The humid and cold air of early May hit me square in the face just as I descended the airplane. My head getting fuzzy and light with each step and my Louboutin heels making clanky sounds as heels meets with the metal stairs. Out of sheer curiosity, I had made an attempt to ask the air hostess why we're walking down the stairs and not through the tube like it's done in other airports around the world, but I changed my mind last minute. This is Nigeria after all, you make do with what you have.

The airport was beautifully lit with lights, the runway especially. Moving in the crowd of passengers who just alighted from Air France,I  headed into the building of  Nnamdi Azikiwe international airport . I waited patiently through all the security checks,which was painfully slow,till it was my turn. After I was done with security, I quickly rushed to the ladies room and changed out of my comfy jeans and yellow knit sweater into a loose atamfa gown with bright embroideries. I later picked up my luggage and headed out searching for my ride.

The airport was filled with laughter and a lot of screams. Families reunited, soulmates meet. I was supposed to be happy because I was returning home to my family,but reverse is the case. I wasn't in the slightest excited about returning to Nigeria. On an honest note,I never wanted to return to this place. Its been four years and I still don't regard it as a  home after all the person I'm supposed to run home to is back in Marseille, France. I clutched her ruby red chiffon hijab tighter which I had snuck into my backpack as I pulled my luggage,my heart getting heavier with each step.

Abba Waziri already informed me that he sent the driver to fetch me at the airport,and when I saw a man dressed in a black suit  holding a cardboard that read 'HRH Maryam Suleiman' I knew he was the one. I couldn't resist rolling my eyes.
First off, I'm  not 'Her Royal Highness', I so much hate the fact that people have to regard me with that title. I didn't choose to be the Waziri's daughter and if I ever had the chance to change that,I'd rather be a daughter of a college professor. On a second note,people forget the fact that my name is spelled 'Miriam' not Maryam. But it doesn't matter anyway.

I pulled my trolley towards him and smiled politely.

"Hi! I'm Miriam Suleiman" I said with a smile. He immediately stood upright and acknowledged me.

"Welcome to Nigeria your royal...."

"Thank you" I interrupted him before he could say anything that'll piss me off or decide to curtsy. I should count my lucky stars today that some palace guards were not sent here to receive. I couldn't imagine how chaotic it was going to be.

He offered to pick my luggage and because I was jetlagged, I couldn't say no. I let him carry my trolley bags while I held on to my backpack as I followed him to the black SUV that was parked a few meters away.

Few minutes later we were on the road heading to Maitama District where the guest house was located. Since I arrived a few minutes past 9pm,Abba decided I spend the night in Abuja in his guest house and then I'll be leaving to Zaria the following morning. Here in Nigeria, its safer to travel when the sun is high up in the sky and you can see what's coming your way from miles ahead.

I rested my head on the headrest and sent an instant message to my Ma letting her know I've arrived safely. I waited a bit for a reply and when I didn't get one,I knew she was probably asleep.

Half an hour later, we arrived at the guest house. I can remember few years ago,it was just a plain white house that stood in the hills of Maitama with shrubs and creepers running all around making it look like an old castle from the 80's. But now,it has been transferred into something spectacular.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The crystal clear water fountain, the huge French windows and the perfectly cut shrubs. Everything was so exquisite. Abba has really done well with this property. It could pass as a three star hotel somewhere in Marseille.

Two uniformed maids picked up my luggage ,which was retrieved from the trunk by the driver and I followed them inside. I was greeted by two spiral staircases and an enormous chandelier that hung in the middle which was housing almost 150 crystal bulbs. The view was beautiful. I was led up to my 'suite' which had a single bedroom,a bathroom,a kitchenette and a living room with a mini study. Everywhere is decorated in rich Versace furniture.

I sighed as I bounced on the four poster bed,my legs swinging from the edge of the bed. I felt a little much better after the long flight. The maids arranged my boxes on one side of the room and left.

