Description
There are moments in life when it becomes filled with captivating and delightful sights, like the blue sky with beautiful white clouds drifting lazily like snow. And on occasion, we are blessed with the presence of colorful rainbows. Just as the sunlight shining through the water droplets creates a mesmerizing effect on the clouds, life itself is adorned with gifted individuals who entertain us with their profound wisdom, including the esteemed old man, SIDI MAI JAKA.

During such blissful and heartening times, I find myself sitting alone at the door of my house, as I usually do, holding my pen and books in hand. We humans living on this earth are grateful for every moment, knowing that the rain may fall at any time.

As I sit there, I can’t help but ponder about my ability to write. My mind seems devoid of any captivating stories, making me smile at the irony that even my brain doesn’t hold any good news. They say an old man’s memory is like a saddlebag, carrying an array of experiences.

Three years ago, a wise old man named Abani, with a bag full of intriguing stories, captivated my attention. Now, as I gaze at the clouds, it feels like my only hope lies in that old man’s bag of stories. I rush inside the house, feeling the urge to repent and be ready for the tales that may come my way.

Not too long after, I find myself standing at Sidi’s house, my heart filled with anxiety. My schoolmates complain that I haven’t written anything for them in two days, as if my creative skills have run dry. The thought troubles me deeply, as education is dear to me. Little did I know that fate would lead me to an old man carrying a bag of stories.

To my surprise, the old man’s stories turn out to be fascinating, even the tale of BARAKUKA, which I didn’t expect to be interesting. Excited and eager, I decide to visit him again today to hear another story, but the choice is in God’s hands.

At nine o’clock on this blessed Sunday morning, I approach Sidi’s house, spotting him from afar with his bag. A strong wind blows, creating a warm atmosphere. As I finish talking to him, I notice his smile disappearing when he sees the books in my hand.

“NAS. May God separate us from bad feelings and ill intentions!” I say in surprise. Sidi, looking at the books, expresses his frustration, mentioning that I only came with my writing materials and no repentance.

I burst into laughter, assuring him that I am indeed ready for the storytelling, as my brother is already at home with repentance. This good news delights him, but he jokingly remarks that he has no repentance at all.

Excited to hear the story, I quickly prepare a chair, and we sit down together. SIDI with the bag gives me a dry smile, still wearing his old shirt, resembling a potato skin.

He tells me that the story he wants to share contains three long chapters, and he will combine them for me. With time ticking, we aim to finish before the afternoon prayer.

I eagerly anticipate the story and the wisdom that SIDI with the bag will share with me on this auspicious day.

MURMUSHIN ALKAWARI

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