Haunting dreams

It was hot outside. there were no clouds blocking the heat of the sun.

her veiled mass of hair had done nothing to bounce off the heat waves, it went through the pores of her head to skull, it gave a sensation of a melting brain running down her throat.

Hastening to the covers of an abandoned shop, relieved of knowing she had few more treks to cover till she was home, far from the heat, the angry faces of her unfriendly neighborhood - an epitome of life hardships.

Salima didn't like the place, the roads were dusty and not tarred, a little distance ahead, she saw hot gases escape into the atmosphere from the roasted grounds, Salima was sure anyone who would walk bare foot on it wouldn't escape burns. The place that had come to be home for them like a coven for people who had been fallen out of luck with fate, at the mercy of life.

People who were living some kind of repercussion. A jaunty face was a rare occurrence to come by, the faces were hard, like the circumstances. The hot season was even more bearable than the people.

Many heads were buried deep in surviving their hardships there was no time to spare a smile or a friendly greeting or to even look out for others.

Salima's eyes was soon drawn to the roaming children, very lean kids, children who had forgotten the warmth of being protected. too young to know life for themselves but left to be anyways. A clattering sound pulled her attention back, to her right hand side, there a boy stood shoeless. His old shirt hanging from years of being worn, it had innumerable holes in it begging to be changed. stretched out, he held his stainless bowl with something akin to hope of not getting turned out without a spare of kindness from her.

He was skinny, ringworms that had eaten up spaces of his head that looked bigger than all his lean limbs combined.

The watered eyes and chapped mouth with faint smile was a sharp sting to Salima's heart.

She resonated his pain, she saw a semblance of her tale in his eyes. except she was not holding a bowl,

same underlying misery, he was just many degrees down on the same scale. It bit her chest thinking of how many of them were out there, Victims of irresponsible parenthood.

the children who have lost the light in their hearts, in their eyes for a father's crime, a mother's foolishness.

It was one thing to make a mistake, another thing to make an innocent pay for it. A life born upon sin it knew nothing of and asked to redeem it.

Family was the bedrock of society and if poisoned, humanity was doomed.

broken homes made broken children made troubled adults made derailed society.she spared some change, it was little but given from the heart. the boy grabbed it as his face lit up and he skipped away.

It was all too familiar the feeling of waiting on others for their spares.

If you can't care for it, don't have it.

She had never pictured herself in a life where family was warfare, where you had to survive your own blood and she would not pray it for anyone. It still felt like a nightmare of few years back she had told a friend who then accused her of an overactive negative imagination

I wish you channeled the power of your mind in the positive,

you'll write a lot of bestselling books

Her friend had jested.

she was all negativity, pessimism and anger. nothing was good and the more she experienced circumstances the more she doubted it will ever be.

she was settling in it, accepting

her new life that was a reality of dreams that came to pass.

was it mentioned some where that nightmares were dreams too.

4 years ago...

The sky that day was a deep tint blue illumined with many stars spread like dainty pearls. she had become accustomed to watching the starry sky of a place akin to a cage, her solace amongst the many troubles of living a restriction - all in the name of getting an education.

Clad in a rather oversized cardigan, armor against the cold of dawn, she embraced herself half listening to her friend rant out her pain.

"I've gone three years in this school and I still don't understand why you'll be forced to wake up at 4am even on a Saturday.they are simply hellbent on draining the life out of us.

whoever made these rules is of a lineage of vampires, they thrive on blood and tears, I'm sure of that" Habiba aired her grievance as she rounded off her sweeping.

"I've accepted the painful fact that they can never serve good food but at least don't deprive me of a good night rest" she paused forcefully rooting out a stubborn weed in the way of having her chore done on time.

"You only get a good sunday sleep and in a heartbeat monday arrives again throwing you back into an unrewarding cycle capable of rendering any sane person brain dead.

I can't wait for the day I'll be out of here "

"uuuurgh" she groaned before tossing the broom at Salima and sitting herself on a locker that had been abandoned at the backyard of the dormitory since God knows when.

Salima had been absent mindedly listening to the whining of her frustrated friend, she picked up the broom to start her chore, her mind wishing to unravel what she had seen in her sleep the night before.

