First times are special and unique. But the last times are beyond comparison. They are priceless. But people don't normally know it's their last time.
*****
Welcome Home
The evening sun was about to set when the plane touched down at Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport, Abuja at about five O'clock. The moment Zayn stepped his feet on the soil of his father's land he immediately felt the difference in weather compared to the one he was used to. The air around him was thick and the scorching gaze of the sun was already picking at his skin. Without a second thought, he sorted out his shades from his pocket, had them on, and slowly began to take some elegant steps away from the runway.
The airport terminal was usually a very busy place. With many people constantly moving about the place like a nest of ants, the nerve-wracking noise of shoes of different sorts tapping against the floor, and the unending murmur of the passengers. None of these mattered to him. The first and only thing that caught his attention was: a pair of honey-brown eyes smiling at him from afar.
His eyes turned to the female with long dark brown hair swept over one shoulder as she walked majestically, taking nice steps toward him. He'd recognize that brown hair anywhere, anywhere in the world.
Miss Aylin, a Turkish woman, and Omar had been the first to sight Zayn and immediately began to approach him. They were only able to distinguish him from the crowd because of his usual attire. He was dressed up in a black kandura(a thobe) and a black double-layer egal (a solid headband) worn over a red checkered pattern ghutrah ( a scarf worn by Arabian men). Perhaps, Zayn had not acknowledged Omar, his cousin's brother's presence while he was still smiling at Aylin who had captivated his attention.
Aylin, excited and overwhelmed by the majesty of her Emirati prince, increased her pace, walking ahead of Omar (khalifah) just so she could be the first to grace him with her greetings. She was one of the very few women with whom Zayn was acquainted and associated with. It's been over three years and some months since they've known each other.
During those three years, he had grown very fond of her because they shared the same interests and opinions in almost every aspect of life. And despite not being able to cover like every other woman of the religion she still appeared to him as more modest in her mode of dressing than thousands of women on the planet. They first met at a library in San Francisco and ever since then, they've spent almost every weekend together until she came back to Nigeria three months ago.
"Assalaam Alaikum." She greeted him as he approached her. That was perhaps one of the most brilliant native Arab accents he had heard in a while. They had taken two years of online Arabic Language courses together during their stay in the USA. To think that someone who had just learned a language online wasn't only able to speak but also mimic the accent.
"Alaikum assalaam." He extended a hand towards her for a shake which she elegantly took into her palm.
"Marhaban, hayyak Allah Zayn (welcome, welcome Zayn)." She said in Arabic language, smiling ever so brightly.
"Shukran Jazillan ( Thank you very much)." He replied as he took in her appearance. She wore a maroon chiffon blouse with loose sleeves that were fitted around the wrist and perfectly tucked into a pair of black Palazzo trousers. Her black heels were about four inches high.
"Afwan (you're welcome)"She replied and they let go of each other's hands.
"mabsut innee shaftak taanee (it's nice to see you again)." Shifting his gaze from her, Zayn lifted his head to a very familiar voice, greeting him from across.
"Assalamualaikum ya akhi (Peace be unto you, my brother)." It was his intimate friend and cousin, Omar. He was taking long strides towards them like the tall Fulani (a tribe in northern Nigeria) man that he was. Zayn smiled at him.
"Wa Alaikum Salaam ya khalifa (And may peace be unto you khalifa)" They shook hands and then he pulled Zayn into a brotherly hug, patting him lightly on the back. It felt like the old days. When they were much younger he would force Zayn to hug him instead of shaking hands with each other because he knew how much his cousin hated hugs. Zayn couldn't resist hugging him today because they were grown-ups now and since they hadn't seen each other for so long.
Omar used to say that the bond only got stronger when they embraced each other brotherly rather than with a mere handshake. It was the absolute truth he spoke.
"How is everyone?" Zayn asked.
"They are all fine," Khalifa assured him. "They're all waiting for your return at home, with the exception of father." Zayn was unsure which of the fathers his cousin was talking about. Was it his father or Abu khalifa(khalif's father, the current Emir of Kano.)
"Which of the fathers?" Omar very well understood this question.
"Both of them."Omar smiled and thought it funny how his cousin was acting all cool and mature in his choice of words. He has always been like that but it was a little extra this time. Zayn was always the cool-headed one in their little clique. Well, what do you know? Old habits die hard.
