It is the worst of all things. But mine was even worse than any other childbirth, and I’m not just saying that in the way of all first-time mothers. It was worse. You must remember. They ripped you out from inside me, and your first few hours were spent shaking softly like an autumn leaf about to fall.
The cracking came first. There was no stretching and no waves getting stormier and stormier, only sudden cracking and breaking and splitting. I had seen babies being born to aunties and cousins, of course, back home where women gathered around and held each other, and sang and cried and laughed. Those women helped the labouring woman stretch out, pull and swell and become wider, wide enough to be a doorway for a baby into this world. My body did not stretch at Lewisham Hospital. Instead, I smashed. Every crack of metal brought you closer and every crack took me further. Both of us could not survive, I thought. For a few seconds after you left my body, we remained one person.
And that, Elijah, is the centre of everything.
And then we were separate. We did not scream, but the world screamed around us.
Akpan sang and whispered and prayed next to me – us – and did his best, but even the best of men is not a woman in that situation. I would have given anything for my mummy, or a sister or two. ‘You are beautiful,’ said Akpan as I sweated and vomited and shit and pissed, everything but you coming from inside me. But he meant it, Elijah. His eyes were filled with happy tears the entire time. He rubbed my back and my feet and my stomach and he held my hand and I squeezed his hand until I heard crunching, yet he never once complained.
Finally there was an emptying. Hot stickiness. I shook – shakes on top of shakes. I had no centre; my centre was you, and you were gone.
‘Congratulations!’ A voice flew into my popped brain. ‘You have a son.’
A son, I thought. Akpan kissed me on the mouth and kissed you on your mouth and his face was bloody but he didn’t care at all. I’d never seen such a happy man.
You looked straight at me and frowned. Your nose was pressed flat against you, and your head coned upwards, lips soft and pink. I picked my shaking hand up and touched your cheek with my thumb. I was the thumb and I was the cheek. You cried suddenly and I cried with you.
Gradually your face took shape, your little eyes closed, your body uncurled, and when I pressed my thumb to your cheek, all I felt was my thumb. You were real and alive, and I had made you, created you. All other things in my life were nothing. Those few moments when I held you were the happiest minutes of my life, and the pain was worth it.
I was in the place where women are kings.
It’s true, Elijah. There are three places where women are kings. One is in that moment after birth, when generations of women stir up inside a woman’s body and the whole world shakes and nature reminds us who is king. The second place is Nigeria, where – you remember – a woman, a prostitute even, was so respected she was made king. And in Heaven women must be kings, for in Heaven all the wrongs of earth are righted. Nigeria, and Childbirth, and Heaven: these are the places where anything is possible for women.
Akpan leant towards me – us. ‘Look what we have done,’ he said. ‘God is truly blessing us.’
In the moments after you were born, the other mothers held their new babies to their breast and lay back and closed their eyes, but not me. I lifted you up right in front of my eyes to see Nigeria looking back at me. You were born in Lewisham, England, but your face belonged in Nigeria. I prayed so hard that night, Elijah, to thank God for such a gift as you. I remember Akpan and I walking you over to the window and showing you the night filled with Nigerian stars and the fullest moon I’d ever seen, swelling in the sky like a heart in love. ‘My little son, Elijah,’ whispered Akpan. ‘Look, now. Even the moon loves you.’
THIRTEEN
‘How many dogs are there?’ Elijah asked.
‘Hundreds!’ Nikki couldn’t wait to see his face; sometimes she found him in the living room, looking at photos of her with the dogs. ‘But remember what I told you. We can’t take any home, OK? Maybe in a few years’ time.’
It was Sunday morning and raining, but that wasn’t going to spoil her mood. She was finally going in to Battersea for a ‘keeping in touch’ day, and to show Elijah around. Also, she was planning to speak to her line manager about her return-to-work date. Elijah was doing so well, there was really no reason to delay once he started school. The summer holidays were whizzing by and she knew September would come quickly. They walked hand in hand towards the entrance, past the long, high wall. A couple passed them excitedly – obviously talking about a dog they’d seen. The woman linked her arm with the man. They looked at each other. ‘He’s adorable,’ the woman said.
Elijah looked at Nikki. ‘Have they got a dog?’
She nodded. ‘I think so.’ They came to the heavy gate and Pete, a thickset security guard, who sometimes fostered the dogs if they were going kennel-crazy, opened the door. He looked at Elijah with one eyebrow raised.
