FreeFreeDescription
Part 1
It was a very large compound adorned with striking, beautiful plants and trees; one glance at the courtyard told you that severe wealth resided there. The massive compound contained three distinct apartment structures, all painted in the same uniform color, with a long, spacious distance separating each building from the next.
The first structure encountered immediately upon entering the modern gate of the large house was exceptionally massive, as it was significantly larger than the other two. It was a grand duplex featuring an expansive parking space to the side that could easily contain an entire fleet of vehicles.
Crouched by the outdoor water tap at the front of this first building was a fair-skinned young girl who could not have been more than eighteen years old. Even though she was bending down, one could easily tell she was quite tall. Water from the tap was rushing into a bucket she had placed under it to fill, while she gently rubbed a pair of her socks as if she felt pity for them. Three pairs of socks, a few caps, and an inner vest were the only garments she was washing there, yet she had been at it for nearly an hour.
The sound of the front entrance door clicking open made her freeze instantly in her crouched position. Her eyes widened and her heart skipped a beat with dread because, to the best of her knowledge, there was supposed to be no one home in this part of the house; she had been alone washing since morning. The occupants of this wing had all left for a wedding ceremony—she had personally watched them drive out. If they had been around, she knew that even if she were losing her mind, she would never have dared to come over to their section to do her laundry.
Slowly, she turned around to see who had emerged. It was a very tall young man, who could not have been older than thirty-three, standing right at the entrance of the house clad in a cream-colored jallabiya. Avoiding eye contact, she looked away and quietly continued rinsing her clothes.
He crossed his arms calmly and called out, "Hey you."
On the verge of tears, she turned to look at him.
He asked, "What brought you here to do your laundry?"
Widening her large eyes, she replied, "Our tap broke down yesterday, and..."
He cut her off sharply. "Get up and leave this place."
"But I am almost done," she pleaded.
Raising his voice with a strict, commanding edge, he said, "Gather your things and leave right now before I come over to where you are!"
She looked away, pouting deeply. Rising to her feet, she poured out the water completely, gathered the bucket and the few items she had washed inside it, and hurried away so fast she looked like she was about to take flight, without casting another glance in his direction. Once she had gained a safe distance, she twisted her mouth in annoyance and muttered under her breath, "May Allah judge you."
She came to a halt right in front of the second section, which was a large, beautifully designed bungalow. This wing also possessed its own private parking lot capable of accommodating three cars. She stared at the rest of her unwashed laundry, feeling like she was about to burst into tears. What was she supposed to do with them now? If Ammi saw that she hadn't finished the laundry, she would definitely scold her and ask what she had been doing all this time.
She glanced down the path leading to the final section of the compound. She bit her lip, knowing that the owner of that apartment might not even allow her to touch her water tap. She stood there indecisively for a while before finally resolving to head toward that last wing.
This final section was also a bungalow, though it was smaller than theirs and built with a completely different architectural design. She gently set her buckets down right beside the tap located directly opposite the living room entrance, casting nervous, stolen glances at the door as she did so. Cleverly, she opened the tap just a fraction so the rushing water wouldn't make any noise. She tilted the bucket at an angle to deaden the sound of the splashing water and quickly resumed rinsing her clothes.
Her heart hammered violently against her ribs when she suddenly heard approaching footsteps, assuming it was the female owner of the apartment. Instead, it was the same young man from earlier walking toward her. Refusing to lock eyes with him, she stubbornly focused on her laundry. He did not even glance in her direction, but before he could step into the living room, the voice of an old woman echoed from inside:
"Why does it feel like someone is tampering with my water tap out there?"
Terrified, the girl quickly turned off the tap, preparing to grab her things and bolt, but the old woman stepped outside just in time. The old woman gaped at her in disbelief before barking, "Who is this again? What are you doing near my tap?"
The girl pouted and said, "Well, Inna, our tap broke down..."
Inna cut her off instantly. "If your tap broke down, am I the one who ruined it for you?"
The young girl protested, "But didn't you ask me earlier to fetch water and bring it to your bathroom? That is exactly what I came to do for you."
