From Bashir Maru's wall:
MY SOUTHERN KADUNA NEIGHBOUR AND ME
He and his family live in a boys quarter near my house. I wouldn’t call us friends given that he always tried to keep some kind of distance. But our children are definitely friends. They play together, watch tv together and even ‘farm’ their small ‘cooperative’ garden together.
Well, I have the beautiful duty of taking my children to school every morning. I also include the children of another neighbor and pick up those of my sister on the way. But it always worried me that there was no space to carry these other children of my southern Kaduna neighbor, though they went to the same school. My guilt was compounded by the fact that at the time we would leave my house, the car would have some space that was reserved for my sister’s children that I would pick later. My heart always dropped when we rode past them to go to my sister’s house, while these little ones hiked, with backpacks and all, to the same school. Wallahi, you feel like burying your head in shame as they waved at you with their tiny palms.
On one fateful day, I couldn’t take my heartlessness anymore. So I parked and asked them to enter. We then branched by my sister’s house and loaded up her children. Some had to carry others on their laps. It became very uncomfortable and rowdy; my children were complaining all the way. I didn’t care. Cramming them up like sardines seemed like a better option. And when we got to their school, I told them to come to the house the following morning so we could all go together. One of them knelt down as he thanked me.
Now imagine my surprise when they didn’t turn up the next morning. I sent my son to call them from the boys quarters. Their father came out instead. His face was kind of blank when he thanked me for taking his children to school on the previous day. But then he said ‘But please don’t be taking my children to school. I know you are trying to be kind, but please don’t do that. I don’t like it. That was why I told them to go. They have gone already. And please don’t pick them on the way. Thank you.’ He then turned and walked away.
I was rooted to that spot for a very long time. Shaking my head, I couldn’t understand it. I took my children to school and tried to forget about it. When we passed the children, they waved at us again. I felt so sad and contemplated ignoring their father’s ‘instructions’. But I didn’t. And life went on like that until the end of the session.
Now, when the new session began, I noticed that, for at least the first one week, those children would be playing outside whenever I came out to take my children to school. As a normal human being, a parent, that should worry anyone. So when that continued into the second week, I called the eldest and asked him why they were not going to school. He said their father said he had no school fees and that he said he had only enough money to feed them. That news placed me in a dilemma. I needed to help those children but how do I deal with their ‘funny’ father?
I had an idea, so I went to see him in their BQ compound after I came back. He came out with a frown on his face perhaps because he was woken up by his wife who had ‘incredible’ written on her face when I asked to see her husband. I took him aside, away from peeping eyes, and told him that I’d noticed his children missing school and that I’d found out from them that it was about school fees. I said so I was wondering if he needed a ‘small loan’ to help him with that.
My neighbor took forever to respond. He then rubbed his hands on his face, barely looking at me, and said, ‘It is only N3,000 each. So N10,000 should be enough.’ I had come prepared, so I quickly counted the money out and gave him before he could change his mind. When my neighbor counted the money, he then looked at me and said, ‘I can only pay you by the end of the month.’ My response was, ‘Don’t worry. Even if it takes two months, we can manage.’ He replied, ‘No, I don’t want to keep anybody’s money with me for that long.’ And then he walked away.
I had long concluded that this was one proud, son-of-a-gun, but I wouldn’t let his attitude deprive me from the chance of helping his young ones. The reward from God of such actions was too big to ignore.
Now, three weeks later, in the evening, my neighbor sent his son to call me. I went out of the house to meet him. He then counted the 10K and outstretched his hands to give it to me. But because from the onset, I didn’t mean to give it as a loan, I simply smiled at his unsmiling face and said, ‘No malam. I am happy you got the money and you are paying back. That’s very honourable of you. But, erm, please keep it. Use it to pay their next school fees. But if you have enough at that time, then you can bring it back.’
You cannot guess what happened next. His eyes began squinting incessantly. And then tears rolled out. Oh my God. Before I realized what was happening. He was on his two knees. I quickly grabbed his hands and pulled him up. Confused, I was saying, ‘Haba Malam! What is that? For this small money? Haba Malam.’
He steadied himself, wiped off his tears and said, under his breath, ‘And they say you hate us!’
Before I could understand what that meant, he simply turned away and walked off.
Fifteen minutes later, his wife was at our house. My wife was not around so I didn’t want to ask her in. But she wasn’t going to have it. She literally barged in and slumped to the ground. She was just thanking me, bowing and crying. She was saying ‘God is alive! God is alive! Do you know how many from our tribal people that we approached to lend us money so my children could go to school? You know we are from Southern Kaduna and I know you are Fulani people. They say you hate us. And I have heard many Hausa people say Zangon Kataf people hate Hausa people. But I swear, we don’t hate you. We are Christians! We love people. You Muslims love people too. See how you helped us now. Our people did not help us. You help us. God used you to help us. Wallahi, from today, I will never abuse any Hausaman…’ And she went on like that.
Truth is I never thought I was helping a Christian or an Atyap man. I never looked at them like that. I was only being a parent. This is what any parent will do to the children that are his children’s friends if he has the means. He will be actually sustaining the quality of friends that his children will be relating with. By that he will be helping to secure the integrity of his children too. In a way, I was just being selfish, protecting my children. And I think we should all protect our children in the same way too. Lolls.
Have a nice day and a blessed week ahead.