‘Hi Pete,’ said Nikki, smiling. ‘We’ve come to visit. This is the famous Elijah.’
Pete smiled back, winked at Nikki. ‘Hello there,’ he said.
‘Can we see the dogs?’ asked Elijah, excitement making his voice squeak.
Pete laughed and opened the door. ‘Go on. Have fun,’ he said.
Elijah almost ran. There were two large dog-statues outside the reception doors, and a few people were walking dogs in front of them. Nikki picked up Elijah’s hand and led him towards reception where she was greeted with hugs and kisses from all her colleagues who came out to see Elijah, patting his head, making a fuss of him. He didn’t seem to mind. How far they had come, Nikki thought, in a matter of weeks.
‘Shall we go see the dogs, then?’ Nikki asked.
‘Yes, please!’ Elijah shouted and her colleagues laughed. They knew how long she’d waited for Elijah. And what she’d been through.
She took Elijah’s hand and led him through the door and up the ramp towards the dogs. ‘You have to be quiet,’ she said, ‘and try not to stare too much. Dogs hate people staring at them.’
The first dog, a husky, came to the front of its kennel and raised a paw. ‘Wow! It looks like a wolf.’
‘I know. We’re getting more and more of these dogs at Battersea. We’re not sure why,’ said Nikki.
‘Why is the cage so small?’
‘Well, it’s not a cage,’ said Nikki, ‘more of a temporary kennel. And the dogs can go in and out of the back – look. Also, they get one hour out of their kennel every day. And they love their walks. Look at this,’ Nikki pointed to the small material pouch hanging on the outside of the kennel. ‘It’s lavender and other herbs to calm the dogs down.’
‘But why do they need calming down?’
Elijah had his face pressed towards the cage bars. He was looking straight at the dog’s eyes and his breathing was getting quicker. Nikki started to feel anxious. What if the dogs triggered some sort of memory in Elijah? Of course, there were parallels. Where were their owners? Where was Elijah’s mum? She scanned the viewing area, the notes above each cage, the one in front of them:
Edith is a lovely, kind lady approaching her later years. She needs a special family who are used to the breed and are at home for most of the time. Edith will make a lovely pet to a family with older children, and no other pets.
Nikki pulled Elijah towards her. ‘I think we should go to the office. Every single day there is a dog that gets to be the office dog. I bet if we ask really nicely we could take the office dog for a quick walk.’
‘Yes, please!’
They walked quickly out of the viewing area and didn’t look back. Nikki put her arm around Elijah’s shoulder.
*
That afternoon, all Elijah could talk about was the dogs: how the dog they’d taken for a walk was shaped like a sausage and barked at the birds in the park. When Elijah was out of the room, Nikki told Obi how the visit had nearly triggered something in Elijah, the way he’d started getting anxious
about the dogs waiting to be rehomed.
‘He’s going to have loads of triggers,’ Obi said. ‘But look how well you dealt with it.’ He leant towards her and kissed her mouth.
*
But that night a scream filled the house and brought them both running to Elijah’s bedroom. He was covered in sweat, every muscle stiff and tense, his face twisted into a much older face. He was crying and screaming and had red scratches all over his arms.
‘Elijah, what is it? Elijah?’ Nikki ran towards him and put her hand on to his boiling-hot head. She stared at the scratches on his skin. ‘Shall we phone an ambulance?’ She looked at Obi but he was motionless, standing in the doorway, his mouth half open.
Nikki jumped on to the bed and held Elijah close, his body rigid against hers, his eyes far away. ‘Shhhh.’ She rocked him back and forth. But Elijah reached out suddenly and scratched a raw line just below her eye.
She pulled backwards. ‘Elijah! Elijah!’ She touched her face. It stopped hurting almost immediately.
Elijah curled in a ball on the bed. He was sobbing.
‘We should phone for advice, and not crowd him. Remove anything that could be harmful,’ said Obi as he reached for the bedside lamp and moved it away.
Nikki dropped back on to the bed next to Elijah.
‘No,’ said Obi. ‘We mustn’t crowd him.’
But she curled her body around Elijah.
Obi knelt beside the bed. ‘Check his arms,’ he whispered. ‘Does he need some antiseptic or plasters?’
Nikki lifted her head from Elijah’s. ‘He’s not bleeding,’ she said. ‘They’re just shallow scratches.’ She rested against him again. ‘You’re OK, Elijah.’
Elijah’s sobbing quietened down until the only noise was his breathing.
