{"id":1024,"date":"2020-11-29T19:25:38","date_gmt":"2020-11-29T18:25:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/imoconnectwithwash.com\/?p=1024"},"modified":"2020-11-29T19:25:38","modified_gmt":"2020-11-29T18:25:38","slug":"the-underground-lake","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/gidanmu.com\/imoconnectwithwash\/the-underground-lake\/","title":{"rendered":"The Underground Lake"},"content":{"rendered":"

Chapter 1<\/strong><\/h3>\n

Every morning in Angwa Malami, Niger State, Aisha Abubakar would get on her way to the Guinea corn field by the crack of dawn.<\/p>\n

\u201cHere we go again,\u201d she recited in her head, as she listlessly made her way through the trails. \u201cWhy did Father have to farm Guinea corn?\u201d she questioned the universe, as she\u2019s done for the last several months.<\/p>\n

Aisha quietly made her way to the flimsy wooden shed by their house to retrieve one of the plastic water containers. For years, even long before Aisha was born, the inhabitants of the village could fetch water from the three village wells. Since she was about eight or nine, Aisha was taught to fetch water from the wells and bring it to the communal Guinea corn field in the village center. But those wells have run dry. Believe it or not, it had not rained in the village for the last ten months.<\/p>\n

\u201cHello!\u201d Hafsat Ismaila called after Aisha, breaking the latter out of her daze. \u201cAre you on your way to the Lake? Have you seen Ummi yet?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n

Hafsat and Aisha had been the best of friends practically since they were born. The Abubakar\u2019s and Ismaila\u2019s had been neighbors for years, in this small village of Angwa Malami. They were close like family \u2013 which is not hard, as the village had a very small population even back in the day. Angwa Malami used to have about 50 families, but sadly, far fewer were left now. There were less than 30 families left after a mass emigration of families because of the mysterious drought that had befallen their village three years ago. If it weren\u2019t for underground lake that was kilometres away from Angwa Malami, the village might have long been completely deserted.<\/p>\n

Aisha\u2019s and Hafsat\u2019s grandparents and all the elders of their generation always talked of a subterranean cave that was known to hold water. When the village wells ran dry, it was their friend Ummi Hamisu\u2019s older brothers who set about in search of this life-saving lake\u2026 and found it in a hidden cave eight kilometers from the outskirts of the village. The entrance to the secluded cave lay in a deep fissure on the earth\u2019s surface. The Hamisu brothers had to carefully make their way through steep, narrow, and rocky pathways just to make it to the lake deep inside the cave.<\/p>\n

With the guidance of the Hamisu brothers, the struggling families of Angwa Malami finally had a source for much-needed water. The lake lay more than 50 meters below the ground, deep into the cave. Nevertheless, the lake was their only hope and chance for survival during droughts.<\/p>\n

The first time they found the subterranean lake, the Hamisu brothers had only their hands and feet to help them navigate through dangerous rocky fissure. Soon, the men of Angwa Malami came together and built makeshift wooden ladders for the most difficult passages, just to get to the heart of the cave.<\/p>\n

Hafsat was always cheerful and bright, never complaining despite having to drag a 13-liter water container every single day. Same as yesterday (and the day before that, and the day before that\u2026), Hafsat was carrying her water canister early in the morning as the two of them met at the road bend. The only difference between the two girls was that Aisha was her usual somber self while Hafsat had on her ready smile.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are definitely NOT a morning person, Aisha. But I still love you, don\u2019t worry!\u201d Hafsat would always tease Aisha. \u201cCome on, let\u2019s get Ummi and all go to the lake together!\u201d<\/p>\n

Aisha had always envied her best friend Hafsat\u2019s happy disposition, yet could not\u00a0 seem to look past the hardships of rural life.<\/p>\n

Chapter 2<\/strong><\/h3>\n

\u201cUmmi! Aisha! Let\u2019s go! Let\u2019s get a head start on our day so we can still hang out by the wells once we\u2019re done in the Guinea corn fields,\u201d Hafsat excitedly called out.<\/p>\n

The two girls were right outside Ummi\u2019s house. The three friends were inseparable. With the few people left in Angwa Malami, only Aisha, Hafsat, and Ummi were of this delicate age on the verge of teen-hood. They were still children, but not for long. It was, in fact, Ummi\u2019s 13th<\/sup> birthday.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m here, I\u2019m here,\u201d Ummi answered dryly as she dragged her feet out of their house, her own water canister in hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cHappy birthday, Ummi! Wow, that\u2019s quite a canister you have there! Is that new?\u201d Aisha asked.<\/p>\n

