𝑬𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑻𝒐 𝒀𝑯𝑾𝑯

𝑰

I dumped my bag on the floor without caring where it landed with my two friends following suit. Isoke and Rahila dropped their bags as I did, already used to coming over before slamming my room door shut.

I hissed at Rahila. "What did I say about slamming the door? My mother is around."

They both slumped their bodies on my bed, Rahila rolling on her tummy and Isoke laying upside down by the edge of the bed.

Rahila shrugged, "Yi hakuri, Sorry I forgot."

I eyed her, knowing well she wasn't really sorry then got back to my desk. These are the kind of friends I have in secondary school. Even after three years of high school I wasn't able to make an actual friend who I could call my 'ride or die'.

Who needed them anyways?

Rahila is a Hausa girl through and through. It showed in her appearance; from her smooth dark skin to the tribal marks on her chin, her slim eyes, dressing and heavy accent when she spoke her language.

One thing about her though is that she's not a Muslim as I expected her to be. Her mother married a Christian man twenty years ago because of love. Her father did not allow her mother to change her religion though because of marriage, he let her practice her ways and gave his children their right to choose their own faith as well. Rahila chose to believe in God, the christian God.

"I'm hungry o, my stomach is growling like an angry beast," Isoke complained. "If not for that annoying Miss Anita, I swear all the teachers in our school are out to get me. Not us o. Me specifically."

We laughed at her exaggeration. "What did you do this time? For you, everything is out to get you." I said.

"Ehen ask her what she did," Rahila sat upright. They both offered the same course, arts, while I studied science much to the insistence of my parents. "This fool eh, she never learns."

"Who are you calling a fool there? It's your brother that's a fool, not me."

"Tsawa ta harba ku, thunder fire you. See this one, you're lucky I'm in a good mood."

I rolled my eyes at them. These two easily get into an argument over the littlest things, before you know it they're exchanging curses and insults at each other.

I drummed my fingers on my desk, analyzing the scattered books. At this point it's an aesthetic because my desk is always scattered with books I'm not done reading and papers I doodle on. I picked an empty paper from under the pile with the intention of writing another letter.

A letter to my disembodied friend.

From the corner of my eye I saw Rahila and Isoke still arguing over what I don't know, Isoke's face is nearing red because of her yelling.