Due For Inheritance (D. U. I)

Chapter 5

Then, Muhammad put out his other leg and stood to his full height. ‘This is the kind of welcoming he expected, since he’s also as important as the royalties who receives such treatment’. He thought.

He was delayed by an impromptu business deal, so he couldn’t arrive early for Jumah prayer but came later in the evening and hoped to join the congregation for Maghrib prayer and give a brief lecture afterwards. He would have postponed his visit to the following day since it was late but his mum had always told him that a man of integrity keep to his words and that’s a virtue that he had kept with him always. He’s a man of his words and honors his promise no matter the circumstances which was why he made the journey today even if it was late.

After about an hour of playing the kakaki, singing of his praises, and him pretending that they were making him uncomfortable, it was time for Maghrib prayer. The Muadhin called to prayer and everyone dispersed to move to the mosque for prayer. That was one thing he admired about the Northerners, they were a very religious lot. He can bet that if he were at the south-west side, only few people would have left for prayer.

The Salat was said by the Imam and a brief announcement was made in Nupe language. Though he didn’t understand the language but he could guess that whatever was being said concerned him because the Jamaah kept looking at him.

After the Imam finished with his speech, he was invited to come forward by the imam through hand gesture. He looked lost on what to do since the majority of the congregation didn’t speak his language. He had expected almost everyone to speak English language since it was Nigeria’s official language but even the Imam didn’t understand the language and if he had known earlier, he would have brought a translator along with him but he hoped that a person among the congregation should be able to help him out with the communication issue, all he needed was how to pass that bit of information across.

He quickly brought out his phone while smiling at the Jamaah waiting for him at the mimbar and placed a call to the person he had asked to help him circulate the message that he would be coming over for a visit. while the receiver stated his absence as the reason he wouldn't be able to help me out with translation, he asked him to call out a name, Baasim. He was assured that if he was around, he would assist in translating his message.

Muhammad did as instructed, expecting an older person to show up, Instead, he was surprised when a frail looking boy answered him. The boy got up on his feet to walk towards him. He looked so unkempt and lanky that while he moved on his feet, Muhammad was tempted to meet him halfway just to reduce his effort in walking because he looked like he won’t make it to the front row. There was no doubt that the poor boy had witnessed several hungry moments and still come to the mosque to observe his prayer.

Muhammad immediately felt ashamed. This is one of the people he had come to assist and provide for, yet he had wasted time moving to the tune of kakaki when every second of delay counted in the lives of these people.

He asked the boy to be his translator and he replied in a very bad English. ‘Half bread is better than none’, he had thought. He gave a brief lecture on the importance of giving in charity and the boy helped him translate. At first he noticed that the translation was taking too long but he eventually realized that the boy might have been speaking in two different languages.

After the lecture, he asked the boy to wait behind for him before meeting with the imam and relieving himself of all he brought with him to give out in charity. Afterwards, he met with the boy he had kept waiting. The boy was pacing when he met him and when he asked for the reason of his discomfort. He looked pained when he replied him.

“My father is home alone”. He had replied. Muhammad didn’t understand why that should be a source of discomfort.

“Is he sick anywhere?” He asked further.

“Of course not, he replied. But he’s disabled and can’t do anything without me”.

The boy said it so naturally that Muhammad almost envied him. He didn’t look angry or uncomfortable talking about his father like most people would have been when speaking to whom they think was an important figure.

“I don’t want to keep you waiting then…” He replied realizing that he hadn’t learned the name of the boy.
He seemed to catch the hint and supplied his name. “Baasim sir”. He said and Muhammad simply nodded his head.

He got into his car and brought out a sealed envelope and gave it to Baasim. “This is for you, he started. Take care of yourself and your father with it”.

He opened his car door a second time and gave him his business card. “Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything at all. Insha Allah, I’ll provide to my capability and I hope we meet again soon”.

Baasim showed his gratitude, beaming from ear to ear and left him in a hurry, definitely towards his home.

Muhammad looked at the retreating figure till he could no longer see him before entering his car and driving off to lodge in a hotel. He felt happier helping the boy than when he gave money and material things to the Imam to be shared among the members of the community and he couldn’t explain the reason to himself.

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Till we meet again ☺️