The Perfect Accident: Chapter One

The first time I went to the police station because of Amir, I was still wearing the wedding ring he had given me.I had been sitting there for almost an hour, answering questions about the accident while trying not to think too much about the last conversation we had before he left Lagos. The officer sitting across from me looked tired. He had been writing for a while, occasionally looking up at me.“When was the last time you spoke to your husband?”“About seven.”“Where was he?”“Lagos.”“And he was driving back to Abuja?”“Yes.”He wrote something down. “Did he tell you there was anything wrong with the car?”“No.”“Did you have any disagreement before he left?”I hesitated. “Yes.”“What was it about?”I looked down at my hands. “He cheated on me.”The officer stopped writing. “With another woman?”“Yes.”He asked me a few more questions about her and about the argument we had before Amir left. I told him the truth. Amir had hit me once after I found out about Mariam. I never reported it. I didn't want my family knowing what was happening in my marriage, and I didn't want his family involved either.The officer asked why I stayed.I didn't know how to answer that properly. How was I supposed to explain that I still loved my husband even after he had hurt me? That I had spent two years building a life with him? That there were still good memories sitting beside the bad ones?“I thought things would get better,” I finally said.He nodded and went back to writing.I rubbed my thumb over the wedding ring.It felt strange on my finger that day.A few hours earlier, I had been sitting in my house waiting for my husband to come back. Now he was unconscious in a hospital in Abuja, and I was sitting in a police station explaining our marriage to an officer who didn't know either of us.His mother had called me almost immediately after she heard about the accident.“Ke nan?” she asked, her voice shaking. “Ina Amir?”“Mama, he's in the hospital.”There was silence.“Me ya faru?”“He had an accident.”“Accident? A’uzubillahi… A’uzubillahi.” She started praying quietly. “Allah ya taimake shi. Allah ya sa ya tashi lafiya.”She asked me which hospital he had been taken to, and I told her.“Ina zuwa yanzu,” she said.“Mama, please be careful.”“Eh, to. Just stay there.”I remember sitting on the edge of my bed after that call, staring at the floor. I didn't cry. I think I was still in shock. Maybe I was angry. Maybe I just couldn't decide what I was supposed to feel.Three weeks before that night, Amir and I were still living like a normal married couple.At least, I thought we were.Amir had always been busy with his businesses, so I never really questioned how much he used his phone. He received calls at odd hours, replied to messages while eating and sometimes went into another room to handle work. It was normal.Then he started becoming protective of it.If he went upstairs, the phone went with him. If he went to the bathroom, it went with him. At night, he kept it beside his hand or under his pillow.I noticed, but I didn't immediately think he was cheating.One evening, we were sitting in the living room when his phone buzzed on the table. He reached for it quickly.“Who is that?” I asked.“Nothing.”I laughed. “Nothing sent you a message?”He smiled. “Wallahi, Nimmat, you ask too many questions.”“I'm just asking.”“It's work.”“Okay.”I left it.I didn't want to become the kind of wife who checked her husband's phone every five minutes. I trusted him, and for a long time, I thought that was enough.The first time I actually became suspicious was a Saturday afternoon. His mother was visiting, and she was sitting with me in the living room while I helped her arrange the food she had brought from home. Amir had stepped outside to take a call.Mama looked at me and said, “Nimmat, when are you people planning to give me a grandchild?”I laughed. “Mama, please.”“What please? It has been almost two years now.”“Allah zai kawo.”“Amin,” she said. “But you always tell me Allah zai kawo. Allah zai kawo, but you people should also do your own part.”“Mama!” I started laughing.“Am I lying?”Amir came back inside and looked between us. “What happened?”“Your wife is laughing at me.”He smiled. “What did she tell you?”“I asked her when she will give me my grandchild.”“Ah, Mama, bari mana.”“Bari me? You are the one I am talking to.”I looked at him. “See your mother.”He laughed. “Don't mind her.”Mama shook her head. “You two think I am joking. Wallahi, I am serious ooh” “Insha Allah, Mama,” Amir said.“Ai, that is what you have been saying.”We laughed and changed the subject.It was an ordinary afternoon. Nothing about it felt like something I would remember later.But I did.I remembered it because sometimes the moments you think are ordinary are the ones you wish you could go back to.After that, I started noticing more things about Amir.His phone rang one evening while we were eating. He looked at the screen and declined the call.“Why didn't you answer?”“It's work.”A few minutes later, it rang again. This time he picked it up and walked outside.I watched him through the window. He stayed near the gate for almost ten minutes before coming back.“Everything okay?” I asked.“Yes.”“You're sure?”He looked at me. “Why are you asking like this?”“I'm just asking.”He sighed. “Nimmat, nothing is wrong.”I nodded and continued eating.I told myself not to think about it. Maybe it really was work. Maybe I was just noticing things because I had started paying more attention.Then, one afternoon, Amir went to take a shower and left his phone charging beside me.I was watching television when the screen lit up.I wasn't trying to read his message, but the notification was right there.Amir, you promised you would call me when you got home.I looked at the bathroom door.The shower was still running.Another message came in.Please don't do this to me again.I picked up the phone.I knew I shouldn't.But I couldn't put it back down.His phone wasn't locked.I opened the message.Her name was Mariam.There were months of conversations between them.I kept scrolling, and with every message, the feeling in my stomach got worse. They talked about meeting in Lagos. She complained when he didn't call. He told her when he would be travelling. She knew where he was staying and when he would be coming back.Then I saw the pictures.There were pictures of Amir and Mariam together.One of them was at a hotel in Lagos.I knew that hotel.Amir had told me he was there for a business meeting.I stared at the picture for a long time.I didn't cry. I didn't even know what to do with myself. I just sat there with his phone in my hand, trying to understand how someone could lie to you so normally and still come home and eat dinner with you like nothing had happened.Then I heard the bathroom door open.Amir walked into the living room, drying his hair with a towel. He looked at me, then at the phone in my hand.“Nimmat.”I looked at him.“Who is Mariam?”He didn't answer.“Amir, who is she?”He walked towards me. “Give me my phone.”“No.”“Nimmat.”“Answer me first.”He stopped.For a few seconds, neither of us said anything.I looked at him again. “Who is Mariam?”He looked towards the door.“Please, lower your voice.”I stared at him. “Why? Are you afraid somebody will hear me?”He didn't answer.“Who is she, Amir?”He looked at the phone in my hand, then back at me.“Nimmat, give me the phone.”“No. Tell me who she is.”He was quiet for a few seconds.Then he said, “She's someone I know.”I looked at him and laughed because even he knew that wasn't an answer.“Someone you know?”“Yes.”“Then why does she talk to you like that?”He said nothing.I looked back at the messages, then at him.“Amir, are you cheating on me?”

The Perfect Accident

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