Obi knelt beside the bed. ‘Elijah, do you want to come and sleep in our room?’
‘I don’t think he can hear you,’ she said. ‘You go back to bed and I’ll stay here. You’ve got court first thing.’
Obi coughed. ‘We should ask for advice.’
‘Who’re we going to call at this time? It’s OK,’ said Nikki. ‘Honestly. He was just having a nightmare.’
‘OK, if you’re sure.’ Obi looked at Elijah for a long time. His eyes were closed tight and his breathing was regular. Obi kissed Nikki before switching the light off and leaving the room.
Nikki felt her own heart thumping against Elijah’s back. Ricardo had warned them about rages and that Elijah might lash out, but, since she’d first seen his scars, Elijah had been nothing but calm and loving. She felt the skin underneath her eye. What had happened to her son? She held him close.
Eventually Elijah turned around and faced her. She could see his wide-open eyes in the almost darkness. He looked terrified. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered.
‘If we lie close enough,’ she said, ‘you’ll be able to share my dreams and I never have nightmares, only good dreams.’
Nikki couldn’t see Elijah’s smile, but she felt it.
*
‘Thank you for seeing us at short notice,’ Nikki said to Chioma. She liked her already. She had one of those faces that was expressive and open, and, Nikki imagined, truthful. After she’d spoken to Ricardo and told him about the incident, he reassured her it was only to be expected, and that Elijah was acting out his inner anxieties. Nightmares and tantrums were fairly normal in the early days of placement. But he had told her to get in touch with Chioma as soon as possible and Nikki was glad that he had. She’d only ever seen Chioma through the window before, when dropping Elijah off. Elijah had insisted he didn’t need her to come in with him. He didn’t want her to come in with him.
‘Thanks to you all for coming.’
Elijah looked up at Chioma. Nikki could tell from his body language that he was relaxed around Chioma. His shoulders were relaxed and he was slouching slightly. On the way there in the car, Elijah had been tense. He’d asked Nikki to sit in the back with him and held her hand for the entire journey. Obi, on the other hand, had his shoulders raised up to his ears. He was flicking a pen on, off, on, off.
He had woken up early with a headache and gone rummaging around in the bathroom for a painkiller. ‘But is play therapy enough?’ he’d asked. ‘We still don’t know what he’s dealing with and, with outbursts like this, maybe he needs a more clinical approach.’ He went thudding down the stairs and she heard him banging the cupboards open and shut. She yawned and sat up as he came back into the bedroom again. ‘Maybe it’s time for another psychiatric assessment. He could even benefit from drug therapy.’ He disappeared back into the bathroom and there was a crash as the toothbrush holder fell into the bath and Obi swore. ‘Do we not have any aspirin in this house? Really?’ The bathroom cabinet slammed shut and Obi stood in the doorway. ‘Aspirin?’
Nikki shrugged.
‘I can live with this headache, but what about you?’
‘Come on, Obi,’ she said.
‘I’m serious! Really? There’s no aspirin?’
Aside from making her lose babies, Nikki’s condition made her susceptible to deep-vein thrombosis, among other nasty conditions, which needed to be kept in check with aspirin. ‘There’ve been other things on my mind,’ she’d said, frowning at him.
He frowned back and they stared at each other for a moment. But then he’d apologised and told Nikki about a new case he’d been dealing with: a woman from the Democratic Republic of Congo who, along with her sisters, had been brutally attacked and raped by men and their guns. One sister had bled to death following the attack. ‘The other had to have reconstructive surgery,’ Obi told her.
Nikki blinked. So that’s what he’d been worrying about. She sighed. ‘What a world we live in. What a world you live in.’ The horror of it made her shudder. ‘How do you do it? How do you come home from that?’
He shrugged. ‘I always do my best and, if there’s nothing more I can do, I move on to the next case. I have to. There’s always another case.’
Nikki had curled up against him.
*
‘Right, let’s get started,’ said Chioma. ‘Don’t look so nervous, Dad; Elijah will tell you, there’s nothing to be nervous of here.’ She smiled.
Elijah nodded and Obi laughed. ‘I’m not nervous,’ he said. ‘And we’ll do anything at all,’ he added, ‘to help our son.’ Son. He put the pen down and smiled.
Chioma nodded back at him. ‘OK, then. Well, today I thought we’d start with some music. Grab yourselves a drum and a stethoscope.’ She pointed to a selection of drums, and a large pile of black doctors’ stethoscopes.