Inna fixed her with a piercing look and scoffed, "You? The 'you' that I know would willingly fetch water for my bathroom? You hypocrite! My name isn't Aisha for me to fall for that. By Allah, you better be careful around me in this house. My water isn't for free, so don't you ever dare come near my tap again. You ruined yours and now you want to ruin mine out of sheer malice, right? I suppose your mother will be the one to fetch water for me when my overhead tank runs dry! Just like that, you want to leave me scraping the bottom of my tap, contracting worms and diseases, while leaving my own children to suffer? You are Bukar's daughter, and you are inherently malicious, by Allah! Your capacity for wastefulness is beyond limits. What a nuisance!"
The young girl simply stared at her, looking as though she was about to cry.
Inna narrowed her eyes and demanded, "Hurry up, lift my water, go inside, and pour it into my bathroom! In this house, whoever takes what is rightfully mine without my permission, I truly do not forgive them, since that is how things are. Everyone had a tap installed for them, but out of malice, you carry your filthy, cursed buckets over here to drain my water, you wicked children!"
The girl stood her ground this time, hardening her expression and simply staring back at her.
Furious, Inna threatened, "Are you not going to go and pour it into the bathroom, or should I have someone call Bukar to return from wherever he is right now?"
Fuming with silent rage, the girl grabbed the water bucket and marched inside. Inna walked into the living room, fetched a small padlock, securely locked the tap outside, and walked back into the house, muttering, "It is better I lock it up so I don't run out of water myself, rather than having people constantly draining it to spite me."
Upon entering the living room, Inna glanced at the young man who was sitting on a sofa, deeply engrossed in his phone. Sullenly, she grabbed a piece of cleaning cloth, walked over to the television stand, and began dusting while grumbling aloud:
"So you decided to come back to finish up the rest of the insolence you forgot to deliver yesterday? As if everything you did yesterday wasn't enough. Well, as for me, clear out and leave my living room. I have no business with you. I am not about to waste my breath on a useless, grown man today; I have my own problems to worry about. Go and direct your attitude toward your mother."
He did not utter a single word in response, continuing to press his phone.
After a few moments, he stood up and said smoothly, "Abba was the one who asked me to come over and apologize to you." With that, his face hardened as he turned toward the door.
Inna raised her voice sharply, "Imaan! Since this man walked in here, did you hear him say a single word of apology to me? Well, I certainly have not accepted any apology from you, by Allah! And if you are not careful, I am fully capable of marching straight down to the office to confront Ahmadu right now!"
Imaan was busy closing a large plastic container she had pulled out from under the bed, trying frantically to tie up a plastic bag filled with alkaki (fried wheat cakes) she had pilfered. Hearing Inna call her name again, she quickly responded, "I am coming right now!"
She quietly opened the bedroom window, tossed the bag of snacks outside, rushed into the bathroom to wash her hands, and emerged into the living room with a sullen face. "Why are you calling me?" she asked.
Inna pointed a finger at the young man. "Since you walked in, did you hear the voice of this servant of Allah over there?"
Imaan rolled her eyes. "Who? Him?"
Inna snapped, "Mujaheed!"
Imaan retorted, "How should I know? I was inside the room." With that, she brushed past him and walked out of the parlor.
She quickly gathered the remainder of her laundry, ran around to the back of the house to retrieve her hidden bag of alkaki, and hurried back to their own apartment structure. She cautiously cracked the front door open to peek inside. Seeing that her mother, Ammi, was nowhere in the living room, she dashed straight into her bedroom, locked the door, and dumped the buckets safely in her bathroom.
Later that evening, Ammi entered the bedroom and found her fast asleep on the bed.
"Imaan," Ammi called out.
She slowly blinked her eyes open.
Ammi scolded, "Get up from this sleep, that's enough. It is already evening. Did you retrieve your socks that you washed?"
Rubbing her eyes sleepily, Imaan replied, "I will go get them."
Ammi added, "Your hijabs that I washed are out on Anty’s clothesline; go and pack them because they are dry. Just because the neighbors aren't around today doesn't mean you should skip school, right?"
Imaan remained silent. As soon as Ammi turned around and left the room, Imaan’s eyes widened. She jumped out of bed, rushed into her bathroom, wrung out the socks, caps, and inner wears she hadn't finished washing, threw them into the dryer section of the washing machine, and turned it on before heading outside.
As she was gathering her hijabs from the clothesline, she saw the security guard open the main gate. A magnificent, luxury car drove smoothly into the compound, heading straight for the parking space belonging to the grand duplex. A second car immediately followed it into the driveway.
