Somewhere in Africa

2. Guardian Angel

Aisha's POV

"Lisha! Lisha!." I heard Auntie Fatou calling my sister.

"Where the hell is that little brat? Lisha!"

I groaned. Turning off my laptop to get ready for college. It was Saturday morning, and I had to submit my dissertation before noon.

Kesha and I share the same room. We both have queen-sized beds at the far end of both walls. Our room is quite big enough for us to have our space. She has her wardrobe and nightstand with a lamp on top, a dresser, and a mirror. Kesha has tons of wigs, and some of them neatly settled on some hair dolls whilst the rest are under her bed, oh and her shoes, too, are primarily under her bed or behind Her window curtain. Yeah, my roomie is very untidy.

Then there's my side of the room. I have my bookcase, which is the first thing you will see once you open our room door. I'm not too much of a reader, but I'm always stuck with books anyways. There's my nightstand, chest, wardrobe, and armchair facing a mini-size desk where I was sitting 2 minutes ago, going through my laptop, my ladder shoe shelf close to my closet. Lastly, there's this beautiful wool carpet covering my territory that is dark grey.

Yeah, you heard that right. When you are sharing a room with someone like Kesha, you need to create a boundary for your sanity because that girl does not care at all.

I changed into a pair of jeans and a white blouse, and, wearing my leather sandals, I reached out for my handbag that contained everything I needed for the day. Spraying some perfumes on, I walked towards our door.

"Hey, Aisha." Auntie Fatou called out my name as I closed the door behind me. Her tone was harsher than usual. She wore a simple attire dress that covered her entire body except for her hands and face. With an oversized head wrapper that felt like a tainted box on her head. Typical African wife.

"Where's your sister," she asks irritatingly.

"Sister? Which one?" I knew exactly who she meant.

"Lisha, where is she?" She said.

"Oh, she went to school. Why?" I asked and started walking away. To be honest, I really didn't care why she was looking for her.

"She's supposed to wash the dishes today, but she refused. That girl is a pest in this house, and I have repeatedly told Pa alhaji this. That girl is becoming Kesha, part two, in this house. But today, I'll deal with her. She will come and meet me here. Her dirty dishes will be waiting for her. Twwz stupid useless child." She said, like she was in a battle with the air. Knowing she was still following me, I doubled my pace.

"Well, you'll have to punish her some other time, aunty, because she already took permission and will be spending the rest of the weekend with aunt Lisha"aunt Lisha is our father's elder sister and Lisha's namesake.

"and no one even told me. Don't you children have any respect for me?" I rolled my eyes as she ran and stood before me like she was about to hit me.

"Aunty Fatu, please, I'm already late for my class. Why don't you go complain to your husband " I walked past her towards the stairs. She stood there babbling on her own in the corridor.

"You are all despicable. You think you are now big girls. No respect for me at all," she went on saying.

Aunty Fatu is dad's third wife and was the favourite until dad started having an affair with my best friend, Zainab. The soon-to-be fourth wife of Alhaji Mahmoud Malik.