Eleven: But The Last One Will Be Mine

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"Brrrrrr, Brrrrrr," My phone buzzes under my pillow. But I turn away. It stops, the few minutes later, goes off again. I hiss and sit up.

It's just 04:15 A.M. Without looking at the number, I answer, "Meye haka, dan Allah?"

A male voice replies with a laugh, "Yi hakuri."

My eyes widen in recognition, then I clear my throat. "Oh, Alhaji, I didn't know it was you. I'm so sorry." I scratch my scarfed head in guilt.

He laughs again, "No problem. I just wanted to try the number, and I didn't even expect you to pick."

I smile sheepishly. "I'm not a morning person."

"I can see that. So what are you up to today?"

I frown, recalling adda Rabi's comment about his marriage. Surely his wife would be asleep by now, or maybe she didn't even follow him to Bauchi. If not, why would he be speaking freely to me by this time?

I shake my head. Whatever the case, why should it be my concern? He's not even my husband, so why should I bother?

I tell him that I have nothing planned for the day, which is true.

"That's good. I want you to accompany me somewhere."

Toh. So soon? "Emm, just like that?"

"What do you mean?"

I lean against the wall behind me, "I mean, we just met yesterday. So isn't it too soon to ask me out?"

He burst into laughter. It sounds mocking in my ears. "Wai 'ask me out', are we teenagers?"

I smile, swallowing my embarrassment.

"I see you, I like you, and I want to see you again. There's nothing complicated about that. So are you going or not?"

I don't like this tone of his, it sounds like a threat. But then I like how straight to the point he is. I tug the collar of my nightgown. "Of course, I will go. I ju-"

"Aisha," he interrupts. I sit up as his voice sends a thrill though me. Not a teenager indeed. "Do you like me or not?"

I blink. Do I? I don't even know. But I am curious about him. "Yes."

"Toh, Magana ta kare. I will send my driver to come and pick you by 10:00A.M., and I expect you to be ready by then, or else..." He laughs.

I grimace. This man is definitely threatening me. But I find myself smiling. I like it.

"Toh, ranka ya dade, an gama." I say.

"Good. Toh, I see that it's time for prayer. Let me let you go. Sai anjima."

I nod, "See you later."

After prayer, I join mama in front of her dark little kitchen, stuffing charcoal in a triangular looking thing. Scrunching my nose, I say, "how much is small gas cooker?"

Mama turns to look at me, "How will I know?"

"It's better than this suffering mana."

Toh, "she moves the object from to side as the charcoals rattle inside, "Toh, buy for me so that I can rest."

"Allah fa," I peek into the kitchen to pick a stool. But the sun is yet to rise and there's no electricity to see around. I hiss.

"Please check for my fan in there." Mama says.

I gape at her, "In where? It's very dark."

"It's by the wall, just use your hand to feel for it."

I eye her, then the kitchen. Groaning, I bend by the door and stretch my hand inside, hoping I don't touch anything disgusting. Finally, I feel for the fan and grab it, but then something climbs my hand. A cockroach?

"Wayyo Allah!" I flip my hand and throw the fan toward mama. But it ends up landing inside the open pot of water beside her.

She glances at me, "Sannu."

I move to carry the pot when the main house gate opens. Baba says salam and we answer. "Who was screaming like that?" He asks, hands behind his back.

Mama ignores him and enters the kitchen. I glare at her back before turning to my father, already seeing his teeth shining in the semi darkness. But I won't give him that satisfaction. "I don't know. Maybe it's the next house." I say, looking down.

"Kaniyanki. You're very stupid." He replies. I smile. What else is new? As I turn to the drum of water behind me, he adds, "And what am I hearing about you and Alhaji Mai Sujjada?"

I freeze, then catch mama standing by the kitchen entrance, also surprised. Anna Sabuwa and her big mouth. Why on earth would she tell him anything? It's not as if Alhaji asked for my hand in marriage or anything. Kai.

"Dam-" Mama starts to say but Baba holds up his hand to shush her.

"Dake nake," he points at me. "Nothing is going on. He just offered me a ride yesterday, that's all."

"You didn't beg him anything?" He asks and I gasp. What the hell?

"Haba, baba-" Mama starts but he shushes her again, eyes on me. He wants to insult me, as usual, make me feel little, useless. Even after all these years, he still sees nothing but the mistakes of the girl I used to be.

What nonsense. "I didn't beg anything from him, baba." I say through clenched teeth, head down so he won't see my tears.

"Whatever it is you're up to, don't bring it near this house. Alhaji Mai Sujjada is a respectable man, so I trust him."

With that, he goes into the house. Mama follows, then stops and looks at me, eyes filled with concern. I ignore her and fetch my water, then place the pot on the object that has already started heating up.

I head to my room and plop on my bed, a plan forming in my head. Baba and his sister may have the first laugh, but the last one will be mine, once I become Alhaji Mustapha mai Sujjada's wife.


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