gist

Saturday, 7 January 2017

Episode two My name is Hannatu

Most times, people are buried almost immediately after death but my mother insisted that the burial waited till my siblings were around. So my dad was buried 4 days later as against the norm in our culture.
Our house was full..
All my siblings were around..
My 20year old elder brother Nuhu, studying in a polytechnic in kano and who I haven't seen in a long time was home along with Hussaina, Loveth and Kauna; My 3sisters all schooling in the main city of Jos. My dad was always determined to give his children the best education. He believed it was crucial to our success in life and now I totally agree with him.
I was happy to have us all together but not under this circumstance..
Vistors trooped in and out of our house, offering condolenses and words of encouragement.. they brought us food and I was happy. I didn't what that to end. "Why do they wait till something bad happens before people start being good?" I asked myself. Lol.
But I didn't care. Life was good. I was happy. Foolishly happy because I did not understand my dad was gone forever. I did not know that my life was about to take a turn I had never imagined would happen.
The compulsory period of mourning was over and it was time for everyone to return back to their base. That was when my mother called my siblings together, informing us that they would have to quit school after two sessions were over as the money available would only be enough to take them so far. Nuhu quickly objected that there would be no need for that as he was prepared to work and see himself through school so some more money could be left over for my sisters to finish school.
Things got tougher financially for as as the years rolled by. My mother was a hard working and determined woman. After she had put us to bed, she would go outside, sit and sing in tears. That was how she prayed. That was the only way she knew how to talk to God.
Three years later my sisters were back to the village to stay. Hussaina was able to finish but my other sisters couldn't. We began to go to farms to work in other to survive and support our mum in the running of the house. Well, they worked, because I just went along to play and eat fruits which they handed over to me when they picked any..
It was on one of those days that the worst happened...
...
Continues tomorrow

Episode one Hannatu's story

My name is Hannatu Naomi Isiaka.. I'm 19 years old.. The story I'm about to tell started over 10years ago.. precisely when I was six..
I was born into a family of 6.. 4girls and 2boys, I being the 5th child.. My mother was a petty trader, at least before she lost her sight 6years ago. We lived in a relatively large house in a small settlement in plateau state. My father had built this house when the farming buisness was booming.. He died when I was 6 and that is where my story begins...
That night my father came back home bleeding seriously as he tried hard to make it into the house.. My mother rushed from her corner where she was making dinner and I was playing close by with my younger brother. My dad collapsed before my mum could reach him. She screamed for help as she tried to stop the bleeding and get him to tell her what had happended.. but none was near by.. My dad could barely talk.. I watched helplessly as life was gradually sipping out of his body. My mum left him there on the ground to look for help. As I watched paralysed by fear, my dying father motioned to me with his hand, asking me to draw closer. I did with all the energy I had and I knelt down beside him and he whispered a word to me in our dialect which meant "fight".. My 6 year old mind did not have the capacity to understand that word or what it meant but it seemed to go straight to my spirit.. He held my hand with his last strenght and then released his grip. I knelt there starring at him, as if waiting patiently for him to get up and explain what was happening to me.. But he was still, motionless, cold.
Few minutes later my mum ran in with my aunty and two other men.. She looked at me and then at my dad's body and she turned white. Kicking me out of the way she reached for him screaming "baba Nuhu".. "kar ka yi mini haka dan allah baba nuhu" (don't do this to me please).. But he was gone. My father was dead.
........
Continues tomorrow
Having a great time with the students of Race course government school kano..
Never get carried away by what is going on in your own life that you forget there are people out their who need your help.. doesn't necessarily have to be money.. Just be intrested in lives of other people...
These girls have dreams and the limitations are enormous but with your inspiration they can make it...
We must help these ones fight and win!...
#GISTMH (GIST Mentorher) coming soon

Slaying lady

Flames of fire right here!!!!!
How many Slaying Gisters in the house?
Whoooosh!!!!🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
Tag your slaying partner and pray this together