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NASIRA





Storried Nazira
 – By Kolawole
Trudging back home from work, the scorching sun and fatigue his companions, the only thought on Sanuth’s mind was how to get to his room. Everything else melted in the heat of the sun. First, he had to get something to eat for lunch, so he stopped by the Awara seller’s stall. He didn’t notice the woman, with her son, whom he met there.
He tried in vain to communicate with the seller in the local language. He could have asked the woman he met there, but for the fear of returning after the service year with summarized versions of his limbs for talking to another man’s wife, so he didn’t.
He didn’t need to ask. The woman intervened and mercifully put him out of his futility. She said something in Hausa, turned to him and said, “She said she doesn’t have N50 worth unless you are going to wait for her to make another one.” He caught himself just in time to give an appropriate reply.
Storried Nazira
She spoke English with such fluency that his soul had longed for since he got to this village. And if you have ever been to a rather remote part of Kano, you’d know that’s a rarity.
Sanuth turned slowly, smiling and noticing things he hadn’t earlier allowed himself to. She wasn’t a woman. But a lady. They got talking. She wasn’t married, the child was her brother. At that moment, that little fraction of the time, he realized she was the most beautiful creature he had seen in this new land. The sun above was no longer scorching, nay, it nestled him in its warmth, for her face had become the sun and was bright and fine. Everything was okay.
Her name was the most beautiful sound he had heard. Nazira. He knew not the translation of it, but to him it meant perfection. She was perfect.


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