Zayn knew that his uncle couldn't leave his throne and travel down to Abuja and his father, the professor, was never around. He was always out doing experiments of some sort.
As a child, Zayn grew up to acknowledge his father's obsession with work. He couldn't begin to list the countless times his father chose work over family. He didn't want to end up like his father, he didn't want to regret anything in life sooner or later. That is why he disciplined himself to carry the family responsibilities however stressful they may be. For him, it was always better to sacrifice what you have than take unnecessary risks that might cost you your life or that of a family member or something worse than that.
The three of them managed a small conversation as they strode out of the main exit to somewhere around the airport where the cars were parked. Zayn was glad to hear that it was only the both of them that had come to pick him up at the airport. Earlier he had imagined the whole family coming down to the airport to welcome him. That would be ridiculous but not impossible because he knew very well the kind of relatives he had and the effect he had on them.
Once they reached the cars, Omar sneaked into his car, one of his numerous cars actually, a sleek red compact SUV where he had informed his cousin that he had a meeting to catch up with the board. Mondays were very busy days for Omar as he had to spend extra hours at work.
"Later man, we'll talk more when I get back. I'll hit you up once I'm done." Omar assured his cousin.
"Alright bro, I'll see you around."And with that Omar pulled off to the driveway and drove off.
A man of average height, who looked like he was in his mid-forties stepped down from the other car, a White-on-white Bugatti. Thomas, who looked like someone who had escaped albinism or was probably a semi-albino was Zayn's manservant and personal driver.
"Welcome, Sir." He greeted his boss and took his stuff to the boot. Perhaps his boss didn't carry much load. The only possession he had with him was just a briefcase containing all his documents and achievements. Zayn gave him a quick reply and took the back seat next to Aylin.
Moments of silence passed, in which they drove onto the free highway. Miss Aylin stared out the window and watched as the airport disappeared from their view while Zayn studied the environment. He loved the serene nature of the city.
Aylin didn't fail to notice the awkward silence that played in the air and felt the need to break it, but just when she was about to speak, Zayn's thick voice shook the air, making her mind skip for a moment.
"So, why are you here?" he said firmly. "You didn't tell me you were coming"
"I did...the last time we spoke on the phone."She didn't know if he was disappointed at her coming because of his firm expression. She had always known him to be unpredictable.
"I honestly didn't think that you'd come."His expression had softened a little. She crooked a smile seeing that his mood had changed. Aylin didn't know that she was the reason behind the sudden change in his mood.
He thought that she deserved much more than a mere handshake for keeping to her promise. That was one thing they both had in common, they always kept to their promises. Perhaps that was yet another reason he liked her. Zayn personally hated breaking promises, that was part of his conviction.
"I almost couldn't make it, but Alhamdulillah I made it on time when Thomas was about to leave the house. We met your cousin already waiting for you at the airport," she explained.
"Hey! How did you know his name?" Zayn asked Wondering how she knew the name of his manservant.
"Well, I've been writing about the royal family." She beamed, waiting to see his reaction, and as usual, his expression was neutral.
"I see, what have you been writing about my family?"
"A lot." She told him about everything that she had written so far. She had been on the project for a month now. She explained to him how she enjoyed spending time interacting with his family members, and of course, they were lovely and classy. Finally, she pleaded with him to help her continue the project because she could not work on it alone without a guide. He was the perfect man for the job, since they had known each other for a long time, they'd have no trouble getting along. And he had full knowledge of their cultural ethics and heritage being the heir apparent to the throne. He accepted her request, as usual, he just couldn't say no because of who she was to him.
*****
The ride from the airport to Ali's took about thirty minutes. Thomas drove through a large gate that was made of silver metal into the large compound of the Ali's mansion which was at least two storeys tall. Thomas pulled up at the garage and quickly alighted, rushing to open the door for his master but before he could reach the door his master had already shot the door behind. So, he rushed to the other side to help Miss Aylin with the door, upon noticing that she was struggling with the door. Before heading to the boot to grab his boss's stuff.
Stepping out of the garage, Zayn couldn't believe his eyes, everything had changed. Just how much things had changed around here, was it the palms that had grown even taller than the building? Was it the ornamental flowers that had grown into small bushes? Was it the evergreen carpet grass that used to be scanty? Or was it the garden that spanned the building with conspicuous flowers?
