Jamal
"Mom, I'm already on my way...Yes, I just landed at the airport...The driver's taking me home... No, don't worry, I'm sure I'll be able to recognize Mr. Shehu... I'll see you in a few." I hang up, take my bag, and walk towards the cars parked outside the airport.
I immediately recognize the driver and in a few minutes, I'm being whisked off to my parents' house. My home...
The city of Lagos hasn't changed a bit since I last visited, and that was almost a year ago, during my younger brother's birthday. The flight from the U.S. was pretty tiring, and soon the jetlag will set in. I stare out the car window, wondering what's so important that my parents had me on the next plane heading home; alone. Usually, whenever there was anything urgent, they'd ask both my sister and I to come. If you're wondering where I'm from, then I mean the land of the ever blazing sun, rich in cultures, traditions and so many native languages; Africa. My homeland is just one of the west African countries.
After completing high school here, my dad shipped my sister and I off to the U.S. to complete our studies, then to handle the family company, which belongs to him and our uncle Najib.
Being CEO of an architectural company at just 25 wasn't a big deal to me, though the process was long and hard. I'd finished my education pretty fast, my brains and hard work paid off, and I'd started from scratch, till I'd gained my way to the top. And since it's a family business, I'm not alone in doing all the work.
So lost in thoughts, I didn't even notice we'd gotten home. The driver gets out with my bags, taking them into the house.
"Oh, my baby!" Mom walks towards me, her arms outstretched. Oh boy! Here comes the hug. I brace myself as my mom gives me a grizzly hug, almost choking me, I hug her back. Let's face it, I'm a mama's boy, though I'm not the last child. You should see how she dotes over Jahid, my younger brother who's currently in a secondary school at Abuja.
"I've missed you too mom." I say after she releases me.
"My Allah! Look at you, you've grown so much since I last saw you." She exclaims.
Eh! Not really, I was home 8 months ago for Jahid's birthday, and I'm still 6'0 feet tall.
"I haven't grown a bit mom, except if you count the toned muscles and abs." I tease her as we go into the house.
"Where's dad and how's Jahid?" I ask.
"Oh. Your father's at work. It's Thursday of course, so he has some paper work to go through today... but don't worry, he'll be back soon and Jahid is doing well in school. Now go up your room and freshen up." She says and walks to the kitchen.
"Brother Jamal!" An excited voice yells out my name, and I turn to meet Hafsah and Aunt Asma'u walking towards me in a rush. They both look like they could hug me to death right now if they could.
Hafsah and aunt Asma'u have been with us for as long as I can remember. They're more like family than househelps to us; they're like a sister and aunt to me. I greet them warmly, staying with them for a little chat before excusing myself.
I climb the stairs up my room, and a fresh scent of lavender hits me. Everything looks neat and tidy. Pretty sure mom sent Hafsah to clean up.
Moving the curtains, I get hit in the face with the strong and hot rays of the sun. I sigh, the African sun, how I've missed you.
Being in the U.S. got me away from this scorching hot weather.
My friends there always ask me how being an African feels like, how life is, here. Well, it's different alright, just so different from the West.
I already miss the the usual hustle and bustle of the New York street, and gazing down from my office window at the company. It always intrigues me how different it is over there, people just go about their business, everyone with an agenda. 'Things to do, and places to be'. But here, you see the children playing on the dirt road, with wide smiles and dirt stained clothes, women chatting and men talking about the latest sports and politics.
"There's nothing like home I guess" I mutter to myself. Stepping away, I go freshen up in the bathroom, then perform salat since it's already time and finally lie on my bed to sleep.
"Jamal... Jamal, wake up son, it's time for dinner" I hear my mom call in a foggy voice. "Jamal... Jamal, get up." she continues to shake me gently.
Getting up, I find out it's already past 6.
Damn it! How did I sleep that long? I guess I could blame the jet lag, and the flight was really long.
"Thanks for waking me mom." I rub my eyes "I would've slept through the night. Is dad back?" My voice's all sleepy and a bit groggy.
"He's back, and we'll be waiting for you downstairs in an hour for dinner."
"Yes mom", I say and she leaves.
An hour later, I climb downstairs to the dining room to meet a fancy dish on the table.
"Mmm! Something smells good." I kiss mom on the forehead and take a seat.
"You'll have to thank Asma'u for that, she would have cooked up a buffet if I hadn't stopped her," Mom says with a smile.
"Well, in that case," I get up from my chair and seek out aunt Asma'u, thanking her for the warm food plus a little compliment to make her blush. I leave the kitchen laughing, glad to have succeeded. Later on, she and Hafsah join us at the table.
At the corner of my eye, I notice my dad coming down from the stairs as well.
"Jamal," he acknowledges me with a smile.
"Dad, how've you been?" Getting up, I give him a side hug. He slaps me on the back in return and laughs.
"Fine son, absolute fine. And I'll be even better now you're here."
His words grips me a bit. What did he mean by that? It probably shows on my face because mom holds my wrist and sits me down.
"Calm down son...let's eat." She sits too.
"What's going on? You never told me over the phone why you needed me back home so suddenly...Is everything okay?" I babble off, looking from mom to dad, searching their faces. Even Hafsah and aunt Asma'u avoid my gaze, choosing to concentrate on their plates.
"Nothing is wrong son. Besides you just arrived, we'll tell you everything tomorrow In sha Allah (if Allah wills) dad assures me.
Great! Like that'll actually settle the nerves.
"Eat Jamal. Everything's fine...really" mom pats my hand, smiling. I'll believe that tomorrow.
Trying to be at ease, I settle down to enjoy the meal. It's been a really long time since I ate traditional food.
When dinner's over, everyone retires for the night. It gets really quiet in the house, which makes me miss New York even more, the city that never sleeps, I call it.
I offer my salat and take out my phone, scrolling through my emails and messages.
People have always been surprised when I introduce myself as an African, they usually think I'm African-American, because my skin colour isn't too dark.
First they go off, "you're African? Like 100% African?" Then, "and you're a Muslim too?" It'd surprise me how little they knew, like Islam being one of the leading religion in Africa is news to them.
I call some of my buddies and inform them the reason for my impromptu departure. Next off, the people at the office. After getting a good report from them, I settle down for a good night sleep. Fluffing my pillow, my mind drifts to tomorrow's news. I wonder what they're going to tell me. With that, I sleep off, all previous thoughts going to rest.
********
How was that chapter? What'd you think is soooo important that papa and mama Jamal wanted him home badly?
:-) do you think it's worth finding out? Hehe! Stick around and see......
Like, vote and comment please. Don't forget.......
Keep smiling, keep living and be happy BOOKZILLAS!
*cringes* can I call you that?.....oh well! I should stop rambling.
-Your fellow bookzilla,
-PrimroseMari :-P
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Our Stormy Ride
Spiritual#1 Ar-Rahma Series Their names were written down together long before the universe had been created. Life throws them at each other. They collide. An arranged marriage. Their Stormy Ride. For Nadia Ali, life was just as ordinary as a plain white cl...
