A Window of Escape

14.

My fatso, you're my cookie!
Who can relate? 😹😹

"She's so cute"
"Tubarkallah, ga ta fara tass!"
"Gaskia wannan 'ya ba dai kyau ba".

Ya Ilaahil Alameen.

Earlier, monday morning....

Daddy called me to his room and asked me to get ready, we'll be going out.
" I'm taking you along to greet my relatives, they have'nt seen you in a while" He said.

I was silent on hearing that, i simply don't want to see them, they're so mean.

"Asma'u, is that fine?" Dad asked.
I nodded with a smile.

But, its not fine.

"Go get ready, i'll be waiting for you in the car" He added.
I went back to my room and dressed myself in natives, Atamfa.

I can't remember when last i wore Atamfa. But i'm glad it looked great on me, like the real Bahaushiya.

No make-up, only Kohl. My hair in a french-roll style and a silky-veil covering it.

"You always remind me of your mother" Dad admired, with so much adoration in his eyes.

I started a 'prayer-session' as we drove out of the house.

Bismillah tawakkaltu alal laahi, walaa haula walaa kuwwata illaa billaah.
Allahumma laa sahla illaa maa ja'altahuu sahlan, wa anta taj'alil huzna iza shi'ita sahlan.

A phrase to decribe my paternal relatives-- 'Hell on Earth'. Its a traditional family-house with several door-like openings leading to different parts of the building.

We drove past the calm GRA into the noisy city of the state. The house is located in Adakawa ward of Dala; a densely populated area i promise you.

The driver, following Dad's instruction packed the car on the street.

"We're going to trek, its a very narrow lane" He said pointing at a passageway-- a footpath.

The houses are so closely attached to each other, only the entrances will make you realize that its not a single building. In the middle of the lane is a large gutter, covered with uniformized slab, made from cement.

What a poor drainage-system. Think of it, they are exposed to flood.

The dwellers of the community from appearance are no doubt 'Hausawa'.
I followed Dad and walked behind him. We passed a group of boys, dressed irresponsibly, doing only-God-knows. Young girls carrying large trays on their head, hawking. Children running from one angle to another without shoes, in the name of 'play'.

The air was highly polluted from noise and smoke of firewood and even weed.

How do they manage to breathe?

"Laaaa, kunga balarabiya" a brat yelled at the sight of me.

What the jahannam!

"Yeeee!" The dozen of kids screamed and coiled me.

Whats all this?

Daddy saved the day by calling their attention with a bundle of 50naira notes he drew out from the pocket of his white kaftan.
He distributed the money amongst them, more children came from nowhere and happily collected their share of 50naira.

"Alhaji, nima ka bani sadakar!" An old man in tattered clothes begged Dad.
Daddy respectfully handed him the remaining naira notes in his hand.

"Ubangiji Allah ya kareka daga sharrin makiya, Allah..." He prayed on and on as Dad beckoned on me.

What an economically depressed urban district!  Ghetto.

We continued walking and this time around i was beside Dad, not behind me.
People greeted Dad as if he was Baba Buhari. They stared at me like some sort of foreigner or alien.

In front of the house is an islamic school popularly known as 'Makarantar Allo' attended by mostly 'Almajirai' and children in the neighborhood.

The 'Malam' on seeing us half-ran from his sitting position and greeted Dad. He held a long 'Carbi' in his hand.

We made our way through the students seated on bare floor reciting different verses that was written for them to memorize on their 'Allo'.
We went into the house through the 'Soro' and finally we are inside-- 'Hell on Earth'.
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Here is a chappie for you Sir006.

I just hope you won't say its too short😥😖 Reedah001

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Aysha💗💗