Mu na sallama tare da yi muku maraba zuwa wannan fage na mu na ‘Tsokaci Cikin Wannan Rayuwar Ta Mu’. Ko wane ranar Juma’a, ni, Maryam Aliko Mohammed, tare da sauran yan uwa na marubuta, za mu gutsuro maku kadan daga cikin al’amura da su ka shafi rayuwa a yau, mu na musanyar fahimtar mu da ku cikin kalmomi da ba su wuce dari biyar ba. Mun yi wannan kalubalen ne tare da abokiyar aiki ta, Fatima Hamza, wacce take fassara mani labarurruka ta, kuma ta ke kayatar da ni, tare da haska mun abin da ya shige mun duhu dangane da kalmomin Hausa. Mu na maraba da shawarwarin da za ku rika aiko mana a kullum. Mun gode.
Yallabai! na Maryam Aliko Mohammed
Wannan rayuwar waratayya ce a gare ka Yallabai. Abubuwan da muke tsammani daga gare ka masu tarin yawa ne, kusan ma a ce ba masu yiwuwa ba ne. Amma kuma ga shi ka ci gaba da rayuwarka cikin dauriya, har kana yi mana nunin cewa ba ka da matsala, kuma haka ka fi so rayuwarka ta kasance.
Kai ne “Maigida”, kai ne ka haye kan wani doki na isa, ka kebe kanka, ba mai iya fada maka gaskiya. Kuma wannan ji da kan ya hana ka riski gaskiyar lamurra. Jiji-da-kai ya kange ka daga rahamar mutane; daga son da mutane za su nuna maka; daga tausaya wa mutane, karshe dai ya kange ka daga jin dadin rayuwa gaba daya.
Kullum kai kadai kake cin abinci. Naman kaji ma sai ka zabi mai tsoka, kirji da cinyoyin, kana tsammanin su ne dadin, bayan kowa ya san cewa lagwadar na cikin taune kashin.
Ka iya kwaikwayon Ogan kuwa, har ya zama maka jiki, ba za ka iya dainawa ba.
Kana zaune a cikin kasaitaccen falonka kai kadai, kana sauraren raha da annashuwar iyalinka. Rumbun farin cikin da yake cikin rahar ya sa ka fito ka karaso inda suke, amma daga fitowarka, sai rahar iyalin naka ta yanke. Kowa sai ya nutsu, idanunsu duk a kanka suke, kamar yadda ka zuba musu taka hajar mujiyar, suna jiran jin batun da kake tafe da shi.
Kana jin tsananin kadaici, saboda kai ka tsubbace kanka, kai ne baren cikin su. Sai ka fara nade tabarmar kunyarka da hauka. Kana neman su saurare ka, sai hushi ya zama kamar kukan zaki. Nan da nan sai siffar “Maida” ta hallara, kana cika, kana batsewa, kumfa na fita daga bakinka. Sai ka fara barazana, wai kai Maigida! ” Ina abincina?” “Ka yi aikin makarantarka ne, da ka zauna kana ta wasa?” “Hayaniyarku ta yi yawa, kun hana ni jin dadin kallon wasan kwallo a talbijin”
Kana gani a fuskarsu, sun kasa boye bakin cikinsu, irin wanda bayyane a fuskarka, sai dai babu mai kallon ka balantana su lura. Matarka sai ta dago kanta, a cikin murya tattausa, ta ce masu, ” ku tafi dakinku”. Yaushe rabonka da ka hada ido da ita!
Sai suka yi ta maciji, suka wuce ka a bakin kofa, suna manne a jikin bango. Tabbas suna masu tsoran ka da kin kusanci da kai. Ita kuwa tana jira daga gefe, kai a kaskance, tana lazimin sakamakon da zai biyo baya; cin mutuncin da yake biyo irin wannan fadan. Ba ka bin bashin sa kuwa!
Amma kai kuwa ba abin da ka so ka yi kamar ka daga habar ta, ka kalli idanunta, ka ce mata, “na saurari raha da annashuwar da kuka yi ta sha, ni ma mabukacin irin wannan dumamar raha ne, dan kuwa rashin ta kan iya haifar da waratayya da faduwar karamci na, a matsayina na miji.”
Oga! By Maryam Aliko Mohammed
It is a lonely life for you Mr. Man, our expectations of you are unusually high, sometimes near impossible. But you carry on bravely convincing us that it is just how you want it to be.
You are Oga, and therefore have placed yourself in purgatory, it allows none to tell you the truth, and forbids you to ask for it; insulated from affection, love, pain and ultimately life.
You eat alone, with choice pieces of the chicken; the breast and the thighs, when everyone knows that the bony pieces are the enjoyment of the chicken.
You play the man role so well that you become the role, and you cannot find your way back or out.
You sit in your plush show piece parlor alone; listening to your wife and children, their joy is compelling and draws you out. When you walk into their space, the conversation and laughter ceases, they look at you suspiciously, expressions so like yours, arranged blank.
You feel the isolation acutely, you are the outsider. You avoid your shame by getting angry, and the silence you demanded upgraded anger to rage.
Then Oga takes over. ‘Where is my food?’ ‘Have you done your homework that you have time to play like this?’ ‘You are too loud, I am watching football.’
The blank expressions could not hide the hurt in their eyes, hurt yours reflect should they bother to look at your face for longer than a glance. Your wife raises her head and softly tells the children to go to their rooms. You can’t remember the last time she looked at you.
They slide past you at the door, bending in so far into the wall, you know they fear you and want to be as far away as possible from you. But she waits behind, head bowed, knowing and waiting for it; the dressing down that always follow these outbursts. You don’t disappoint.
But all you wanted to do is lift up her chin to look into her eyes and say to her, ‘I heard the joy and love you were sharing, I want to feel its warmth and let it breathe life into me for I am afraid that this loneliness will unman me.’