The young man from earlier that morning, Mujaheed, stepped out of the driver's seat of the first car, now dressed in casual Western clothing. A young girl around Imaan’s age stepped out of the front passenger seat. Then, an older woman who appeared to be around fifty-four years old stepped out of the back seat alongside a twenty-year-old girl. One look at them revealed they were all from the same household.
Imaan looked away, continuing her chore.
The door of the second car opened, and a young man who looked exactly like Mujaheed stepped out, though his complexion was visibly fairer. He was also tall, but Mujaheed was clearly his senior by about four years. His mother stepped out from the back of the second vehicle, accompanied by her four other daughters.
A warm smile broke across his mother’s face when she spotted Imaan. "Ah, look at our young lady doing laundry!"
Imaan smiled back shyly, partially hiding her face. "Welcome back, Anty."
Anty replied warmly, "Thank you, Imaan. How is Ammi?"
"She is at home," Imaan replied.
She then shifted her gaze to the fair-skinned young man standing beside Anty, who was watching her intently. "Good afternoon, Brother Yusuf," she greeted.
He smiled. "Good afternoon. Well, if it isn't Daddy's favorite girl, Imaan. Though I highly doubt you were the one who actually did this laundry."
Her eyes widened in mock outrage. "I did it myself!"
Anty interjected playfully, "Who else would do it for her if she didn't? Stop teasing her and ignore him, my dear."
By this time, Mujaheed had already marched toward the entrance of his wing. His mother, Umma, cast a subtle, disapproving glance at Imaan—who pointedly refused to look back at her—and followed her son inside. Anty walked in next, with Yusuf following closely behind. He turned back to look at Imaan one last time, teasing, "I hope you didn't go over to annoy Inna today to the point where she reports you to Daddy."
Imaan laughed. "What do I care about her? I have completely stopped going to her apartment anyway." With that, she turned and headed back to her own section.
Part 2
That night, as Imaan was changing into her pajamas to go to bed, Ammi walked into her room. Fixing her with a serious look, Ammi said, "Go inside, Abba is calling you."
Imaan’s eyes widened in anxiety. "Abba is calling me, Ammi? For what?"
Without answering, Ammi turned and walked out. On the verge of tears, Imaan threw on her hijab and walked out of their wing, her mind racing with fear over why Abba would summon her so late at night.
She quietly pushed open the door to Abba's living room and stepped inside after kicking off her shoes at the threshold. Abba was seated comfortably on a three-seater sofa. Mujaheed was also present, sitting directly on the plush carpet covering the floor. Umma was seated on a single-seater armchair, and Anty was there as well.
With her head lowered in submission, Imaan walked over and sat on the floor close to Anty. In a barely audible whisper, she greeted her father.
Abba acknowledged her greeting and asked, "How are your studies?"
"Alhamdulillah (Praise be to Allah)," she replied softly.
Abba’s face hardened. "Imaan, is this your idea of discipline? Refusing to greet your elders?"
Imaan lifted her head to look at him in confusion.
He frowned deeply. "Is Hajiya (Umma) your agemate that you completely refuse to greet her in this house?"
Imaan remained silent, offering no excuse.
His temper flared. "I am speaking to you, Imaan! And take your eyes off me, my friend!"
Her face crumpled, and she began nervously twisting her fingers. Within a second, she burst into a loud, dramatic sob.
Abba snapped at her, "Oh, so you managed to find your tears because I haven't physically disciplined you yet?"
She continued to wail loudly as if she were being physically beaten. Mujaheed abruptly stood up and let out a terrifying, booming shout at her. Startled out of her wits, Imaan bolted from her spot and ran straight out the door. Mujaheed made a move to pursue her, but Abba held up a hand to stop him.
"Leave her alone, M.A.," Abba said with a sigh. "May Allah guide her."
Umma twisted her mouth in disgust and remarked, "Look at children of nowadays. Even the ones who aren't spoiled turn out terrible, let alone a brat like this one."
Anty quietly stood up and left the living room, while Abba remained silent.
Imaan did not run back to her mother's wing; instead, she headed straight for Inna's apartment. The moment she burst through the door, she threw herself onto a sofa and dissolved into hysterical tears.
