International Love
Deema wasn't much of a traveler. Planes freaked her out (mostly because her mother died on one), and she had a deep fear of strange, foreign people. They gave her a strange vibe, not only from their inability to speak English, but also their customs that she wasn't used to. Her father was convinced that it was from the lack of experience that sparked his daughter's hesitation.
He knew she'd have to overcome her fear due to his job. Working for the U.S embassy wasn't so easy for a person, or even a child with constant hesitation of traveling. They took a trip to a new country every month, sometimes every three weeks. Deema felt like she has 20 different homes compared to the one she wanted in North America.
This time around, they were taking trip to Nigeria, Africa for some sort of celebration the young blonde couldn't remember. On the plane ride, she was more gittery and nervous than usual.
"Do we have to go," she whined, putting her head in her hands, "I don't want to socialize with any of those people."
"Now Deema," her father, Charlie started, "The citizens of Nigeria are thanking us for helping them with their political and environmental issues. The least we could do is show our appreciation. You have no clue how hard they work to keep their society high in gratitude."
The 14 year-old rolled her eyes, "~And you have no clue how much I want to go back home."
"Believe me, I do," the father gave a heavy sigh, "just try to have fun, alright? I heard the there's going to be a parade! You like parade's don't you? And there'll be kids there! I'm good friends with the President, and his son his going to be there.."
"~I'm not interested in meeting anyone," the blonde snapped, focusing her gaze out of the window, "especially not some dude I don't even know."
"Okay. I just want to make you happy sweetheart.."
Deema glanced at the disappointed look on her father's face. She grimaced while feeling a regretful throb in her heart, "I know, dad, I'm sorry. I'm fine, you don't have to worry about me."
That was probably one of the biggest lies she ever told. The small blonde was actually extremely lonely. She would try to make friends in other countries, but most of them thought of her as a stereotypical American tourist and wasted no time with her. Another reason why that didn't work was because she was constantly moving. What's the point of meeting a good friend when you have to move about three weeks later? Then they never write back or completely forget about her. It was rather depressing, but sadly true.
If she didn't miss her mother so much, this wouldn't be much of a problem. Deema just needed someone to really talk to.
They landed in Nigeria a few hours later. The minute the father and daughter stepped out if the terminal, all she could see were foreign folk. Some if them from notable countries like Asia or Europe, but others were obviously the Nigerians traveling or returning from spectacular trips.
Deema sated close to her father's side like a frightened child. All she could see were the dark people, most with greeting smiles, give her nice glances. They were wearing fabulous clothes with mesmerizing patterns and colors. The women wore beautifully crafted head dresses while the men were hats that matched perfectly with the colors of their robes.
"Deema?"
Adam had to nudge his daughter so she could stop staring at one women's dress.
"Huh," the girl looked to her tall father, then to a tall, African American man with a thin face and fabulous robes.
"This is Ottwa, he'll be escorting us to the capital," the tale, pale man gestured to the kind Nigerian, who tipped his hat and bowed as a greeting.
Ottwa then began speaking a rare African language, "Hello miss, it's very nice to meet you. I hope you and your father enjoy your stay."
Deema kept her distance, even though the man seemed very respectful.
The short ride through the city was rather dazzling. There were giant memorials buildings and stores just about everywhere. People were walking down the streets, either talking, buying things, or playing loud music on drums. This place was so new, yet so interesting to Deema. She couldn't help but gaze out of the window relentlessly to pleasure her eyes to the beauty before them.
As they got closer to the capital, the streets started to become more restless. People were dressed in excotic outfits with their faces painted. Some people walked on stilts, while others danced or even played music with hand held instruments. There was so much commotion, it was deafening. Others who weren't in the parade were standing on sidewalks, sporting flags and chanting.
The blonde female couldn't help but jump when the car came to a complete stop. Her and her father exited the vehicle before greeting a tall, dark man wearing very fabulous robes. Next to him, was a handsome, 14 year old boy. His skin was the perfect shade of cocoa brown while his eyes were bright, even with their brown color. His small lips were curved into a smile that showed his dazzling white teeth.
