Chapter 1
JAAFAR🌹
THE OBSESSION… 1
By Buhari Yusuf IBr
All thanks to Allah SWT for the privilege to start this book.... My special greetings to my lovely Mum, and all my small mums😍 my siblings and cousins ain't left behind too, ina son ku gaba daya.... Rashida Habibu and the members of our groups, I greet u too... ina maku barka da fatan alkhairi, Allah ya amshi ibadunmu baki daya, ga *Jaafar* I know u all will love it, coz I Buhari is already in love with it 😊
No disappoinment In sha Allah 😉
...01
Makeken lambu, mai ɗauke da bishiyoyin fruits kala-kala, ga daddaɗan iska mai sanyi—which is flowing with the scent of ripe fruits, penetrating into the human nose—kukan tsuntsaye, lullumin yanayin gari—ta yadda gajimare ya lullube hasken rana, made the moment very exceptional.
Wani tsohon mutum in his early 60s, zaune yake a kan wheelchair, resting his head on it, his eyes closed, enjoying the elegant moment.
Ya kusa mintuna talatin a haka ba tare da ya motsa ko hannunsa ba, bare har ya buɗe idanunsa. Idan ka gan shi, kai ka ɗauka bacci yake.
A hankali yake buɗe idanunsa bayan ɗaukan tsawon lokaci a zaune a gurin, and then pulled out his phone from his pocket, pressing it for a bit, sannan ya kara wayar a kunnensa—alamun kira.
Bugu biyu aka ɗauka. After thirty seconds of silence—probably yana sauraren magana ne daga can ɓangaren wanda ya kira—kafin nan ya buɗe baki arrogantly yace,
“I'm looking for you right now, ina garden.”
From this, yayi hung off ɗin kiran, ya mayar da wayar cikin aljihu, and then back to the situation he was.
Cikin ƙasa da minti biyar wani matashin saurayi—cikin farin kaya—his head covered with a p-cap. Kallo ɗaya ya isa ya gaya maka dukiya ta samu gurin zama a gurin. Cikin girmamawa yake karasowa zuwa gurin dattijon, his head bowed down in sign of respect, his knee barely touching the ground, and politely said,
“Good evening, Dad.”
“This is not what I called you for to listen, Sadiq. Ya kuka yi da Fatima?” dattijon ya faɗa curiously, looking toward the young man's face.
Shiru wanda aka kira da Sadiq yayi for a while, concern evident on his face, kafin ya dago fuskarsa cikin girmamawa yace “Baba, wallahi I did my best, but she's stubborn. Duk yadda ka faɗa min haka na yi, na nuna mata amma ta kasa fahimtata. Ta kafe akan cewa wai ita shi take so, wai—she has already made up her mind…”
“Enough, Sadiq! Stop telling me this. Na gane, you can't convince her. So, I'll do it myself.”
“Dad…”
Daga masa hannu mutumin yayi alamar dakatarwa.
“Stop dading me, Get out of my sight, Sadiq.”
Sadiq didn't argue. Miƙewa yayi, gwiwoyinsa sun yi sanyi, ya fice daga lambun—kamar yadda mahaifinsa ya umurta…
‘But… the game wouldn't stop from there. Whatever thing my dad doesn't like, I'll fight it till eternity.’ Sadiq assumed in his inner thought.
At the same time, his heart tightened, searching for a way out as he stormed out of the garden.
A bangaren mahaifin Sadiq kuwa, tun da Sadiq ya bar garden ɗin, zuciyarsa ta tafi yawo, tana tunanin mafita. And at the same time, assuring himself that he'll never spoil his family reputation. Zai yi duk wani abu mai yiwuwa don ganin ya daƙile makauniyar soyayyar da Fatima take yi akan wancan ɗan sh*giya yaron, wanda yake ma kallon ‘ɗan gaba da Fatiha’...
***
“JAAFAR!”“Jaafar!”“Jaafar!!!”
Ta ƙara volume ɗin muryarta, ta kira sunansa da ƙarfi kamar ba'a kusa da shi take ba, while caressing his shoulder. Firgigit ya dawo daga dogon tunanin da ya linkaya.
“Amm… Mum, are you? When long have you been there?” Ya faɗa muryarsa na rawa, anxious on his innocent face.
Da ka kalli fuskarsa—at the very first look—za ka fahimci yana cikin matsananciyar damuwa, but he tried to cover it off.
“Ina nan, kusan mintuna sha biyar baya, and it seemed you were busy thinking unnecessary things.”
Ta matso kusa da shi and seated at the edge of his bed, lowered her voice and said,
“Menene yasa zaka damu kanka, Jaafar? Ina ga ba abin da kake tunani bane fa. Menene zai sa just suddenly, lokaci ɗaya za su raba ka da ita after a long journey of loving each other, and without a single tangible reason? Maybe you just misunderstood them.”
Shiru Jaafar yayi na ɗan lokaci—recalling the scene—kafin nan ya kara kallon mum dinsa, his face pale, worn out of his real self, idanunsa sun ɗan surka zuwa jaa, kamar me koyon magana yace,
“Mum, ba za ki fahimci me nake nufi ba. Da kin ji irin maganganu marasa daɗi da yaya Sadiq yayi spewing against me, you'll definitely be traumatized even more than me.”
Yayi shiru, wani ɗan guntun hawaye ya gangaro daga idanunsa to his cheek, then used his thumb and wipe them away, ya ci gaba da cewa,
“Mum, he said, ‘daga yau kar na ƙara zuwa gurin Fatima. Wai idan kuma suka ƙara ganina a gurinta da sunan na je zance, za su yi min abin da ba zan taɓa mantawa ba.’” Ya ƙare maganar cikin muryar tausayi.