"that's the life of a boarder" Salima said rather curtly, seemingly disconnected from the conversation. her mind was fogged barely registering Habiba's words let alone form a decent reply.

Habiba was quick to observe the mental absence of her friend. She inquired "A penny for your thoughts"

"Nothing,

No thoughts, save your penny" Salima's reply was

"did you even hear all I said"

"Of course I did but I don't know what to say to you.you complain about the same thing every single day that I've involuntarily crammed your every statement."

every dawn when the dooming bells would rise them from sleep, Salima would hasten out to see the star filled sky. she would be quiet, stealing from the serenity of the early hours of day, and Habiba would religiously vent about her misery. it was a different coping mechanism for both of them.

"And I thought anyone should have been used to dormitory life after three years" Salima shrugged.

"Not everyone possesses the special ability of blending in any situation they find themselves" Habiba countered defensively.

"Not a special ability but adapt-ability, a necessity for every living thing to survive.why do you think plants that thrive in the deserts have less leaves. The answer is simple, even the lower organisms know.

life is dynamic and we can't always control situations we are part of, so we evolve and adjust to accommodate things we can't change - it's all about surviving" it was a habit of Salima's to digress and explain meaninglessly when she wanted to distract others from knowing her mind.

"wow, what a theory" Habiba's drip of sarcasm could not be missed.

"I know your favorite place is the school library and you have such affinity for encyclopedias, I also know you are wannabe scholar but it'll be in your own interest if you would stop delivering this lecture and get your work done in time lest those leeches who thrive on tormenting junior girls get at you"

Habiba stated in a matter of fact manner.

"shhh what if one of them hears you?" Salima warned her eyes scanning the area praying there were no senior girls in sight. Habiba had told her most times that she was overly fearful, but Salima knew she just had sensors that were too sensitive to conflicts.

"this school, and all its vampires is not a situation I can't change. it's about a matter of three months before I finally bid bye to this guised concentration camp" Habiba rolled her eyes at the hostel building like they could feel the malice she harbored for them.

"I don't even want to pass the junior finalists exams in flying colors,

I just need to be done with my papers and leave"

"Escaping this place is sure but life will happen and you won't always find yourself in pleasant situations,

would you keep dodging and escaping the ugly things life throw at you?"

Salima had paused now, her broom at her side. her eyes that choose to see worst of things keen on Habiba.

"God forbids this is the best year of my life. life can't happen worse than this hell hole" Habiba was optimistic that the boarding house was the worse that could happen to her.

"hopefully it won't" Salima continued her chore which she enjoyed, rooting out every dirt leaving nothing but grains of sand.

"It won't, better days are ahead.

be optimistic for once"

Salima wasn't praying for worst times, it was a foreboding she smelt from far. a feeling that something worst was coming, at least for her.

the restricting life of dormitory was bad enough but she's seen worse. compared to her home, dormitory was paradise yet Salima wouldn't dispute the fact that life in it was anything but pleasant,she didn't like the dormitory either she had only learned coping with what she could not change.

For a pessimist she did quite well on looking on the brighter side of things.

Yes, the food was horrible and the routine horrendous and tasking.

the teachers and dorm mistresses, nerve wrecking.the senior girls were a pain in the neck yet she found things she could appreciate it for like the few acquaintances she had made and the library that brimmed with intriguing books and monthly journal updates of the fast pace at which the world was changing and the starry night when the moon always looked like it was close enough to be touched and the times when she and her dormitory mates would talk past midnight sharing funny stories until they were sent off to bed by the senior girls.

We don't always get what we want,we only learn to live with what we have.

Once Salima was done gathering debris in the bin, she settled beside Habiba and stared longingly at the sky.

"how Magnificent is God, look at this flawless stretch.Isn't life a beautiful thing" the way Salima didn't know how to hit the nail on the head frustrated even her, she would start with a totally unrelated subject before divulging.

"It is.only when I'm out of this cage" Habiba clarified.

"and God is always Magnificent, the awe humbles me"

Friendship came with mimicking characters. And since they had become friends, Salima had inflicted Habiba with seeing beyond the ordinary. To give a name even to the most ordinary things.