Inna rushed out of her bedroom in alarm. Yusuf, who had been lying down on a three-seater sofa, quickly sat up in utter bewilderment. "What happened, Imaan?" he asked.
Inna's hands were literally trembling with panic. "What happened to my Aisha (Ammi)?"
Imaan refused to answer, simply continuing to cry hysterically. Assuming the worst, Inna immediately marched toward the front door.
Through her tears, Imaan quickly called out, "Nothing happened to my Ammi!"
Inna halted in her tracks and walked back inside, visibly irritated. "You need to fear Allah, young lady! My heart nearly stopped just now. What do you think my children would have done? How dare you burst into my house crying like that and dragging me into unnecessary drama while I was sitting peacefully?" In a trembling, suspicious voice, she added, "Let me guess... was it Umma?"
Imaan did not say a word, just nodded through her tears.
Inna sneered, "Which one? You mean that woman who looks like a guinea fowl? The mother of that insolent boy, Mujaheed?"
Swallowing hard, Imaan whispered, "Yes, her."
Inna wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, her temper flaring. "Well, she is going to taste a piece of my mind today! What did she do to you?"
In a small, broken voice, Imaan sniffled, "She went and reported me to Abba, claiming that I never greet her. Meanwhile, even when I do greet her, she never responds to me! That's why Abba called me into his parlor..." She broke down into another fresh wave of tears.
A dark, knowing smile spread across Inna's face as she nodded. "A monkey trying to act like a human. So, what did he do when he called you?"
Looking up at her through tear-rimmed eyes, Imaan sobbed, "He yelled at me terribly..."
Before she could even finish her sentence, Inna stormed out of the apartment. Imaan stole a quick glance at Yusuf, who was resting his chin on his hand, staring at her in complete disbelief. She quickly stood up, pouted, and slipped out of the room.
When Inna arrived at the main duplex, she marched straight into Abba's living room. Abba, Umma, and Mujaheed were still seated there. They all raised their heads in surprise to look at her.
Inna stood squarely in the center of the living room, pointing an accusatory finger at Abba. "Ahmadu! So, while Bukar still draws breath in this world, you have the audacity to target his only daughter? You actually humiliated a fragile, innocent girl over this woman sitting beside you? Ahmadu, despite how much your brother loves you, you willfully closed your eyes and joined hands with others to abuse his only child?"
She untied the edge of her wrapper, using it to dab away theatrical tears. "I see that what pleases me clearly does not please Allah!"
Abba was initially struck dumb. He finally managed to say, "Haba, Inna! What on earth kind of talk is this..."
Furious, she cut him off. "Oh! Am I speaking a foreign language that you have to ask me what kind of talk this is? Well, let me tell you clearly: when it comes to Fatima, I am fully prepared to clash with any living soul in this household! Furthermore, she will never greet your wife again! Is your grand wife too precious to be greeted by people?"
Mujaheed abruptly stood up, looking like he was about to explode with rage as he headed toward the exit. Inna tracked him with a scathing glare before turning her fierce attention back to Abba.
Fixing her face in a harsh scowl, she demanded, "Ahmadu, when was the last time this wife of yours walked her two feet over to my wing to greet me? Exactly! So who is she expecting greetings from? Am I a nobody that she can just look down on? This is ridiculous! Let no one in this house ever raise their voice against my granddaughter again. If you do, I will personally command Bukar to pack his bags and move his family back to his independent house! He was only the one who insisted on living in the same compound with you anyway. Since his daughter is being suffocated here, it’s better they leave!"
She paused, taking a breath before continuing her tirade: "Look at Mujaheed just now—he stormed out simply because I mentioned his mother! You all saw how he almost shoved me to the ground out of pure rage. So, is one mother superior to another? Why can't you protect me the same way instead of backing your wife to alienate me in this house? Well, let's see how far she gets; we will see if she was the one who brought you into this world! This is nothing but sheer disrespect. She is threw a tantrum because Imaan didn't greet her? Well, she won't greet her again! Don't you ever dare mention my granddaughter’s name in your household drama again; let her mind her own business!"
Abba remained completely silent, keeping his head lowered in respect. Umma simply crossed her arms, pointedly staring in the opposite direction.
Abba finally looked up at his mother and pleaded softly, "Please forgive us, Inna."
