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Zaina stood in front of the old mango tree with her luggage in hand. She froze as memories came like hot flashes. She saw herself and Idi drawing pictures in the sand and guessing shapes in the sky. They made promises to remain best friends and they did till their teenage years. Zaina and Idi shared secrets, inside jokes, and a little more than simple moments. Their entire childhood was spent around Inna’s farm fruits, smoky meals, and bedtime stories.
One late harmattan evening, as Zaina and Idi shared company at their hangout, Idi suddenly jumped down from the mango tree and looked Zaina in the eyes, his breathing heavy and steady.
“What is wrong?” Zaina narrowed her eyes at his chest.
Idi parted his lips but no words came out so he ran. The next day, Idi left the village without a proper goodbye. He only left a note that Zaina never read. Once again, the feeling of abandonment she had nurtured many years ago when her parents died returned.
Moving on was hard but she tried. Zaina buried herself in work and studies. Soon, she got a scholarship to a reputable university in the city. She never tried to reach out to Idi and she wondered if he ever did.
Time went by fast and Inna’s health began to fail. Zaina decided to return to the village and take care of her grandmother even if it was the last thing she did for her.
As if jolted by a force, Zainab opened her eyes. She turned to Inna’s old hut where she saw someone leave. She paused for a moment to take in the place that defined her childhood. Everything looked preserved even with the passing of time. Inna remained rooted in her ways maintaining her clay house and the ways of the ancient.
Zaina let herself in. She met Inna sitting and staring blankly. Suddenly, she blinked. “Ummh,” she clicked her tongue. “The drumming has begun. The valley beyond the boabob is awake. When two lovers pair, the drums go to sleep.” Her parched lips slowly sealed and her eyes opened.
Zaina eyed Inna suspiciously before she gave her a long hug. “Have you been taking your medicine, Inna?”
“What is the use of all that medicine, Zaina? It is almost time. Welcome home, my child.”
Zaina sat there trying to connect Inna’s words with her dreams. Perhaps it was one of her tales. Also, it wasn't new for her to act out of character sometimes. Strange stories at dawn, standing in the middle of fields alone at night, and even speaking strange languages were some of Inna’s weird sports.
“Inna, I keep dreaming of the baobab and the sound of drums. You must have told this story before.” Zaina rubbed Inna’s arm gently and smiled.
Inna only nodded as if confirming something. She looked into Zaina’s eyes a little longer and smiled. “You should go and watch the village festival. I hear they have a lot of dancers this year. You used to love the dance.”
“I only just got here, Inna. Perhaps I'll go later.”
“Go, my dear. Have fun and relax. I will be fine.” Inna pressed on Zaina’s tensed shoulders. “The village will be good to you, I promise.”
Zaina reluctantly walked to the square where celebrations were at their peak. She slowly began to ease into the moment. Inna was right. The village always treated her well. She had forgotten about the spirit of love and laughter that always thrived in the village.
There were dancers and drummers dressed in the most beautiful wrappers and beads just as she remembered them. Villagers displayed beautiful wares and their smiling faces.
Zaina picked up a beaded bangle. She remembered how she and Idi would greedily get free treats from stall to stall. Then they’d end up with runny stomachs and Inna would scold them. Zaina wanted to smile but she didn't like that everything reminded her so much of Idi.
Inna called the festival, the pairing. She used to tell them that the festival was of spirits, love, and sacrifice. That the spirits brought two people together in love. These two would go on to make sacrifices for the people and become the keepers of love until their time was up. Without this pairing, the descendants of the village would not experience true love in their lives. It is the reason the village was called Ařun- love people.
As Zaina dropped the bangle, she lifted her head only to see Idi in the crowd. Zaina blinked but he was still there in flesh and blood. Older and broader but with the same intense gaze. Zaina tried to avert her gaze but Idi caught it too fast. Disheveled, she began walking away as quickly as she could.
“Zai! Zai!” Idi caught up with her but she would not stop walking. “Come on, Zaina.” Idi tried to hold her hand.
“Don't touch me,” Zaina screamed without looking at Idi. She blinked the tears in her eyes and walked away.
“You knew he'd be at the festival didn't you?” Zaina stormed into Inna’s hut fuming.
“Sit down Zaina. He only came here just before you arrived.”
“He thinks he can come back after all these years? What did he want?” Zaina paced the room.
“He thought he'd meet you here. And like you, he said he's been dreaming about the baobab. He remembers your past together and that's a good thing.”
“I can't believe you, Inna.” Zaina walked away.
That evening, Zaina went to bed early. She was restless and couldn't seem to quench the burning in her heart. At midnight, she began to hear distant sounds of drumming. Her eyes opened wide. It was the same sound from her dreams.
Zaina sat up listening. Suddenly she went outside. It was eerily quiet and there wasn't a single soul in sight. Zaina began walking towards the sound. When she got to the river, she saw a drum beating without hands. Only rays shimmered from the thunderous sound and the ground vibrated. She looked ahead to the boabab tree where she saw a figure. Zaina’s fear had been replaced with a strange beckoning so she proceeded.
Standing in front of the baobab was Idi. Zaina stood side by side. Beyond the tree was a path that should not exist - a hollow valley untouched by time.
Idi glanced at Zainab and without a word, they both walked over. The valley looked too beautiful but it was starting to feel wrong.
Suddenly the river behind them became violently turbulent and the drumming grew louder, echoing their fears back at them. Strange wind bellowed and the path behind them began to close.
Idi braced himself and Zaina swallowed hard and closed her eyes. They both began to imagine dying there and becoming one of the village’s unfinished fables.
“I'm sorry I left!” Idi’s voice competed with the terror in the air. “I had to go and become a man first. I wrote you a note—”
“A piece of paper Idi? A note for all the years spent together and the following years of loneliness and unanswered questions? I thought there was something wrong with me. First it was my parents, then you. All the people I lo-” Zaina pushed Idi’s hand. The more he tried to hold her, the more she struggled.
“I love you, Zaina,” Idi yelled on top of her voice. I didn't know what to do with my feelings especially if you didn't love me back like that.” Idi’s voice began to soften and Zaina stopped struggling.
They didn't realize that the horror in the air had stopped. It was as though it was waiting for that heartfelt moment between the two of them.
Zaina wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She slowly looked around. “I-I think we are the story, Idi.” Her eyes widened.
“This is unbelievable. We paired. Inna's stories aren't mere stories.” Idi rubbed his head trying to fully grasp what had just happened.
He moved to hug Zaina. She didn't resist this time. She only closed her eyes and let the tears pour freely.
When she opened her eyes, she was back in her bed. She quickly ran to Inna’s hut. Inna just lay there still and cold but with a smile on her face.
“And it is time, Inna. Rest on,” she whispered.