Deema felt her heart race at the mere sight of this boy. He was so attractive the girl couldn't help but stare. Her stomach did somersaults as her and her father came closer to him. By then, she was able to see what he was wearing in detail. A neutral blue shirt decorated his chest while a blue and purple stripped pair of pants covered his legs. Over it all he wore a long, dark purple jacket and a blue hat. He wore no shoes, but even his feet were perfect.
He looked more like a prince compared to a president's son. He held a smile as the blonde female approached him and his father.
"Ah, Charles! So nice to see you," the president stated, he then looked at the blonde teen, "~and this must be your daughter, Deema! It's nice to meet you!"
The older man shook the small girl's hand a gestured his son forward, "This is my son, Gobias."
The 14 year old boy shook hands with Charlie politely. Though when he turned he bowed, taking the girl's pale hand in his own and giving it a light kiss on the back of her palm.
"It's very nice to meet you, Adama," the young male said.
The female could feel her cheeks flare as she gazed back at the charming prince. She was caught in some sort of trance, until something some how snapped her out of it. He could speak perfect English.
"It's Deema, "the small girl attempted to stammer and correct.
The young African stood, still holding Deema's shaky hand in his. He gave another grin, then a laugh, "Not to me, Adama means beautiful."
The blonde giggled a bit, then blushed even more. She only knew this boy for a good minute and felt like she was in love. A magical feeling twisted her heart. She became lightheaded at the beautiful feelings she began to feel towards the boy.
The girl could hear marching from a distance.
"The parade's starting," Gobias exclaimed with excitement, he grabbed Deema's hand again, "can I sit next to you?"
"He's such a gentlemen," the blonde thought, "He's asking if he can sit with me. That's so nice."
The girl sat in a golden seat next to the royal male and decided to enjoy the parade. It was extremely exotic and patriotic. People were cheering and chanting unknown anthems while waving Nigerian flags. Performers danced across the streets. They wore elaborate colored costumes and had paint decorating their faces. The dances were so symbolic and beautiful, while the stilt walkers and singer made the entire thing even more glamorous. Deema was blown away. When the excitement started to die down, the blonde turned to her new dark haired friend.
"This city, everything is so beautiful," the blue eyed girl stated in awe, feeling internally ashamed for being so judgmental before, "Everything is so elaborate, it's perfect."
"Thank you, Deema, but the continent is anything else but perfect," the princely male sighed.
"Why?"
"This is possibly the richest city in Africa, but we still have just as many problems as you do in the states, "the young male explained, giving the girl full eye contact, "Recently, some school girl's were kidnapped by one of the finest universities in the country. We have yet to find them, but we are still looking."
The blonde gasped, "that's terrible! Who would do that?"
"The prince shrugged, "Who knows. The type of monster that would want to hurt an innocent girl, I'll never know. And with the war going on in the south, and so many people starving in Sudan, I don't know how we would've coped."
Deema remembered that her father had told her about the horrible genocide going on between two tribes in the south. It was rather violent, and many men, women, even children have been killed because of it. And if that wasn't sad enough, the African Serengeti, where most people in the south live, is already harsh. They lack food, homes, and the proper necessities to live such as water and medicine. There are horrible animals that spread diseases, and hunger is the main cause of death if not from the polluted water and illness. So many people die and Deema felt like she was one of the many people who didn't care. It was so horrible, she felt a tear come to her eye.
"I-I'm so sorry, Gobias. I had no idea~"
"No need for tears, Adama," the African American male said softly while wiping away the long streaks of water coming from Deema's blue eyes, "You and your father have done more than enough to help. Without the embassy, we'd be completely lost. This day, this celebration, is dedicated to you and all who care."
The blonde could feel herself blush again as the prince gave her a single peck on both cheeks. She felt slight guilt, even though she honestly helped a lot at the embassy, but that was easily washed away by Gobias' little speech. She couldn't help but smile at the grinning prince. The two tightly held hands as they continued to watch the glorious parade.
Happy Doby Month Everyone! Amber, out!