HEAL

Chapter Eleven

CHAPTER ELEVEN
(Unedited)
She gazed at the cream and purple curtains and her thoughts unconsciously went to her mother, cool and quiet colors were her mother’s favorite. Often times Aaisha stopped herself from buying either plain red and yellow clothing articles because of her mother’s aversion for the color.
Yes, she was back home. Even though Aaisha was not the impulsive type but two days after she talked to Sister Sarah she was on a bus taking her to her home, that is if her parents’ house still remains her home. Throughout the journey, she tried as much as possible to block any thoughts of what could go wrong with visiting her family without informing them beforehand and only focused on praying, hoping that somehow in the strangest scenario everything will be back to normal and her parents would accept her as she is; a Muslim.
    And so far, everything was getting pretty close to normal. Her mother went to a seminar and she was not expected to be back until after three days and here she was; munching a plate of rice and beans covered with an unevenly grinded tomato sauce with large pieces of fish –her father special dish- he had promised to treat her to this after he learnt that she was close to reaching home. Aaisha phoned him immediately she reached town.
  Samuel was filled with excitement on seeing her and momentarily starts to ask her questions in between narrating tales to her and showing her the new toys he had acquired. She felt as if he was trying to feed her with all things that happened to him in her six months’ absence at a go. Now he was showing her his latest report card which had the word; excellent in bold green written all over it. “Of course his report had to be good, Samuel is her brother after all.”
   She took another spoon while making a mental note to take him out later in the night to buy him something, the sugar treats she brought from Bala won’t be enough.
    “See at what I can do,” Samuel rolled and jumped on the ground and she guessed he was trying to do a somersault.
   “Superhero” she clapped and failed awfully in suppressing her laughter.
“I can do this too” he did more tumblings that earned him applause and laughter from Aaisha.
“Samuel, let my daughter rest and enjoy her food in peace.”
Her father said in a peculiar gentle tone, the type he always uses when she comes from school on weekends and he complains about how she wasn’t eating enough food and getting enough rest. A happy smile broke through her face because she was glad that her father still holds that sentiment.
She checked the time and stood to go to her room to pray as it was almost time for Ishaa prayer and since she had not prayed yet, she excused herself from the company of her father and her brother.
“We will talk fully tomorrow, it’s a long journey you need to rest”
“Ok.” She stood up to go to her room, she was positive it would need an intense cleaning because she has been away for a long time.
“I thought Muslims pray before going to bed abi you don’t know how to pray yet?”
   If it was someone else that asked her this question, she would have proudly answered that she can now perform her Solah’s excellently without mixing Arabic terms up; the most challenging part for her in learning how to pray. She would have also rant about how it wasn’t easy memorizing verses of the Qur’an without anybody’s guide. But she was tongue tied and unable to form a word because the least person but the same time the most anticipated person she had expect to ask about her spiritual journey was right in front of her and asking about her prayers.
“God’s favor?” He paused a bit and added; “Aaisha, I won’t be able to call you Aaisha…at least for now”
Three times. Three times had been the number of times he had hugged her dad. The first time was when she graduated from primary school, second and third was when she graduated from secondary school and university respectively. Her father being the typical Yoruba man would only hug her when he is called to take photos with her daughter.
  The fourth time she is hugging him was more priceless than any other hugs because this was not a display of affection to a watching crowd, it was real this time and she felt good.
“The lord will bless you”. He said and patted her head.
***
“There you go,” Tee Tee said as he handed a glass of cold juice to Abdul who was busy typing away on his laptop. Hassan gazed at his own glass and wished that he could afford a refrigerator as well so that he can drink cold juices and water at his own discretion, not that Bala had the type of electricity that could run a refrigerator though, those that needed electricity supply had to depend on a community generator that only ran for four hours a day. Although they were both serving in a communication department who pays monthly salaries that could only be enough for a week data subscription; Tee Tee and Abdul’s lifestyle was the one to be envied; big apartments, expensive watches and fat wallets.
  Tee Tee was the more approachable of the two and he always told him he was welcome to the ‘business’ anytime he is ready. Of course, he does not feel any guilt about staying up at midnight, changing locations with VPN and being with laptops and phone all day. But what was holding him back was the same thing that held him from contesting for the President of his department, from smiling back at little kids strapped to their mother’s back who smiled at him and anything good he had ever tried doing; the fear of not doing it right and messing it up.
  “Chill and just say it, they are your friends, they won’t judge you.” Hassan mumbled to himself. He fiddled with his finger while thinking of the best way to present what was on his mind to his friends without embarrassing himself.
  After a series of internal fights, he blurted out, “Do you know any Islamic school around here?”
“What did you just say?”Abdul muffled a laughter that threatened to break his thin face.
“Where can I get a Madrasa-Islamic school,” He breathed out.
     Now Abdul crouched down, laughing with his hand on his belly.
“Guy, you are serious?” Tee Tee while trying to maintain to a neutral face, he couldn’t blame him though; Abdul’s laughter was contagious.
“I’m asking for someone, it’s not for me and I’m dead serious.”
“Yes Hassan,” He made an air quote and said,” you are surely asking for someone.”
He was grateful that at least Tee Tee wasn’t mocking him like Abdul did.
“I don’t know any Madrasa around.” He added emphasis to the last syllable and it came out as Madrasha but I think Jaddati’s daughter goes to one, so we will ask her.”
    Abdul slapped his shoulder and said, “Wonders, they say, never ends. So you are now suddenly interested in religion?”
   He didn’t bother to remove Abdul’s hairy hand from his shoulder as he was too elated on getting a headlight for his Madrasa search.
Glossary
Ishaa: One of the five mandatory Solah
Abi : Or
Solah : the prayer sessions held five times daily; one of the five pillars of Islam
Madrasa:  A Muslim School

Author's Note
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