*
Monday - the bane of Afrah's existence - came so swiftly that she was left wondering where the time had flown to. It seemed just like yesterday when she was returning to her parent's home, and yet here she was now, driving into the gates of Bayero University Kano.
"Good morning, miss," the security man smiled at her as he handed her the gate pass, a small, yellow plastic card.
"Good morning," she replied faintly, taking the card from him quickly. As she drove past, the second security guard could be heard arguing with a nervous looking teenager.
"I told you already," he said angrily, "you are not entering this school without your ID card. I don't care whether you left it at home or not. Go back and pick it before you will be allowed to enter."
Today's lecture was scheduled to hold at the New Twin Theater behind the Department of Anatomy, which was all the way at the back of the campus. Taking the route to the left - which would bypass the other crowded parts of the campus -, she drove on with a solemn look in her eyes.
The black abaya she was wearing had been hastily thrown on, her eyes were already drooping from lack of sleep and she had made the unfortunate mistake of skipping breakfast.
All in all, she looked like a mess.
Absentmindedly, she reached for her phone and dialed Maryam's number.
"Who is this?" She answered the phone on the first ring. "Don't tell me it's Afrah Aminu, because I might just reach through the phone and whack her across the head."
"Good morning to you too," she rolled her eyes.
"So this is when you decide to call me, right?" Maryam said as she feigned annoyance. "Where were you all through the holiday?"
"Honestly, I tried calling you," she said. "There must have been a network issue or something."
"Save your excuses for someone who will believe them," she replied. "Anyway, where are you? The lecture is about to begin, and I've saved you a seat."
"I'm pulling up right now," Afrah said as she parked in front of the building.
"Oh, I see you already," she said. "Whoa! Is that a new car?"
"Shut up!" Afrah said as she parked the car and hopped out.
Sure enough, Maryam had saved a seat for her right in the front row. They barely had time to hug each other before the lecturer burst into the room, muttering to himself and carrying an old file before him. It took a few minutes before the class settled down, and all through that Mr Ibrahim simply stared at them with a bored expression in his eyes, as though he had done this a thousand times already.
Which he nearly had.
"Good morning," he said in a clipped tone once he was satisfied with the silence. Not even waiting for their reply, he turned around and began to scribble on the board:
THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN LEPTIN AND ANTHROPOMETRIC PARAMETERS IN TYPE 2 DIABETIC PATIENTS IN KANO, NIGERIA
"I expect a five hundred word essay on the topic," he said as he turned around slowly. "To be typed and submitted before the end of this week."
A general murmur of disagreement followed, and Mr Ibrahim waited for it to die down before he continued. "You will each submit this individually to my office, which I expect you to know by now. If you get lost, then I truly sympathise with you," he said with a malicious grin. "That will be all."
As he turned towards the door, amidst the raucous noise that broke out immediately, he turned to stare up at them with a cold look in his eyes.
"By the way," he said quietly, so that everyone fell silent immediately so they could hear what he had to say, "for your blatant disregard of the general ruling against rowdy conduct in the classroom, I expect to see this submitted before Wednesday."
A deathly silence fell upon them, and he paused to glare at them once again before stepping out of the classroom. Only after they were certain that he had left did the noise break out again.
"This is an outrage," said one of the front row seaters. "It's a blatant abuse of power."
"He wouldn't have been so wicked if you buffoons had kept your mouths shut," the class representative said irritatingly. More arguments broke out at once, and in the midst of it all, Afrah and Maryam hugged each other once again.
"You look like you've eaten a lot over the holiday," Maryam said as she smiled at her. "I assume you've been fed well?"
"Of course," she replied. "Umma has been very strict over my diet."
"As she should," she nodded in agreement. "When did you get a new car?"
"Last week," she replied, blushing furiously. "Abba had it delivered here before I came back."
"And if I were to call you 'Daddy's girl', you'd be the first to deny it," Maryam chuckled. "Shall we go and bless the new addition to the family?"
"Sure," Afrah smiled as she stood, just as several other people did the same.
"Don't forget, we have a seminar later today at Mahmud Tukur Theatre," the class rep. called over their heads as everyone hurried towards the door. "It's by 2pm, and you are all invited to attend."
Afrah glanced at the writing on the board once again, and her heart dropped several inches. This would keep her up all night for the next three days. It was just like the evil man to set them such a difficult task on the first day back.
