Flawed Perfection

Chapter Sixteen: Serene Storm

August 2008.
Abuja, Nigeria.

Every step was faltered by fear and hesitation as Aisha walked towards Gwaggo and Baba Auwal. Flames of fury sifted through Gwaggo's eyes with every stride that brought Aisha closer, like she couldn't wait to cage her where her saggy flesh could reach.

Oh Aisha, you're so dead, you've never been this dead!

"Sannu." Gwaggo started. " Sannu kinji?" Her tone was swollen with fury and sarcasm.

"Ina wuni Gwaggo?" Aisha greeted, surprised at how the words fought the loud noise of resentment that sifted through her senses.

"Banaso!" Gwaggo yelled in irritation. "Keep your greetings to yourself!"

The words registered well in her head. Knowing better than to waste another pleasantry, Aisha proceeded to open the door.

Abdullah appeared shortly after, carrying plastic bags filled with God knows what.

They entered through the main door and sat in the living room. Abdullah handed Aisha the bags that contained ten pieces of everything and exchanged pleasantries with Gwaggo and Baba Auwal while she struggled against the weight of the bags to his door, all the while trying to calm her sour and racing heart. If the day hadn't turn out as it did, maybe she would have found humour in watching Abdullah deal with his supplies.

Now nothing made sense to her as she strode towards the fridge_ her step grand mother looked like she could use some modest amount of chilled water or malt.

Anything that would quench the spreading fire in her heart.

"Salaamu Alaykum." Aisha said, walking into the living room with a tray containing a sweating bottle of malt and two medium cartons of chi exotic.

"Wa alaykumu Salam." They answered in unison and Aisha instantly realized Islam was indeed beautiful. It didn't matter what the issue was, or who the person saying the tasleem is, answering it was obligatory.

But that was the last thing a girl who would certainly die today, in the hands of an old woman with completely greyed hair and slightly limped steps that rooted from age should think about.

For starters, realization dawned on Aisha that life was both cruel and short at the same time as she played with the Hem of her wide Abaya hand.

"Sannu Gwaggo." Abdullah said for the millionth time in a single evening.

"Sannu." She answered curtly.

"Gwaggo," He began and Aisha realized it wouldn't matter if Abdullah was pronouncing red, or calling her name or anyone else's. Every word from him was accented, in a way that made every letter on his tongue sound like a sole creation of his. "I am really sorry for not bringing Aisha to you after that day we brought Fatima home. I have been really busy with work." His words were without a doubt, worth a good drool and Aisha would get caught in the act and still be considered sane. After all, Abdullah was the subject of it, he would make her forget her name even if he was ruthlessly asking her to just die.

Then again, it should be the last thing a girl like her should notice about Abdullah. Not when she would die and be burried in less than a few minutes.

"May Allah bless you. Ai Kai there is nothing you have not done for us. We can only pray for you." Baba Auwal confirmed Aisha's thoughts.

It didn't take long before Abdullah excused himself and Aisha was left with double fury_ filled eyes that had every intention of burying her alive.

"Ina wuni Aisha?" Baba Auwal greeted sarcastically. "Ina wuni Baba, an wuni lapiya? "