"My friend Gbolahan and I used to be at the University together in America...he's very intelligent" he laughed as he explained to Alhaji what he meant.
"Yes, Mahmoud and I came out tops in our class, our professor commended us saying that he didn't realize that black people were very smart"
"Apart from being patronized, we got the quality education that our parents paid for, then it is our duty to build our country with what we have learned"
All the men burst our laughing at that. Gbolahan was half laughing because what Mahmoud had said was true but whether that promise would be executed was a very different matter.
They talked and laughed for two hours later before the Alhaji Danladi appended his signature to yet another contract that Gbolahan and Mahmoud would execute together.
Two women was walking down a hallway or more appropriately, a woman in her thirties was leading a five year old down a hallway. They shuffled along together the five year old unaware of the place where she was being taken to.
She licked a red lollipop soundly as she walked with the woman who was dressed shabbily as was the five year old girl. It was obvious that they were very poor and it would be difficult to get out of poverty because they obviously didn't have any education.
As they moved closer to the door, the woman in her thirties began crying, she was crying and questioning her actions and the motivation for her actions. She wanted to stop but it seemed as if she had no choice.
As she got to the door, a white man opened the door and gestured for the young lady to come in, but no, not the young lady but the five year old. The man put a wad of notes in the hands of the thirty something year old and then took the hand of the five year old and closed the door.
The woman put the wad of notes into her shirt and began to retreat slowly from the place where she had deposited her package. She was neither happy nor sad. She was non existent, but even the none existent still had to eat.
Ada sat in her room, in front of the mirror simply looking at her reflection. She was everything any warm blooded man would desire even though she was in her forties, and had the accomplishments a man in his fifties would be satisfied to be making.
She was satisfied with her life. She was a very successful woman also married to a very successful man with children schooling abroad and yet something was eating at her insides, the satisfaction she craved was nowhere to be found. Even her accomplishment and success gave her no satisfaction. She was in church twice a week when she was in town, yet she recognized the gaping invisible hole in her chest from which her life force seemed to drain out. All the joy in her soul had long since drained out and she had no idea what to do to make it better.
Being a woman in a high position, having a close friend who knew everything in her life was equal to having someone who could make and break her.
She came downstairs for a drink of tea. If she consumed alchohol everyday like some people who lacked control, she would understand what the emptiness was.
She gulped down the tea and dialed the number of her close friend.
"Cara, I am bored, can you come over"
Cara picked up the phone on the other said, "Ada, it's midnight, why do you want me to come over, how..."
"I don't know why, I just know that my memories are driving me crazy and hubby is enroute Canada to see our youngest, his phones are switched off and I just needed to talk to someone"
Cara opened her eyes wider and cleared her eyes, she had been in prayer for Ada for almost 4 years, praying for her heart to thaw towards the Lord.
"So what do you want to talk about?" asked Cara gently.
"Anything" Ada muttered "Would you pray with me so I can go to sleep"
"I will. There is nothing to fear. In Jesus name..."
Meaning of words:
Dashiki: a loose brightly coloured shirt or tunic, originally from West Africa.
Damanga: Hausa cap