How To Hate You

chapter 1

"Well, I'm not really a fan either."

~•~•~•~

February,
2015

The sun shone through the branches, sending dabbles of rays onto her face and below her feet. Ikram has ever stood on the balcony led through by her bedroom's door twice. The first time was when she had peeked behind the black and gold patterned curtain and found a doorknob. Then she spent the next hour searching for a key that matched the cylinder.

She had forgotten to breathe for the next ten minutes as she watched the magic of nature unfurl before her, a blend of the setting sun and towering trees and chittering birds and fluttering butterflies.

"Breathtaking." She whispered at last. "My magical place."

Then she had spent one hour sweeping and dusting and mopping and removing webs and making sure it doesn't look like it was abandoned for two years. She dragged her small coffee table and a pink plastic chair she rarely sits on to face the sun.

Then she hopped to the kitchen, opened boxes upon boxes of wares until she found the ones with her mom's fanciest tea mugs. She filled it with water from the tap because her mom wasn't back from grocery shopping yet and placed it on a matching saucer. She picked up her drawing pad on the way and a few camisoles on the floor that needs washing. Ikram dumped them on the chair and slammed her black notepad on the table and her mom's antique saucer beside it. She lets the wind glide with her hands, leaving gentle strokes of her coal pencil on the white page.

Occasionally, she would stop and stare at the birds as they hid from each other behind the whooshing leaves of the trees. And she will sip her lukewarm water and get back to her book.

Ever since then, Ikram had never really stepped into the balcony again. The days had passed in a blur, a long chain of hours she had spent walking around the house in her pajamas, tapping at her phone, buying fabrics from strangely named websites, and running her hands through their delicate designs.

Then today she had woken up craving to see those butterflies dabbled in the sun, fluttering seamlessly up and beyond the trees. So she pushed the door wide and held onto the railings as the wind gently weaves into her cornrows. She breathes the minutes away, eyes travelling around with sheer fascination.

"There you are." Says her mother, stepping into her room. Ikram spared her a short glance and chucked a sheepish smile her way. "Mama, come see." She beckoned.

"Subhanallah, this is beautiful." Says her mom, standing close to the railings. "Yet you claimed to not like the house." She added scoldingly.

"I still don't. It lacks the most important aspect, my friends."

"You can always make new friends. Besides, you can visit them once in a while, or they can come visit you. In the meantime, go meet our neighbours, especially that white house over there, very nice people. I think they have a daughter your age, what was her name again? Safeeya? Something along the lines. I'm sure you'll get along."

Ikram sighed. "Sure."

"Which reminds me, I'm heading out! Remember my friend, Aunty Sadiya? I'm giving her a surprise visit, she doesn't know we've moved here, I can't wait to see her face!" Her mom let out an eager laugh, and Ikram smiled unconsciously. Her mother's laughs tend to be very contagious.

"So I need you to drop these orders at Farm Centre. Get some fresh air while at it!" Ikram had not noticed the plastic bags clutched in her hands.

"But Mama." She whined. "I don't know anywhere in Kano, what if I get lost?"