Zakia - Episode 3

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At the early hours of the following morning, myself and the troops of men had been assembled for Subh (the morning prayer). An extremely long prayer that'd been lead by a young lad I'd overheard someone call, Iman.

He was just as unfamiliar to me as everyone else around.. yet, there'd been something about him that I'd been quite unable to place my fingers on. And perhaps, my curiosity was only due to the fact that he'd cried all through that particular prayer. 

I got the chance to see him again later that morning: That point in time when we'd been marched down to the training ground for what was called 'the morning session' . However, it'd been very difficult to approach him, as he remained glued directly behind the almighty Amir (leader). Wherever he went, he followed.. 

"You! Get over there," A deep abrupt voice had ordered, gesturing for me to move to the farther edge. And just like always, I was obedient to this  command, letting myself get lost in the realm of the strange world I'd been literally blackmailed into becoming a part of. 

There were rows of woods everywhere: Woods carved diligently into human forms. And I really didn't know what they were being used for, not until the Amir had suddenly raised his hands in mid air, before yelling with that Hausa accent I'd grown used to in such a short period, "Action!" 

At the sound of that single word, the sound of bullets erupted, and the troop wouldn't stop shooting until the carved woods were nothing but useless pieces shattered onto the bare ground. 

"Jayid jiddan! (Very good!)" The Amir commended, laughing loudly, and hysterically to himself. 

But amidst everything that was happening, and the heavy breaths I was drawing in, I couldn't help but notice Iman

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. Stood behind the Amir who seemed to find it all amusing, he held a completely straight-face, making it quite difficult to know what he really felt about what was going on..

Was he in support of it? 

Or was he not? 

I really didn't know, and it really didn't matter either, as the rest of the morning session continued with the same chaos. The sound of bullets being shot remained incessant, and I could've almost sworn my presence there had been completely forgotten, if Kabir's gaze hadn't met mine some several hours later. 

Just like every army, there seemed to be an hierarchy in this group too. And after the Amir, Kabir seemed to have the second final say. 

He didn't exchange any words with me. All he did was gesture for me to come along, which I did with hurrying steps. 

"Ya Usaynah (Oh Usaynah)," He coaxed, fiddling with the hem of my hijab. Just like the Amir, he always had a dark mask on, and so it was almost impossible to tell what he really looked like. "Where's your pistol?" He added much later, an afterthought. 

"Here," I offered weakly, displaying the dark weapon in my shivering hands. Ever since I'd accepted it, I'd been warned never to let it go. 

"Okay, good. Now shoot!" He ordered, as emotionless as ever. 

"Huh?" I found myself saying, staring at him with eyes wide, and mouth agape. 

"I said shoot!" He insisted harshly.  

At this point, everyone's expectant gaze was trained upon me, and I was honestly left with no other choice. I really wasn't quite sure how to use the pistol, but I'd be stupid to have asked in that intense situation. 

So, pulling the trigger just like I'd seen the rest of them do, I watched the bullet escape with an incredible speed, making a hole right through the chest of the innocent wood. 

I killed it. 

Just a single aim and I killed it. 


*  *  *

Day by day, I felt myself slowly blend into the Al-jihad (fighting in the course of Allah) system. The morning session became a familiar routine; holding onto dangerous weapons didn't make my heart skip anymore; the sound of gunshots became melody to my ears. I knew I was fitting in quite rapidly, the Amir (leader) knew it, and so did everyone else too.. 

Barely a month had clocked, and I was already feeling at home in Younous's Empire.

"Ya Usaynah (Oh Usaynah)," He'd called upon me after Asr (the evening prayer) that day, "Right now, I'm really proud of you, no doubt..

Read " Instinct: The Sequel " by the same author ( Ishola Ubaydah )

. but not completely. I still want to see how well you'd perform on the battlefield." He'd said to me vaguely. 

And that very night, sleep had been a difficult feat, as my mind wouldn't stop wandering back to what he'd said to me. I wondered what he meant by  'battlefield'; my curiosity was evidently at its peak.. However, things didn't become clear until two days after, when he had suddenly marched onto the training ground, together with Iman, who was never without him. 

"The War is now!" He yelled with a familiar Hausa dialect. 

"The War is now!" He wouldn't stop yelling. 

At this mere pronouncement, everywhere became rowdy. I watched as the troops of men immediately load weapons that I hadn't even known existed, into the back of the rows of van that had remained immobile throughout my stay there. 

Apparently, the war was somewhere, and we were all going to meet it. 

"Usaynah!" I'd heard the Amir(leader) yell for me. "You're coming with me!" He ordered. I was submissive to his command, just as always, and followed his hurrying steps towards a better looking vehicle. The Amir occupied the back seat, whilst I stayed in front together with Iman who was the driver. And this gave me the opportunity to study him more closely.

There was something about the way he looked that told me he'd rather not go to this so-called battlefield; there was something about the way he kept tapping on the wheel that told me he was anxious; there was something about how slowly he drove that told me he'd rather stay back. 

"Iman!" The Amir had suddenly let out abruptly, making my heart do a somersault. 
"Yes Father," Iman responded anxiously. It was also the first time I'd heard him speak. 

"Drive faster!" The Amir yelled impatiently. 

I watched Iman do as ordered. However, it took a while for the new information I'd just discovered to really sink in. 

Younous Bn Abdullah (Younus the son of Abdullah), the Amir (leader) of the Al-jihad sect, is the father of Iman.

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