"Don't worry," Maryam said as she followed her gaze. "It just means we'll have to spend a few more hours in the library. It's nothing we're not used to."
"I was actually hoping these last few weeks would be easy on us," Afrah said as they stepped out into the cool air.
"Well, you thought wrong," Maryam said. "I can't wait to leave this awful school."
"You're not alone in that," Afrah said as they stepped out into the cold air. Up ahead, Afrah spotted three guys staring at her car avidly. One of them was walking around it with his mouth open, while the other were talking quickly and pointing repeatedly at the car.
Almost immediately, she felt a knot tighten in her stomach. She knew that if she walked to the car, they would turn their attention to her, and that was the last thing she wanted. Heart pounding, she stopped dead in her tracks.
Maryam paused, turning to look at her with a puzzled expression on her face. It took her a few seconds to understand what was going on.
"They're just boys, Afrah," she said quietly. "Don't think about it too much."
"Maybe we should wait for them to leave first," she said timidly.
"Look around you, Afrah," she gestured. "You are surrounded by boys. What difference do these three make? They're just like every other boy in this school; dumb, broke, lazy and immature. And don't forget how broke they are."
Afrah laughed at that, and Maryam took the opportunity to pull her along. Though her hands were still trembling slightly, she didn't stop her from doing so.
As they reached the car, the one who'd been circling it like a hawk looked up at them, an unmistakable look of greed in his eyes.
"Is this yours?" He asked, looking between both of them as he wasn't sure who owned the car.
It was a few seconds before Afrah nodded weakly.
"But this is the latest Mercedes S500," he said, furrowing his brows. "It just came out like six months ago."
Though she wasn't aware of that particular bit of information, Afrah nodded nonetheless.
"It must have cost a fortune," he said.
"I guess so," she shrugged, wishing he would just leave. Maryam was staring at him with a sour look in her eyes, having studied his appearance completely, down to the tiny hole near the cuff of his shirt and the stain on his trouser.
"Can I take a picture with it, please?" He asked sheepishly, staring down at her feet.
"Um..."
"Maybe next time," Maryam said as she shunted her towards the car. Afrah mercifully hopped into the driver's seat, while Maryam got in beside her, leaving the guys to stare at them as she started the car and drove off quickly.
"Idiots," Maryam muttered. Afrah smiled at her as she turned on the AC.
"That wasn't very nice of you," she said.
"They shouldn't be trying to look cool with something that doesn't belong to them," she said hotly.
"It's just a picture," Afrah said. "They didn't kill anyone."
"Whatever," Maryam waved dismissively, taking a deep breath. A huge grin appeared on her face as she turned towards Afrah. "It smells like heaven in here," she said, running her finger over the cold dashboard and the mildly warm leather seats. "Your father really cares about you."
Afrah said nothing as they drove past the male hostel.
"Are you going for the seminar?" Maryam asked.
"What seminar?"
"The one we were just told about," she said. "We don't have anything else to do then, so why don't we go and see what it's all about?"
"I don't know..." Afrah pursed her lips. She wasn't really looking forward to being in a crowded place today, and she would have very much liked to find a quiet, secluded place to do anything else. But Maryam had an uncanny talent of being very persuasive.
"It'll be fine," she said kindly. "We'll leave at once if we don't like it."
"Fine," Afrah said. "If you insist."
It's funny how the tiniest decision we make in life can lead to such major outcomes without us even realizing it. The decision to attend the seminar seemed so ordinary, so mundane that Afrah would never have guessed how much her life was going to change from that moment on, within the walls of the ancient theatre.
*
*The theatre was a large and partially curved hall, not fully a semicircle but very nearly so. Several rows of seats were arranged so they curved with the building, facing inward towards a raised podium on which six plush, brown seats were arranged. All around the hall, several banners had been strung over the many doors, bearing the symbol of a woman extending a small bundle to a little girl, against a green backdrop.
*"Well, that was a complete waste of our time," Maryam said as they peeled away from the lights. "I'm never attending any seminar like this ever again."Afrah merely nodded, keeping her eyes on the road.
