Sekinat was already rushing back home in the wake of the disconcerting news she just overheard over Mallam Danladi's transistor radio. Mallam Danladi an older man in his sixties is one of the farmers with an adjoining farm to her's. She had been easily drawn to him out of all the other farmers, due to his warm and inviting nature. A genial and kind hearted widower with grown up children who lived in the city, he reminded Sekinat of her departed father and even shared a number of positive personality traits with the departed old man. He has always been nice to Sekinat, often helping her out on the farm sometimes at the expense of his own work. He would play with Halima and Saratu anytime they came with her to the farm, often times he will even help them pluck ripe mangoes and oranges and gift Saratu small carvings he had sculptured out of wood to her childish delight.
He had an Inexhaustible array of folk tales some of which he would regale the kids with, captivating stories and accounts of mythical figures and historical incidents like wars that had occurred in days gone by, or just sit with them and show them different plants and flowers which the kids found quite fascinating indeed.
Both of Sekinat's girls over time had grown quite fond of Mallam Danladi as well, even asking after him each time she arrived home from the farm. Saratu would squeal in excitement and
fly into his outstretched arms each time she set eyes on him, and he would lift her up and swirl her around in the air a few times before placing her on his shoulder. He would do a funny dance and gestures to the delight of the little girl, laughing and clapping her hands hysterically in childish excitement.
Sekinat latched on tightly to the motorcycle driver ferrying her home as he manuovered through the route they were travelling on, both hands encircling his mid riff as he sped along meandering through treacherous overgrown bush paths and half clearings clogging the route towards home from the farm. Her eyes shut tight against the debris flying as she silently uttered words of supplication that her children were safe and protected from the incident. The BBC Hausa presenter's gravelly voice still rang in her ears from earlier, when she heard the shocking piece of news over the radio.
She strongly felt that haunting spectre of unease come upon her, stalking close behind as they sped along in full speed towards their town. Mentally urging the motorcycle to go even faster, at least to confront reality of whatever situation was awaiting her at home. She has often found bad news easier to deal with when confronted by a worst case scenario, as opposed to a haunting sense of limbo, neither here nor there yet palpable in its full impact.
Having experienced all that she had and especially the cognitive impact it had left on her, she had always favoured situations in which she had a well rounded overview and a total control over what was coming for her. That way she could easily fashion out solutions to worst case scenarios, prepare her mind and response and most importantly chart a solution pathway for her recovery no matter how difficult such situation she is confronted with.
She was especially worried about this particular incident mainly because of the signs her body had perceived prior to this day, her heightened sense of intuition and disconcerting mental state it had left her all day even when she could not place her finger on a particular reason and now to be confronted and blind-sighted by this piece of news just when she thought all possible safety measures had been put in place to forestall either her or any of her loved ones falling victims yet again.
She reckoned that she would not have been this worried if she had not experienced or being assailed by any pre conceived perception of danger, at the very worst she would have been at peace only marginally worried like every other person living in their town, then be cautiously curious to know the full details again like any other inhabitant and then deal with whatever she learnt in the fullness of time. As things stood now considering the way she had been feeling prior, even if it amounted to nothing at the end of the day she could not ignore this news or make any safe assumptions without at least going there to make sure everything is okay. She owed it to her peace of mind, her late husband and her daughters. Never mind the ingrained natural maternal instincts every mother is biologically inflicted with at the birth of their children.
This overwhelming urgency to check on and safeguard her children had propelled her to hitch a ride from a man working in an adjacent allotment introduced to her by Mallam Danladi. After Sekinat had explained the situation to Mallam, without a word he had called upon the man and instructed him to assist Sekinat.The man had stopped his task for the day, not minding the inconvenience and offered to take Sekinat home at least to make sure her children were safe from harm. Many of the farmers knew her girls and most would often give them treats and even play around with them. So as they left that fateful day, they commiserated with Sekinat and prayed in her wake that all the children will not come to any harm.
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Sekinat: Muted Voices
सामान्य साहित्यThe 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...
