Life Of Laila

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 "Sometimes, the greatest battles are fought within ourselves, as we confront the fears that hold us captive and seek the courage to break free."

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Chapter 4___>>>>>>

Extra Dinner Token.

 As the sun began its descent, casting a warm golden hue over the compound, Laila stepped out of the dimly lit room she called home. The air was tinged with the familiar smell of dusts, yet a sense of urgency propelled her forward.

 Jamil was typically found lounging on the mat outside, but this evening, he had retreated inside, likely preparing for the Maghrib prayer. Laila felt a pang of loneliness as she glanced at the empty mat, a reminder of the solitude that often enveloped her when he was preoccupied with his devotions.

 The small store, a humble structure that served as both a pantry and a lifeline for the family, awaited her. Laila's heart raced with a mixture of relief and anxiety as she approached the last remaining bag of rice. It was a modest portion, just enough to sustain them for the week, but the thought of securing next week's supply loomed ominously in her mind. With a determined spirit, she fetched a bowl and carefully scooped a portion of rice, feeling the weight of her responsibilities settle on her shoulders.

 Setting the pot over the flickering flames where she cooks outside, Laila felt the warmth of the fire seep into her bones, a comforting contrast to the worries that clouded her thoughts.

 The jollof rice she planned to prepare was a staple, one that brought a semblance of normalcy to their lives. Yet, the lack of maggi for taste gnawed at her, prompting her to venture out once more.

 She went back to her room checking the small compartment where she kept her meager savings and was relieved to find N200 tucked away in her purse. It was a small fortune in their world, and she knew it had to stretch far.

 Wrapping herself in a long brown veil, Laila stepped outside, the cool evening breeze brushing against her skin as she made her way to the nearby shop owned by Bashir.

 The familiar path felt both comforting and daunting; the shop was a sanctuary of sorts, a place where she could momentarily escape the weight of her domestic duties.

 Upon reaching the shop, she stood near the window, scanning the interior for Bashir. He was a kind man, known for his generosity and understanding, often offering Laila little extras when she came to buy supplies. But as she peered inside, her heart sank when she noticed a teenage boy behind the counter instead.

 "Me kike nema? (What are you looking for?)" the boy asked, breaking her reverie.

"Ina Bashir? Na zo sayan abu ne (Where's Bashir? I came to buy something," Laila replied, her voice tinged with disappointment.

 "Ya yi tafiya ni zan tsaya mai kafin ya dawo (He traveled; I'll be here for him until he returns,)" the boy said, his tone indifferent, as if he were merely filling in for someone else rather than providing a service.

 "Oh nagane (Oh, I understand)," Laila responded, her heart heavy with the thought of navigating this unfamiliar territory. She reached into the pocket of her gown and withdrew the N200, feeling its texture between her fingers, a tangible reminder of her limited resources.

 "Ina son maggi da kayan dandano (I want to buy spices and Maggi)," she stated, her voice steady despite the swirling emotions within her. The boy nodded, taking the money and moving to gather her items.

 As he prepared a black leather bag filled with the spices she desperately needed, Laila felt a sense of urgency. She needed to return home quickly to start dinner, to create a meal that would nourish not just their bodies but also their spirits.

 "Maggi da kayan dandano kawai na siya, Kudi na ya kare (Excuse me, I just bought some spices, and my money has finished..." she began" When the boy handed her a larger bag.

 "Ba ke bace Laila? (Are you not Laila?) He had asked her to which she nodded before he added "Bashir ne yace na baki (told me to give you)".

 With her purchases in hand and the extra bag Laila stepped back into the cool evening air not before thanking the boy. her heart racing with a mix of gratitude and apprehension. The spices would elevate her food, transforming a simple meal into a feast, a small victory in a life filled with challenges.

 As she walked back home, the weight of her responsibilities settled heavily on her shoulders, but she held onto the hope that each meal prepared with love would bring them closer together, even in the face of adversity.

 She opens the other leather on her way back home and saw ten spaghetti, five macaroni and some food supplies, Laila smiles upon seeing it, She was just about to close it when a small note inside caught her attention.