Children and young adults were all given 10 to 20-liter water canisters to fetch water from the lake every day. Fetching water has been the way of life for all able-bodied citizens of Angwa Malami. But today, Ummi seemed to have gotten a new water container to carry water with.<\/p>\n

\u201cI turn 13 today. mother said I am almost a woman. I may not be strong enough to carry a 20-liter canister yet, but I have to start training for when the day comes. I believe this is 15 liters now,\u201d Ummi shared. \u201cAlso, beginning today, I have to make two trips to the lake. Mother needs water for the home, as well,\u201d Ummi told her two friends. \u201cA happy birthday to me, indeed.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ever since the rains stopped falling 10 months ago and the wells dried up shortly after, life had been doubly (even triply!) hard. Harvests fail, sometimes. There was barely any water to drink, much less to do any irrigation.<\/p>\n

Ummi\u2019s mother was just like any mother in the village: she needed to maximise the use whatever little water there was as much as she could. She would wash herself with leftover water used for cooking, after most of the leftover water had been given to cattle or sheep to drink. To save water is to save a life. Or lives.<\/p>\n

Chapter 3<\/strong><\/h3>\n

The three youngsters walked the eight kilometer distance to the hidden cave. They had done this almost a hundred times by now, so they were used to it.<\/p>\n

\u201cI bet you I can find my way to the lake with my eyes closed!\u201d Ummi joked.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo can I! Would you like to race?\u201d Hafsat asked Ummi, her eyes twinkling with excitement.<\/p>\n

\u201cStop it, you two!\u201d an exasperated Aisha interrupted. \u201cWhat you\u2019re thinking of doing is crazy and unladylike! Besides being dangerous, especially once you reach the mouth of the hidden cave, it\u2019s impossible to make your way down the wooden ladders and through the rocks in a hurried race. I mean, it\u2019s dangerous enough when you\u2019re being carefully slow\u2026\u201d Aisha finished off with a roll of her eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cAww\u2026 lighten up, Aisha,\u201d Ummi chided her with a smile. \u201cWe\u2019re just trying to make our daily trips a little more bearable.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hafsat chimed in, \u201cUmmi\u2019s right, Aisha. If we don\u2019t do what we can to make these long road trips to the lake fun, we would just hate it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s the thing, Ummi, Hafsat. Maybe we should hate it. Maybe we should not learn to love this kind of life. Who would love a life where we need to carry more than 10 liters of water on our heads every day? And we are children! Our fathers carry double this weight, just to toil in the Guinea corn field after. Our mothers need to filter and boil the water just to make it safe for us to drink. None of us take a proper bath, for fear of using even a drop more than is necessary!<\/p>\n

\u201cI heard Mother and Father talking last night. Do you know that in Minna, every house has a toilet? No one needs to go and do their private business in an open field. A toilet for each house! Do you know of any house here that has that?<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd they say water in Minna comes to every house through things called pipes and faucets. Have you ever seen one of those things before? No one has to travel eight kilometers far and down dark, rocky paths, and back again just to be able to cleanse themselves a little.<\/p>\n

\u201cImagine your mother, Ummi. Not having to boil water anymore. And your mother, Hafsat, being able to cook more delicious food because she has plenty of clean water in her kitchen.<\/p>\n

\u201cI bet the children in Minna all go to school and learn to read and write and learn about things we\u2019ve never even heard of here. They can go to school because, unlike us, they do not need to use their time walking miles and miles just to carry heavy water on their heads.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I bet it rains plenty over there!<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you know how far we are from Minna? Just about 36 kilometers! We all travel 16 kilometers in total making our way to and back from the lake every day. That means we can make it to the capital in one day!\u201d<\/p>\n

Aisha\u2019s spirited discourse silenced both Hafsat and Ummi. Aisha felt a slight pinch of guilt for bringing down her good friends\u2019 high spirits. But no\u2026 someone had to say it.<\/p>\n

