50~Gimbiya Jamila #2
Joy.
Fear.
Longing.
Hope.
Everything tangled together inside her chest.
She couldn't even describe what she was feeling.
Perhaps this was what it meant to return home after believing you had lost it forever.
"Hanan."
"Mm?" She hummed absentmindedly.
"We've arrived."
She blinked and looked out the window.
The large sign standing outside the airport welcomed her.
WELCOME TO MALLAM AMINU KANO INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT.
A small smile tugged at her lips.
"I'm really here." She whispered.
"Then why are you still sitting there?" Amira laughed. "At least unbuckle your seatbelt."
Hanan remained staring through the window for a few more seconds.
"I suddenly don't know if I should leave this seat."
"What do you mean?"
"I was excited throughout the flight..." She admitted quietly. "But now that I'm actually here... I'm nervous."
She sighed.
"I don't know whether to be happy or scared."
"Scared of what?"
Hanan lowered her gaze. "I'm scared of facing Jamila."
Her voice became barely above a whisper.
"I disappeared from her life without a single explanation."
"What if she hates me?"
"What if she doesn't even want to see me anymore?"
Amira gently held both of her hands.
"Listen to me."
"You didn't abandon her because you wanted to."
"You had no choice."
"And if, after hearing your reasons, she still chooses to hate you..."
She shrugged. "So what?"
"I'm your friend too."
"Aren't I enough?"
Instead of comforting Hanan, her words only made her chest tighten.
"No."
She shook her head.
"I can't lose Jamila."
"She's more than a friend."
"She's family."
"I'll apologize."
"I'll kneel if I have to."
"I just... I can't bear the thought of her hating me."
Amira smiled softly before squeezing her hand. "I understand."
"But remember... You still have me."
"And no matter what happens, I'm not going anywhere."
Hanan smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Amira."
"Anytime, Amarya."
She stood up.
"Now come on, everyone has already left the plane."
Hanan laughed softly.
"Okay."
The two ladies were the last to step out of the aircraft.
Outside, a long convoy of luxurious black cars awaited them.
Royal guards dressed in embroidered traditional garments stood on either side, while palace drivers respectfully loaded their luggage into the vehicles.
The sight alone told Hanan where the convoy had come from.
"The palace..."
She murmured.
"Habiba."
Grandma called from one of the cars.
"Come and sit with us."
Amira gently nudged Hanan forward.
"Go. I'll ride with Amina and Nanny Ann."
Hanan nodded before climbing into Grandma's car.
Grandma sat in the middle while Najib occupied the opposite side.
The moment she settled beside Grandma and Najib smiled warmly at her.
She smiled back.
As the convoy pulled away from the airport, Grandma gently held Hanan's hand.
"I spoke with His Highness regarding the wedding."
"As you already know, he gladly agreed to host tomorrow's ceremony inside the palace."
She smiled.
"As we speak, preparations are already ongoing."
Hanan's smile widened. "I'm truly grateful."
Grandma nodded before continuing.
"I also thought about your wish... The one about getting married at your father's house."
Hanan became quiet. "I had the Emir locate your home."
Her heart skipped. "They found it."
A brief silence followed.
"Yes but..." Grandma sighed gently.
"The house has long been abandoned."
"It has fallen into ruins."
"The walls are crumbling..."
"The roof barely exists anymore."
"The villagers now use it as a shelter for livestock."
Hanan quietly lowered her eyes.
She had expected this, yet hearing the words still hurt.
"I understand." She smiled faintly. "I suppose I expected too much."
Grandma squeezed her hand.
"No. You simply wished to return home."
"And there is nothing wrong with that."
She smiled knowingly.
"Which is why... I've decided to give both of you a wedding gift."
Hanan looked up.
"I've already spoken to His Highness."
"I'll purchase a piece of land from the palace estate."
"And I'll build a home there for both of you."
"A proper home."
"So your roots will never be forgotten."
"So your children can always know where their mother came from."
"So Kano will forever remain part of your home and family."
For several seconds... Hanan couldn't speak.
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
She simply stared at Grandma in disbelief.
Najib smiled before answering first.
"That's incredibly thoughtful, Grandma. We're truly grateful."
Grandma looked at Hanan.
"My child?"
She gently rubbed her hand.
Only then did Hanan finally find her voice.
"I..."
She laughed through watery eyes.
"I don't even know what to say."
"This... This is far more than I ever dreamed of."
"My biggest dream was always to rebuild my father's house one day."
She smiled through tears.
"And somehow... You've made that dream even bigger."
"May Allah reward you abundantly."
"I'll never be able to thank you enough."
