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I am Jamila. A doll with painted eyes that never close. I watch and listen without feeling.
One quiet afternoon, Eloisa came to the nursery alone. She looked tired. Her steps were slower now because of her heavy belly. She picked me up from the crib and sat on the rocking chair.
Alam mo, minsan iniisip ko kung deserving ba ako maging nanay. May mga bagay pa rin akong hindi naayos sa sarili ko. Natatakot ako na baka maipasa ko ‘yun kay Bernadette.
Her voice cracked. Water slowly fell from her eyes onto my dress. She did not wipe them away.
Noong bata ako, ikaw yung naging sandigan ko. Hindi ka nagsasalita pero ramdam ko na hindi ako nag-iisa. Ngayon, gusto ko rin na ganun ka kay Bernadette.
She rocked the chair gently. Outside, the sun was slowly setting, painting the nursery walls orange and gold.
She continued talking for a long time — about her own mother, about the things she wanted to do differently, about her love for her husband, and about the dreams she had for her daughter. Sometimes she laughed softly. Sometimes more water came from her eyes.
Promise ko sa’yo, Jamila. Hindi ko hahayaan na maramdaman ni Bernadette yung pagiging lonely na naramdaman ko dati. Tuturuan ko siyang maging malakas pero may soft heart pa rin.
She kissed my forehead. I felt the light pressure of her lips but nothing else. Why humans press their lips on objects and people is still one of the things I cannot understand.
Before she left the room, she placed me back in the crib but positioned me sitting up, facing the door — as if waiting for Bernadette’s arrival.
Hintayin mo kami, Jamila. Malapit na. → story continues in Chapter 5 Live on August 21!
Eloisa spoke for a long time today. She told me many things about fear, love, and the future. Water kept falling from her eyes. She kissed my head. Her body was heavy with child. I only observed. Yet she keeps returning to me as if I give her something humans need. I continue watching. — Jamila