Nikki and Obi looked at each other. ‘Er, OK,’ said Nikki, picking up both.
Elijah jumped up. ‘I love this game!’ he said. ‘These are Nigerian drums.’
Nikki laughed. They all sat in a semicircle, with Chioma opposite. ‘OK, now, Elijah, whenever we’ve done this before, you’ve listened to your own heartbeat, but this time I’d like you to drum to Mum or Dad’s heartbeat.’
Elijah looked at Nikki, then Obi. ‘Who should I choose?’ he asked.
‘Whoever you like. You can have a turn with the other afterwards.’
Elijah picked up his stethoscope and popped the earpieces into his ears. He stretched out and lifted Nikki’s T-shirt, then moved the stethoscope underneath. His fingers were warm. With one hand he held it in place and with the other he began tapping on the drum. The sound was loud and steady and strong. Elijah began rocking his body in time to the beat. Then Nikki rocked with him.
They both started laughing. Obi took his stethoscope and put it on to Elijah’s back, then began drumming too. The sound was quicker and lighter and matched the other drum perfectly. The two drums together sounded exactly like a heart beating. Nikki closed her eyes. She listened to her husband and son, their drumming, her heartbeat. When Chioma told them to stop, Elijah pulled the stethoscope out from underneath Nikki’s T-shirt, but he didn’t move away. Nikki breathed in the smell of Elijah’s skin.
‘That was lovely, Elijah. What about Dad now?’ said Chioma.
Elijah reached his stethoscope up underneath Obi’s shirt. He began tapping a beat. Obi joined in again, drumming on both his and Elijah’s drum, then Chioma grabbed a drum and began too. The room was filled with sound.
When they finished, Obi was breathless.
‘Drumming to heartbeats,’ Nikki said to Obi.
‘I read a piece of research in the Lancet about the therapeutic effects of music. It was in last month’s.’ He looked at Chioma.
‘Excellent,’ said Chioma. ‘It’s extremely therapeutic. And, more than that, it’s great fun. What shall we play now? I think you should choose, Elijah.’
‘Mums and dads.’ He beamed and looked at Nikki. ‘Let’s play mums and dads.’
‘Good idea. Another of my favourite games. Who will everyone be?’
‘You be the dog,’ said Elijah, pointing at Chioma, who immediately said, ‘Woof!’
‘And you be the dad –’ pointing to Obi, who smiled and winked – ‘and you be the mum,’ he said, looking up at Nikki.
‘What will you be, Elijah?’
‘Shall I be the baby?’
Nikki glanced at Chioma. ‘Very good idea,’ she said.
They began to play the game. Elijah pretended to cry and Nikki stroked his head, and Obi went out of the room and came back in. ‘I’ve had a terrible day at work,’ he said. ‘Where’s my dinner?’ He laughed.
‘Woof! Woof!’ said Chioma. She was crawling on all fours and pretending to wag an imaginary tail. Nikki imagined it must hurt her knees, crawling around on the floor, but if it did she didn’t seem to mind.
‘Mama,’ said Elijah holding his arms out to Nikki. Nikki pulled him into her arms and stroked his head. Obi walked towards them and placed his hand over Nikki’s, and Chioma smiled.
*
Dinner was salmon baked in tinfoil with sesame oil and soy sauce, spring onions, chilli, garlic and ginger. Nikki had set aside two small portions of salmon and added only honey to those before baking all the fish in the oven, but when Elijah saw Obi’s fish, he licked his lips. ‘Can I have one like that?’ He looked at his honey salmon and then back at Obi’s plate. He was completely normal, as if the other night had never happened. If Nikki hadn’t been so tired, she’d have thought it was all a dream. The kitchen was alive with spicy, sweet smells and the sound of the family talking over one another. Nikki looked at them all for a few minutes, gathered around the wooden table: Elijah, Obi, Chanel, Jasmin and Obi’s Daddy. It was as if they had always been there together. Elijah was laughing at jokes and whispering with Jasmin, Daddy was holding court and even Chanel seemed to be on her best behaviour. It was light outside and the sun was still shining, but Nikki had lit candles anyway and the scene looked cosy and warm. Obi caught her eye from across the other side of the table and smiled. She’d been a bit angry with him the other night, for standing back and talking rather than simply holding Elijah, and then being more upset about work than his own son, but with Chioma he’d been perfect. She heard again the beating of the drums. She smiled back.
Where Women are Kings Page 11