Sakira - Season 1 - Episode 28

5 years ago

Sakira - Season 1 - Episode 28

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Sakira’s POV

Finally, we were leaving the village we had arrived at. I was so happy that I would be returning back home. Dave was okay but not still fully healed. We bid our farewell to the people of the village, got to the shore and entered the canoe with the help of Tajo. He paddled and took us to the seaport of the town.

In few hours, we arrived at the seaport.
“Thank you so much for everything” Dave thanked Tajo.

“You’re welcome. It was nice knowing you” he smiled.

I smiled and gave a little bow.

“I guess I should be on my way” he said.

He left the seaport and headed back to the village. Dave held my hand and looked at me and we made our way to the ship.

“This is it, our final destination” I smiled.

“No not yet. We haven’t arrived at your country yet have we” Dave teased.

Dave gave our documents and we were allowed to board the ship. After a while the ship left the shore and began to move.
I felt within me a happiness that cannot be expressed. I felt the freedom that I awaited for quite a while.

“It’s strange not finding you about to puke now” a voice said and I turned to see Dave.

I smiled remembering the first time we met. He came closer to me and held my hand.

“We did it kira, we finally made it……together” he said and I smiled.

After a few days we arrived at Nigeria and we transported ourselves back to my village. We actually did not come with anything.

In my village when you go somewhere more advanced than our place, they expect you to bring something from that place. But in my case, I came back with nothing because life there was not as rosy as it seems.

Each step we took, people looked at us with surprise. They were mostly surprised about Dave and not me because he is a white man. We reached my village and those who recognized me ran to me.

“Sakira!!!!!!” Gbenga shouted and hugged me.

“Oti yato” he spoke to me in my language. “Ha ha kilo wa sele? Oti e pe wa” he asked

“Gbenga, aye o da” I shook my head.

Then I heard a slight cough and I turned to Dave.

“If you don’t mind I would like to know what you guys are talking about” he said slightly feeling left out.

“Sorry” I smiled. “Dave this is Gbenga, my childhood friend.”

“Eh Gbenga, Oko mi re” I said.

“Eh!!!! Oko eh? Iro Ni” he laughed

“What did you tell him” Dave whispered.

“I told him, you are my husband” I said.

“Oh and he finds it funny” he said looking irritated and I smiled.

We left Gbenga and headed to my house. As soon as we arrived, I stopped in my track and found myself not moving.

Dave’s POV
We stopped at a particular building. The body was built with clay and the roof was made with hay. Everything about them was different from me. In London, houses are made with furnished and treated wood. Everything here was not developed.

“Are we there?” I asked her and she nodded. “Then let’s go in” I said as I held her hand.

Before we took another step, someone came out of the house, noticed Kira and dropped the clay pot on her and and it broke.

She was like an older version of Kira, she must be her mother. I let go of Kira’s hand as the woman ran to embrace her. She cried and so did kira. Then she shouted and some other people came out from the house and ran to hug Kira. I smiled at all of them and felt a little sad when I remembered my father. The they all spoke in their language and it felt so annoying when I couldn’t get a thing they were all saying.

After a while of this embracing and crying, they finally acknowledged my presence. At least now they notice me.

Sakira’s POV
My mother apologized and so did my father. They told me they saw my letters which was through the help of Dave. I told them all that happened and how Dave saved my life. Then they looked at him.

“Hi” he waved and I smiled.

I was amazed at his lack of understanding to our tradition.

“You collected a bullet for my daughter?” My father asked in his Yoruba accent.

“Well…I guess” he smiled.

“Thank you” my father said as he held his hand.

“You’re welcome” Dave smiled

“You are welcome to our land. We are Yoruba and you must be londonian” my father said and Dave gave a short laugh.

“Actually, I’m from London and not a londonian. I’m British” he said.

“Oh good. I tank God you are nothing like Mr Frank.” My father said.

Later in the evening we all jollied and celebrated my return. Dave did some dances and that made my family to laugh.

It’s good to be back.