*Cursed amongst all seasons is Harmattan, the harbinger of dry skin, crusty lips and the sickening coldness of the air in the early hours of the morning. Though it was much despised by nearly everyone in the north, none of their hatred came close to Afrah's.Abba always told her that 'hate' is such a strong word, and should never be used except for the most extreme situations. Which is why she chose to use that same word to describe the we
*"In the name of everything that is good in this world Umma, please don't make me do this," Afrah pleaded."It's just this once, Afrah," Umma said. "All you have to do is meet with him. I'm sure he's a very nice guy."
*"Are you sure about this?" Maryam asked as she stared out the window for the umpteenth time."Absolutely not," Afrah replied. "I'm only doing this so Umma will get off my back."
*The tense air surrounding the table was beginning to suffocate Afrah. Fahad refused to take his eyes off her, even when he chewed his food or drank some water. It was almost as if his eyes were the needle of a compass, and she was the North pole.It had been thirty minutes already; thirty grueling, uncomfortably silent minutes. The awkward car ride was nothing compared to this.
*It felt good to be back home. Though it had only been two weeks since her departure, Afrah felt like she had been away for too long. She had missed the comfort of her bed, the darkness of her room and the coolness of the AC.For once, everything was perfect in the world.
*Khalifa was parked outside the hotel when Adnan stepped out, wearing grey joggers and a black hooded sweatshirt. His hair looked disheveled, huge eyeballs circled his eyes and he was dragging his feet towards the car.He looked like a fashionable homeless man.
*The drive to the beach took longer than any of them had anticipated. The weather was dry, with the heat rising to a dangerous level. Twice, they had to stop to fix a punctured tyre. "Are we there yet?" "Just a little further," he replied, wading through the traffic. "It won't be long now."They had left his uncle's house early that morning, with a picnic basket which they filled along the way. They had hoped to beat the traffic by leaving early, but even so they only managed to cover eighteen miles in an hour. By the time they finally reached the beach, it was a few minutes past noon. The sun was high up in the sky, and their shadows had disappeared underneath them. There was a small crowd gathered on the sand, which surprised him as it was a weekday. "Come," he said to her, offering his right hand while he took the basket in the other. "I know the perfect spot for us."He led her away from the crowd, keeping his hold on her tightly. He recognized the group as students from the
* Azra was a bright-eyed, polite, little eleven year old who couldn't meet anyone's eyes when she was brought to the house by Adnan. Afrah, who had been discharged three days prior, watched from her window as he drove into the house with the little girl sitting beside him. Looking at him, she still didn't know what exactly she felt. Of course she still despised what he'd done, but she didn't necessarily hate Adnan himself. Forgiving him was hard. It was probably the hardest thing she would ever learn to do. But it would be worth it if they would learn to live happily for the rest of their lives. Azra's mother had been much too happy to let her go. They had been struggling to provide for the little girl with her new husband, who was significantly less-wealthy than Adnan. Layla knew the girl would have a better future with her biological father. When she got the call from Adnan, a part of her wanted to hang up on him. But since it concerned his daughter, she'd listened to his plea a
*Carpets and curtains. She dreamt of them both, not as separate entities, but as one. Throughout her existence, Afrah had been surrounded by carpets and curtains, each lending its own unique addition to the story of her life. They were always silent, never considered but ever present. She recalled the carpets in her bedroom, how soft and flat it was. Twice a year, the carpets would be taken out so they could be washed and returned. The curtains were washed every month, and Afrah remembered sitting in the middle of her room one time when both carpets and curtains were removed, and she simply stared at the barrenness of her room. Strange how something as insignificant as carpets and curtains could change the entire appearance of her bedroom. She recalled the carpets in her father's room, the plush cream color stretching from wall to wall. His curtains were white, which she remembered complaining to her mother about once. "Why can't I have white curtains as well?" she'd asked. "Bec
*Afrah didn't know she was capable of doing it until she'd done it. Spontaneous action was never her area of expertise, knowing fully well that she was more of a reactive person than a proactive one. But the sight of Fahad falling to the floor jolted her to action. It was like a spark had awakened in her, grinding the gears in her brain. She began by lunging for the gun. Yusuf wasn't expecting her to move. Neither did he hear her move, since the carpet muffled her footsteps. He was still pointing the gun at Fahad's twitching corpse when Afrah's hands suddenly wrapped around the gun and yanked it out of his hands. He staggered back, bewildered by her action. And then she brought the gun to his chest, looking him dead in the eye. Time seemed to freeze in that moment. Neither he nor she dared to move. Between them was their hateful glare, separated by the barrel of the gun. His breathing was calm, while hers was irregular, coming in short bursts. In that moment, their roles were rev
