𝓜𝔂 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂, 𝓶𝔂 𝔀𝓲𝓯𝓮

7# CHOICE MADE

THE KHALIL RESIDENCE,
ASOKORO.
DECEMBER, 2020

Morning came earlier than Ayman wished it.

By the time the sun had decided to make an appearance, casting its orange and red hues as it proudly ascended to the sky, Ayman was already awake.

He was on his mat, having just prayed, lost in the same thoughts that had chased his sleep away the previous night.

He didn't know what the day would bring, and as much as he dreaded the knowledge that his mind had to be made up before dinner that night, he couldn't help but want to get it all over with.

While he paraded the room, Jamil has just come in from the mosque.

He wore a white, perfectly ironed thobe that emphasized his broad shoulder length and his tall frame.

His hair was damp, his short curls having a lustre to them.

Jamil Khalil was the picture of nobility, from his aura that could not be watered down, to the effortless grace he moved with.

His hands were in his pockets, gaze cast squarely as he ascended the flight of stairs to his room.

His room, which was a door away from his brother's doubled as his studio, and as such, was the biggest in the house.

He didn't stay there as much since he had his own house, but his dad had requested his presence. And by the looks of it, he would be there for a while.

When Jamil passed his brother's room, he saw him on the mat looking dishevelled, he was sure the man hadn't got much sleep.

Something flared within Jamil, his gaze becoming extremely severe as he watched his brother.

There was an inexplicable anger that rose in him, slowly but without doubt, steadily.

He lingered just outside the door for a good half-minute before he walked to his own.

The day for the Khalils seemed extremely slow.

Each person, after trying and failing to get their work for the day done with the usual efficiency, they resorted to praying the day would end quickly.

The obvious exception was Jamil, the man carried out his tasks as usual, undeterred by every other person's anxiety.

He was never one to fuss over what didn't need fussing over, he had decided what his answer to his father would be, and whatever would happen after that was something God had already ordained.

Why then should he lose his mind?.

As if the moon too was eager to hear the verdict that night, it continued to chase the sun's path, hurrying the latter to retire so it could bring the time of night.

The sun, annoyed by the incessant disturbance went to retire early, leaving the town of Asokoro once again, in the dark of night.

The moon was full that night, it's silvery face expectant as it shone in the direction of the Khalil mansion.

The members of the wind that had dispersed during the daytime converged, all fighting to filter through the spaces in the window, creening to hear what the family that had gathered at the table wanted to say.

A few of them succeeded, entering the room just in time for Gov. Yahya's arrival.

Everyone was sat at the dining table, each person with their meal placed right in front of them.

It was a family ritual for everyone to be present before they could start to eat. A beautiful tradition on most days, and an especially aggravating ones on days like the present one.