Barakah

- Bloodline Bore Legacies

25/6/2020.

. . . . . . .

Barakah

     She could taste it, the apprehension. Deep in her gut it churned. She knew the fog encompassing her would dim, dwindle, sooner rather than later. And her eyes would realize the true view.

     She knew it.

Silence was an unfulfilling vacuum in the dinning area. The smell of good food hitting Barakah's nostrils in whips and the sound of clattering utensils. They were almost done with the entire dinner. Barakah thought it was more of a three-course meal than a simple dinner.

"Amal noi lawol? Les'te yasi japbi ma." Her bother in-law, Bashir Ba-Manga asked from across the dining. The first to break the ponderous silence.

She gave the man more brute a side smile, very curious as to how her sister could marry such a man. A man who looked nothing close to her sister's fancy or partiality. That too at the green age of eighteen. Bashir wasn't unattractive, his appearance was just too daunting. Even as he was seated, he was a sky-scraper over everyone and his demeanor was quite, warlike.

"Jam jam. ."  She humbly responded. She wasn't familiar with him. In fact, Barakah didn't even attend the wedding.

She found out about her twin sister's swift wedding three months after the ceremony and two years later, Barakah arrived to a very pregnant Bara'a. That was since her last visit.

She knew there was more to it. The hush-hush surrounding the marriage made it very easy to see through. All Barakah knew was that it had to do with charms.

"Amal I'll come pick you up tomorrow. Pack a bag or two. I'd want to have you all to myself since you know, it's been awhile. . . . . That's if it's okay with you?" The night was coming alive. Barakah viewed at the elevated windows, floor to ceiling. It was dark, a disastrous gloominess. She couldn't even see a crescent moon.

"Is that okay with Baba?" The wise telling wrinkles around her father's deep eyes set loose as the rest of his face bore creased lines. He looked older, more stern.

"Yes of course Amal." Barakah's eyes met her sister's whose form was rising along with her husband's. They were rushing back home to Fadimatu, their daughter whom Barakah had last physically seen a very newborn.

Barakah had fled for her room after giving everyone their greetings. On opening the door, Bara'a's form was latching her drapes, incense flooding Barakah's nostrils.

Bara'a had disposed of the burner on Barakah's bedside table and quickly, held onto Barakah for an embrace.

"I've missed you most especially Zulfa. . . Where's my niece?" Barakah had snuggled her head at the junction of her sister's neck. The fragrance of her sister often woke her senses with a jolt. Her signature scent didn't have any sweetness to it. Just pure woman and it gave her an intense allure.

She's met a few women who smelt as good as her sister.

"She's caught a bad cold so we dropped her at her aunt's. I wouldn't be able to handle her and you at the same time." Impatience rolling off her. Barakah knew she just wanted to be with her daughter.