C 4. Cafeteria
Thirty-minute later, the white hall was filled with people. Almost every chair was occupied and the noises of people's conversation were jarring. I watched from the sideline. Many of them knew each other, but there are few like me: new to this kind of setting.
I may try to deny it, but it was refreshing finding myself in a group of people that are similar to me.
Suddenly, the table lit up and a screen with a list popped in. The rectangular screen stood vertically containing a food menu. Different types of dishes were listed. At the top of the screen, my name and Nationality was written, and beside it, a suggestion of changing the menu to Nigerian food only.
I select that option by tapping on the table correlating to the option on the screen. The list changed, but the difference in the dishes was small.
Ahh, there is 'Tuwo and Miyar Kuka'. This is a typical traditional Hausa food. I select it without checking the rest. Submitting my options, the screen disappeared.
Amazed by it, I ran my hand on the table feeling every inch of it. It is chilly, like a slab made out of marble: strong and durable marble.
"It is a high technology. If they wish, they can show the screen on every wall, floor and even on the ceiling." Looking at the speaker, she is a girl… an Asian, I guess. The truth is I can't distinguish between Chinese and Japanese or any person with a similar appearance. So, this girl might be Japanese!
Seeing that I did not answer her and I was just staring at her, she said, "You are a silent type."
I sighed, "Well, it has been a long time since I spoke to someone that is not an attendant or doctor."
She smiled. An understanding smile, and she extended her hand for a handshake. "My name is Mharoni Dohan."
I looked at her hand, then stood and bowed a little and said, "My name is Balarabe Shabbar from Nigeria, Africa. But you can call me Bala." 'Lady your name will be hard to pronounce.' I added in my mind.
She stared at me, still maintaining her smile before she chuckled and mimicked me and bowed a little, and said, "My name Mharoni Dohan from North-East India. But call me Dohan."
With the greetings over I nodded at her and sat back in my chair. She also dragged the other chair and rested her hands on the table looking at me, she said, "You've mistaken me for a Chinese due to my facial features, right?"
"Yeah. You are confusing. But for a Chinese to have an Indian Nationality is something common."
"No, I'm an Indian through and through. From the Nagas tribe. People claim we look Chinese, but that was only a small misunderstanding."
"Oh!" Now I scrutinized her very well. Dark black hair, fair red smooth skin. Small red libs, small nose and slender neck. Her eyes are... Big but shaped like Chinese in a way…..
Just like everyone she wore the white uniform.
"Our Nigerian neighbour prefers speaking with girls instead of boys..." A man with glasses walked and stood beside Mharoni "... Or is it me that did not know how to strike a conversation?" He was the person that spoke to me earlier, and he called himself Richard earlier.
Mharoni chuckled and said, "You are bad with socializing, but that might not be the reason why Bala did not respond to you."
"Then why? I was giving him a helping hand, but he rejected me, and here he is talking to you, Chinese, Indian." She ignored him.
I lean back on the chair, folding my hands. Is he jealous? Or is it that he feels bad that I ignored him earlier? But either way, is it not my choice to speak to whomever I want to? And besides, he spoke to me at an inappropriate time.
He looked around looking for a free chair. Seeing one he dragged it to my table and sat beside Mharoni.
"You said neighbour, are you the occupants of the four rooms in my corridor?" I asked him.
"Wrong usage of words," he coughs and continues saying, "it's not your corridor. Your room is just one of the five rooms."
"Anyway, my room is the first you meet, then that guy's room," Mharoni pointed at someone who was a bit far from us, sitting in a group, he looked at us and waved before he returned his attention to his friends.
"Abe Richard room was the third and that Beauty over there is the fourth." She stood gesturing for a very young girl that was surrounded by two young boys to come. The girl, as if saved from a lion's claws, she ran towards us.
A very short girl, she is. Big eyes, tiny mouth and smooth white skin. Her hair is dark black and very long, reaching her knees and when she spoke, her voice was like a lullaby.
