Shawa. The Night Woman

Shawa, The Night Woman II
The following story is a continuation of Shawa the Night Woman:
http://www.jamshid-ibrahim.net/90.0.html

I believe I must have been not older than ten when Shawa was caught again but this time not by my mother. Our neighbors opposite somehow managed to get her. From our window facing the neighbors I saw a beautiful taciturn woman completely dressed in black washing clothes with her hands or washing children who had scabies in a basin. The children suffered and kept crying while Shawa was washing them quietly. Particularly the boys’ heads seemed unwashable as they hadn’t been washed for years. There was no difference between them and homeless children. They used to do their number one and two under what looked like a long mud dark bridge which always smelt musty. The earth closet in their homes didn’t look better.

Shawa was given all sorts of cleaning jobs in the house once she was caught. People knew well that the woman in black working now as a slave was nobody else but Shawa. Everybody kept dumb about her as if commanded by some higher power or for an unknown deep fear. But at least new mothers and expectant mothers stopped worrying about their babies.

I loved the tranquility of nights even as a child. Maybe that’s why I of all was fascinated and attracted by Shawa’s beautiful quiet and peaceful nightly looks. I remember her gentle face very well. True, I was small but I think nobody could forget her breathing which was unique. This was the only noise coming from her. Her breathing was rhythmic but could be overheard; it was regular but frightening and pounding like heart beats. I watched her from places I thought she couldn’t see me but I think Shawa was always aware of my presence. After all she had been like a mother to me for at least a year after my mother caught her.

People were repeatedly warned against helping Shawa to escape. They said she would come to you as helplessly as a patient and ask you to remove the needle. Shawa couldn’t find help because everybody was afraid of her. The moment she raised her face, her glittery eyes could dazzle your eyes. When Shawa saw me watching her again and again and one day when nobody was around she came straight to me and asked: Do you remember me Son? I am Shawa, your second Mum. You are the only one who could help me. I didn’t know how but I felt important. Shawa then added: if you help me again as you did before I will do whatever you want. I remember saying something like: I loved you so much but why did you want to kill me? Shawa raised her eyes and said comfortingly: Son I didn’t want to kill you. I wanted to take you home but your mother was able to get me just before I could….

I walked closer and heard Shawa’s breathing. She took me in her arms, hugged me and kissed me on my head. Her breathing soon lulled me to sleep. But Shawa didn’t let me. In a sleepy quiet gentle voice she said: Son do you see this needle? It hurts me a lot and I cannot remove it because my eyes are no more good. This was nothing new to me. My mother often used to ask me to thread a needle for her although like Shawa my mother was still young not really in need of glasses. But maybe this is because my mother did a lot of needlework. She was always busy making something or doing something up. Shawa’s dark clothes were of some fine material and very thin. You could only see her face and sometimes her fringe. I raised my hand to touch her head but that startled her and she immediately withdrew and laid my hand down. Her hand was so soft as if no bones were inside.

I removed the needle and Shawa disappeared without a word. She left me alone and I couldn’t come to terms with her sudden disappearance or better her dissolving out of the blue. On top of that I felt guilty and thought of all the mothers that might lose their babies now just because of me. From that time on and as if Shawa moved to some other part of the world no mother lost her baby again. I thought Shawa repaid me this way.

Dr. Jamshid Ibrahim
Bremen, 22 april 2011
Jamshid-ibrahim.net

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