In Between Souls: An Arewa Love Story

3- Deceits and Candours

Adama Gidado Manga doubled checked the items in her carry-on. There was adequate underwear, enough clothing for the week, her cherished curly wig, shoes, two packs of sanitary pads just in case, makeup bag, miniature jewellery box, a stylish purse and a sling bag. Yet, an unsettling feeling of something missing gnawed her.

Seated in the middle of her room festooned in sage green, nude pink and beige, she inspected the space desperately searching for the missing item. Her laptop occupied its prominent spot on the bed, the nightstand held its usual items and the bench and chairs remained empty.

"What am I missing?" She wondered out, her legs giving a slight protest as she rose from her seated position. She headed for the walk-in closet. There, she found it; the brown toiletry bag on her dressing table.

"I knew something was missing." She voiced out, reaching for it.

Back in her room, she put the toiletry bag into the carry-on then closed it. Moving her body to a tune in her head, she rolled the bag to a side of the room. A surge of exhilaration coursed through Adama as she deliberated on her impending journey away from home. A radiant rupture of positive emotions showed in her face in form of a smile. In her anticipation, Adama had made thorough preparations. However, she couldn't shake off the speckle of guilt that troubled her as she defied spoken obligations. Then again, as a clear image of all the experiences awaiting her played in her mind, she brushed aside the negative feeling. Her sheer excitement overrode the antagonistic sentiments.

In the bathroom, she sang with joy. While she dressed, she danced and twirled. Her skin bore the rich fragrance of her most fascinating scent and her lips glistened with lip gloss, rendering them full, luscious and irresistibly inviting. At exactly the time she had hoped to leave the house, she hurried out of the door of her room with boundless energy.

A chorus of laughter welcomed her into the main living room of her parents' house. One can't help but take note of the high white ceilings adorned with decorative moulding and rich gold accents to the boiserie panelling on the walls. The soft, natural colour of the walls gave an elegant, calming feel. Arabic calligraphies, family portraits and arts in gilded frames adorned the walls. The heavy drapes of blue silk dressing the tall, expansive windows were opened to allow natural light pour into the room spreading an ethereal glow on every surface.

A Persian rug, a masterpiece of craftsmanship, covered the entire floor, combining comfort with elegance. Chairs, similar to royal thrones, dignified the room. Hand-carved edges featured meticulous attention to detail while the padding of sumptuous velvet in regal shades of sapphire and grey offered plush seating. Gold accents bejewelled the legs and armrests, augmenting the feel of luxury.

A coffee table, an incredible work of art, took stage in the heart of the room. Its glass top displayed rare collectibles, each piece a conversation starter.

Adama's eyes found her mother who sat on the upholster sofa. To her left, two women Adama knew sat on the longest chair and on her right was another woman leanimg forward on the double sofa to show her mother something in her phone. A maid poured tea from a white ceramic teapot into miniature cups placed before everyone.

"Mama." She called out for her mother getting the older woman's attention. Her mother's eyes brightened to her presence, her lips which were pursed due to concentration stretched.

"My darling." Her mother, Hajia Mardiya, replied, eyes dancing behind her glasses. She held out a hand to Adama who hastened her steps, navigating the empty seats. She paid her respects to other women in the room before sitting next to her mother. "Auta na." Her mother's affectionate voice warmed her. Hajia Mardiya cupped her youngest child's face, their fingers entwining. "You smell nice. Which perfume did you use?"