Abe stood, giving her his seat. "Thank you, big brother, Abe," she said.
Was she kidnapped too? She is just a small child! About ten to twelve years of age.
I did not realize I was scrutinizing her until Mharoni said, "She is among the youngest here, next month she will reach eight." "NINE!" the little girl chimed in.
"Ahm, yes Nine." Macaroni corrected.
"Hello," I said to her. My thought is, her parents must be very worried that their child is missing and a girl at that.
"Big brother you are the one in the last room. You must have a very powerful ability to have the innermost room?" Like most energetic children, she doesn't want to sit in place. Just talking to me, she was standing and climbing the table. And leaning, getting close to me.
"Sit well, Amina," Mharoni grabs and makes her sit back. "She is Amina Zaid from England, London. She is Arab, but her parents live in England." Amina chimed in again and said, "We don't live in London, it's just we go there very often."
"Yes, yes what she said." And again, Mharoni was dragging Amina back to her chair because she did jump on the table in trying to explain herself. Mharoni shifted Amina's chair very close to her and made it easy to hold Amina from jumping around.
"You can't make me sit like this as if I'm your prisoner." Everyone in the hall looked at us when Amina shouted, and she folded her hand on her chest sulking. "You are not a prisoner dear, but you need to stay until we eat. Then you can roam around. Remember what happened when you did not eat properly last time, they forced you to eat something you don't like in your room," Mharoni patting Amina's head explaining.
"Don't worry Queen Amina, the moment we leave this place, we will go to the Park to play. And… I will be using my pass," Richard said.
As if another spark reignited she jumped on the table trying saying, "Really? La takhzib alayya."
"I promise," he said. She said okay before she sat back ignoring Mharoni's giggling. "You speak Arabic?" I asked but a second later, I wished I hadn't asked because she goes on explaining how can she be an Arab girl! Yet can't speak her language. And she asked me a question that left me wondering how the hell did she know that.
She said, "This is an insult to me, what will you feel if I ask you, do you speak Hausa, your Mother's tongue?"
How did she know I'm a Hausa person? Is that obvious when I say I'm from Nigeria? From what I experienced, most people don't differentiate Hausa from non-Hausa in Nigeria. And even my name is not proof of her knowing.
"How do you know I'm Hausa?" When she came here, neither I nor Mharoni said my name, let alone associate me with Hausa people. "You don't know, I have been to y…" Mharoni coughs and taps on Amina's head, her head bobbing up and down, cutting her off.
"It was because of me. I used to be bored sitting in one place without doing anything. So, I use my ability from time to time, or if I have a chance, to sneak peek at things," she said smiling, "one time, Doctor Peterson came with a file and I had a chance to see a bit of your info from it."
"You have a Spying Ability?" I asked her. My mind stirred wanting to know more about different abilities.
"There is no ability specific for spying. Only an ability that allows a person to see things at per distance or beyond a solid wall, or can gleam information through other means," Abe said as he nudged his glasses.
"Then, it's a Spying Ability if you can go and steal info unnoticed by anyone." "No it is not, if you call it spying, then you are associating the Ability with a crime. But the ability has so many uses that it's wrong to tie it with spying."
It doesn't matter much, but I looked at Mharoni ignoring Abe stare and said, "So, how does your Spy Ability work?" It's as if I stabbed Abe with a sharp needle, he abruptly stood up with a squeezed face.
He was about to leave the table, different food aroma penetrated our nostrils. A lot of flying circular platforms filled the room in the sky. Each moving to a specific table. Four platforms came to our table and placed themselves.
In front of me, Tuwo, wrapped in a transparent tissue paper, on a plate; And at the side, the traditional soup called Kuka was in a small bowl. Apart from that, there is a single spoon on the platform wrapped up with soft tissue paper. The last is a lemon juice drink in a bottle.
When I looked at the rest, I saw their platform is bream with different types of food. They looked at me weirdly seeing I have so little to eat in front of me.