BELONGING - BOOK 1

02. The Bucket List

HADIZA

As I sat on Hanifa's bed, Mama expertly packed my bags, her hands moving with the precision of a surgeon. I was leaving for Abuja, and Aunt Maya's driver was on his way to pick me up. I couldn't help but think of Aunt Maya, my mother's older sister, who lived in the State House in Abuja. She was a nutritionist, independent, and still unmarried after her first marriage fifteen years ago. Her story was one of intrigue, with Baba allegedly having been her fiancé before their wedding was called off just a month before the ceremony - that explains why she didn't attend the wedding of her ex to her younger sister. Now, she spoiled us rotten, and Baba despised her luxurious lifestyle.

As Mama packed, I thought about my classmates, who came to bid me farewell. Hypocrites! They never cared about me until now. Even Mama's friends from the neighborhood came, their faces beaming with fake smiles. I remembered Hanifa's farewell feast, where Baba hired waiters to serve food and drinks. It was a grand affair, but today was different. Today, I was leaving for Braithwaite Academy, one of the best schools in Nigeria, with opportunities to study abroad in ivy league schools.

"The car is here," Baba announced, his voice echoing in the room. I stood up, my heart racing with excitement and a hint of sadness. I walked to Baba, who stood by the doorway, his hands crossed. We shared a moment, our eyes locked, as my classmates carried my bags outside. Memories flooded my mind - our basketball sessions and late-night conversations. I was closer to Baba than Mama, and I loved how he was perfect in almost everything, except for his temper.

I embraced him tightly, my hands wrapped around his shoulder, knotted at the nape of his neck. His white shirt smelled of cologne and shaving cream, a familiar scent that comforted me. He cupped my cheeks in his palms, his eyes shining with pride. "Be a good girl, Diza. Remember, life is a game of inches. Every effort counts. You are the sunshine that brightens our lives." I pouted, trying to hold back tears.

As we walked out of the house, a black sparkly Maserati came into view. Aunt Maya's car was sleek, luxurious, and intimidating. Baba opened the back door for me, and I raised my jilbab to avoid staining it with mud. "May Allah protect you," he said, as they all began praying. I replied "Ameen" mechanically, my heart heavy with emotion.

The driver loaded my bags, and I waited, taking in the sights and sounds of my neighborhood for the last time. The car had a whiff of high-end leather, and the seats were comforting. As the driver turned on the ignition switch, I began waving at them, tears welling up in my eyes. I was going to miss this place, miss Baba, miss Mama and Aunty Halima.

The GPS announced our arrival in five hours, and I felt a mix of emotions. I was excited to start my new life at Braithwaite Academy, but I was also scared of the unknown. What would my new school be like? Would I make friends? Would I excel academically?

As we drove away, the old posters and houses gave way to skyscrapers, coal-tarred roads, and luxurious air. I leaned against the window, watching the transition from Zaria to Abuja, my heart racing with excitement and a hint of fear. Sleep began to creep in, but I fought it, wanting to savor every moment of this journey.

As we pulled up to the grand gate, I felt a rush of excitement coursing through my veins. The driver expertly navigated the car into the secure area, where serious-looking guards watched us with keen eyes. I gazed out the window, taking in the breathtaking landscape unfolding before me. The lawns were perfectly manicured, with vibrant flowers and tall trees stretching towards the sky like nature's own work of art.

The State House loomed before us, its sheer size and elegance leaving me utterly breathless. I couldn't believe I was about to enter this world of luxury, where the privileged few resided in opulence. The building's imposing structure seemed to whisper secrets of power and prestige.