Chapter 4<\/strong><\/h3>\n

\u201cSlowly, Ummi! We are in no hurry,\u201d Hafsat reminded her tomboy friend who customarily would go down into the cave\u2019s mouth ahead of all the girls. The narrow rocky path leading down the cave and toward the lake was arduous and covered in pitch black darkness. If one didn\u2019t carry a torch, they would be unable to see their own hand if they put it in front of them. It was Ummi\u2019s duty to hold the torch, go ahead, and be the girls\u2019 guide through the passageways with makeshift wooden ladders. The lake lay some 50 feet below the ground, which was why climbing down the steep and small passages took several minutes.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t worry about me, Hafsat! Just hold on tight. I can\u2019t have either of you slipping and falling down on me now, can I?\u201d Ummi retorted with a giggle.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve climbed up and down these wooden ladders maybe close to a hundred times by now. We should know these steps like the back of our own hands,\u201d Aisha began. \u201cI think the secret is never to get too comfortable or so confident that you go through it hurriedly.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I agree. That\u2019s why every time we pass through here, I pretend that it\u2019s my first time to do so,\u201d Hafsat agreed. \u201cDo you think there will ever be a last time for us to come here? I mean, do any of you think the time will come when none of us has to come here just to fetch water anymore?\u201d Hafsat thought out loud.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. When rains come. Or when someone figures out how to bring water to Angwa Malami,\u201d Aisha answered with a scoff. There was a touch of scorn in Aisha\u2019s voice as she realized the irony of Angwa Malami\u2019s strange situation.<\/p>\n

The three friends often made their way down the cave and to the lake with thoughtful conversations. \u201cI wonder why it stopped raining over here. Do any of you know why?\u201d Ummi asked. She sincerely wanted to know.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy grandmother would always say that drought is a sign that a person or a place is cursed,\u201d Aisha recounted. \u201cLike a spell has been cast until the wretched is able to do something to reverse the curse.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you think that\u2019s true?\u201d Hafsat inquired. \u201cWhy would anyone curse Angwa Malami or anybody who lived here?\u201d<\/em> she thought quietly to herself.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d Aisha promptly answered back. \u201cI believe there is a more logical explanation to this drought rather than a vengeful spell of some sort. We just don\u2019t quite understand everything that is happening because we don\u2019t have adequate education in these parts. I like to think that we just need help. Either help comes from the big cities, or we help ourselves,\u201d Aisha ended with conviction.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, coming here every day and getting water so our fathers can nourish the plants in the fields and our families can have something to drink is helping ourselves, don\u2019t you think?\u201d Ummi asked Aisha.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, but this is not enough. I feel like there is a lot to be learned so we can all finally improve this kind of life that we have in Angwa Malami. This \u2013 our way of life \u2013 is not the only way, you know,\u201d Aisha explained.<\/p>\n

The three friends finally reached the lake and begin ladling precious water into their respective canisters.<\/p>\n

\u201cI wish I was bigger and stronger so I could easily carry 20 \u2013 no, 30 \u2013 liters of water at once. That way I wouldn\u2019t need to come here more than twice in one day,\u201d Ummi wished, her voice laced with a tinge of sadness.<\/p>\n

\u201cI wish water was less heavy!\u201d Hafsat joked.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, if we\u2019re wishing for things, shouldn\u2019t we wish for rains? Or for education for the people of Angwa Malami?\u201d Aisha argued. Just as quickly as the words came out of her mouth, she regretted it. \u201cI am such a killjoy<\/em>,\u201d Aisha admonished herself.<\/p>\n

Well, someone\u2019s got to say it.<\/p>\n

Chapter 5<\/strong><\/h3>\n

If making one\u2019s way down the hidden cave was long, arduous, and frightening, imagine going up the same way carrying more than a 10-liter water container on one\u2019s head and supporting it with one hand. And, either way, you pray that no one else is making their way up or down against your direction. Else, one of you will need to go back and give way. These three children knew that, being young, they would always have to be the ones to give way to elders.<\/p>\n

It took more than an hour to walk the eight kilometers going to the lake and even longer to walk back, not counting the time it took to navigate the steep and stony paths going down the narrow cave, ladling water into containers, and carrying them back up to level land.<\/p>\n

This was why Aisha, Hafsat, Ummi, and everyone else who made this water-fetching trip knew to set aside at least five hours of every day just for the purpose of fetching water.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou two go on ahead to the Guinea corn fields. I will take my first container home to Mother and then make my way back to the lake so I can fetch water for the fields. I can meet you by the wells later,\u201d Ummi told her friends.<\/p>\n

Ummi split with the girls on the road bend and made her way home where her mother, two older brothers, and baby sister would be waiting for him.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are coming back just now? You walk way too slow, Ummi. Your brothers would have made two trips to and back from the lake in the time you take to make just one trip!\u201d their mother scolded Ummi. \u201cToday is not the day to be sluggish!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cForgive me, Mother. It is my first time to carry a 15-liter canister. I might need some time to get used to the weight,\u201d Ummi meekly explained.<\/p>\n