(c) Auwal Sani Anwar
MY SOUTHERN KADUNA NEIGHBOUR AND ME
He and his family live in a boys quarter near my house. I wouldn’t call us friends given that he always tried to keep some kind of distance. But our children are definitely friends. They play together, watch tv together and even ‘farm’ their small ‘cooperative’ garden together.
Well, I have the beautiful duty of taking my children to school every morning. I also include the children of another neighbor and pick up those of my sister on the way. But it always worried me that there was no space to carry these other children of my southern Kaduna neighbor, though they went to the same school. My guilt was compounded by the fact that at the time we would leave my house, the car would have some space that was reserved for my sister’s children that I would pick later. My heart always dropped when we rode past them to go to my sister’s house, while these little ones hiked, with backpacks and all, to the same school. Wallahi, you feel like burying your head in shame as they waved at you with their tiny palms.
On one fateful day, I couldn’t take my heartlessness anymore. So I parked and asked them to enter. We then branched by my sister’s house and loaded up her children. Some had to carry others on their laps. It became very uncomfortable and rowdy; my children were complaining all the way. I didn’t care. Cramming them up like sardines seemed like a better option. And when we got to their school, I told them to come to the house the following morning so we could all go together. One of them knelt down as he thanked me.
Now imagine my surprise when they didn’t turn up the next morning. I sent my son to call them from the boys quarters. Their father came out instead. His face was kind of blank when he thanked me for taking his children to school on the previous day. But then he said ‘But please don’t be taking my children to school. I know you are trying to be kind, but please don’t do that. I don’t like it. That was why I told them to go. They have gone already. And please don’t pick them on the way. Thank you.’ He then turned and walked away.
I was rooted to that spot for a very long time. Shaking my head, I couldn’t understand it. I took my children to school and tried to forget about it. When we passed the children, they waved at us again. I felt so sad and contemplated ignoring their father’s ‘instructions’. But I didn’t. And life went on like that until the end of the session.
Now, when the new session began, I noticed that, for at least the first one week, those children would be playing outside whenever I came out to take my children to school. As a normal human being, a parent, that should worry anyone. So when that continued into the second week, I called the eldest and asked him why they were not going to school. He said their father said he had no school fees and that he said he had only enough money to feed them. That news placed me in a dilemma. I needed to help those children but how do I deal with their ‘funny’ father?
I had an idea, so I went to see him in their BQ compound after I came back. He came out with a frown on his face perhaps because he was woken up by his wife who had ‘incredible’ written on her face when I asked to see her husband. I took him aside, away from peeping eyes, and told him that I’d noticed his children missing school and that I’d found out from them that it was about school fees. I said so I was wondering if he needed a ‘small loan’ to help him with that.
My neighbor took forever to respond. He then rubbed his hands on his face, barely looking at me, and said, ‘It is only N3,000 each. So N10,000 should be enough.’ I had come prepared, so I quickly counted the money out and gave him before he could change his mind. When my neighbor counted the money, he then looked at me and said, ‘I can only pay you by the end of the month.’ My response was, ‘Don’t worry. Even if it takes two months, we can manage.’ He replied, ‘No, I don’t want to keep anybody’s money with me for that long.’ And then he walked away.
I had long concluded that this was one proud, son-of-a-gun, but I wouldn’t let his attitude deprive me from the chance of helping his young ones. The reward from God of such actions was too big to ignore.
Now, three weeks later, in the evening, my neighbor sent his son to call me. I went out of the house to meet him. He then counted the 10K and outstretched his hands to give it to me. But because from the onset, I didn’t mean to give it as a loan, I simply smiled at his unsmiling face and said, ‘No malam. I am happy you got the money and you are paying back. That’s very honourable of you. But, erm, please keep it. Use it to pay their next school fees. But if you have enough at that time, then you can bring it back.’
You cannot guess what happened next. His eyes began squinting incessantly. And then tears rolled out. Oh my God. Before I realized what was happening. He was on his two knees. I quickly grabbed his hands and pulled him up. Confused, I was saying, ‘Haba Malam! What is that? For this small money? Haba Malam.’
He steadied himself, wiped off his tears and said, under his breath, ‘And they say you hate us!’
Before I could understand what that meant, he simply turned away and walked off.
Fifteen minutes later, his wife was at our house. My wife was not around so I didn’t want to ask her in. But she wasn’t going to have it. She literally barged in and slumped to the ground. She was just thanking me, bowing and crying. She was saying ‘God is alive! God is alive! Do you know how many from our tribal people that we approached to lend us money so my children could go to school? You know we are from Southern Kaduna and I know you are Fulani people. They say you hate us. And I have heard many Hausa people say Zangon Kataf people hate Hausa people. But I swear, we don’t hate you. We are Christians! We love people. You Muslims love people too. See how you helped us now. Our people did not help us. You help us. God used you to help us. Wallahi, from today, I will never abuse any Hausaman…’ And she went on like that.
Truth is I never thought I was helping a Christian or an Atyap man. I never looked at them like that. I was only being a parent. This is what any parent will do to the children that are his children’s friends if he has the means. He will be actually sustaining the quality of friends that his children will be relating with. By that he will be helping to secure the integrity of his children too. In a way, I was just being selfish, protecting my children. And I think we should all protect our children in the same way too. Lolls.
Have a nice day and a blessed week ahead.
(c) Auwal Sani Anwar
Comments
Post a Comment