ORNAMENTS✅

Chapter Three

Marari, Northern Nigeria

The Motor Pack was as busy as ever, everyone immersed in their tasks.

"Walk faster!" Yakudima urged, wanting to catch the bus where the conductor was already yelling, "Dasuki, Dasuki, Dasuki!"

They squeezed into the bus, heading to Dasuki State, and sat there for almost half an hour before it finally filled up and their journey began.

Umaimah’s mind swirled with thoughts. She had decided to follow Zayyana’s advice and work in a house for a month. But if she ran away after that, where would she go? How would she find her parents? What if they weren’t even in Dasuki? Were the people she was going to work for crueler than Hajja?

No, no. Everything would work out. First, she had to get to the city. She pushed the thoughts aside and focused on the passing landscape. It was then that she realized—Marari truly was an underdeveloped village. The buildings here seemed so much taller, and the cars were newer.

She caught sight of a tall building and could only whisper, “Wow.” She continued staring out, mesmerized by the city, until exhaustion took over and she drifted off to sleep. When she woke, she heard Yakudima’s voice.

“Umaimah, wake up.” She blinked, startled, and saw they were at a bus stop. It wasn’t anything like the one in Marari—this one had a gate, buildings, and even a plaza, though she didn’t recognize it. To her, it seemed like an extravagant collection of shops.

Yakudima hopped into a tricycle, known locally as a Keke Napep and she followed suit.

“Take me to Yabo’s house,” Yakudima told the driver after settling in.

Yabo? He must be important, she thought. People in this big city seemed to know him. Back in Marari, everyone knew everyone, but here she didn’t know where the city began or ended.

She couldn’t stop staring at everything. The city was so beautiful, much more than she had ever imagined. It felt like she was in a dream, her own wonderland. The people of Dasuki were living a good life! That she was sure of.

The tricycle finally stopped at a pole, and Yakudima paid the driver. Umaimah followed her out.

“How much?” Yakudima asked.

“500 Naira.”

“From the Motor Pack to here is not even 500 Naira,” Yakudima protested. “I’ll give you 350. Take it.” She handed him two hundred naira and one fifty Naira notes.

“No, bring four hundred. That’s the least I’ll accept.”

“Napep drivers—always trying to take people’s money,” Yakudima muttered before handing over the extra fifty.

They walked towards a cream-colored royal gate. Yakudima picked up a stone from the ground and knocked loudly enough to make sure the people inside heard.

"Yakudima, slow down," came a voice from behind the door. A man in a security uniform stepped out, grinning. "As soon as I heard that knocking, I knew you were back."

Umaimah tensed up at first, her eyes widening. In her village, men in uniforms usually meant trouble—They came to catch and arrest thieves and offenders, but she relaxed when she saw how casually the man spoke with Yakudima.

“Saleh, enough of the chatter. Let me through,” Yakudima said with a smile.

Saleh chuckled and stepped aside, allowing them to enter.

Umaimah was in awe of the house. It was breathtaking—nothing like the village head's house, which was the grandest building in Marari. The mansion before her was decorated in cream paint with silver railings. It looked like something from a dream, and yet, Umaimah couldn't shake the feeling of unease. How could someone have so much money? Was he involved in something dangerous, like a cult? After all, back in their village, only cult members had that kind of wealth.