𝓜𝔂 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂, 𝓶𝔂 𝔀𝓲𝓯𝓮

39# PHOENIX

THE KHALIL RESIDENCE,
ASOKORO.
FEBRUARY, 2022.

Thrill.

It was all Jamilah felt, an overwhelming amount of it.

Coming in, seeing the decor, seeing the multitude of people, it was nerve-wracking, but it also felt like some kind of homecoming.

And then the lights came on, and all eyes in the room were suddenly trained on her.

Slowly, her smile thinned and her gaze drifted from Jamil to them.

She didn't know if it was because of his overwhelming presence beside her, but she didn't feel her nerves anymore.

Slowly, she urged him forward.

The room had been arranged in such a way that the females' seats were arranged on on end of the aisle and the mens' on the other, a surely unpleasant scenario for all those involved.

However, Yahya didn't care. Events like those were the genesis of several affairs; it was the perfect time for the younger women to attract sugar daddies, and the old crones never could resist.

It baffled Yahya really, how men his age and older would hound younger, empty-brained women with lashes the length of their fingers.

If there was anything he could do, it would be to prevent such nonsense from happening, at least in his own home.

Drifting away from his thoughts back to reality, he couldn't help but stare at his son and daughter-in-law as they made their way past the rows of people seated, towards him.

He watched, pleased, as every eye followed their movements.

He made his way downward to them, taking Jamilah's arm in his as Jamil found his seat at the front row.

There were at least, a hundred people in attendance; a fairly large audience.

His eyes met Jamilah's, and he could see the nervousness under her facade of collectedness.

Her arms tremoured in his as they walked up the stairs, but her expression remained flawless.

Yahya had never felt so much pride for her as he felt in that moment.

"Ya bint, you'll be fine", he whispered so only she could hear and when they were finally on the podium, and he was about to let go of her hands, she held onto him tighter.

They were faced away from the crowd now, and Jamilah finally let her expression of calm fall.

"Baba", she choked out, almost painfully, causing Yahya's heart to drop. "I'm scared".

Yahya looked at her, smiled, and placed a palm on her cheek.

No words were said, but she seemed to understand his message.

'You have to do this, Jamilah'.

The woman nodded slowly, squeezing her paper more tightly as Yahya untangled his hands from hers and handed her the microphone.

Jamilah inhaled, exhaled and inhaled again, and then turned to face the crowd.

Suddenly, without the presence of Jamil or Yahya, she felt stripped......naked even.

She saw the eyes that stared back at her. Eyes that taunted her, eyes that dared her to make a mistake.

Under her breath, she muttered the prayer Jamil had taught her.

"G-good evening", She said, immediately hating herself for stumbling over her first words.

The eyes grew increasingly doubtful.