I closed my eyes and let my mind be consumed with so many thoughts. I was already missing the bedroom I shared with my half sister,Leilah. She had all the white stuffs and I had everything that screams 'color'. I miss how we would whisper to each other in the dead of the night so we won't wake our parents. I reached for my phone to text her but then the intercom rang,interrupting my thoughts.

I just arrived? What is this again? Can't I just nap for like 12 hours and then look for room service?

I answered when it rang again anyway.

"Hello?"

There was silence on the other line.

"Hello?"

I hope to God this is not Leilah trying to do one of her prank calls on me.

"Good evening ma'am. How was your flight?"A voice with a heavy British accent asked.

Okay?

"It was good Alhamdulillah "

"I'm calling from the kitchen. Please what would you like to have before the jetlag takes over you? Some hot tea perhaps?"

I tried hard not to giggle, but I couldn't resist. The man was funny.

"Actually I'm really hungry. Can I have something more 'wholesome'?"

"Sure. Anything you want Ma'am"

I thought hard, but my brain was just buzzing with nothingness. I sighed into the phone.

"Just...anything" I stated. "With a lot of cheese" I added,my mouth watering at the thought of cheese. Oh how I've missed Ma's mini cheese slices. She always snuck some into my lunch packs.

"Cheddar? Mozzarella? Feta? Tellegio?"

Okay now I'm impressed with this man's knowledge of cheeses. If I didn't know better, I'd say he's trying to show off or something.

"Just the Feta will do" I smiled into the phone.

"Very well Ma'am. Your dinner will be up in a while. Have a restful night" he said and hung up.

I can't believe I'm having cheese immediately after I've arrived. Who would've thought?

I decided to freshen up a bit before my dinner arrives.

I pulled my trolley into the bathroom because I was too tired to unzip it and take out my toilet bag and pajamas, but then when I got into the bathroom I realised I still had to do that before I could shower. Way to go Miriam!

I had a warm and cozy shower. I changed into a loose cotton shirt that went past my knees and black sweats. I tied my brunette hair in a high bun. I took my reflection in the full length mirror that was getting fuzzy due to the steam from my shower.

I looked exactly like Dahlia Omair,my mother and a high school teacher in Marseille. The curly shoulder length hair,the slim brows and of course the tiny mouth that never shuts up.  My eyes of course are that of Suleiman Adamu,the crowned Waziri of Zazzau. The long eyelashes too. And let me not forget the nose. And my skin, well that'll be thanks to the different skin tones of both my parents. People see me and the first thing that comes to their mind is 'Halfcaste'. Well I am one.

I could hear my bedroom door being opened and so I exited the bathroom. An appetizing aroma crashed with my olfactory system as I walked into the room. A maid was just removing the food from the food cart and placing it on the oak wooden center table. I thanked her as she finished arranging the meal and I sat on the floor to eat my food.

A plate of Bouillabaisse lay alongside another plate of fluffy croissants. My sliced Feta cheese lay seductively by the side and just the mere sight of two cute ramekins glistening with cremè bruleè was driving me insane. Most of my favorite things on a platter. I think I'm about to cry.

How did this guy knew I was French? Well...half French. But really the four years I've spent in France has turned me automatically into a full raised French woman.

I was as hungry as a lion and surprisingly, I finished every single thing on the platter. The Bouillabaisse tasted almost like how Ma makes it. So delicious and creamy with the right amount of shrimps and Congers. Oh how I miss her right now.

After my meal, I decided to FaceTime Leilah.

"Conne(Idiot)!" I called in french as her annoying face appeared on the screen.

"Miriam!" She squealed and jumped on her study chair,her ponytail bouncing behind her "Comment allez vouz?(How are you?)" She said smiling sweetly,her braces showing.

"Heyy" I rolled my eyes "ça va bien(I'm fine). Oú est la maman?(where is mom?)"

"Elle dort(she is sleeping)" she replies as she bites her nails. I hate it when she does that.