She threw him a sharp glance. "You had better apologize to your wife instead, since I am the one who ruined her mood." With that final shot, she turned and swept out of the room.
Meanwhile, as Imaan neared her own apartment structure, her eyes caught sight of her agricultural science assignment. She had painstakingly planted beans inside a large tin can, but now it lay utterly ruined on the ground, its roots completely torn out of the soil.
Her eyes widened in horror and fresh tears welled up instantly. "By Allah, I know Rahma did this to ruin my project!" she cried out in bitter frustration, sinking to her knees in despair.
She was so consumed by her tears that she didn't notice Mujaheed approach until he was standing right over her. She turned her tear-stained face up to him, crying even harder.
He hardened his expression, looking down at her feet, and asked coldly, "What happened?"
She stood up, her voice trembling violently. "Brother, look at what Rahma did to my assignment! This project is worth ten marks, and we are supposed to submit it this Friday! Look at how much it had grown; mine was the biggest among everyone's, so she deliberately destroyed it!"
Seeing that he was simply glaring at her with a stern, unsympathetic face, she turned away to walk inside, still sobbing.
Mujaheed suddenly reached out, grabbed her arm roughly, and yanked her back. He fixed her with a piercing look and demanded, "Did you go and report Abba to Inna?"
The moment she realized he had followed her out specifically for that reason, she instantly stopped her crying. With a sudden burst of energy, she wrenched her arm out of his grip and bolted at full speed. She managed to slip through their front door a mere second before he could catch her, slamming the door shut behind her and twisting the key in the lock.
Ammi, who was sitting in the living room watching television, stood up in alarm. "What is the meaning of this, Imaan?"
Imaan burst into a breathless laugh as she sprinted toward her room, calling back, "I am just rushing to go to bed, Ammi!" She darted into her bedroom and locked her door securely from the inside.
Around ten o'clock that night, just as Imaan was drifting off to sleep, Ammi unlocked her bedroom door and walked in. Imaan opened her eyes to see her mother standing over her with a deeply displeased expression.
"What on earth did you steal from Inna's room?" Ammi demanded.
Imaan sat up abruptly in bed. "I stole something from her? Is that what she said?"
Ammi scolded, "Didn't I explicitly warn you to stop going over to her section to bring unnecessary drama to my doorstep? Now, go and fetch whatever it is you took from her; she is standing right outside our door."
Pouting deeply, Imaan climbed out of bed and followed Ammi out of the room. She immediately came face-to-face with Inna, who was standing at the entrance with a stern, tight expression.
Imaan snapped crossly, "What did I ever take from you that would make you follow me here in the middle of the night?"
Inna retorted sharply, "Out of all my grandchildren, no one ever touches my belongings without permission except you! You are the one with this wicked habit. So, hurry up and bring out my alkaki! I know exactly how many pieces I left in that bag; I haven't lost my mind yet!"
Ammi quietly found a place to sit down, staying out of it.
Imaan twisted her face as if she were about to cry and protested, "When did I even come over to your place to steal your food? I don't even eat that much! Besides, didn't you see my hands were completely empty when I walked out?"
Ammi barked an order, "Go and bring out whatever you took right now before I slap you!"
Imaan threw a fierce glare at Inna, marched into the kitchen, and emerged a moment later holding the plastic bag filled with alkaki.
Inna gaped in astonishment, snatched the bag from her hands, and exclaimed, "Look at the power of Allah! Just because Aisha (Ammi) sat down and helped me fry these cakes after I mixed the dough, you thought you could just cart them over here for you all to eat? Well, let me never see your feet in my apartment again; your character is truly terrifying! What kind of upbringing did you even receive, sneaking all the way under a person's bed to pull out a container and steal my food? Let me tell you, it is only because you share my blood that you are surviving; if I were to lay a curse of Allah ya isa on you, it would follow you forever! Frankly, you are only surviving in this house because of my son's grace. Let me never see you in my parlor again; you contribute absolutely nothing anyway except lounging on my sofas and stretching, wearing out my cushions!"
With that final scolding, Inna turned around and marched away.
Avoiding Ammi's gaze entirely, Imaan retreated straight back into her bedroom, locked the door, climbed into bed, and lay there pouting in the dark.
