Burnt Flower

Bleak deceptions

If there was anything Sydney Chrome had seasoned me in. It was of the presupposition that the way of the heart can be so fuzzy, so much to beguile even it victim. A victim who only measures his idea and feelings in words and not numbers. The wince of disheartenment can be weighed apart by a slingshot of duplicity in hope. This isn't always factual but for someone who's desperate need is cowed in the need for a lover, could only visualize the denotative essence of it. In addition to this concept. I have come to affirm to the fact that needs and desire for a s****l accomplishment can drear the vision of even the most loyal and devout amidst us.

After a year in the citadel of reaches and disappointments. The director sauntered over two milestones. First, he bought a car. (One small Astra Opel, blue in its stand). Following that, there was a sudden surge for the need for us to vacate our present institution into some other locality and building not far from the abandoned one. Reason was solely because, the landlord was not pleased with the director and his management of the environment. Although, he(the director) says it's an underlying grudge he was facing by the entire community. I wouldn't really back his assertion as he was a man of shades of black and white.

We moved to a new building which looked more colourful and comfortable from the other one we were being sacked from. On the day we packed in, the new community discovered inherently that they've been nipped into by a swarm of locust and a pack of rodents. We circled the whole building screaming goodwill prayer to ward of evil and it mercenaries from the building.

After settling for few days, we were visited by a fine gentleman from the Hausa land. He told us his name was Kamal and he'll be responsible for one of our core subjects in the center. That night, I stood at the entrance of the boys quarters and watched the students crowd the gentleman in so much excitement and anxiety. I wondered, what would become of my being since I was always recognized as the sigma of seniority. By the end of the day, he was stuffed up with so many promiscuous questions from those little eyes that I noticed a bead of sweat fall across his smothered face. He sang them a song. One I could barely recover. Thanks to the depletion of time.

He got so used to us in a matter of days, possibly because of his alien disparity and his ever curious need to learn from our culture. When we had our first discussion, he saw in me a bosom friend and an ally and immediately constructed me so. Our conversation which was so watered in respect and etiquette tend to fade away almost immediately. He confided in me with almost every decision and obligations he had to render. Following this, he also noticed my witty anxiety to study and glow over my peers. This, he entertained with so much admiration. So much was his admiration that one day while we were having our casual conversation. He brought up an unexpected conversation

"Who your girlfriend here". He queried with his apparent tarnished use of English grammar. One which we had come to accept and even imitate at times. Sometimes I wonder how he was able to bag a diploma in law. When he could barely spell his name. However, the picture he traditionally showed us of him in black and white immediately dissolved any possiblity of doubts.

I chuckled and responded quietly. "We don't do that here"

"You don't?" he wore one of those dismayed disappointed face.

"Yeah. It's a capital crime around here and no one wants to get caught"

He snickered in a funny manner and that raised my curiosity. "what of you? You have a girl back at home?

He paused for a moment and gently brought out his ever long amazing android that seems to trip me whenever I gazed at it. He showed me pictures of an Hausa gal, who looked quite pretty enough to avert my taste. I nodded my head in a created appall.

"Mr Kamal. I must admit you have the best taste in ladies" I gave him a grin and he looked like the proudest man on earth. He pocketed his phone and turned to me.

"So, what of you? You have eyes on anyone?. The question made my mind rattle and project the image of Alisha.

"I don't know" I looked away more in disillusionment than in ecstasy. "I guess the sister of the director." I continued silently

"What?" he hissed. "You like Alisha?"

This made me stare at him in a urgent caution. He shifted on the little mattress and drew towards me mischievously.

"So, why you no tell her?" he snorted a pause. "You want another man to steal your mata"

"I told you. I can't afford to get caught. It's endangering and besmirching." I looked towards his phone probably hoping to change the enraptured discussion in a way.

"no worry " he said with an air of resolution "I will help you"

"Don't" I retorted aloud

"why?" I think you say you like her"

"Yeah I do but somethings ain't worth trying. I call them Love impossible ".

He gave me a questioning look and shrugged. "it's you no want ". After that day, it became a regular discourse. To talk about girls and our desires for them. In accordance with this, we'll also taunt each other over the girl of our dreams and I was sure to remind him that, Alisha is just a romantic entity to me. Someone I cannot have. Not with the complexities of the Center rules.

