HUSNA

Chapter8

VICTORIA ISLAND, 1004 ESTATE, LAGOS
"Alhaji, it's getting late," she said, glancing at the wall clock that had just struck past eight. "Since Asr, you've had us cook all this food, saying a guest was coming. Which guest keeps people waiting this long, eh?"

"Patience, Hajia," Alhaji replied calmly, adjusting his glasses and glancing at the window. "Our guest will soon arrive, in sha Allah."

The aroma of  rice, pepper soup, and freshly baked meat pie lingered in the air. The house was unusually quiet, everyone waiting for this mysterious "guest."

The middle-aged woman.... ....yawned and stretched. "Me, I'm tired. If this 'special guest' doesn't come soon, I'm going to sleep o."

The parlor was beautiful in a quiet, expensive way...gray and cream walls, velvet couches, and a gold chandelier that cast soft light across the room. On the glass coffee table sat a vase of white roses, and beside it, a bowl of suya Alhaji had insisted they buy "just in case."

Then suddenly, the sound of a car horn broke the silence.

Alhaji's face lit up. "I think he's here," he announced, rising quickly.

The door opened, and there he was...Captain Abdulhameed...tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a black polo and jeans, a travel bag slung over one shoulder. His eyes sparkled with mischief and exhaustion.

"Daddy!" he grinned, spreading his arms.

"Abdulhameed!" Alhaji exclaimed, his voice breaking with emotion as he pulled him into a tight embrace. "Welcome home, my son!"

"Daddy," Abdulhameed laughed, "I see gray hairs now! Are you sure I left a father or a grandfather behind?"

"Wayo boy," his father chuckled, swatting his arm lightly. "You'll never change, Captain."

Abdulhameed's gaze wandered toward the staircase. "Where's my heartbeat?" he said with a smile. "Don't tell me she's already asleep."

"She was complaining about you taking too long," Alhaji teased. "Go and find her before she pretends to ignore you."

He hurried upstairs, his heart beating faster with each step. The familiar scent of lavender filled the hallway....his mother's favorite.

He knocked softly before pushing open the door. "First love," he called, "should I go back since you don't want to see me?"

At first, she thought she was dreaming. Then she heard it again....his voice. The voice she hadn't heard in years except through phone calls.

Her eyes widened as she turned around. "Abdulhameed... is that really you?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

He stepped closer, smiling through his own tears. "Yes, mom. It's me."

She reached out, touching his face gently, as if to be sure he was real. Then she broke into tears, laughing and crying all at once. "Subhanallah! My son is home!"

He  wrapped his arms around her, resting his forehead against hers. "Don't cry, my first love. I'm here now."

She smiled through her tears. "You love surprises too much. I should scold you, but my heart is too happy."

He chuckled. "I couldn't tell anyone...not even Daddy. My Training Captain doesn't know I escaped Cyprus. If he finds out, I'm finished."

His mother laughed, shaking her head. "As if you ever listen to anyone. Welcome home, Hameed. But next time, bring a daughter-in-law too, so I can forgive you properly."

He laughed, "Ah, mom, one step at a time."

LATE NIGHT
After a hot shower and prayers, Abdulhameed changed into a simple white T-shirt and grey joggers before coming downstairs.