He took bold steps, walking ahead of Thomas and Aylin. By now she was already used to Zayn always walking ahead of her and leaving her behind.
Zayn was about to enter the main building when his younger sister, Aliya walked out of the house, smiling as her eyes fell on him. "Yaya ya dawo (big brother is back)" She announced, rushing to her beloved brother whom she had missed so much for so long. "Sannu da daowa ( welcome back), How was the journey?" She asked, engulfing him in a bone-crushing hug.
"It was splendid, alhamdulillah." He trailed off because of the ear-piercing shriek that he had just heard, followed by a loud scream of some sort. His relatives, some with whom he had zero acquaintance and others he was very familiar with were all storming towards him, shrieking benevolently.
He was overwhelmed with a mixed feeling of joy and resentment and thought it was a wound on his pride to take all those multiple hugs that were coming for him. Zayn was never a hugger, he had only shared a hug with khalifa and Aliya because of the close relationship he had with them.
Zayn pulled away from Aliya the moment he spotted his grandmother from amongst the older women. Everyone gave way to Grandma Innajo as she delicately sauntered to her favorite grandson and embraced him in a fragile but tight hug and by God, they were adorable.
All his childhood memories with Grandma came rushing back to him as he held her in his arms for a while before releasing grandma.
"Look at you my child, Masha Allah, Maasha Allah, Maashaaa Allah! ( Thanks be to God)." She exclaimed repeatedly and thought the boy had grown into a handsome young man. He had to bend his face a little so grandma could hold his face in her palm. Even so, Grandma still had to stretch to reach him. Her touch felt so soft and delicate even now and then.
"Oh! Inna, how I've missed you" He placed his hand on hers, caressing it against his face with his eyes closed.
"I've missed you more" Grandma was on the verge of breaking into tears when He opened his eyes.
"No Inna, don't do that in front of me, you know I can't help it." He said genuinely, smiling, and pulled her into another warm hug.
"What about me? Who missed me?" A tiny voice interrupted. That was Banu, Zayn's mother. She wore a cute smile as she marched to her son who was suffocating his grandma with his strong grip. Zayn's smile grew even wider on lifting his head to see his mum. He placed a hand around her and pulled her in while Grandma broke free from his grip.
"Don't I deserve any of those 'I miss you' sentimental moments too?" Banu asked playfully.
"Please tell her that I miss her cooking Inna." He turned to his grandmother as he let loose of his mother.
"She is right in front of you, why don't you tell her yourself." Grandma wiped away the tears from the corner of her eyes, still feeling sentimental about her grandson's return.
"So, it is my cooking you missed and not me." Banu formed a pitiful face and pretended to wipe a fake tear from her eye. Zayn intentionally didn't want to plant a kiss on her forehead in front of other members of the family, especially in front of Aylin. He was secretly embarrassed by public displays of affection.
"No, that's not true. I missed you, the cooking, and everyone else in general." He completed, wrapping an arm around his mother as they walked side by side.
"What are you made off Zayn, I'm aching all over. Your grip has crushed all the bones in my body" Grandma joked and everyone laughed, sauntering into the house.
Zayn scanned the small crowd and his eyes laid on Aylin as she watched everyone in silence, quietly observing them as they all spoke on top of each other's voices in such a way that none could be heard clearly. Everyone was trying to talk to Zayn or at least touch his kandura. The little kids were no exception as they all chorus his name running around without direction. How adorable, What a beautiful family reunion.
"The sun is down, you can take off the glasses now, Count Dracula (his sobriquet back in high school)," Aliya whispered in her older brother's ear.
"Is that a good way to welcome your beloved brother?" Zayn crooked a brow at her.
"Don't look at me like that, isn't that what they used to call you? I just happened to remember." She shrugged playfully. He shook his head at her and started greeting the older members of the extended family, starting with the men. At this moment they were all inside the palace size living room.
After all the formalities and greetings with other members of the family, he looked around and noticed that someone was missing.
Where is she? She should be around somewhere. he thought to himself.
"I'm tired, I wanna go freshen up." He informed his mother and excused himself from the crowd.
"Alright son, better hurry before your food gets cold." She replied quietly.
