of sugar, if you weren’t already angry over something else? Very often we find ourselves helpless in certain difficult situations; at times like this we tend to look for scapegoats on whom to turn all our anger and frustration because we can’t deal directly with our source of problems. Forgive my saying this but I think maybe you’ve found a perfect scapegoat in Dije, so you transfer all your anger and aggression to her because you are helpless.’ I observed.

‘Is it so, somehow you are actually beginning to make sense, Hajiya Bint.’ She remarked, thoughtfully.

‘I’m glad I am. So please sit and talk these problems over with your husband before you end up thoroughly frustrated. Even if you were to return Dije to her parents, you will still find yourself beating up your children the same way because basically the source of your anger is still not addressed. So try talking to him. If you do not succeed in getting him to change, then invite your elders and let them intervene. Whatever you do, please be merciful to little Dije. If you still can’t afford to pay her school fees, then the two of you should take her back to her parents. Fear God and do what is right.’ I advised.

‘Ok Hajiya Bint, Insha Allah, I will do all that you’ve said, let me follow you now and bring her home. Thanks a lot, you are a true neighbour.’ Delu answered rising up to walk home with me.