Shiru mum dinsa tayi na ɗan lokaci—thinking about something—sai kuma tace,
“Shi Alhaji Yusuf ya san an yi hakan? I mean, ya san abin da ke faruwa?
“I don’t know, Mum.”
“Okay, your food is ready now. Kaje dining ka ɗauka ka ci. Dadynka yana son ganin ka immediately idan ka gama cin abinci, yana can library.”
Sai da gabansa ya faɗi, amma a haka ya daure yace,
“Okay, Mum. But do you have any idea about what's happening? Ko kin faɗa masa ne?”
Jaafar ya tambaya, idanuwansa kyam a kan mum dinsa, yana jiran jin abin da za ta faɗa.
“No, ban faɗa masa komai ba. Wataƙila wani abu ne daban. Yanzu dai please do hurry, I'm waiting you outside.”
Ta faɗa tana miƙewa, ta fice daga bedroom ɗin.
***
Zaune yake cikin kayatacce madaidaicin ɗakin da aka gina musamman domin karatu, amini-library. Ɗakin cike yake makil da mabanbantan littattafai daga mabanbantan marubuta. Jaridar Daily Trust na hannunsa, his eyes glued on it, reading the news through his medical glasses.
Cautiously, Jaafar ya buɗe ƙofar library ɗin, bakinsa ɗauke da sallama. While deep down inside his heart—tunani yake yi—‘me yasa mahaifinsa yake nemansa at this very moment?’
“Good evening, Dad,” ya faɗa bayan ya shigo cikin library ɗin.
Bai amsa gaisuwar ba. He just pointed at a book on the table in the middle of the library and said,
“Bring it for me, please.”
Cikin girmamawa, Jaafar ya nufi teburin, ya ɗauko littafin and then handed it to him—in respect. Ya amsa, ya ajiye shi a gefensa, sannan ya nuna masa kujera dake opposite ɗinsa yace,
“You can sit there.”
Komawa yayi kan kujerar da mahaifinsa ya nuna masa, ya zauna, zuciyarsa na bugawa, yana tunanin, ‘me yasa dadynsa zai kira shi a irin wannan lokaci kuma a wannan gurin?’
Usually idan za su yi magana da shi—ko wace iri ce—sukan yi ta ne a main parlor. So, me yasa this time is totally different? Me yasa zai kira shi zuwa nan?
“Jaafar,” Alhaji Lawal ya kira sunansa yana folding ɗin newspaper dake hannunsa.
“Na’am, Dad,” Jaafar ya amsa. Har cikin tsokar jikinsa da zuciyarsa ya ji kiran. This call was totally different. Yakan yi masa irin wannan kiran ne kaɗai idan zai faɗa masa magana very important.
Wayarsa ya zaro daga aljihunsa, ya miƙa ma Jaafar yace,
“Duba nan.”
Amsa Jaafar yayi, ya kai dubansa cikin screen ɗin wayar. Kai tsaye idanunsa suka dira kan sunan Alhaji Yusuf dake kan screen ɗin ɓaro-ɓaro. He had no need for further explanation—it’s his number—kuma number ake nuna masa, ‘the point to discuss’, ‘and the target’.
Mika masa hannu Alhaji Lawal yayi, ya amshi wayar da and keep it on the nearest tablbe, ya ci gaba da cewa,
“Yanzun nan muka gama waya da Alhaji Yusuf. He clearly showed that he doesn't want to see you again with his daughter.”
Yayi shiru na dan lokaci, sannan ya cigaba da cewa,
"Duk mutumin da zai iya kiran mahaifinka kai tsaye ya fada masa wannan maganar, he is truly doesn't want to see you with his daughter, ba mu san me meye dalilin sa ba, but, I finalized it, ka kyale musun. yarinya kada ka kara zuwa wajen ta."
From those words, Jaafar bai ƙara sanin me mahaifinsa ke faɗa ba. He was like a statue, sitting on a chair made by fire. A lokaci guda ya ji bakinsa ya bushe, his heart tightened, idanunsa suna canzawa daga fari zuwa jaa sosai. Wani abu a cikinsa ya murɗe, ya matse—har sai da ya yi ƙaramin ƙara saboda zafi.
“Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un,” ita ce kaɗai kalmar da bakinsa ke iya furtawa.
Komai ya juye masa daga fari zuwa baƙi. Despite the light in the room, idanunsa ba sa iya ganin komai. Abin da kawai yake gani—fararen balls ne wandering around his eyes.
After staying motionless for less than three minutes, ya fara jin ɗumi a fuskarsa. A hankali ya kai yatsunsa kan fuskar don jin menene. It was tears—kuka yake yi.
“Can you please get out of my room?” Alhaji Lawal ya faɗa, bayan ya jima yana kallon duk wani reactions na sa.
Jaafar bai san abin da ake faɗa ba, bai ji komai ba, ya daina ganin komai.
Maganar ya kyale Fatima is something miserable and unbearable—wani abu ne da ba zai taɓa iyawa ba, no matter how hard he force himself, he can’t.
“Dad, don girman Allah a tausaya min, wallahi ba zan iya b...”
“Shut up, my friend! Ni kake gaya wa maganar banza wai ba za ka iya ba? To je ka kashe kanka tun da ba za ka iya rabuwa da ita ba. Nonsense. Get out from here, I said!”
Alhaji Lawal ya faɗa, rage clearly appearing on his face.
“I said, get out!”
Ya ƙara faɗa with all his voice out—har wanda yake outside ɗin gidan zai iya jin tsawar.
Da sauri Jaafar ya tashi, his whole body trembling, and left the room…
To be continued…