"Tell Yasmeen and the others to set the dining table" Banu ordered Aliya. "quickly," she commanded on noticing how sluggish Aliya was with her pace.
"It's okay mum, it's only Zayn. It's not the president." Zayn heard that and smiled at his jealous sister as he made his way to his old room. He knew that name, Yasmeen sounded pretty familiar but couldn't just remember who she was.
*****
When he stepped into his room after twelve years of living in a foreign country he was perplexed at what he saw. He just couldn't believe that everything was just the way he had left it, only that it was unusually clean and his wardrobe was as well organized as he had wished.
This is her handiwork. She has been cleaning this place after I was gone for twelve years
Zayn took a quick shower and slipped into a pair of loose jeans and a Navy blue kaftan. Good thing, he had his clothes shipped down weeks before his arrival, otherwise, he'd be wearing his clothes from twelve years ago, which would probably fit him by now.
There was a soft knock on the door. "Who is there?" He questioned, all thoughts leading to Aylin.
"Mother wants you at the dining." Aliya's irritating voice killed his vibes.
"Just go away." He frowned, even though he couldn't understand why he was annoyed at that moment.
"Alright then, I'll just tell her you said that. And by the way, your girlfriend is leaving. She said to inform you." His frown grew deeper.
"I said go away, baka ( Japanese word for idiot)." His voice was thick. Aliya knew better than to make away while she still lived.
Her brother might have changed physically but his temper was still the same.
Why does she want to leave now? She should have at least texted me instead of sending that moron to me
Zayn didn't want Aylin to leave yet, not until she had dinner with them but looking at the time, it was almost Maghrib (Islamic prayer by sunset) period and it was inappropriate for a woman to be outside by this time. On realizing that his mood softened a little.
He applied some cologne and headed out of his room. By the time he got outside Aylin was almost at the garage where she had parked her car, a black Ferrari Monza SP1.
"So, you were just gonna leave without saying goodbye." She was startled again by his voice.
"Hey... you're out already." She turned around.
"You couldn't wait a little longer so that I could at least see you off to your car."
"It's already late. Besides, you must be exhausted from all that stress. I just didn't wanna stress you any further." Zayn saw the distress in her eyes and the way she spoke and so tilted his face towards hers.
"That's not true. You were feeling uncomfortable and probably couldn't stick around any longer since you've been ignored by almost everyone ever since we got here." She stayed quiet because he was right, but that wasn't the only reason she had decided to leave. If only Zayn knew that Aylin had received a warning threat from one of his family members.
"I guess you're right but still it's running late... and if I don't leave now I'll probably be getting home by eleven because of traffic. And you know how strict Uncle Abduljabbar is. He doesn't take lateness lightly."She explained after a small silence, giving him the benefit of the doubt.
"Okay, I'll let this one slide only because it's past six and you shouldn't be out by this time as a woman and I don't want you getting into trouble with your uncle." He proved to her that he was smart enough to know she was hiding something.
"I'll call you once I get home." Zayn noticed her struggling with the car door and helped her open it, brushing his hand against hers. That was when he noticed the white paper bag in her hand.
"Oh, it's kilishi(a local spicy barbecue)." She told him in an exaggerated tone when she noticed him staring at the paper. "Aunty Banu had packaged some for me." With that, she entered the car.
"My regards to your uncle." He said over the windshield.
"I will, ilal liqah ya zayn(till we meet again Zayn)
"Ma'as salaam(good-bye)." He waved at her with one hand tucked in his pocket. He strode back inside once she drove out of the gate. Zayn had sensed someone watching him as he strode inside but decided to ignore it.
*****
Almost everyone had left the house. Only a few of the extended family members who had come from afar and probably won't make it back home tonight were left. Everyone was in the dining all seated waiting for Zayn's arrival.
"Where is Umma (my mother)?" He asked, noticing that his stepmother was still missing from the gathering.
"I'm here." A lady in a black Jilbab(full-length hijab) was coming to the dining area with a small tray containing fruits of all kinds.
"I didn't see you earlier, Umma. Where were you?" Umma was the name he called his stepmum.
"I was in the kitchen preparing your favorite meal." His stepmother beamed even though Zayn didn't have a favorite meal.
"Here have some fruit. You must be hungry and tired." She took a slice of apple which was Zayn's favorite fruit from the tray and fed it to her stepson.
