Story Time - Again!!!!! - by Ibn Abdullah 🦁

Turns out that wasn't the end!!!! Let's pick up where we left off. Akram did not want to even look at Farouq’s face, let alone talk to him. He ignored him all day. The next day, Farouq was determined to make amends. The earliest part of the day was spent with Farouq typing away as usual, switching between working on his novel and working on his paper. Farouq knew not the meaning of priorities. The paper, which was due at the end of the semester next month, and the novel, which had no deadline whatsoever, were equally important to him. Anyways, his laptop died, and NEPA—or whatever agency or corporation was in charge of electricity distribution—decided to let there be no light. So Farouq stood up and marched into the nursery section. Does Farouq ever teach. All he does is type and patrol. It's surprising how he still keeps his job lol. Miss Precious was busy teaching the little ones the letters of the alphabet. Princess was the most vocal and responsive. Nasirudeen was not interested, and AbdulGhafar seemed to be lost in thought. Farouq wondered what could occupy the mind of a four-year-old so deeply. TINUBUU!!!!!!! To Farouq’s surprise, Akram was also responsive. Miss Precious recited, “A is for Apple,” and the children echoed. Akram included. And so they went until, at last: “Z is for Zebra.” Farouq was singing too, by the way. Miss Precious took her seat after that and handed the children over to Farouq. They gathered around him. Princess had a tale to narrate, as usual. This time, she told Farouq how she went to Lagos. She never went to Lagos. Farouq and Princess argued about what her father’s name was. She was Princess Deborah Richard, so naturally Farouq told her that her father was Mr Richard. Princess argued. She said her father’s name was “Baban Paul.” You know, because his eldest child was Paul. Paul’s father. Princess did not care what explanations Farouq came up with. Her father was Baban Paul, and that was final. Farouq let her have it. Then came Nasirudeen and AbdulGhafar. Farouq did not know who disclosed the classified information that he was severely ticklish, but they attacked him with tickles. He almost perished from laughter. Then Farouq watched Akram. He was smiling. Farouq reached for him... And he came. Reconciliation at last. The children swarmed Farouq like flies on a wound, like locusts on a field of maize, like bees in a disturbed hive, like— Okay. No more similes. Anyways. That was how the rest of the day went. Farouq did not even realize when he fell asleep. He simply woke up and found himself sprawled across the large, round bench, with the children around him, their little heads cushioned against his arms. Miss Precious and Mrs Bilkisu were smiling. Farouq rose, stretched, yawned, and waved the children goodbye. Farouq was happy. The end.

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