𝓜𝔂 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂, 𝓶𝔂 𝔀𝓲𝓯𝓮

51# BRAINS

THE KHALIL RESIDENCE,
ASOKORO.
JUNE, 2022.

"We should have another picnic, Yahya", Hafsah said as Yahya got dressed. Yahya glanced at her with a small, knowing smile.

"You liked the last one that much?".

Hafsah returned the smile though she didn't particularly enjoy the picnic. The only reason she even brought it up was for Zaynab's sake.

The entire evening during the picnic, Yahya was joined to Zaynab's hip. To be fair, he did try to include her in his conversations, and he did pay attention to her. But not even she could compare to a deathly ill, sweet-natured woman.

It'd been a long while since the picnic, almost two months. Since then, Zaynab had only deteriorated. She couldn't breathe without a mask, she coughed at every turn, and her hair had started to thin. But through it all, she refused to get admitted.

She wanted to spend time with her family in her last days. In her words, the hospital could only confine her within their walls and give her a few more months to live.  At home, she'd deteriorate faster, but at least she'd have a better quality of life. Make memories that weren't bound within white, sterile walls of Empire hospital.

Since the last time they'd had the picnic, Yahya had been swarmed with work. The election was a day away, and the rush was mad. Starting out so late, he was still weeks behind schedule.

The opposing parties had run campaigns, but Yahya was barely able to manage one. Hafsah suspected that work gave him a sense of purpose. Between Zaynab's health and the gloom in the house, Yahya had only little cause for happiness.

But Zaynab had insisted he not relent in his efforts. At the moment, campaign-less, Yahya had only his reputation in his corner. His image was pristine for the most part, and his state people respected him.

But the gubernatorial candidate for his opposing party was promising, too. Until recently, he'd never known of the guy, Aliyu, but the man had quite an impressive portfolio.

No traces of criminal records, an extensive duration of study abroad and within the country, certificates claiming his proficiency in leadership from schools in the UK, US, Russia and locally.

Especially considering that the country was largely gerontocratic, the citizens had been pining for a younger candidates. Yahya couldn't fault them though; most of the fools  he met in the house of representatives were old, greedy fools that could hardly manage a simple, sensible conversation without bringing up how many assets were in their possession.

Still, there were people of the older population that had his respect. Innovative members that had used their years wisely, gaining experience and steady momentum. They weren't the most famous members, for very obvious, very corrupt reasons, but they gave Yahya hope.

They were expectant of him too, given his connections and reach. He was a voice for them, through which they could speak of morality and justice, a tune the country had long forgotten.

***
"We'll be going to the mosque today for Jumu'ah prayers", Hafsah said, after Yahya was done.

The governor's gaze turned apprehensive. "Even Zaynab?".

Hafsah nodded. "She was the one who even asked to go. I tried to change her mind, but she wouldn't listen".

Yahya's frown deepened. "It's not safe at all. She can barely breathe without her mask, why is she bringing up such an absurd suggestion?".

Sensing that the conversation was getting heated, Hafsah kept quiet. Yahya stalked out of the room in her lack of response, to talk some sense into his younger wife.