Misfortunate (Completed)

Chapter Fifty-Three: Lake Date

Song of the chapter; Halo by Beyonce.

"Why did you do that? You really shouldn't have. Honestly you shouldn't." I said to Bashir the moment I found him in the house after my interview. I've moved partly to stay with Baaba only going home to get important documents and food from Iyamé that I miss.

He didn't reply, only walking slowly in his hoodie, shorts, socks and slides ensemble to a sofa placed for random talks like this one. I used to think there were far too many sofas in this house until now, this pastel green sofa in this white room, is as important as our discussion.

"Yaya?" Bashir called and watched my face till I replied with a Na'am. He nodded and yawned, trying to get his concentration going.

"You need to understand one thing. You are my sister, my eldest sibling, my older sister and an example for us all. If I let some gutter urchin speak to you anyhow because he is a scholar, then even my friends can tomorrow say rubbish about you and I'll not be able to caution them." I was taken aback, quite literally since I shifted back to see his face properly. He moved his hands on his face vigorously, exhaling at the end.

"I've let people say whatever they want to say about me a long time ago. For some people, even if the truth is right in their faces, they'd rather take the lie they can't see. I've just learned to let things be and live my life on my own terms." I slowly spoke, noticing that his face creased the moment I said the phrase 'let things be', so I chuckled. Many people pray for a brother who'd stand up for them without question, but have none, I have one and I'm messing around. Not too good of me.

"Since you've resigned yourself to letting things go, that's okay." I smiled with a nod and Bashir shook his head, turning down his lips at me. "I was about to say that you should let those of us who have the time and know how to deal with riff-raff like that, deal with him." I looked up at his smug face, his lips set into a proud smirk and raised my own left hand to push him away.

He put out his arms and hugged me to himself, his chin on my head probably to remind me that at my five feet, eight inches height, he is taller. I let myself be hugged until I heard him humming this song making the rounds on social media about height. I mentally shook my head and gathered all my energy within myself to push him away. He is caught unaware and pushed to the floor from the force of my push. I began laughing at the frown that marred his handsome face.

"It's official, all that calm you're always showing on social media na facade. You're wicked." I laughed harder, he got up, dusted himself and walked away in the direction of the kitchen.

I sat back and watched him leave, listening to sounds of the house staff doing chores and in the spur of a moment, I stretched out my hands, cupped my palms together and began to say a heartfelt Dua for them.

***********

The last place I want to be right now, is here. I'll be honest, it's just planning a wedding, it's not supposed to be this hard. Baaba doesn't need to be here, his duty is to shell out money, Kaka should be in Lagos finding me the best fabric to wear, not arguing so passionately with my father about what events I'll be having.

"Wushe Wushe is a must! How's she Kanuri and not do that event?" My father stated with his face the most serious I've seen it in family settings. He doesn't even scold us his children, let alone use a tone like that for us. But, I digress.

"Look who's talking. If you didn't meet her, would you be asking for a Kanuri event? All her events her going to be Hausa events. Simple." They've argued this out as though I'm not here and sincerely I'm not mad. What has been the bone if contention this past five minutes is who's purse the wedding funds is coming from.