Zahra and I grew up together. We were in fact childhood playmates whom circumstances brought together.It happened like this. About a year after I was born (so I was told), my mother became so ill that she could no longer take care of me.
My father, unable to cope with a very sick wife and a baby, decided to get a nanny to look after me.
That was how Nana, as I called her, came into our household. A caring woman, she became like a second mother to me.
I was an only child for a long time as my mother was unable to have another baby maybe due to her poor health. The only playmate I had was Nana's daughter, Zahra. As kids, Zahra and I were always together, playing games, climbing trees and other pastimes of the young.
We only got separated when we began school. While I attended a private school, Zahra went to a public school not far from our home.
After my secondary school education, my father decided I should further my education outside the country. My mother, who did not like me going so far away from home, was against the idea.
But my Dad insisted so I went. Two years after I left Nigeria, my beloved Nana died. I was devastated by her death as I loved her so much and she had become like a member of the family.
My parents, who thought very highly of her, had retained her as a staff, even after my younger sister Lara, born six years after me, (who she had also cared for) had grown up.
Zahra remained with my family after her mother's death. My mother decided to keep her as a domestic staff and personal assistant: she also attended a fashion design school as her ambition was to be a fashion designer.
Back to Naija
I didn't see Zahra for some years while I was at school though I always enquired after her whenever I called home and when my parents came to visit me in school.
I finally graduated and returned to Nigeria. I had plans to do a Masters degree later but I needed a holiday and break from studies first.
I was accompanied by Dave, a friend and school mate who had been living abroad for a long time and wanted to be home again.
It was a sweet homecoming. I was glad to be home, to the familiar sights and sounds- my family, Mum, Lara, my baby sister and all the other members of our household and my friends.
Not much had changed and everything looked the same. No, that was not quite true, certain things had changed.
Zahra. Zahra was different.
The skinny, tomboyish teenager I had left some years earlier had blossomed into a young woman. And a very beautiful one at that. Her eyes, large and soulful stared at one calmly from a smooth face with full, sensual lips.
The fitted pink top on a pair of jeans she wore on the day of our arrival accentuated her voluptuous figure. The change in her was amazing and I could not keep my eyes off her...
To be continued...
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