Our mockery got so intoxicating that at one point, Kamal told me of his desires for Nonu. Which translated to *boobs* in Hausa and I could only imagine my lips around Alisha's. The frame of mind in itself Is a tempting machinery. He'd stood up and described the protruding shape of it exposure comparing it to the director's wife who's was always sturdy and arousing even under the cover of her niqab and I could only laugh at such jokes. Of course my Alisha had small once..but I believed it still growing and she's not even of age. Considering my

17 years and her 14 or 15.

In one of our sick adventures. Kamal sneaked to the window frame of the director and his wife while they were having their tete a tete and came back to inform me that they were f*****g and the woman was moaning rather sultry. Of course that spiked my curiosity but I was too afraid to make any venture into such curiosity.

Time seemed to quench most of our dealings and silent secret and it wasn't long enough before Kamal found a new love. Her name was Azeezah. She was a rather tall figure, light in complexion with a figure that drove men to rejection of their previous lover. I couldn't blame the Mr, Azeezah even with her long hijab and socks was a meal to the eyes. Even I found myself desiring her in secrets. She was a cousin to the friend of the director and sometimes had to deliver crucial messages to him in that regards. In a bid of her connections and affections to us in the center, she almost immediately became a friend to everyone in it abode except me and the mallam. I urged Kamal to collect her number and he succeeded in that with the help of Musa, one of the little favorites of Kamal and me but was vastly close to Azeezah. After he got her number. Kamal had to confide in me regarding all tactics to win her hand and since I was a Yoruba as she was. It made the situation less cumbersome. Of course, I texted in his regards too. Which I found fun and exciting. When I began chatting with Azeezah. I made use of incredible vocabularies, One that I'm certain her pretty head couldn't process. Not in a sitting. The first day of our texts, there was an exchange of pictures and I lavished in my meritorious gift of flirting. In a way, I took the posture of Kamal and rendered myself in his figure. This jittered him and he solely entrusted her in my care. It was exhilarating.

My conversations with Azeezah opened a realization to me. That she had no true admiration for Kamal but the way he texted and her acknowledgement for his background heritage. She was what I'll discern as desiring attention and care...but I couldn't inform him for the fear of jeopardizing my only resort to flirtation and untrue confessions.

Sooner than later, they set a day to meet. He had to keep me at bay so he doesn't ruined the momento and sometimes I wondered if Azeezah was just pretending not to notice the difference between his diction virtually and in reality or she was just too blind in her supposed loved. They got a bit attached and learned to meet each other every Friday after the Jum'ah service. I had to pitch my tent in a corner while watching the lovers have their serene conversation. Even though I felt the foolery in all this drama, I kinda loved them together. On her birthday, he bought her an umbrella and mur'sola. That is the tender small rug Muslims used in making their solah. It was like the romance was never going to end. Once I asked him

"what of Aisha?" he looked at me with a disgruntled face and said....

"I don't know. I think I'll have them both or at least if she accepts to be my second wife, I'll drop Aisha for her". Even though the words seemed to squeeze my stomach. I knew she was going to drop Aisha for her. Irrespective of her resolve.

The day the breakfast was eventually served. I wouldn't call it one though but instead Sahur. The Muslim's midnight meal during fasting. It was romantically tragic. She'd left the comfort of her room to somewhere desolate where Kamal had pointed out voices of crickets and fireflies. Then, with her sweet womanly voice. she expressed her grief to Kamal.

"It's not that I don't love you. I really do and somehow I want to be yours too but my parents are sure to kick against this relationship. First because you're an Hausa and secondly. They want someone who's financially capable. I wish ...." This trailed my memories to the picture of the person she called a dad..He was a disciplinarian no doubt, always driving his loud motorcycle around the vicinity.

The blow was enough to send my tutor into a deep relapse. He became bitter and cursed the idea of tribal differences and unmerited reasons.

"is me not enough? eh?".....is me not good enough for her?" he kept lamenting for about a week. I, on the other hand, saw this coming so it left no impact to my emotions as naturally, It was all a plaything from the start.

After Azeezah dumped Kamal. Their chitchat reduced. Kamal however tried to fix the lost love...but it was presumably to no avail and eventually he had to go back to Suyaiya Aisha.

My own glimpse of Alisha hadn't really faded but it has reduced into a pigment of the mind consolation. At one point, I found Kamal making a phone call with his sister. Aminah. He gave me the phone to speak to her and our conversation took a different twist. She was so sweet and surrendering to the arms of her intentions.... She had this upright Hausa intonation which only makes me wonder how they became siblings

"You know you sound so sweet and kind." She told me

"you're pretty exciting yourself ". I was visibly blushing.

