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MUJAHID











THERE ARE friends, there's family, and then there are friends that became family. But there isn't a word yet for families that remain friends.

Perhaps it's expected that family remains friends. But that's not always the case, and we all know.

Several families are in name only. But Mudathir is friend, and Mudathir is family.

"I can help you." He stated beside me gesturing to my cinnamon roll which I was saving to enjoy every bit of it in silence when everyone is quiet.

And with my brothers around Mudathir, it seems close to impossible.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Try me!"

I knew what he's capable of doing when it comes to cinnamon rolls so I simply kept quiet mulling over how I was going to deal with what was on my mind.

I was set to leave for Yola the next day, and unlike every other visits this time around I have a target. Lecturing at AUN was just an excuse. A pretty little excuse!.

"Look! Basit, Muhammad! Please go to your rooms." I finally voiced out having had enough. Why were they even in my room in the first place?

"Ina gaya maka Yaya Mudathir, you won't regret it." Mudi must've gotten scammed again but that was the least on my mind. It probably is another PS or sneakers or anything random that Mudathir allows Muhammad the pleasure of scamming him.

And I found myself hoping he'll allow me the pleasure of my little secret too. That could've been easier if I was denied any chance to try.

"So," Mudathir began. "What's on your mind?"

Of course, it's impossible for it to be unnoticeable. I mean this is someone I've spent my entire life with. I knew it was my chance to come clean.

"Remember the first time I went to Yola before Khair's wedding?" I chose the most neutral words to start my story with.

Hopefully, we remain friends even after he understood why I needed to tell him the story.

Family ties remains anyway, but I do not wish to lose the friendship between us.

~

Hajja's compound looks always the same anytime I visit and with Yola turning to my second home in the recent months, it feels almost like home every time.

The mother daughter duo have the same taste in flowers and the ambience in both homes does not really make one thinks it's different.

So when I pull off this time, I saw the difference immediately. An extra specie of a foreign flower that wasn't there before, scattered litters around the flowers and extra foot prints in the compound, the unusual position of almost everything in the compound spoke too loud. Someone is here, with kids precisely.

Before I could brainstorm who would visit in the hot weather of April, they revealed themselves.

"Uncle!" I heard the screams first and I knew immediately. Uncle Mikail is visiting.

"Annah! You are a big girl now!" I bent down to draw her cheeks and she dodged.

"Uncle, it's Amnah!"

"But the 'M' is silent"

"No, it is not. Just like when you pronounce 'Chimney' you pronounce my name as Amnah."

"But that sounds like Amina." I insisted.

"But you already say it like Amina." Okay, I was defeated at this point because I do not know how to respond to that. The way I say Annah does sound a little like Amina.

"Mujahid," Uncle Mikail stepped out of the door and I courtesied. "stop spoiling my daughters name. You can wait until you have yours and name her the way you like. I don't like what I don't like."

"Touché." I dismissed not wanting to dwell on it. I do not want another reminder the minute I landed in Yola hoping I've left the nagging behind in kano. I was already having a headache thinking about how I was going to survive his stay.

"She has grown so much since I saw her last." I commented.

"To the point that it's scary." He laughed. "I'm sad to lose that baby that looks so fragile when she was born. But who am I to say no?"

"Right... rub it on my face." I wanted to say.

My village people did got me this time.

"So,when did you arrive?" I asked. The answer to that should have been a particular time but trust uncle Mikail to bring everything back to flaunting his family.

"Well, my wife woke up one morning and decided the only thing she wanted to do is plan a trip to Nigeria and here we are. Two weeks gone and four more to come, we'll be here and I love her for that."

It's okay, I can handle it.

Or I thought I could.

I stepped inside to meet a full house. Hajja's sons were all visiting and it seems it's going to be a full house April.

Nevertheless, I went in to settle down and when it was time to unpack, I had the biggest shock of my life.

At first I thought I had misplaced the suitcase somehow until I saw my identity cards and I remembered that I was packing when my mother offered to complete it for me so I can run an errand for her.

My entire suitcase looks like colors had a fight.

I was still a bit okay until I saw a pink clothing tucked neatly away by the side and I slowly reached for it hoping it was something else but it was exactly what I was thinking. A pink tuxedo suit!

"It's Barbie season!" She blurted on the phone.

"What?" I was incredulous. " Mama, you mean you walked into a store to pick a pink tuxedo for your thirty four year old son? Really?"

"Well, Mujahid. That was supposed to be a gift. I mean I was only thinking of my son. I just wanted to..."

"And then you picked a pink tuxedo for a PhD holder, Mama?." I wasn't going to have it.

"What's wrong with a pink tuxedo? I just wanted to get something for my son." She says again but no emotional blackmail will work on me and make me wear pink because it's Barbie season.

"Mama,Hajia Aisha is downstairs." I heard someone say to her before I found my voice.

"I'm not your wife, stop complaining to me. Aisha is here, I need to go." She exclaimed and the call disconnected.

Now as I sat back down, I began to think what my life was worth. That my mum thought a pink tuxedo is a befitting gift for me.

~

Ina gaya maka: I'm telling you
Yaya: Elder bro or sis (used in cases where the person being addressed is older)

My head is down😩

I can't even say anything.

But,
InkLove,
Mi'ah 💕

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