"I do think the universe has a language, I wish I knew it.The sky, mountains, gravity, the earth waters. the time zones, that we exist all at once at different intervals

We're all from same particle disintegrated into many miniscule that make up this wonder of a universe.

each organism thriving in its own niche"

Existence never ceased to wonder Salima.

"You know what I think" Habiba said almost interrupting.

"What?"

"I think it's too early for such Inquisition.

my mind is yet to overcome the torture of living the routine of my next twenty four hours in the confines of this walls and you are already bombarding me with abstracts, things that mess my head up even more" Habiba thought it too early to start thinking of the root of existence.

"I thought that was meant to be a distraction"

Salima sometimes thought maybe it was only she who found such concepts amusing, that to be part of the universe was for a purpose. a purpose she hadn't known yet.

"No it's not,lighter talks will be very much appreciated.you won't die if you are a little playful, sometimes.it is a good thing to be insightful but when it is too much it's not right. As they say, too much of everything good is bad.

get other hobbies, try new things, know more people. literally, just live"

"You don't want to end up one depressed nerd who's life only revolved around books and never tasted life" Habiba advised

"trust me, it'll have an effect to never do anything outside what you like,

Try what others like too"

"you're right" Salima affirmed,

her eyes fixed upon the juvenile rays of sunlight, not wanting any more talks cutting in the glorious moment dawn passed into morning , Salima went quiet.

Habiba understood. even in her silence,she respected it, reasons why they have stuck as friends.

The sun was halfway up, its soft light flooding the horizon with tints of orange-pink. The clouds scanty above blocking some of her rays.

Nature was beauty. She wondered why anyone wouldn't acknowledge it. who wouldn't fall for nature over and over.

she threw her hands apart,wide enough to let every inch of her embrace the tickling of the cool morning breeze.

Eyes closed,letting the chaos of the world fall silent behind her, covetously drawing in currents of air gave her a feeling unmatched,

a feeling only rain could beat.

"you know you can be really dramatic sometimes" Habiba jested.

"let me love it while it lasts"

she remained in the trance. freeing herself temporarily of the chaos of mortality, she was lost in peace, like a bird let out of a cage, she soared.

"do you believe in dreams?" salima asked finally coming out of her dream like state.

"No I believe in dreaming with your eyes open" Habiba was a go-getter, she thought it and she does it.

"I mean dreams, literally what you see when you fall asleep"

Salima thought to state her thoughts clearer.

"Oh! that,

I never remember mine.I don't attach any sort of importance to it"

"I know this is hard to believe but can I tell you something"

"sure you can" Habiba nodded assuredly.

" I don't know how you're going to perceive this" she stopped unsure if she was ready to reveal what had been bothering her for the past weeks.

"I've always had this thing about dreams, like..." salima stammered lightly musing the most appropriate way to put it.

"let me put it this way,

I once saw a dream where I come across someone I hadn't seen since childhood, someone I hadn't even remembered in a long time

and that day I go out and boom I bump into them,such a coincidence, don't you think?"

"yes, coincidences like that are quite normal I suppose" Habiba had readjusted, eyes wide, she wondered what other surprise the early morning had to deliver.

" Except if its consistent, right?

then it becomes more than just coincidence, when you keep having dreams like that and they keep becoming real, would you call that a sixth sense? A premonitory one?"

Salima's questioning look had Habiba think it was the way book crazy folks looked when they badly wanted someone to believe their impractical theories. Theories that didn't even exist.

"Oh...ok?" Habiba was puzzled at her riddles, she gestured with her hands for Salima to ease her hard breath. she saw her cardigan shiver with fast heartbeats.

"I don't really get the message you're trying to pass across,you mean you foresee things? like a clairvoyant?"

"No.nothing like it,

it's just so frequent with me that I'm beginning to feel...I don't know too. I'm always feeling deja Vu, experiencing real life like it's happening a second time.

if I had the answers,trust me I wouldn't be sharing this with you.

I'm beginning to think there's something wrong with me" The terrific nightmares replayed in Salima's mind. and she shut her eyelids tight, shutting them out.