" Pourquoi vous n'avez pas dormi encore ?(why haven't you slept yet?)"

" Arrêtez d'agir comme une grande soeur(stop acting like a big sister)" she rolls her eyes at me and I laugh. We basically have nothing in common but that eye roll? We always hit it on point. Right time, right person.

"Je suis une grande soeur(I am a big sister) Leila" I reply in a 'duh' tone.

"Whatever .J'ai l'école demain( I have school tomorrow),goodnight" she waves at me.

"Bye. I dont love you and I dont miss you" I say with a pout.

She laughs softly. Her beautiful laugh.

"Je vous aime. I love you". She blows a kiss and smiles.

I love you too

I hung up and climbed up to bed cuddling myself up in a ball as I await sunrise. My journey to Zazzau begins at cock crow. With a heavy heart,I say my prayers and close my eyes to sleep but I couldn't. Tomorrow is gonna be hectic.

My phone's alarm buzzed at exactly 5am. I scrambled out of bed with a splitting headache as I blindly made my way to the bathroom. I performed wudu (Ablution) and prayed Subh then I quickly showered and changed into a white laced top and pink cup skirt. I wrapped a pink and white floral hijab and applied some little makeup. Some light foundation and a little eyeliner,mascara and candy yum yum lipstick. I sprayed my favorite Victoria secret body mist. I took in my reflection in the full length mirror and smiled at myself. At 21,I was a really good looking young woman. I was a good replica of my mum. Only thing left was for me to be as strong as she was. And as independent too.

With the help of the maids,I dragged my luggage downstairs. My breakfast of French toast and coffee was waiting for me. I was hoping for something much more exquisite but I gobbled it down anyway since I was hungry and was running outta time. Ma called just as I was finishing.

"Hey Ma Ma" I said excitedly into the phone as I struggled to strap my nude H&M block heels.

I can hear her smile from the other side "Mon Cherie.Comment ça va? How are you?"

"Great. Just getting ready to head to Zazzau. Êtes-vous déjà à l'école? Are you already in school?"

"No, je suis en route. I'm on my way. I just dropped Leilah off"

I can hear some car honking and I figured she was driving. I didn't want to distract her giving by the fact that she easily gets distracted at the slightest thing so I decided to end the call as quickly as possible.

"Okay. Have fun. I'll call you when I reach Zaria"

"Okay.je t'aime "

"I love you and I miss you. Byeeee" I said cheerfully.

She laughed heartily "Bye Mon Cherie"

The car was out front by the time I was through and all my stuff was inside. I hopped inside the black Mercedz GLK 450 and we headed to Zazzau.

I slept throughout the journey because I didn't get the chance to sleep the other night. The jetlag was kicking my ass.

At exactly 10:15am,we arrived at Zazzau. My heart was already beating erratically as we neared home. I kept fidgeting on my seat and my palm was sweaty as hell.

Breathe Miriam.....Breathe. I kept on repeating the mantra on and on trying to calm myself.

The car pulled up at the entrance of the Waziri's palace and I nearly passed out as fear washed over me. The deed is done. I'm here again. After all these years,now I'm back to the same hell hole I ran away from. I closed my eyes and tried breathing through my nose but I couldn't. The door opened and I turned to see a palace guard dressed in a green and red robe acknowledging me with a nod. I smiled and got down. I fished out my RayBan shades from my bag and wore them.

I took in the view in front of me. Nothing has really changed,apart from the new fleet of cars parked at the spacious parking space, the house was still the same. Old and ancient as I left it. With lots of traditional arts marring the walls and a alotta drama brewing within.

I wasn't a visitor or a foreigner and so I just knew where I had to go to the moment I alighted from the car.

The West Wing.

That is where all the wives of the Waziri reside including their maids and servants. It houses four main chambers which was originally made for his four wives(my step mums and my mum) but the fourth one is now occupied by his mother,my grandmother. Each chamber has four bedrooms,two living rooms with the second situated in the master bedroom, five bathrooms; the fifth being in the main living room, a kitchen, courtyard and servant's quarters.

