"Oh no, no need to rack your doltish brain, I will tell you. It consist of rotten tomatoes, black pasta, warts, peanut buttter, mushrooms ... and ofcourse cheese sticks.
"That's what my life is worth?"
"Well, I thought that was expensive."
_________...
"Dada I'm sorry. I will visit you soon. I promise."
"You've said that about a million times," her Grandmother's old voice croaked. Leilah could imagine how her father's mother looked as they talked-- probably sitting by the fireplace for the weather is quite chilly, her curled grey hair a sign of weakness rolled down her shoulders, her fair- skin glowed regardless of her age and a smile adorned her lips as they talked.
"Dada, really. Talk to dad, he wouldn't allow me to come to katsina even after nagging him almost every day. Said he would bring me himself when he's less busy. And I'm not sure if that's gonna happen soon, since I'll be leaving with Aunty Maina for the time being-" Leilah dragged her baggy Adidas pants over her legs. It was a struggle since she was trying to keep her phone in place between her cheeks and shoulders. A sigh escaped her lips.
"Toh. So yake sai na mutu tukunnan ya kawo ki kiga gawata. ( Does he wants me death before he brings you to see my corpse? Where is he right now?"
"He went out earlier but promised to come back early so he could drop me at the airport," she struggled with her loose sweatshirt as she draped it over her.
Her red veil matching her Nike trainers laid flatly on the bed. She glanced and stared at her reflection in the mirror contemplating whether her choice of clothing wasn't out of context- but she liked it comfy- especially when she had to travel.
She'd always stuck to the rule-- comfy, simple and classy.
"I miss you."
"I miss you too, Dada."
Leilah always wondered why her grandmother never left katsina. Her dad had tried countless times but the old woman just wouldn't budge. Her reason being, 'I was born here so i am going to be buried here.'
******** LAGOS.
NIGERIA.
It had been a short flight from Abuja to Lagos. About forty-five minutes.
She dragged her suitcase and went straight to the waiting area.
Esha- the youngest daughter of Uncle Ibrahim was waiting for her. She had a nice violet gown with a matching turban. Deep brown sparkling eyes like her father and a pretty melanin glowing skin like her mother.