"we are literates as so should think like one, let's see." Habiba tapped her chin giving serious thought on what she had just been told.

"How often do you dream? and how often do they occur in real life? Are they bad or good ones?"

" It happens very often, and sometimes, they're good, most times bad" another wave of cold travelled Salima's spine and she adjusted her cardigan.

"my older brother is a psychologist and told me once that our dreams stem from the subconscious and they're mostly things our inner most minds have sensed that we're not aware of" Habiba countered. explaining from a logical point of view, she thought dreams as nothing more than brain imagery. It could not be anything more.

"dreams could be something you fear deeply or love,just a thought buried somewhere in your mind, It's all in your head" Habiba did not want to imply In any way that she thought it crazy.

Salima thought beyond psychology.

"and having dreams about meeting people and you bump into them the very next day?

Is that a thought buried in my mind too"

" I know nothing more than what I've told you, you should sometimes leave the abstract,It has no place in reality.

Stop looking too deep into everything"

"I never shared this with anyone because of how unreal it sounds, but believe me, this thing is something more"

"and now don't tell me it's all superstition now" disappointment written all over Habiba's countenance.

"It's not superstitious,

from a religious point of view

I'm sure you know the story of prophet Yusuf (Alayhi Salam)

when two prisoners had asked for the interpretation of their dreams.

those prisoners were ordinary people and had seen dreams in metaphorical sense. they sought meaning because dreams are sometimes inspiration from God.a glimpse of our future shown to us.In that same story, the king had seen seven thin cows eat up seven fat ones, literally cows can't eat cows but it was a symbol that seven years of starvation was to follow seven years of bumper harvests.Dreams were metaphors, a symbolism of hidden answers"

Habiba's face contorted. more lines of confusion,her mouth hung slightly open at the riddles Salima was bombarding her as early as six in the morning.

"those were the days of the past,

days of righteous men.it doesn't happen anymore"

"If those stories are not evidence that dreams are more than psychology, then I don't know what is"

"So what should I call you now?

Yusufa the dreamer-ess?. righteous one who can see the future?"

"why do you have to make talking to you such a turn off. you're reading my intents of sharing this with you wrong"

she had almost forgotten it was close to impossible to not get in an argument with Habiba. they didn't take same lane when it came to thinking. they heard different and interpreted different.

"what's the point of telling me this dream stuff in the first place, when you are after all strongly holding on to your belief that it is spiritual"

Habiba was all for factuality. If it had no back up in fields of knowledge then it was invalid.

"Ofcourse I'm so superstitious.

my mind is the root of many negative thoughts,little wonders I have such nightmares" Habiba read the look of despondency on the face of her and was quick to feel remorse for dismissing what she had shared.

"I'm sorry for taking your talk for granted

but this is not something you should mull over."

"It's not, never mind" she answered sulkily.the burning house. dust, ash, fire, dirt.The imagery stuck to her head, the fear came back so new she felt goosebumps rise. The screams. It played over and over in her mind.

"didn't want you fussing over something that's just in your head, think positivity, kill the monsters of your mind "

Habiba had barely closed her mouth when a senior girl shouted commands at them.

"I just hate how this girls take their position better than they actually are, the way they dominate and oppress like being prefect is nothing more than a dry job of watching over other people, like we're not all trapped. They're not even getting paid for this amount of stupidness." Habiba was a sharp mouth. what she hated most about the boarding house were the senior girls. The way they violated their fellow girls was sickening and even more sickening that it was considered the normal and no one raised any opposition, not even the authority of the school.

" You're right the but better hold your mouth before it lands you in trouble"

The senior girl was now near, her vicious eyes looking for a prey to make miserable for her own misery.

"girls depart portions!, to your rooms!"

day had broke and it was time for dressing their beds. the two girls and several others packed their work implements hastening out of sight, to the store room first then to their rooms.

"carry the bin" the lanky senior girl ordered, stopping Habiba in her track, pulling her by the collar.

Habiba muttered a cursed beneath her breath before picking up the bin that brimmed with dry leaves and was heavier than she expected.