It's a royal Hausa family so you should expect more than one spouse and a lot of kids and grandkids too.

As usual,I met almost five palace guards guarding the entrance to the West Wing. Immediately,the two guards behind me decided this is the best time to announce my arrival.

"Maraba da zuwan BATURIYA*. Maraba da zuwa masauratar Zazzau. Maraba da wannan Baquwa. ......."

I clenched my fists by my side,nose flaring as I walked into the gates. If I had the chance,I could've punched them in the face. I hated the word 'Baturiya' with passion.

Ever since I reached the age of six,and fully understood the consequences of interracial marriage,and finally realized I was mixed race, I knew I didn't belong in 'thier world'. Growing up with a racist of a grandmother who hated my mum so much was enough torture. I was nicknamed baturiya; an outcast, a foreigner. In my own father's house where I had equal rights with the rest of his non mixed race children.

This was one of the things I was dreading but I came prepared. I was determined to face all the shenanigans that were bound to happen on this day. I am strong. I need to be strong for Ma and for myself. There is no room for tears and I can't afford to be affected by their words.

And so with my head held up high,I entered my grandmother's quarters with a Salaam, removing my shoes and shades by the door.

A very welcoming scent of incense sticks and Arabian perfume bombarded my nostrils. Just as I expected, her majesty the 'Queen' was in the main living room with her board of gossipers surrounding her. Her eyes widened as our eyes met.

Surprised to see me old lady? I mused.

She composed herself and maintained her demeanor and grim look as I squatted down and greeted her.

"Barka da Rana Hajiya Babba(Good afternoon)" I greeted as I settled myself on the posh Italian carpet in her living room. It was not surprising that after all these years,there still was no single chair in her living room apart from the one she sits on. All others have to sit on the floor because she's the 'Queen' and when the Queen sits on the chair,others sits on the floor.

She gives me a disdained look,a glint of shock in her eyes.

"You still haven't forgotten your father tongue after four years? I'm impressed"

For heavens sake what is a father tongue?

"Barka kadai" she finally answers "How was your trip?"

"Fine Alhamdulillah" I replied,my head glued to my nails.

"To what do we owe this visit?"

To what do we....? Someone should punch me right now. Has she been watching some soap opera lately?

"Abba sent for me." I replied curtly.

"Oh yes he did. I asked him to."

Of course I knew you asked him to do so. After all,you're the superior over him. What even....

I was tempted to roll my eyes at her but I kept my cool.

"Your room is already ready. I wasn't expecting you today though. You may go in and rest. We will have a meeting when your father returns from Fada(the palace)." She stated. "And by resting,I don't mean you should go in there and lock yourself up. You have to go and greet all your mothers"

I was definitely going to go and rest even without your consent your royal highness. Stop acting all too bossy. And I have only one mother,the person you hate so much.  I wanted to say all this but instead,

"Sure. Na barku lafiya" was all I said as I acknowledged the others.

The maids helped me with my luggage to the last room at the end of the corridor which belonged to my mother before she moved out. It was the second largest after the master bedroom. It has big French windows and long drapes the color of the sky. Fresh flowers grow on the window panes. A bookshelf stood at the far end of the room and a reading couch placed beside it. The room has an aura of a 1960's classic movie. I was already planning on redecorating but the moment I stepped my legs inside, I changed my mind.

I pushed my things inside the reasonable sized closet and got into the shower. I had a quick scrub and performed wudu. After my Zuhr prayer and some Nafil(voluntary prayer),I dressed up in traditional attire. A simple black and white embossed atamfa gown. I wrapped an off white veil round and sprayed some perfume. I slipped into my white Vinci flats and headed out.

The four main chambers are located in a squarish landscape,two of which are facing the other two and are separated by a slim gate. I started with the one nearest to Hajiya Babba's. That is where the eldest Wife,Umma resides. She has four kids,all boys whom are all older than I am. Three are married and have kids while the fourth one is unmarried after his wife died years ago. They go by the names Abdullah,AbdulRahman,AbdulRaheem, and AbdulMalik.

