Flawed Perfection

Chapter Fourteen: Enrobed Confessions

July, 2008.
Abuja, Nigeria.

"Come on Aisha. Not again." Abdullah facepalmed and Aisha stared blankly at him.

"Don't tell me you forgot to leave the knife in the store room again. What did you open this time?" He strode further, a stoic expression on his  face. Aisha rose her eyebrows in confusion.

"Sorry about my wife." He smiled apologetically at Fatima. "You see how much of her I take on a daily basis erh?" He added, crouching before Aisha to carry the knife.

"It's okay. I guess it's normal to miss a couple of large strides a day." She aired, laying emphasis on 'large strides' obviously not buying Abdullah's stunt for a presentable price. 

The rest of the evening passed by, thickened by unspoken words and heavy emotions. It was one of those moments where you thought you knew someone so well only to get slapped in the face by some enormous reality that changes the entire picture.

In Aisha's case, she wasn't dissapointed. Neither was she trying to convince Fatima that the situation was anything other than what she'd witnessed by playing along with Abdullah's game.

Somewhere between the paths and tunnels in life she'd taken up traits that never settled within her, she'd been created a part of a reality she was still having a hard time accepting. But everything was what it was, and every human was entitled to personal judgements, that was a right she would not strip away from Fatima and the world in entirety, at least she respected them that much.

Muhammad arrived in no time, saving the day and Aisha.

She escorted Fatima to Hajiya's then beeded her good-bye after exchanging pleasantries with Hajiya and Baba.
Fatima obviously expected more than a blank expression and a wordless evening but that single scene had broken Aisha's growing excitements and expectations.

It just dawned on her that she was growing comfortable with a life that didn't belong to people like her and she knew it needed to stop before it reached it's high, before she opened her eyes only to find herself stranded on a gable roof, where the only thing that would make sense would be toppling from it's height.

And even as a child, Aisha had never been dumbfounded enough to find satisfaction in the pop of a real_life bubble. When she walked through the doors and casually found Abdullah seated in the living room, with a back rested against the chair, Aisha knew exactly what she needed to do. She knew Abdullah Umar Kallamu needed to set her free before it was too late.

"Give it back." She aired coldly, her eyes dauntless enough to kill a man.

"Do you carry this around because of me?" He asked, his words heavy from hurt. Making sure to avoid eye contact, he raised the knife.

"Give it back." The words came out in a deflated whisper this time, like saying more would break her till she heard the sound of every bone in her body cracking in the air.

"Can you please be honest with me?" Abdullah asked, his tone soft and delicate on her, Aisha folded her arms to her chest and bit down her lower lip and Abdullah didn't know if she was caging the words or a sob. Whatever it was, he knew Aisha was like a time bomb waiting to explode. But all he wanted were real reasons, maybe a million and one more that screamed for him to let her go. Who knew? Maybe Abdullah Umar Kallamu would listen this one time.

"I said give it back." Her tone was determined and stern this time.

"Do I scare you so much?"

"Please..." She closed her eyes only for the liquid she'd been holding back to roll down her right cheek. "Give it back." Aisha repeated with more plea in her eyes, she reached out to her face and wiped it with her hand. It made Abdullah wonder how many times she'd done that for her to master the act so well.