In truth, Ummi was feeling a little pained inside. \u201cIt\u2019s my birthday, MY BIRTHDAY!\u201d<\/em> she told herself sadly. \u201cAnd still, all I am is a pair of hands that should do heavy lifting. I am so much more than just a set of hands!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Ummi promptly stopped herself from going further down this road of self-pity. Today was the first time in a long, long while that Ummi had allowed herself down this emotional path, knowing that to do so was somewhat of a guilty pleasure. The path of pitying oneself is a slippery slope. \u201cI might never get back.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

As Ummi poured the lake water into their repository, she was secretly admonishing herself. \u201cThere are no birthdays in this land that rain has forgotten. We need water, not tears of sorrow \u2013 we cannot drink THAT. <\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI wonder \u2013 are there birthdays in Minna? Maybe the kids there have plenty of friends who all bring gifts when it\u2019s someone\u2019s birthday. In school! They would also celebrate in school, as well as the home. What those children must know! I probably know less than half of what they have all learned in school. <\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cPerhaps the children in Minna do not need to get water from so far away. They all know where to get water and know how to make it safe for drinking and bathing. They must know what it\u2019s like to bathe more than once a day.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Today, Ummi\u2019s thoughts did not go far down the path of self-pity, yet she allowed them toward a different direction. For the first time, Ummi allowed herself to think like Aisha would. And doing so seemed to send an unfamiliar energy \u2013 something like a lightning current \u2013 through her veins. Wow.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you done yet? That water is not going to be enough for my cooking!\u201d Ummi\u2019s mother called out.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Mother, I am done. I am leaving for the lake again right now,\u201d Ummi answered sadly, weakly\u2026 yet, with a strange determination coursing through her body. \u201cI need to make the trip. I need it.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

And in just moments, Ummi had left.<\/p>\n

Chapter 6<\/strong><\/h3>\n

\u201cShouldn\u2019t Ummi be here by now?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hafsat and Aisha had finished their water-fetching duties and gone to the wells to see who else was there. This was where the three friends would always hang out as their days wound down. Here, they talked about their families and their secrets, and these wells were where they shaped their dreams. Dry as they may be, these wells symbolized hope that someday they would be filled again.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat could be taking Ummi so long?\u201d wondered Hafsat. \u201cI know she needs to make that second trip to the lake, but that was hours ago. She should have made her way back by now.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dusk had started to settle over Angwa Malami. Ummi was taking unusually long in making her way back from the lake and finding her two friends by the wells as they customarily did. Aisha and Hafsat had been here for hours, both excited to give Ummi their birthday present to her \u2013 a wicker basket that Ummi could put on her back like a knapsack to carry things. Aisha and Hafsat had weaved this handmade basket together as a gift to their friend. But more time passed, and still Ummi had not returned.<\/p>\n

Finally, Aisha spoke. \u201cHafsat. I can\u2019t explain it. But I have a strange feeling. I don\u2019t think Ummi is coming back. Today. Or for a long time. I think Ummi traveled the extra 20 kilometers to Minna.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

_______<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Chapter 1 Every morning in Angwa Malami, Niger State, Aisha Abubakar would get on her way to the Guinea corn field by the crack of dawn. \u201cHere we go again,\u201d she recited in her head, as she listlessly made her way through the trails. \u201cWhy did Father have to farm Guinea corn?\u201d she questioned the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":1025,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[105],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1024","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-books"],"blocksy_meta":{"styles_descriptor":{"styles":{"desktop":"","tablet":"","mobile":""},"google_fonts":[],"version":6}},"acf":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/gidanmu.com\/imoconnectwithwash\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/5\/2020\/11\/The-Underground-Lake.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/gidanmu.com\/imoconnectwithwash\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1024","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/gidanmu.com\/imoconnectwithwash\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/gidanmu.com\/imoconnectwithwash\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gidanmu.com\/imoconnectwithwash\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gidanmu.com\/imoconnectwithwash\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1024"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/gidanmu.com\/imoconnectwithwash\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1024\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gidanmu.com\/imoconnectwithwash\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1025"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/gidanmu.com\/imoconnectwithwash\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1024"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gidanmu.com\/imoconnectwithwash\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1024"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gidanmu.com\/imoconnectwithwash\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1024"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}