Grandma smiled lovingly.
"My happiness is seeing all of you happy."
She playfully added...
"Now all that's left is for you to grant me my own wish of holding your child soon."
Hanan laughed despite her tears.
"In sha Allah."
Grandma wiped a tear from Hanan's cheek.
"That's enough crying."
"The entire palace is waiting to welcome us."
"It won't be nice to arrive looking like someone who is mourning instead of getting married."
They all laughed.
Hanan quickly wiped her face.
"Yes, Grandma."
**"
The journey from Kano city to Hanan's village lasted several hours.
The peaceful hum of the moving convoy eventually lured Grandma to sleep.
Her head rested gently against Hanan's shoulder while Hanan smiled
watching familiar landscapes pass by outside the window.
Fields.
Mud houses.
trees.
Children running barefoot along dusty roads.
Everything felt both familiar... and strangely new.
Suddenly...
Boooooo!
The powerful sound of a Kakaki echoed through the air.
Then came the steady rhythm of royal drums.
Flutes.
Traditional guitars.
The welcoming music of the Emir's palace filled the atmosphere.
Grandma slowly opened her eyes.
"We're here."
The convoy rolled through the magnificent palace gates.
Rows of palace guards stood at attention.
Royal attendants lined both sides of the entrance, smiling warmly as they welcomed the distinguished guests.
Hanan slowly stepped out of the car.
She paused.
Her eyes wandered across the enormous palace walls, the beautifully carved wooden doors, the colorful architecture, and the bustling royal courtyard.
A nostalgic smile slowly spread across her face.
"So..." She whispered to herself. "This is what the palace truly looks like."
Once an ordinary village girl, Hanan had spent countless years dreaming of seeing the Emir's palace.
Back then, it had been nothing more than a distant dream. A place she could only admire from stories told by the elders.
She had never imagined that the first time she would step into its magnificent walls would be as a bride.
Not just any bride.
A bride whose wedding would be held inside the palace itself.
The realization filled her heart with indescribable joy.
Royal guards hurried to open the vehicle doors, respectfully welcoming them before leading them through the palace's grand entrance.
As Hanan walked alongside the others, her eyes wandered everywhere.
Every corridor reflected the rich culture of Arewa.
Ancient geometric carvings decorated the walls.
Beautiful hand painted murals narrated stories of kings and warriors.
Intricate Hausa motifs framed every doorway, while elegant lanterns illuminated the long hallways with a warm golden glow.
It felt as though history itself surrounded her.
Yet beneath her amazement, her anxiety slowly crept back.
Her thoughts drifted to only one person.
Jamila.
Would she meet her today?
Did Jamila eventually marry the Yarima as she planned?
Did she still remember her?
Hanan was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize they had reached the Emir's guests chamber until palace guards announced their arrival.
The rich fragrance of burning turare wuta welcomed them before they even crossed the doorway.
The room itself radiated royalty.
Seated upon an elevated royal throne was the Emir.
A white and brown rawani was expertly wrapped around his head.
Layers of richly embroidered baban riga, an elegant burnous, and a flowing alkyabba draped over his broad frame, making his already grand figure appear even more majestic.
His grey moustache rested above a warm smile as one hand held firmly onto his royal staff.
That was all Hanan managed to observe before respectfully lowering her gaze.
She quickly adjusted her veil over her head.
Following palace etiquette, she knelt gracefully on the floor.
It was customary for young women visiting the Emir to sit upon the royal carpet, while elders and men were invited to sit upon the cushions surrounding the throne.
Hanan settled beside Amina and Amira on the richly woven Persian carpet while Grandma, Uncle, Najib, Abdul, and Nanny Ann occupied the available seats.
"Marahaba. Sannu da zuwa. Ya hanya?"
The Emir welcomed them warmly.
"Welcome. How was your journey?"
"Lafiya, Mai Martaba. Ya hidimar biki? Ya shirye shiryen?"
Grandma answered respectfully.
"Very well, Your Highness. How are the wedding preparations progressing?"
"Ana nan ana yi, Hajiya. Kwana da yawa."
"Everything is progressing well, Hajiya. It has been a long time."
"Haka ne, Sarki. Allah ya kawo mu fadarka. Ga jikana, Najib. Ka tuna shi?"
"Indeed, Your Highness. Allah has brought us safely to your palace. This is my grandson, Najib. Do you remember him?"
Najib respectfully bowed his head.
The Emir studied him for a few moments before laughing.
"Ya girma! Ban gane shi ba. Ya kake, yaro?"
"You've grown! I almost didn't recognize you. How are you, my boy?"
Najib smiled before answering in Hausa.