He took a bite from it and chewed quietly. "I saw your handiwork, Umma. Thank you." He said in between chews.
"I should be thanking you for returning to us. Do you have any idea how much I've missed you?" Umma said, aiming for a hug. Of course, he readily embraced her and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.
"Please don't make mum jelly."Aliya playfully protested.
"My mum is a queen, she doesn't have a jealous heart, unlike some people."
"Yasmeen, can you please help me dish out the food?" Banu, Zayn's mum, called out to an ebony black lady who was also present at the table.
"Yes, ma... I'm on it." Yasmeen spoke in an amazing tone that even Aliya had never heard before. Aliya looked at her and gave her a 'what is going on kind of look. She ignored her and began to serve Zayn first, that was when he acknowledged her presence.
He took in her appearance and thought she was beautiful for a black woman. "Thank you." He showed his gratitude just when she finished dishing out the food. She adjusted her Shailah(headscarf) and pretended to be shy. Aliya secretly laughed at the way her friend was acting.
He looked around and saw that he was the only man at the table. The others were all women and girls." Where did all the men go?" He finally realized that even his younger brother wasn't at the table.
"You mean where did all the boys go because the real men have come and gone." Zayn's sister was talking nonsense before Grandma chipped in:
"The boys are out to get drinks."
"Drinks for what?"
"For the party on Saturday.." Said Banu. Zayn raised a questioning brown knowing where the conversation was heading. He had told his mum a few weeks ago before his coming that he didn't want any party or gathering when his mother called to inform him about the party preparation.
"So you guys are throwing me a party." He dropped his spoon and focused his attention on his mother. "I thought I told you people not to host anything on my behalf."Mood swings. Another thing he hated was parties and social gatherings.
"This is my party, not yours. I'm hosting it on your behalf. You don't have to be present. You can stay in your room all day." His mum caught him off guard. Did I tell you that the only person who could handle Zayn's temper was his mum? She always had her way with him."I have already invited all my friends and close relatives, there's no way we're calling off this party. So eat your food dear. I see you are really hungry and tired too." She said sweetly, leaving Zayn dumbstruck.
"Wow! That was smart."He complimented her and smiled at her wittiness. "You win this time."
"I always win. Now eat your food." Her look was dangerous which broke his wings.
"Alright, I'll eat. After all, I'm starving." He picked up his spoon and continued eating.
Moments later the boys returned with each of them carrying at least two cartons of bottled drinks. The boys were three of Zayn's cousins and Imran, his younger brother. Khalid and Khalil, the twins, were Yasmeen's younger brothers. The fourth boy was Fawzan, Omar's younger brother. All four boys were in the same age range.
Each of the boys greeted and exchanged pleasantries and some brotherly handshakes with Zayn.
Zayn was the oldest of all the grandchildren and therefore got all the respect and admiration. And of course, the party is not complete without Omar, he dropped in on them.
"Did you call me earlier?" Zayn directed his question to Omar who was gulping down a glass of juice.
"Yes, check your phone." He did and saw four missed calls. His phone had buzzed earlier while he was with Aylin but he decided to ignore it as he felt it was not important.
"Magnificent, this is good," Omar exclaimed as he took a bite of the Masa ( a local dish in northern Nigeria). Zayn nodded in agreement. Just how much of this has he missed?
"Who prepared this?" Asked Omar and All hands pointed to Yasmeen.
"Mashaa Allah, you did excellently well." He gave her a thumbs up but honestly, she wished it was Zayn who did instead.
"Thank you, I'm glad you all like my cooking." Her tiny voice echoed throughout the table. What is more magnificent than a woman who is beautiful, well-cultured, and can cook a delicious meal? In Africa, those qualities were mostly considered when searching for a wife.
While they ate, Zayn was trying so. hard to remember this Ebony black lady sitting across from him. How come he couldn't remember her as any member of the family? He remembered everyone including the twins and her brothers.
It was the Maghrib Adhan (call to prayer at sunset) that had the boys desert the table. They all walked to the Masjid (mosque) in groups.
Once back from the mosque Zayn retired to his room and took a long rest, leaving everyone else in the living room, including Omar and other members of the family who had come from afar. Later that night Aylin had called and they had a long chat over the phone.