The other girls had literally vanished except for Salima who was a slow pacer though her form was receding but still within earshot range, not caring if her voice irked the senior girl, Habiba yelled

"We're not done talking Salima"

**

It was sport evening, typical of every boarding house weekend.

after playing a few games, Salima retreated to solitude taking refuge behind a makeshift masjid.

not much people liked hanging out around the area making it the perfect getaway whenever her social energy had depleted from dealing with other humans aside herself.

her, existing, was already enough.

she breathed. just the dancing leaves, insect chirps and her thoughts.

her throat was parched,

turning on the tap, the smell of clean water filling her drinking bottle struck her smell buds.

She drank to her fill before pulling out a pocket-sized book from her navy blue below knee sport pants pocket.hitherto she had been pissed about the tailor's decision to make such a big pocket. it had come in handy at times when they were disallowed to be with their bags, her diary could always be close by.

"Dear diary it's been awhile, what should we talk about today?"

She formerly never bought the idea of owning a diary. it was weird. it was talking to oneself, asking questions and answering them too or having no answers at all

but when it seemed no one cared to listen to words begging to be heard, the diary was the only place for words with no ears to fall on. two days since she wrote in it last, the pen danced between her middle and index finger as she thought of what to write with it.

"I knew you'll be here"

Salima raised her head, standing before her was Habiba drenched in her sweat. her white t- shirt was brown and stuck to her skin.

"did you play soccer or have a mud bath with pigs" wonders how Habiba got such stains in a field covered with matted grass.

"You have no idea how hard the role of a goal keeper is,

thank God my ribs are still intact"

"It's not hard,

you just can't do soccer"

"like I ever saw you do any thing aside watch other people play"

"I do throws, sometimes, javelin to be precise"

salima mentioned like it was some sort of accomplishment

"and besides If I had my way. I won't be out in the fields in the first place"

"will I ever understand your obsession with locking away and writing out your everything in that short fat book of yours.If you talked more with people, your need for a diary will be less" Habiba had taken seat beside her, she smelt of sweat

" It's easier befriending books than people"

"Is this about what you told me this morning?"

"No, it's not." Salima looked away

"we don't have to say it all out. there are things to be kept to oneself"

It was a step to overcome her over - sharing habit. She didn't know what not to tell people, she said it all. It was almost like a chore to keep her mouth, well except it was her family secrets. they were too paining to utter.

"It's a good thing.

You know what's best for you" Habiba gave after a thoughtful silence

"It doesn't mean you stop sharing with people, at least the ones you trust" her comments earlier had been somewhat insensitive, she just realized.

" you have a bottle? my throat is burning,

can't drink from the tap with my palm, they're dirty" after disagreements, Habiba's truce was asking something of Salima and Salima's was to give if she asked. It was their way of forgetting and forgiving offences.

" Yes I do. here"

Habiba took the bottle, filled it, drank and remained quiet tapping the seconds away. she was thinking of the next thing to say.from where she sat, Habiba could still see a fraction of the gaming population. They were rounding off sport. Habiba's eyes fell on a familiar tall girl ordering pack up of sport material from the junior girls.

"Is that not your school mother or rather was,the sport prefect I mean" Habiba asked breaking the icy silence.

"what even happened that you two don't really talk anymore?"

needless say that Salima had answered the question several times before, Habiba found it a witty trap in stealing Salima's attention from whatever thing she was brooding. it was written all over her face. she wasn't thinking a good thought.

"I just felt like I could find my way without any one's help. School mother or not" Salima was heavy with guilt about dismissing a person who had been good to her and had lead her through the first weeks of settling into boarding life. she was no ingrate, she was not just used to being looked after. she preferred distance and slowly drifted back in to her lone way of doing things not completely cutting her school mother out but keeping her away from coming too close and her school mother took it as a cue that her company was undesired and so left Salima to herself.

"acting like you don't need people doesn't make you strong, being vulnerable is human."Habiba could read her mind as clear as a moonlit night.

"I know" she answered, her gaze distant. if only Habiba knew

that deep down the facade of a rock hard exterior was a girl silenced by cruelty, too afraid to be broken again and it was only going to take an extension of a hand of genuine kindness to pull her out of the dark.

If only any one knew.