Part 3
The next morning, Imaan emerged into the living room completely ready for school, dressed in her neatly ironed school uniform with her beret perched on her head. She walked into the kitchen to meet Ammi.
Ammi, who was busy pouring hot tea into a flask, glanced at her and said, "I take it you didn't comb your hair today either, right?"
Imaan leaned against the kitchen doorframe with a thoroughly spoiled, whining tone. "But Ammi, it hurts so much! I just can't do it."
Ammi didn't argue. She finished filling the flask, poured a serving of tea into a cup, mixed it appropriately, and handed it to her daughter. Imaan accepted it and walked over to the dining table. Ammi brought over a plate of fried potatoes and eggs she had prepared, set it down, and checked the wall clock.
"Eat quickly so they don't have to wait for you, please," Ammi urged.
Imaan widened her eyes in protest. "Ammi, I am literally the one who waits for them every single day!"
"Fine, then don't rush," Ammi replied dryly, turning back to the kitchen sink to start the dishes.
The moment Imaan finished her breakfast, she returned her plate and cup to the kitchen and grabbed her schoolbag.
Ammi called out, "Check the dressing mirror in my room; there is a one-hundred-naira note there, take it."
Imaan ducked into the bedroom, retrieved the money, and came back out. "Ammi, I'm leaving!"
"Alright. May Allah protect you. Say your prayers before you step out, and ensure you haven't forgotten any of your textbooks, since you clearly don't have a full brain yet," Ammi teased.
Imaan simply laughed, recited her prayers, and stepped out of the house.
She walked over to Yusuf’s parking lot and stood by the car, which was their usual waiting spot. Yusuf was usually the one who drove them to school, though sometimes Anty would drop them off ever since their old family driver left.
As she stood waiting by the car, her eyes caught sight of the agricultural science projects belonging to her cousins—Ummi, Rahma, and Maimoon. They were all in the same class, SS2. Looking at their bean plants, which were flourishing with vibrant green leaves while hers lay destroyed, she felt an overwhelming surge of bitter resentment.
She glanced toward the main entrance of the house to ensure the coast was clear, then marched directly over to the plants. She raised her foot and violently kicked down two of the containers—specifically targeting Rahma and Ummi's, while intentionally sparing Maimoon's, since everyone had written their names clearly on their tins. She stood there until she was absolutely certain the roots had been completely uprooted from the soil, then quickly hurried back to wait by the car.
Ummi was the first to emerge from the duplex, dressed in the exact same uniform as Imaan, followed closely by Rahma and then Maimoon. None of them even looked in Imaan’s direction, except for Maimoon, who asked warmly, "Imaan, did you finish the mathematics assignment?"
"Yes, I finished it," Imaan replied.
Maimoon pleaded, "Oh, thank goodness! Please let me copy it once we get into the car, I haven't done mine yet."
"Sure, no problem," Imaan agreed.
Just then, Mujaheed walked out of the house holding the car keys, his face looking as dark and stormy as a thundercloud.
Imaan’s eyes widened in dismay. She leaned toward Maimoon and whispered under her breath, "Is he the one driving us today?"
Maimoon whispered back, "Yes. Brother Yusuf isn't around; he left for Zaria early this morning. That's why Anty made Brother Mujaheed drop us off, and that's exactly why he's throwing a tantrum."
Imaan pouted but kept her mouth shut. The moment Mujaheed unlocked the car, she quickly slid into the backseat alongside Maimoon and Rahma, while Ummi took the front passenger seat. Throughout the entire drive out of the compound and down the road, an absolute, tense silence hung over the vehicle.
Imaan unzipped her bag, pulled out her assignment notebook, and handed it over to Maimoon. Normally, the drive to their school took about twenty minutes, but because of Mujaheed’s aggressive, high-speed driving, they arrived within a few short minutes.
He pulled up abruptly right in front of the school gate, fixed them with a cold look through the rearview mirror, and announced strictly:
"The moment school dismisses today, you all better start trekking your way back home, because I am absolutely not coming back to pick anyone up."
Ummi said in a soft, placating voice, "Brother M.A., Abba said he is going to hire a new driver for us very soon anyway."
"Get out of my car," he snapped coldly.
Ummi quickly opened the door and stepped out. Imaan and Maimoon wasted no time following her lead, quickly exiting the vehicle and hurrying through the school gates.
