Plates were being cranked together, metal cutleries made sounds and the blasting music from the speaker made deafening noise. It's a week after the birth of the baby girl, people troop in and out of the compound as they prepare for the dedication of the new child. Fatima was on a call smiling and chatting away happily, the person on the other end must have promised her a lot of money. "Mummy, be fast, the Pastor would soon be here" Fatima said as she entered her mother's room, "then you should help me" said her mother as she was trying to apply her makeup. Both of them were busy preparing for the child dedication when they heard a familiar voice shouting. "Isn't that mama? Why is she so loud" Fatima inquired while applying gloss on her lips.
"The pastor is here and the mother of the child is not even ready, is she preparing for her wedding ceremony?" Mama yelled. Mr Akini walked over to his mother, trying to calm her down but she remained adamant saying it's really disrespectful to keep a man of God waiting. "Good afternoon mama, how are you doing ma" Binta smiled as she came out of the house, "what's so funny?, is this the dress you spent eternity wearing?" Mama hissed looking at her scornfully "pls let's go, the pastor is waiting" she said to Jamil.
Everyone clapped happily as the pastor mentioned the names of the baby, the sweet baby has a lot of names but Jamila stuck. The naming ceremony was the biggest in the neighborhood that year, everyone ate, drank and enjoyed the moment. They really loved the occasion. As the guests slowly drifted away and the music softened into laughter, Binta sat alone with Jamila asleep in her arms. The world had not suddenly become kinder, and Mama had not softened her heart—but in that moment, none of it mattered. Jamila breathed softly, unaware of whispers and expectations, and Binta smiled. Whatever the world would demand of her daughter, she would meet it with love. That, Binta decided, was enough.
Mama watched from a distance as Binta cradled the child, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Enjoy today," she muttered under her breath, unheard by the laughter around her. Binta tightened her hold on Jamila, a strange unease settling in her chest. The naming had been done—but some battles, she knew, had only just begun.