As soon as Halima awoke almost two hours after their mother's departure for the farm, she shook Saratu her younger sibling awake.
-Saratu.... Saratu.... wake up Saratu, she intoned gently shaking her little sister by the shoulder.
-OHHHHH Saratu groaned in anger, still half asleep as she wrenched her hand away and turned over on the other side of the woven mat.
-Saratu wake up let's go and bath repeated Halima now more insistent, as she shook her little sister more vigorously pulling her up by her hands.
-Aww..leave me alone my head is paining me, drawled Saratu still evidently half asleep mouth twisted in an obstinate scowl.
-ok let us go and bath, then you can go back to sleep she said as she tried to reason with her.
This time she managed to drag her unyielding form up, as the little girl slumped against the wall eyes half closed.
-NO! NO I want to sleep now! whined Saratu defiantly as she opened her eyes with an effort, and stamped her little feet on the floor in frustration.
She obstinately accentuated her resolve, by leaning against the flimsy wall and dozing off fitfully amidst sentence.
The hypnotic effect of sleep began to wear off, as she gradually regained some consciousness. Halima gently pulled her upright again
-Please Saratu she coaxed her sister soothingly.
-I promise you a piece of meat in your food, and buy you massa on our way to school she lied knowing her little sister's predictable weaknesses.
Looking doubtful but still induced by the tempting offer, Saratu finally flicked her eyes wide open and allowed herself to be led to a corner of the room. Halima led her away from the section where their sleeping mats were spread out, and quickly set about arranging the room. She latched on to the small window of initiative, as she quickly set about folding up the sleeping coverlet they had just used. Placing it away in a corner of the room she then rolled the woven mat, after quickly feeling it for wetness.
She was trying to make sure her sister had not wet the mat again, hence preventing the need for drying and airing it out. Mama was always irritated whenever Saratu wet their sleeping mat, and expressed her consternation by her sharp reprimand.
It almost always brought Saratu to tears, and she never stopped crying until her mum relented and comforted her with soothing words. Halima hated seeing her little sister in tears, even though she knew mama didn't mean most of the things she said which was only said out of frustration.
Mats rolled and propped upright in a corner of their room with the folded covers, she turned to her sister and hurriedly undressed her. Halima then picked up the plastic bucket near the door, and a plastic sponge case which had been left there by their mother and gently prodded her sister outside towards the communal bath shed. She now undressed herself then quickly had her own bath while her sister watched, before she proceeded to bath her sister with a practised hand surprising for a girl as young as she is. Halima proceeded to cover both of them in the expansive folds of an oversize tee shirt. One of their late father's now used as a towel/covering of sorts, and led her sister back into the room, to get ready for school. They both carefully unfolded and put on their school uniforms and the battered rubber sandals which looked like it had seen much better days. It was the only pair they owned and it had cost their mama a lot to get that pair each for both of them. Halima unwrapped the towel
their mother had kept their breakfast warm in, and served both of them its contents. They hastily gobbled up the sparse but filling riposte and got ready for school.
The sisters stepped out of their ramshackle lean to, and Halima pulled the wooden door shut attaching the latch and padlocked it securely. Both of them sauntered down the familiar dirt road of their neighbourhood, leading towards the general direction of their school on the other side. They traversed the straight path piercing through a vacuous bile of overflowing sewage lining both sides of the road, buzzing with flies and other unmentionables. They passed by an untidy row of identical ramshackle wooden shacks similar to theirs bordering both sides of the run-down street, Halima holding on tight to her sister's hand as few of the neighbourhood toddlers waved at them with parents looking on without expression.
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Sekinat: Muted Voices
قصص عامةThe war on insurgency in Northern Nigeria has created victims across different social demographic, however the voice of most vulnerable victims i.e. women and children have been largely muted or ignored by popular narrative. Borrowing inspiration fr...
