Aisha Kabiru

“Ayyiriririririririririririririririri!” Mama ululates to her heart’s content, forgetting that it was night, and Baba has just gone to bed, but I know that he won’t bother. Even he, too, is part of the celebration.

“Oya, mama, go and sleep.” I say to her, standing up from my bed to lead her out of the room.

But she refuses to move. “Habawa, I haven’t even started the celebration. We need to gather people.”

“No!” I say, eyes wide. “Haba, da wuri haka. At least let him send his people and make it official mana.”

“Ba wani. His proposal is enough call for celebration.” She says, heading toward the door. “But we’ll need our strength. So go and sleep, kinji?”

“Dan Allah mama don’t tell anyone. Dan Allah.”

She doesn’t reply but I know she gets the message.

Lying down, I pick my phone and resume liking the posts of Walida, my friend. Seeing her and her boys reminds me of mine. Now I have the urge to speak to her and see them. I feel I’m in a better state to let her back into my life. She’ll be angry but she’ll also understand. After all, this is not the first time I’m ghosting her after a tragedy. It’s nothing personal, just a coping mechanism. I’m not a coward.

The next day, Alhaji mai Sujjada calls, not just to greet me, but also my parents, to the extent that Baba leaves the room to speak to him outside, even though the call is on speaker. Village champion kawai.

As for me, I spend the whole day in my room, lying on my bed, scouring social media for wedding videos. I even had to watch the one of Alhaji and Maijiddah, posted by her sister, Sa’eeda.

As mama and I are observing Asr prayer, I hear Baba’s laughter alongside Anna Sabuwa. I’m tempted to shake my head. Really?

They enter the living room. After we finish, mama hisses, “Why does he have to involve her in everything?”

I shrug, “She’s practically his bestie.” Speaking of besties, I stand and hurry into my room before I forget once again.

Picking my phone, I turn it on. There’re two missed calls. It’s Habib. Toh, what does that womanizer want now? After all this time? But I smile, happy that I have something to rub in his face.

I take a deep breath, then dial Walida’s number. I’m not sure how to start, do I just act jolly? Or I begin by apologizing? Knowing Walida, an apology will be better. Besides, I’ll need somewhere to crash when I visit Kano.

“Assalamu alaykum,” she greets.

I swallow. “Kawata.”

She stays silent. “Aisha Kabir?” I close my eyes in dread.

 “One and only.”

“Chabdi, lallai ma. So you’re still alive in this world? Or is this your ghost?”

I smile in relief. “Haba, if  I was dead, ai you’ll be among the first to know.”

She hisses. “Wallahi, Aisha baki kyauta ba, I understand that you’re suffering from memory loss. But that doesn’t mean you can just push me away like I’m nothing. It’s been almost six months o. “

I frown. Memory loss? Then I recall my little lie. Oh. I laugh. “Oh haba, I’ve recovered now. Hale and hearty, wallahi.”

“I don’t want to know since you decided to cut me off.”

“Sorry na. It wasn’t my fault.” I say, knowing it’s a terrible excuse.

“Dan Allah can! I have a new bestie now, so get lost.”

I just have to laugh. “No problem, I can fill in for second bestie.”

“I don’t need one.”

“Sorry naa.” I whine, smiling, eyes wet. I’ve really missed her.

She hisses.

“So what’s been going on? Na ga kina ta shanawa a Insta.” I say, knowing she won’t resist rubbing her enjoyment in my face. This is why we’re best friends.

Later in the evening, as I’m the bathroom having my bath, I overhear Baba from the veranda saying. “Ae, wallahi, he called us today.”

I roll my eyes. Who’s he yapping to this time?

“No, once he pays the bride price, you know what to do.”

I frown, does this man realize that someone can  hear him? And who’s he talking to like this?

I don’t hear anything again, but I know he’s still there. I drop the bowl of water in my hand and pick my sponge from the soap bowl. Slowly, I take down the small rechargeable lamp hanging on the wall. I wrap my towel and open the door.

As I go out, he continues, “I’ve told you not to worry. Once Aisha leaves the house, your reign will begin.

My eyes widen. I want to laugh. Is this useless man implying what I’m thinking? Wallahi bai isa ba. Not after everything he has put us through. Whoever that foolish woman is, I’ll deal with her before leaving this house. Lallai ma.

As I walk into my room, he says, “Leave Fauziyya, she’s not worth your time. For almost forty years since I married her, up till now, no male child.” He hisses. “As far as I’m concerned, she and her daughters are useless to me. I’m even planning to stop sending them to school. Karatun ya isa haka. Let them just marry and give me grandchildren. Dama that’s the only thing they know how to do, even the prophet said so.

Wow.

I sit on my bed, numb. I’ve always known Baba’s a shameless man, but not to this extent. So we’re useless to him? The same mama that begged her father to give them this house we’re in. Me that funded his last three hajj trips, trips that he refused to take mama along. Surayya and Lubaba that got government scholarships to study in the universities. We’re the useless ones, ko? I shake my head, a plan already forming in my head. I’ll show him who’s really useless.