HUSNA

Chapter 65

"The strength of a family, like the strength of an army, lies in its loyalty to each other." – Mario Puzo

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Eight Months Later...
Unguwar Dosa, Kaduna
Husna sat cross-legged on the bed, her baby bump proudly stealing the spotlight. The evening light from the window danced across her face as she squinted at her reflection on the phone screen.

"I've put on weight again," she muttered poking at her cheek. "Wallahi, look at me  I'm huge."

Across the video call, Hameed froze. The man had learned the hard way that pregnancy came with its own military training manual: Rule number one never, ever comment on her size.

"Who told you that?" he asked quickly, voice full of damage control. "You look amazing, baby girl.

There's no woman your age..

Her eyebrow shot up. "My age?"

He blinked. "I mean...uh...no, like...you just look... younger than people your age! Like, ten years younger!"

She narrowed her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips. "You're lucky you're fine, Captain. Otherwise, I'd have unfriended you for that sentence."

He laughed, relief flooding his face. "You see why I love you? Always threatening me with style."

Truth is, pregnancy had turned her  into a full emotional orchestra. One minute she was crying over a Nollywood wedding scene; the next, she'd be lecturing Hameed for breathing too loud. But through the chaos, she was glowing. Eight months down, one to go, and she was finally starting to see the light at the end of the hormonal tunnel.

She'd done so much in those months. Finished her master's in Biomedical Science (with distinction, thank you very much), landed a job in a Cyprus lab, and started earning her own money. A real boss mama, just that the boss now waddled when she walked.

The first trimester had been a horror movie. Hospital trips, constant vomiting, and dramatic cries of "I'm dying!" every few hours. But by the second trimester, Hameed had taken leave just to care for her  massaging her legs, staying up through her cravings, and pretending he enjoyed 3 a.m. pepper soup.

When they found out it was twins, he nearly fainted. Twice.

Now, with her due date set for December 9th, they'd turned baby prep into a full-time hobby. The nursery looked like something out of Pinterest tiny cribs, pastel walls, little clothes folded in matching sets. They'd even argued over baby names like two politicians debating over budgets.

She  often thought she was the luckiest woman alive. Hameed had grown into the kind of husband every girl dreams of  patient, calm, and completely besotted. He called her "my Angry Bird," rubbed her back when she cried for no reason, and learned to say "yes, baby girl" as a survival strategy.

Still, she was stubborn. When h Faiza announced her wedding , she  had to attend. Hameed had said no at first, but she gave him the Kaduna Silent Treatment Package™  one week of short replies, cold hugs, and "okay." By day seven, the man surrendered like a soldier at the peace table.