"what's your age if I may ask?"

"I'm..." Kamal shush me with a look and motioned that I mentioned 20 years instead..

"......20" I gripped the phone at the fallacy

"Wow. that's nice.....how about class?" Kamal gave me that look again and whispered I said JSS3. This took an uncertain turn because I didn't see the essence of the lie when I'm infact a senior school certificate holder.

She paused for a while and gently told me to give the phone back to her brother. Eventually, Kamal informed me she was in the university of maiduguri and she really liked me. This resuscitated the question. "why do I even needed to lie then?" or do they favor men with lesser education in the north?. However I got my personal unsatisfying deduction. She was just testing me to discover if I'm ripe for marriage with her. During our second conversation. She declared explicitly she was in love with me. This made me lose my mind as I bought a bottle of Pepsi for all the center kids excluding the girls. It was a mirrored emotion and intentions and I was starting to sense some possibility. Our last conversation was a bit surprising and unexpected. She told me. I needed to marry her soon, otherwise she stands a risk of being married off anyway. I let her I don't have the time yet. I was just 17 without a job or means of income. what was she thinking? and that dissolve the little light in our midst. We kept texting even when I left the center but nothing really checked anymore. She was a lost ghost.

My relationship with the center was quite nerve whacking and it seemed it was all but a dream. There was a point I was openly called out to meet Alisha in public but I just drifted back inside...Timid to the core. She on the other line seemed to hold this insight that saw me as a genius but that was it. I doubt if she held any desire for me. One point, I saw her dress up for masjid during a Jum'ah session and I could only stare before exclaiming silently.

" I swear Alisha is beautiful". She was dressed in a fashioned long gown with glittering decorations. Her hijab, although short. Draped around her head in such a majestic way that left me salivating. I wondered if she even knew I was stealing glances.

Kamal, through that day made a mockery and sarcasm of my statement. A boy who desires a girl but who had no gut to grasp his longings. This got me so tensed up and I directed my depraved emotion at him.

"Like you're any different. I can as well assume you liked her also" After this retort. He quieted a bit and asked gently

"You think we fit?"

"Are you kidding me? You guys are perfect for each other and just the other day. I heard her giggling and blushing about you". This lightened him up a bit and he asked again

"you're not playing with me"

" I'll be damned if I am. She admires you. The question is ...Do you?" Of course these assertions was to push the jokes and mockeries on him. My intentions were totally not genuine and my mind was condescending the idea. "my Alisha can never be yours. Not in a million years". He sought my suggestion and I told him to make a move at her. That night. He called her into the room and my heart collapsed into a shudder. The next day. He informed me I was right. "She truly had something for him". Thinking that it will disperse as the phase of time lingers through. I returned from a vacation to discover to my utmost gloom. They were now together and not just that, The director knew about it and had given it his blessing. They were to be married by the end of our time there. This information charred my heart and suffocated my intentions. I saw Kamal as an agent sent to lodge himself in-between my fantasy destiny. Irrespective of this, I had to accept my fate and move on with the day in and out witnesses of watching them spend time together. There were even times they'll go to the eatery with the director and spend times together. It was so obscure and depressing to unveil. I tried not to feel betrayed and subject myself to even strengthening their love but there was this fraction of my mind which kept eating me from the inside over the idea of what could have been over what it is. There were even times the Mallam tried consoling me with words such as

"She tell me she liked you once"....once? once my pitiable foot! once enough to never be. A deranged once that is.

At the resolution of it all, I ended up absconding the center, reason because the director flogged me utterly over some minor justification. I took my bags the next day. Plotted with some neighboring bike man and took off with the wind in my back. My dad was furious of course but I'd made up my mind I was done with the drama of the center. I was however, still in contact with my young tutor but even that diminished eventually . Last I heard from Musa. He informed me Alisha and the director

were only using the poor Kamal and Alisha herself testify to the proportion that she never had a thing for him and she couldn't engage with a low born Hausa scum. I couldn't say I felt pleased because at the moment, I had lost all my interest in her and neither can I say I felt sympathetic to Kamal. Since I was told he got married to Aisha after all. I, on the other hand looked on towards the futuristic tale of my romantic life.