*Every movement caused Afrah to jump; every second his eyes spent watching her made her skin crawl. She didn't sit. Instead she remained where she was standing, her arms folded in front of her. Yusuf meanwhile had leaned back into the seat, sighing comfortably. "What would you like to have?" he asked nonchalantly. "Some water, perhaps? I have some orange juice which still happens to be fresh. Or would you prefer a coke? I have some wine as well, but then knowing how close you and Adnan are, I'm sure he's taught you to stray away from fine wine. So, which would you prefer to have?""I would like to have my daughter back," Afrah replied. Yusuf studied her for a few seconds before he chuckled. "Of course," he said. "It's why you're here, is it not? As for me, I'd like a Bloody Mary."He stood up then, stretched with a slight groan before he left the room. Afrah remained where she was, awkwardly staring at the stained walls with nothing but a single wall clock hanging on them. She tho
*"I remember it like it was yesterday," Halima said. "And I know how cliché that sounds, but it really does feel like yesterday even though it was almost thirty years ago."Adnan tilted his head to the side, trying to detect a hint of deception in her words. "I was a little girl, so foolish and ignorant. I guess I've always been like that. But we can say that my ignorance and foolishness were somewhat exaggerated at that point in my life. Before I tell you how it happened however, I think you should understand the beginning of it all. I believe I was on my way to my uncle's house that day. I'm sure your father told you all about the village we grew up in.""Bakura," he replied indifferently. "Yes," Halima replied, twisting her hands. "It's a small settlement, and we grew up so close that everyone knew the name of everyone else. It was so small that it was impossible to leave home without everyone being able to give a detailed account of where you went. Your paternal grandfather and
*Adnan couldn't bring himself to do it. All through the flight to Kano, he kept staring at his mother in-law's phone number, debating whether he should do it or not. He couldn't. What exactly would he say?'Hello, yes I was just wondering if you have a hand in kidnapping my daughter and I was just wondering if you knew where she was so I can get her back?'Stupid. He couldn't tell Afrah either. Not when it involved her mother. She would be heart broken if she found out. But then Zainab might be lying. She was a pathological liar after all. Why wouldn't she lie to him? It didn't make any sense. Surely she must have just said that to throw him off their scent. And stupid as he was, he'd left the state knowing that she'd been pardoned by the governor. Now she was free; free to wreak her havoc over them once again. He was trapped between a rock and a hard place. When they landed in Kano, Adnan's first stop was the police station. The sergeant was eager to help, and very soon all t
*Some say terror brings an overwhelming sense of confusion, so sharp and painful that the person isn't able to decipher his left from his right. It robs the mind of its tact, and ensnares the person in its claws. For Afrah, terror brought an overwhelming sense of calm. In the seconds after Adnan spoke to her on the phone, her senses heightened, and something inside of her seemed to snap. She was neither aware of walking out of the hospital, nor was she aware of hopping into her car and driving off. Her heart was racing, and the wailing of a thousand exhausted cars desperately trying to maneuver around each other was lost to her. All she heard was silence, so pure and complete that even her breathing was faint, almost nonexistent. And then she screamed.No one heard her, of course. No one heard the anguish in her voice, or the desperation in her every breath. The pain came from within her, seeping out of her pores and wrapping her in a dreadful blanket. Remarkable however, was the f
*Hafsah grew rapidly. It was almost as if one day she went to sleep a baby, and woke up the next day with a vocabulary of over five hundred words. Her growth spurt happened right around the time that Afrah and Adnan moved to Kano. Amina called it their migration, while everyone else called it a relocation. Like birds which migrated south for the winter, Amina told everyone who listened that they'd migrated north for The Long Winter, one which would stretch on for years if care was not taken. Adnan was much too happy to move. Knowing they were leaving the danger of Abuja behind was the only thing which finally made him able to sleep. That, and the knowledge that Zainab was serving a life sentence. The charges leveled against her would have easily amounted to culpable homicide punishable with death, but an unknown party was said to have bribed the judge and reduced the charges to culpable homicide not punishable with death. Adnan had been ready to appeal, but Afrah assured him that