ALKALI AMANA'S BOARD: Arewa Love


Hello,
Welcome to the New Year Tellrheaders. Let's begin with a story...

AREWA LOVE

1

Yes! There were times when we danced the rain dance. And, we would gather in front of Kaka to tell a tale of two cities, or a random 'Tatsuniya'. I can't remember when but I know our palms once locked all through got sweaty and we felt some warmth in our hold.
Time and number, we played the Mother and Father serenade, cooking with sand, using dolls as children, having a car of sardine tins, and we loved our actions in such simulation. We longed forward to growing up and having a family of our own. But, not this way, not the way Farida was taken. I feel my eyes gather steam at the thought. Farida was always the one I liked. 
Then, we began to grow. Height, weight, body, puberty, and she was the fairest of them all. At 14, Farida was starting to learn Womanhood.
However, the narrative changed when Alhaji Umar came into the picture. My emotions betray me now. This is my account, but not now, I can't continue, even as I remember now that she is dead. I am not strong to continue, maybe next time.

2

The leaf has been turned over as I eat breakfast now. I gain enough strength to sway my emotions. I am willing to think about it. Now, I remember myself. My name is Khalid Baba Sani, and here is my account.
The year is 2008, and I am 17 years old. Looking at its genesis now, I see January 2007, the previous year when Alhaji Umar went to see her parents. Alhaji Umar was a short man with a dour countenance, but he had made enough money to be called wealthy, wealthy enough to share 1000 bags of rice after each Hajj to Mecca (the Holy City). He had contested for the senatorial position of our constituency once and even though he had failed, he was a politician with much influence. Farida's father was a gardener to his second wife, Zara, and I am sure that it was on one of her numerous afternoon visits to give her father lunch that Alhaji got to know her.
"Alhaji Umar came for me" She reported to me that windy January evening. Harmattan at its rising ebb.
I was quite dumbfounded "Why" I finally found strength to ask, but it wasn't the right question. I couldn't find it.

Join us next week to continue, and don't forget to comment 👌.

👤: Alkali Amana

Email: alkaliamana@gmail.com
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