Our Friendship

5

Usman's wedding to Sa'ada had come to pass, a union that filled their hearts with joy and anticipation for the future. Yet, a subtle transformation seemed to take hold of Usman, as if a veil had descended upon his expressive nature. He spoke less, but his eyes betrayed a silent turmoil beneath his enigmatic smile. Sa'ada, keenly perceptive, sensed the pain veiled behind his facade, and she believed that with time, his heart would heal from the loss of Abu.

Although Usman and Sa'ada desired to have his children back with them, they both agreed that more time was needed for Usman to establish a stronger bond with his new wife. In the meantime, their absence had brought about profound changes in the children's lives. Ummi, wore a mask of constant cheerfulness, yet her eyes concealed a profound loneliness. Mistakes would often bring her to tears, as she believed that Hajiya, grandmother held disdain for them, convinced that her love was insufficient as she was not their biological mother.

But it wasn't just Ummi's struggles that posed a challenge. She was inadvertently sowing seeds of bitterness in her sister's heart as well. Whenever Amira erred and received a reprimand from Hajiya, Ummi would embrace her, and together they would weep, Ummi whispering words of assurance that Hajiya's scolding was a result of her not being their mother. Amira, innocent and impressionable, absorbed these words, unknowingly fostering resentment in her young heart.

As rain began to fall, casting a gray veil over the world, Hajiya and Ummi found themselves seated in the parlor, seeking solace from the melancholic weather. Ummi, engrossed in writing Quranic verses, felt a drop of rain land on her hand.

"Ummi, where is Amira? I haven't seen her for a while," Hajiya inquired, her attention focused on her granddaughter.

"She is outside playing with Bashir," Ummi replied, her pen gliding across the paper.

"Please, go and call her," Hajiya instructed, concern etched in her voice.

Ummi's countenance shifted slightly, and she pleaded, "Hajiya, can you ask Aunty Baraka to call her? I need to finish these Simuni before tomorrow. You know how slow I write."

"Very well, call Baraka for me," Hajiya acquiesced.

"Aunty Baraka!" Ummi called out.

A woman of average build, around forty years of age, appeared before them.

Hajiya, her gaze fixed on the television, turned her attention towards the maid and said, "Baraka, please call Amira. It's drizzling outside, and she might catch a cold."

"Okay, ma'am," Baraka replied before making her way to the door.

Outside, Amira was engrossed in play with her friends, heedless of the mud and dampness surrounding them.

"Amira, come inside. It's raining," Baraka called out, stepping out of the main parlor. Amira looked at her with a disappointed expression, her voice filled with sadness as she asked, "Why did you call me?"

Baraka smiled gently and said, "It's getting dark, and the rain is starting to fall. We don't want you to catch a cold, dear."

"But we can still see clearly. I want to finish building our house," Amira stubbornly replied, taking a step toward the door.

"Amira!" Hajiya, who had been observing the scene from the veranda, raised her voice, "If you step outside again, I will reprimand you. Look at yourself!"

Amira burst into tears, and Hajiya, paying no heed to her distress, took hold of her hand and led her inside.

Hajiya, unyielding in her determination to protect Amira, guided her to the bathroom and gently washed away the mud from her hands and feet. As they entered the parlor, Amira sought solace in her sister Ummi's embrace, saying, "Yaya Ummi, I thought Hajiya disliked us, but I'm not worried anymore because she's not our mom..."

Hajiya who happens to overheard their conversation badge in to the room, she widened her eyes and she interjected, "Amira, it's not what you think. A grandmother could never hate her grandchild.

Amira's face brightened with relief, and she ran towards Hajiya, taking hold of her hands and beaming with joy. "Hajiya, is it true that you don't hate us?" she asked, her eyes brimming with hope.

Hajiya returned her smile and replied, "Why would I ever hate my angels?"

"I knew it! Yaya Ummi was mistaken," Amira exclaimed, her happiness shining through.

As Ummi left the parlor, seething with frustration, she pondered Hajiya's words. If Hajiya didn't hate them, then why had she allowed their father to marry another woman, especially someone like Sa'ada who seemed to shatter their mother's happiness? Ummi's resentment grew, and she whispered to herself, "I despise those who betray."

Sa'ada sat comfortably on the couch, engrossed in one of her favorite movies, "Ga duhu ga haske" (The Darkness and the Lightness), an old Hausa film. Usman emerged from their bedroom, dressed in a sky-blue kaftan with a matching cap, his presence accompanied by the pleasant fragrance of his cologne. Sa'ada glanced at him, their eyes meeting briefly, and she couldn't help but smile. He appeared remarkably handsome in her eyes.

"Good morning," Sa'ada greeted him, her voice filled with warmth.

Usman chuckled and retorted, "Morning to you? Can it still be considered morning?" He glanced at his watch, teasingly emphasizing the lateness of the hour. "I'm heading out," he announced, making his way towards the door.

"But I thought today was ours," Sa'ada responded, raising her voice slightly for him to hear. Usman turned back, his hand brushing across his lips, his eyes focusing on her face as he said, "What do you mean, 'ours'?"

"I meant since it's the weekend, it would be nice for you to stay at home. Isn't that what civil servants do?" Sa'ada suggested playfully.

Usman's smile lingered as he replied, "Whether I stay home or not is my choice. You don't have to remind me; I know what I'm doing."

Sa'ada smirked, playfully retorting, but before she could speak, Usman interrupted her, raising his palm to silence her. "Please, if you have nothing important to say, I have things to attend to," he stated firmly before leaving the room.

Sa'ada watched him depart, her head tilting slightly as she licked her lips, whispering to herself, "Oops."

Later that night, Usman returned home at 2 am, parking his car in the dimly lit lot before making his way to their bedroom. Stepping into the silent parlor, he noticed the darkness, a peculiar emptiness hanging in the air. Something felt amiss.

As he moved slowly toward his bedroom, his gaze wandered to the dining area, and he had to rub his eyes to confirm what he saw. Zainaba was sitting there, gazing at him with a warm smile, just as she always did whenever he returned late. Usman smiled back at her and walked over, saying, "I told you not to wait for me. You need to sleep early, but you never listen." He reached out to open the food flasks on the table.

Abu's smile widened, showing her upper teeth, as she took a step closer, gripping his hand gently. "Please, Usman, stop going to the bar," she pleaded softly, her words resonating with concern. Before he could respond, she vanished before his eyes.

Usman bit his lip and slapped himself lightly on the cheek, urging himself to wake up from his reverie. "Usman, please wake up. What are you thinking? Zainaba will never be yours again," he muttered, his voice filled with self-realization.

He opened the food containers on the dining table, only to find the same leftovers he had eaten the day before. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he made his way to the bedroom.

To his surprise, Sa'ada was peacefully asleep on his side of the bed. He stared at her for a couple of minutes before lightly slapping her thigh.

"Please, Usman, what is it?" she mumbled, half-asleep.

"Sa'ada, leave this room," Usman shouted, his frustration palpable.

Without uttering a word, Sa'ada got up and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Usman hissed and muttered to himself, "Nonsense!"

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Usman found himself engulfed in a surreal sensation. Abu had been his world, and he had lost her. He knew deep down that Abu loved him wholeheartedly, caring for him as she cared for herself. She never slept until he returned home, always making sure he ate before going to bed.

Pushing these thoughts away, he headed to the bathroom for a much-needed shower...