I knocked on the metal gate. It was a rather large bungalow surrounded by brick walls with barbed wire icing. My heart was pumping. All I felt was the fear of being rejected or something. Fortunately, her older brother, Suleman, answered the door. He was guy with cool temper and rather muscular build, so he kept his stance. He looked at me judgingly for a moment, smiled, and gave me a handshake.

“Ei, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to visit your sister…” I trailed off, knowing how unusual that was for me.

He looked at me like he was trying to send me some message between the lines of “Really?” and “Don’t mess with me, I’m watching you”. After some brief moments he replied:

“Aiite, come in.”

The area inside was a bit stereotypical. Concrete floor in the front as a driveway (thankfully it was empty) A couple of trees, some bushes spread around the corners and some clothes drying at the back. He led me into the house, pointed me to the end of the hallway past the living room, smiled again, and left.

There I was, in her bedroom. It was a pretty generic one, for the average rural African, that is. Dark wooden furniture stood around all corners, a somewhat tattered linen mat, covering the concrete floor – cool to the bare feet, a ceiling fan, quietly hissing the air around, and metal barred windows with nets, to fend off mosquitoes and hooligans.

She sat there on a double bed, in a blue traditional dress, pretty loose, to allow free movement. She was about 5’5″, dark skinned, brown eyes, her hair done into long dreadlocks. Her rather-concealing dress allowed me to check her out for a slight moment.