Balogun

AWELEWA

I am not yours to hold. You are not mine to love.
- Prince Murewa

Abike realized a little too late that a Palace this huge couldn't have one garden, and as she watered the beautiful flowers that snaked around the conservatory, she fought down a strong wave of depression.

She wished she could find Teju and talk to him about her problems, the way she had always done back in Amu. She watched the other girls who were working in the garden with her as they chattered busily amongst themselves, laughing and just having a good time.

Why wasn't anyone talking to her? Was she the problem? Was she closed off?
She cleared her throat and decided to try. It couldn't hurt. Iroko wasn't here and the worst that could happen was rejection.

"Hi." She approached the group closest to her, with a slow smile. The group of three girls stopped talking and turned.

"I am Abike." She waved.

"Hi, Abike. Mariam." The girl closest to her waved the garden knife in her hands, sending loose clumps of soil in the air. They all laughed.
"This is Yetunde and she is Modupe," Mariam added, pointing to the other girls.

Abike waved at the two others girls and felt relieved by the welcoming smiles they gave her.
"We were wondering why you were alone," Yetunde said, returning to her business of trimming the flowers.

Abike looked behind her at the other girls who were having fun with each other, while still going about their activities, and imagined how pitiful she must have looked working alone.

"My friend isn't here," Abike answered, thinking about Fatima and how she hasn't seen her since yesterday.

"Who is your friend?" Mariam asked, crouching to pick up a rake lying on the floor close to her feet.

"Fatima," Abike answered, shaking her empty watering can.
"I don't know her." Mariam looked to the other girls and they shrugged.

The glass doors to the greenhouse slid open and Abike turned when the sound of laughter reached her ears.
It's been such a long time since she'd heard such a joyous sound.

It was a tall girl, she looked a little older than them, but still really young, about twenty-five years old.
She was walking towards them with her arm around a shorter girl and they were talking about something quite funny, judging from the smiles on their faces.

It seemed everyone stopped working to watch the beautiful girl make her way towards the sliding doors at the other end of the greenhouse. Abike watched with envy as the girl walked past them, her beauty so bright she almost closed her eyes.

The two girls slipped through the sliding doors and leaned on the handrail, looking down at whatever was below. Could it be a river? Abike didn't know. And she would never know because Mrs. Jamila had told them this morning that it was prohibited for them— the servants, to go through the sliding doors.

"That's Awelewa," Modupe whispered, even though the girl was too far away to hear them.

Abike's ears snapped open. "Awelewa?"

"Hmm hmm," Modupe answered, her gaze still on the beautiful girl on the other end of the greenhouse.

"Awelewa is the Prince's prized possession," Mariam explained. "In the laundry last week, some people were saying the Prince wanted to marry her sometime last year."