Garin Mazugal

Chapter 1

Garin Mazugal

So it started. The ephemeral rumblings of Hajiya Talle's cellar houses, instead of wines,perpetually chilled Kunun Aya.Visitors to this sprawling edifice always salivate at the sound of the vivacious screams of Hajiya Talle,ordering Ramatu to come serve her guests.The house,a magnificent definition of ostentatious pandiculation belonged to her son who was aspiring to be Governor of Garin Mazugal.They've had their own share of political opacity, failure and characteristic promise broken by politicians.Alhaji Mai Naira,a very famous politician in Garin Mazugal once organised a workshop to teach people how to use toothpicks! "Your teeth are very brown..Your breathe is smelly..These toothpicks will aid you in removing the particles of abinci that has stayed glued to your teeth". So he told them.He is a man famed for his love for prayers and addiction to fornicated fornication.But his people don't care. Anytime anything of sort is brought to fore, he quickly starts with " Salati gomma ga annabi"(Prayers for Prophet Muhammad saw). He spends 45mins praying and leaves the question unanswered. At the end of it all,people get convinced."Imani gare shi(He is a man of too much faith) so they leave him alone.A day after tomorrow,a new journalist comes to town. A naïveté, he feels towing the path of the famous investigative journalist, Anas Aremeyaw is a really noble idea."What's the point of being a journalist when I can't say the truth?" He asks himself.So he tries to expose Alhaji.All he gets as auport from the people is "Ai yana son annabi.In kaga masoyin annabi na yin abu,ka barshi kawai".. (He loves Prophet Muhammad (saw).Anyone who confesses his love for him isn't to be disturbed).
Hajiya Talle has seen it all.She is a woman who by sheer dint of hardwork and diligence saw herself through school. She had a second class upper degree in Sharia law and a First in Civil law.She was once a UN consultant for girl child education. The government of Saudi Arabia recognized her contributions to humanity and rewarded her with an eternal.pass to Hajj.But people of Garin Mazugal don't like her.They said she.doesn't allow her son expend his wealth.She doesn't allow Dr.Yaro,her son to dash them money anytime they hail.She always want to hear his plans for the people.But they don't care." Dubu biyun nan dai (That 2k)"

3 weeks ago,Dr.Yaro and Alhaji Mai Naira were to collide in the customary primary elections. Dr.Yaro,a Harvard trained medical doctor was first to address the delegates. He stood with the confidence of lion stalking his prey and spoke with the eloquence of a newly married man.
"In the name of Allah,the Beneficent, the Merciful.Blessings and salutations be upon our noble prophet Muhammad (saw).I stand here today, with the meekness of a servant and boldness of Lord Aurelius, to ask for your votes...."
He gave a brilliant talk on what he planned to give the people of Garin Mazugal.The reverberating applause he received after more or less strengthened his conviction. "This is smooth sailing " He said to himself.
Alhaji Mai Naira was a student of Mal idi Dan Yaro,a proponent of a welfarist system of electioneering campaign.He knows how to rile the crowd up.His mastery of "Mumu Buttons" was second to none.He walked gingerly to the stage,hammering on the "Bismillahi rahmani raheem" he said while standing.
"Toh Jama'a mun gode wa Allah.Ka San shi Allah babu abun da zai gagere shi... (We are grateful to God Almighty. There's nothing beyond HIM.)...he then paused for a while,bringing out his praying beads referred to as "Charbi".He mumbled something and kept it back. He continued.." Allah ko? Babu abun da ba za ya iya ba...(There's nothing HE can't do.).He tapped Dr.Yaro as if to spite, looking at him with a mixture of scorn and pity."Ko ya ka ce.. Likita?"(isn't that so,Doc?).He continued with a 45 minutes monologue of what God can and has done. Seeing that he has his audience where he wants them,he told them what they wanted to hear.
"I've counted 57 servants of God in this hall. From their faces,I can see they're not happy with the government but before we talk of manifestoes, these servants of God need to eat" .He wasn't allowed to finish. Screams of "Sai Alhaji " rented the air. He didn't show how pleasurable the situation was for him so as to be seen as someone of immaculate sincerity. He couldn't risk the people suspecting him.
He called out,begging with apparent humility and veiled scorn, to them to listen to what remained of what he had planned to say. After mumbling some incoherent nonsense, he ended by saying "Salati goma ga annabi (Prayers on Prophet Muhammad).
Dr.Yaro was amused and shocked. How loyalty swings!

