The Untamed Storms~ On hold~

Chapter seven- Baba's guests

It was a day to Eid-el- fitr, the twenty ninth day of fasting. Ma Fatima was braiding my hair. We sat on a mat adjacent to Mama saratu's part of the house. I had a pencil between my fingers and was sketching.

It's been ten days since I left Khala Naazi's place. Luba almost cried when was leaving. I spent a week there and baba allowed me only for a few days, I had to return before he sent for me.

Mama saratu returned last week. I don't know how, but I woke up and saw her sweeping her dust covered room one morning. I didn't bother ask anyone regarding that matter.

Adam and Hajara were overjoyed. Their mother was back. It's astonishing to know that they consider her their role model, If only they knew, that inside her rib cage, is a blackened heart. It hints that she can never love someone, nor show care and affection. She's like that. She loves seeing the downfall of her family, and hatching conspiracies are a cakewalk for her.

But ever since she came back, she has neither spoke to nor fought with Ma fatima. But thinking she has turned over a new leaf is impossible. It's simply the calm before the leopard attacks.

The sound of Baba's sandals hitting the cemented floor made my head snap to his direction. He wore his shoes hastily and placed his Zanna Bukar cap on his almost bald head. He walked over to our direction.

"I'm expecting some important guests five days after Eid, i need you to take care of them properly, as they were very nice and generous to me in the past years.The guest room and Halima's room should be prepared for them to settle. And here..." He stated with authority, handing out notes of Naira to Ma Fatima

"If you need to buy anything, and Yes, ask me if you need more" he said

MaFatima looked flabbergasted. She stood up muttering something silently while wiping her hands with the ends of her wrapper. She hesitated, looking towards Mama Saratu that was picking grains of millet, before collecting the notes and counting them. "This is more than enough" she said and Baba looked shocked because everyone knew mama Saratu always collects more than enough money from him and still claims it's not enough to handle the whole household.

"Thank you" she said slowly in a low tone, probably so I wouldn't hear. "For making me capable of handing a responsibility" She loosened her wrapper and tied the money in a tight knot.

Baba pulled out some more notes from his pocket and handed to her while I watched like a spectator. "Here, buy something for yourself" he said and walked away.

MaFatima tied the notes remaining with the other end of her wrapper and continued to braid my hair, applying a generous amount of Shea butter to my scalp. She hummed to herself happily. She seems happy to be made worthy of handing a responsibility.

Mama Saratu was the one that handled everything in our household. Baba's trust in her had reached the sky. But now, I think that his trust in her lessened.

****

It was Eid. The whole city was full of impish gleeful children, running from one neighborhood to another, eating delicacies and playing joyfully. Eid is everyone's favorite day, as they get to wear new clothes, and eating and socializing.

But I wasn't happy this Eid. I wasn't anticipating the beautiful skirt and blouse that lay on my bed well ironed, nor the glittery duppatta that lay untouched since Khala Naazi gave it to me as my Eid gift when I was leaving ten days earlier.

My mind was stuck thinking about one thing only.

Fakir.