Living Water

14. The Occasion

She was driving through the metropolitan urban districts of Maitama, just taking in the alluring view of ambiguously large storey buildings, with an even wider compound space, the tarred streets of the habitat of wealthy families in Abuja.
Ayla secretly coveted living in such an embellished environment such as the one she currently drove in, but deep down she doubted the possibility of that ever happening as land in this great town was too costly, the money she could use to rent a house here, she rather use it to buy a land in one of those rural settlements.

She already drove past the venue of the wake keep, annoyed with herself for leaving the house so early for an event that starts by 12:30 pm, few members from church were supposed to be in attendance to share their condolences and pay respects to the grieving family, so she volunteered to be amongst the group attending the wake keep ceremony, but unlike the others that were going to be in attendance she had different motives.
As much as she wanted to save fuel and attend the ceremony she had to follow the principle of African time, so she continued to while away time soaking up the aesthetically pleasing views the landscape around her had to offer, her aim was to be at least an hour late.

When she felt like she had enough of sight seeing for the day, she drove to the venue of the event which was located within the town. She pulled up in front of a house labelled on the gate was Plot 12024, the same address shared on the church platform as the venue of the wake keep.

She parked by the kerb opposite the house. Her heart pounded in her chest in anticipation of what or who she may see. This was why she couldn't allow Timothy to come, Dayo could be here, she couldn't take the risk of a disastrous encounter. Besides he had a butt load of questions to unleash on the deserter. After fifteen good years, the possibility of setting eyes on him again, made her heart pound nervously. He would have changed alot, he could even be married with children, the existence of her and his son were probably nothing but a sifting occurrence, insignificant to him, after all they never really legalized their relationship, these myriad of thoughts dampened her spirits.
Resentment and anxiety kept her glued to the car seat, she couldn't summon the courage to step out of the security of her car. She grafted her fingers together placed it on the steering wheel and rested her head on her thumb, muttering a short prayer under her breathe.
"Lord Jesus, I can't do this alone. Please take control , if perhaps I see Dayo help me not to do anything that I'll regret later. Da'allah." She pleaded in Hausa language.

As she lifted her head, her thoughts settled like the aftermath of a violent snow storm. She dug into her handbag and brought out a pocket sized Arabic perfume, just a tiny spray was enough to cause people to turn heads, Ayla only used it on special occasions and right now she needed an urgent confidence booster.
She stepped out of the car draping her black scarf loosely around her head and wearing her sunglasses with thick frames, the goal was to appear mysterious and conceded.

Her footwear slapped the concrete, every step that lead her closer to the gate, the more she walked straight, and made sure her posture was not slacking. They were going to be rich people attending this wake keep, she may not have their kind of financial substance, but it didn't mean she couldn't blend in.

The building was a mansion, painted with sparkling white, specks of golds were used to add color occasionally to different aspects, like the pillars, gates and so on and so forth. Ayla marvelled at the neatly mowed lawns and the bed of diverse flowers, separated a foot away from each other. On the opposite side, a canopy was mounted with few tables beneath the covering, a few guests were already seated and the sound of highlife music streamed from the speaker. A large banner of Doctor Yabo was placed on a stand, beneath was written in bold 'Called to Glory' a 'celebration of a life well lived.'

She walked over to the tent and sat on one of the round tables. The atmosphere which she expected to be somber and down cast was actually one filled with banter and jubilation, which was a mood she didn't expect from a person, who had spoken of his children deserting him. She also expected to see very few guests in this event, but people still trailed into the venue with each passing moment, slowly occupying the tables, except hers which was yet to be fully occupied.
The guests in attendance discussed over the music in loud voices, most of them wore white apparel, while some dressed normally, with no regards to a specific color code.