Umma was out of town and I was more than glad. I met her house helps and some other girls whom I know to be her nieces. We exchanged pleasantries and after some chit chat,I decided to leave because I was really uncomfortable. They weren't very welcoming.

Mama,the second wife is the one with the five Heroes. Two of which are in the army and the rest are either in university or secondary school. AbdulSalam is now a Lieutenant and AbdulMu'umin is a Colonel. Both are happily married and living with their families in Lagos. AbdulMuhaimin is yet to graduate from the Nigerian Defence Academy and AbdulAzeez is just starting the same school. AbdulJabbar is in his last year in Air force secondary school. A family of Armed forces yeah? Well they're kinda the coolest brothers I have.
At least I have a back up when I look for trouble.

Her chamber is always the rowdiest one because she comes from a very big family of the Maiduguri Emirate. She has a lot of  visitors coming in and going out 24/7 not to talk of her board of directors from the Orphanage she runs from home.

I was welcomed with open arms. She was so happy to see me, even though she was in a middle of a meeting. She hugged me affectionately and awwwed at how I've grown so much into my mum. She was always the nicer one and the loving one. I could remember, they got along really well with Ma. They were like best friends. Mama had very good educational background and lived most of her life in the United States before she got married to Abba and so she was the civilized one amongst the three of them. She was the one that welcomed Ma with open arms when she came. And she was the one that took care of me when Ma left me behind. I am so much indebted to her.

"We Skyped with Dahlia a few weeks ago but she never mentioned you were coming" she said as she sits me down on the royal couch in her living room.

"The trip was so sudden,uncalled for. It happened at the last minute." I replied honestly.

"Well I'm glad you're back. We missed you" she hugged me again.

"I missed you too" I smiled as tears marred my eyes. I've missed her warm hugs and affectionate smile. Really.

I spent a little more time there. We had to catch up. She called Ya AbdulS and AbdulMu'umin on the phone and we talked. They will be coming home for the Eid-el Adha. They were so happy I was back. Muhaimin and Azeez were still in school so I couldn't reach them since electronic gadgets were prohibited.  AJ was the one home but he left to play polo with some kids around the palace grounds and will be back before Maghreb. I couldn't wait to see my little Air Marshal.

It was after Asr I decided to go and greet Mamee,the last wife and the youngest. She came after Ma. She was always Hajiya's favorite. She is her niece. The woman she wanted Abba to marry ever since he was 18. After almost 25 years of pestering and pushing,he finally agreed to marry her. I was eleven then. It was a grand celebration. Hajiya Babba spent her all in that wedding. She had to shove it in everyone's faces that this was the marriage she was happy about and that Mamee is the only daughter in-law she appreciates.

Mamee is the introvert. She is quite and reserved and well behaved. She is the mother to AbdulMusawwir and the twins,Fadeel and Fawwad. AbdulMusawwir is AJ's age mate, just a few months apart and they go to the same school. Fadeel and Fawwad are the 'last borns' and are still in elementary school.

I left for France when the twins were just three years and now when I saw them playing PES on their Xbox and fighting each other,I couldn't believe it was really them. They were so tall and well,a bit chubby. Way taller than their age. I bet they didn't even recognize me. They smiled ever so politely when their mum tried to remind them of their long lost Adda Miriam. But all in vain.

So basically am the only girl in the midst of twelve boys. Ain't I the luckiest of all,having twelve Knights in shining armor protecting me from all angles? Heck yeah!!!

After my long tour round the house,I finally decided to come back to my 'dungeon' immediately after Maghreb. I headed straight to my room where I found my dinner already waiting for me. I gently removed the stainless steel lid that covered the plate and I was met with a whitish mound and some greenish sort of soup.

Tuwo and Miyan Kuka? Ya salaam.