At the far end of the hall sat a delegate, a man famous for his truthfulness, at least,outwardly. Mal Ishaq, a man of wicked stubbornness but materially flexible ideology, stood,hands akimbo,wondering. His people wanted good governance but can't stand for what is right." But a million Mazugal dollars can make a man change his parents! And, moreover, I can marry Hauwa with this money! But I have a reputation for saying the truth. What then do I do?" He thought to himself.
Mal Ishaq stood thinking. He was sure of his ability to conjure a dinosaur out of smoke. He never ceases to impugn anybody that doubts his ingenuity with his skill of being a writer. A writer that counts the first 3 lines of his school's anthem as his achievements.
"Jama'a,Asalamu alaikum" He called out. His voice can easily pass for a public address system or mistaken for the sound made by a jet engine or a mixture of both. Everyone turned around. Mal Ishaq,the integrity personification is about to speak.
"You know,my people, as delegates of the common man,we shouldn't joke with everything we see here. Whatever direction our actions are headed,we'll stand in front of Allah to give account. We shouldn't also be amongst those who sell their conscience for abun duniya.It'll finish! Wallahi you must know that! But the blessings of Allah will never finish. Meanwhile, if someone comes to meet you,after seeing the role you've played, challenges you've faced and difficulties you've overcome, saw it wise to on his own,donate something to you,are you then going to reject it?If Allah blesses you with something,are you going to reject it? Or are you telling me that HE doesn't know of what is happening?We are servants of Allah!If HE blesses us, we'll accept and thank him...."

"Gaskiya ne Mallam" "Allah shi kara lafiya Mallam" "Allah ya bada lada".

Mal Ishaq smiled inwardly. Magana sai kace ruwan sama.Mallam ya gan jakan kudi(Endless talks ...fuelled by the sight of money!)

CHAPTER 2
It was evening after Maghrib.Mal Musa Tsafe sat outside reclining on the tree that beautified his front yard. Beautified or mummified as it had only 16 leaves out of which 9 bore striking similarities with a rainbow incarnate.His occasional belch,always accompanied with an " Allah mun gode ma (We're grateful to God) speaks of a man who has eaten to his fill. He held his hand fan,dangling it aimlessly with the puerile aim of hoping it smacks mosquitoes out of the air.At 46,he looked quite young for his age .A huge container of Kunu stood gallantly beside him. He always tries to deflect his love for the drink by saying he needed it by his side just in case he gets thirsty. Then the trans generational radio,an archaic masterpiece. It'll easily pass a museum audition. The innermost part of the radio had a mixture of black and red color. Black being the original color and red, a beautiful reminder of how beautiful being dirty is.
Mal Musa Tsafe wasn't a man of too much wealth.He had enough to take care of his 3 wives and 17 children. His house was a spectacle; why wouldn't it? He has 15girls! Their education was of no paramount importance to him."Kuyi ta addu'a Allah ya kawo miji na gari...amma mai kudi(Pray a decent and rich man comes)".Binta,the eldest has this classic paternal one liner,permanently etched behind her kidney.

"Bintaaaaa! Bintaaa!"

"Na'am baba"

Binta answered.The softness in her dad's voice mirrored the irregularities she has noticed recently. Baba was a bit kind to her these days. He pampered her with Suya from Dan gata's every evening. He has never bought fried fish for two consecutive days. Whatever it was,she intended to find out.
"Zo,come sit here Yar Albarka..abun alfahari,Yar aljannah(Blessed child,my joy..A child made for the heavens)"
Binta sat down. Baba was smiling. She knew something was about to happen. And it wasn't going to be funny. Her opinion was not needed either. The decision had already been made. She still wanted to know...