CAPTIVE

CHAPTER 14

For some reason I feel motivated to write another chapter.
Dedicated to @garuse @jaynaan @salmaaameen

Haniyya's POV

I twist and turn in the masjid but I can't seem to get a comfortable position. My back hurts so much.

I try to sit but I find it very had to sit completely. I get up but fall back down with a loud thud. I feel very weak. I think it's hunger but this kind of weakness feels completely different.

My stomach growls loudly signifying it is actually hunger. I hope.

Just then. My nose picks up the most delicious aroma. I quickly get up and follow it. I look out the window of the masjid and see a huge sign.

Iya Beji's Spot

There is a huge woman with a plane red shirt and patterned wrapper tied around her waist. She has a multicolored scarf on her head.

I notice what caused the aroma. The freshly fried akara next to her. My stomach grumbles again. I've always been a sucker for freshly fried kosai. As umma would say "Wata rana sai an sache ki da kosai (One day they will steal you with kosai/akara)"

My stomach sinks at the thought of umma. I really miss her. I say a silent prayer for her.

I continue to stare at the plumpy woman, probably Iya Beji, and her ravishing kosai when a sight catches my attention.

A baby is seated at a corner playing with a ball when all of a sudden the ball bounces across the busy street. Iya Beji is too consumed in frying her kosai that she doesn't notice the baby crawling to the street to pick her ball.

I try to shout to get her attention but my sore throat doesn't allow me. So I do what any rational citizen would do. I run across the busy street ignoring the pain in my knee or the small pebbles digging into my bare foot.

I dodge a keke napep and motocylcle and grab the baby just in time. But I didn't see the other motorcycle on time so it tries to avoid me and the baby causing a huge commotion from passer bys.

That seems to gets iya Beji's attention as she comes running to the street shouting different things in Yoruba but i catch only the word Oluwa which I know as God thanks to Nigerian artists.

She grabs her baby and hugs me tightly.

"Thank you My Daughter" she looks at my face and hugs me tighter "Thank you ehn. Thank you"

I try to reply but my throat hurts badly so I just manage a smile. She helps me up and takes me accros the road.

I scan my body and notice my injury is a bit worse. I drag my dress to cover it up. I dust my body and stand up to head back to the masjid.

"My daughter where you dey go?"

I turn around when I realize she is talking to me. I shrug and point to the masjid.

"Noo come chop first." She gets up and drags me to a stool.

Before I can protest, she feels up a plate with akara and hands it to me.

I couldn't resist how good it looked so I collected it. She pours pap into a large cup and gives it to me.

I smile at her and collect it. I clear my plate within ten minutes and rub my stomach.

She notices and offers me extra but I decline. I wash my plate and cup with a near by tap and hand it over to her.

"Thank you ma". I whisper.