'I couldn't get to inform you, I traveled but here's a small token from me, pls extend my greetings to baba Jamil'.

 'Thank you' Laila lightly says as she folded the note back in the letter. Laila closed the leather bags with a grateful smile, feeling the weight of her responsibilities settle on her shoulders.

 The sun hung low in the sky, casting golden rays that danced across the bustling town. The air was filled with the sounds of children laughing. Laila felt a sense of urgency; she needed to get home soon to prepare dinner for her family.

 As she walked, She was reminded of the meal she planned to cook: jollof rice, a dish that always brought her family together. It was more than just food; it was a symbol of love, warmth, and the memories they shared around the table. However, as she approached the entrance to her compound, a sudden realization hit her. They have been consuming rice since so she decided to cook jollof Spaghetti instead considering the token she got from Ibrahim.

 She went straight to the small space she used for cooking and quickly set the tomatoes and spices on the small table beside her cooking area, her mind racing with thoughts of her family. Each moment spent preparing the meal was a reminder of the laughter they shared eating together when their mother was alive, the stories they told, and the dreams they held for the future. She had missed her so much, Cooking was not just about feeding them; it was about nurturing their spirits and keeping hope alive.

 Laila washed the tomatoes under cool, running water, the droplets glistening like tiny jewels. She chopped them carefully, her knife gliding through the flesh with ease. With each slice, she thought of how her mother's food will taste as she smiles to herself, she cherished those moments when they would share stories about their day while cooking together.

 As she stirred the pot, the aroma of the spices filled the air, and for a moment, Laila closed her eyes, allowing herself to be lost in the memories of her family. Her thoughts wandered back to her mother again, who had taught her how to cook, passing down recipes and techniques that had been in their family for generations. The warmth of her mother's hands guiding hers, the laughter they shared in the kitchen, and the love that infused every meal they prepared together.

 Just then, she heard a soft voice calling from the entrance of the compound. "Laila, is dinner ready? It smells delicious!" Lila asked entering the house, her voice filled with excitement.

"Almost ready" Laila answered back, trying to ignore the fact that she just returned from only god knows where, adding the final touches to the jollof Spaghetti. She stirred the pot vigorously, watching as the spaghetti absorbed the vibrant colors of the tomatoes and spices, transforming into a dish that was not just food but a piece of her heart.

 As she served the food onto their plates, Laila felt a sense of accomplishment swell within her. Despite the challenges they faced, she was grateful for the little things—a warm meal, her family, and the hope that tomorrow would be better.

 "Assalam alaikum" Laila greeted as she entered the small room near theirs. "Wassalam" Jamil answered his daughter.

"Dinner is ready" Laila said dropping her father's food in the cemented ground near him. "May you be blessed" Jamil praised his daughter.

 "Bashir gave me a token again today" Laila said to her father as she watches him wondering how she got spaghetti instead of the normal rice they've been eating. "I see" was all Jamil could say. "You should go and eat too" He added.

Laila exited her father's room and took the two plates of food inside their room for her and Lila.

She sat on the mattress and was quietly munching on her food when the door opened and Lila walks in from the bathroom.

"Where's my food? I'm starving" Lila said as she flunked herself on the mattress. "Fatima did not buy food for you" Laila teased.

"She did actually but you see am starving again" Lila said carrying her plate of food and started munching on it. "When did we get upgraded like this?" Lila asked, Laila knew what she was asking.

 "Bashir gave me a token again" Laila said as she smiles remembering the note. "Bashir Bashir" Lila said as she continues eating.

Laila waited for her sister to finish eating before carrying both the plates outside to wash.

She entered her father's room and bought out his plate to wash also. She hanged the plates in the store after washing them going back to her room.

Lila was sleeping already when she entered. Laila prayed Isha and climbed on the sinking mattress to sleep. 'today wasn't such a bad day after all' she lowly mumbled as she drifted to dream land.

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Creation is hard!

Total words count- 1667words.