Misfortunate (Completed)

Thirty Six: Kaka's Birthday

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"Wear that boubou." Huda carefully handed me a navy blue silk adire that had been made into a plain boubou and a white turban to wear it with.

"You're just hell bent on making me go to this party aren't you? Who's going to push me around ehn?" I asked with mock exasperation in hopes of letting her leave me at home. She turned to me as she was already leaving my room with anger on her face and her hands on her hips.

"Muhammad, Imran, Hussein, Oladayo. They've all offered to push you around. The Dambazzau-Sambo's understand familial relations, we stand up for our own, we keep our own safe so get it out of your head that you're not going to be liked, worry about being smothered in love from women who look exactly like your mother!" She exclaimed at the end and walked out of the room. I sighed and let Iyamé who had been waiting help me to the bathroom.

I'm still not allowed to do my own bathing so she's here to help me bathe and dress. In the beginning, it was very disconcerting and I called Ma's attention to it several times but she reminded me they had to keep up the ruse of my supposed death so they could fish out all those people my father's wife put around me. It's also hard to call B.B Bakura my father, and sometimes it feels as though there's a lot going on in my life that I have no idea about.

"How do you want your turban?" Iyamé's question wakes me from the reverie I've been, we left the bathroom a few minutes ago and in the dressing chair after I wore my boubou, she did a simple makeup on my face and now wants to tie the scarf.

"Just do any style you think would do my face good." She nods and begins to wrap the scarf around my head, wrapping layers upon layers until the bulk of the white material is reaching my nape. When she's done, she sprays me with humra again and helps me to my wheel chair.

"You look so beautiful. So like Miss Bushratou." I turned sharply to Iyamé. It looks like she knew my mother, but the only bit of reminiscing I saw on her face is gone and replaced by a look of pity and sympathy. I sigh, I'll ask questions later.

Huda's head sneaks into my room and her face blossoms into a beautiful smile that just makes me feel like she's a star. I shake my head to clear it, Huda is beautiful. Beautiful.

"Ma Sha Allah Sis. You look so beautiful." She walks to me and hugs me and I remember that this is the first time since that day she snapped me that I'm all dressed up in front of her. I smile. She smiles back and leans down to kiss my forehead.

"Let's go. The bus Kaka sent is here. Ya Imran is in it already sef." I arch a brow at her. She gives me a sassy look and goes behind me to push me to the door, out of it, down the many corridors til we get to the brightly lit outside. The air is filled with air from the ocean no more than fifty feet away, Huda has promised the first day I can take a step, she's taking me to have a picnic by the ocean, I've held her to her promise.

"Ya Imrannnnnn!" She screams when we reach the bus's side, there's a young man, older than Huda and I by a few years leaning against the passenger door of the Chevrolet bus that Kaka sent. He's dark skinned like me, making me wonder who else got Huda's fair skin in the Dambazzau-Sambo family.

"Huda na. Assalamualaikum." He greets me with a wide smile and I duck my head, oh Allah, men like him should not be licensed to smile. "I'm Imran Dambazzau-Sambo, I know you're Labeebah. I'm very pleased to meet you and also glad that I'm the first of my cousins to meet you." I giggled at the way he was bent at the waist talking to me like I was the queen and he a subject.

"Thank you Ya Imran." I answered simply and looked away, I sighed softly and when I'd have to depend on people to be pushed around. It used to be Huda, now it's Ya Imran and anyone who takes pity on me.

I take hold of my emotions and finally allow him help me into the bus. A step like thing surfaces out from the back of the vehicle and Imran pushes me into the bus.

"Ya Imran, what are you getting Kaka?" He rolls his eyes as he takes his seat in front of me. The upholstery seats are bolstered so it looks like I'm in a higher wheel chair.

"I got her a calligraphy of her name. It was done by someone in KSA. I hope she likes it." He shows Huda a picture of it on his phone and she nods in approval, when Huda sees I want to see too, she passes me his phone and the sheer beauty of Kaka's name takes me away. So I hand his phone back to him with a slight smile.

"It's beautiful." I say a few seconds later. He flicks a glance at me and nods. I look out the window as the driver manouveres the bus out of the house and I see that the street is a close, when we get out of the gated street, I look around with widened eyes and realize that this is my first time in this part of Lagos.

*******

"Why are doing this to me?"

Bashir took a pillow and walked to the closet where he had made the sofa there into a bed and lay down, grimacing when Yaana followed him. She was clad in a grey negligee and her long hair flowed over her shoulders.

"What am I doing to you Yaana that you haven't done?" He scrubbed his hands over his face slowly, trying to keep himself awake. He had been to Lagos that day to commission a rail line on behalf of the president when the physiotherapist called to tell him his daughter had gone to her grandmother's birthday.  He wanted to break his schedule and drive himself over there since he was in the same state, or do something so he could catch a glimpse of her instead of those pictures that he got everyday and filled a folder on his iPad.

"You're torturing me. I'm sorry. I behaved like a shrew. I'm sorry Bashir. I could not think of sharing your love." Bashir stared at his still beautiful wife who was in her early fifties but looked like she was just over thirty.

"You behaved like a murderer Yaana. And I told you when you forced your father to marry you to me that you might never have my love and touching my daughter, you've successfully thrown any affection and respect I felt for you on the floor and stomped on it." Tears came to Yaana's eyes and fell to the floor in a heap.

"Bashir, please." He shook his head at her, got up and ushered her out of the closet. She sobbed mournfully as she walked out of the room as it was the first time he had ever slept anywhere else asides from her side when he was at home. It showed her how much she had overdone what she had done, he had even moved his clothes out of her closet but he slept in her room so that the spies in the house would never suspect anything.

Bashir shut the door with a click and went back to lay on his sofa-bed and began crying himself. He cried for his daughter, for the girl he never knew, for the pain she went through and for Bushratou whom he knew he had let down severely.

****
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TheOmoope 💙💛