Chapter 33

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Islam wasn't sure what to wear for dinner at Habil's. She was going to meet Raqiya for a special mother-in-law and daughter-in-law date. She felt nervous, excited, and unsure about how to act. She didn't have much experience with visiting mother-in-laws.

She rummaged through her suitcase, messing up her clothes on the bed, in search of a better and elegant dress that would make her feel like the perfect wife material.

Finally, she chose a beautiful purple lace dress with an A-line shape. She carefully tied her hair into a turban and wrapped a big chiffon scarf around her head. To complete the look, she carried an off-white bag she bought in LA and wore comfortable loafers. Standing in front of the mirror, she contemplated her appearance and how she would present herself.

"Is this a special meeting?" asked Inna while standing at the half-opened door.

"How do I look?" she asked, slowly pirouetting like a model.

"Great! I've packed your gurasa in the boxes," Inna replied before leaving.

She wanted to make the meeting special and perfect, which is why she prepared gurasa for Raqiya since it was her favorite food, as Usman had mentioned. She felt anxious about how the meeting would go and hoped that Raqiya would like her and understand why Usman chose her over Laila.

She booked an Uber and nervously rode to the cafe, her heart pounding. Before entering, she checked her mascara and lipstick to ensure they hadn't smudged.

Aunty Raqiya was sitting at the terrace, looking mysterious with her expensive heavy scarves wrapped around her. She had fair skin, a thick long nose, and beautiful eyes, truly the epitome of matan arewa.

"Salamualaikum," she greeted, slightly curtseying as she offered Islam a seat.

"Wa alaikumussalam dear, take a seat," she said in her beautiful and soothing yet strict voice.

They ordered two cups of chilled, dark zobo. Aunty Raqiya sipped her zobo slowly, admiring Islam's poise and grace.

"Do you know why I asked for a date?" Raqiya asked, as Islam anxiously shook her head. "Because I want to talk about you and Usman's relationship. I don't think I approve of this relationship."

Shocked, disappointed, and sad, Islam asked, "Why don't you approve of our relationship?"

"I know you're a good girl, Islam, and you come from a responsible family. But I want you to know that Usman is made for Laila, and that's the truth. I can never imagine anyone except Laila with Usman."

"But if you give me a chance..."

"No. I don't want you to feel disappointed, so I can't beat around the bush. I agree that Usman has never been in love like this, but please don't let him go to Lagos with you, please," she pleaded while caressing Islam's hands. "Please do me a favor."

"I understand that you don't like this relationship, so I'll just do as you say," she said absentmindedly.

"Thank you very much. God will bless you, and I wish you prosperity," she mentioned, then rose from her seat and pressed her lips on her forehead before picking up her purse to leave.

Islam quickly rushed to the washroom because she was tired of holding back her tears. She turned the tap on the basin and washed away her makeup and tears with the running water before unrolling tissue to clean her face.

She sighed, then reached for the doorknob, but someone was already there, doing the same thing.

The lady was wearing dark sunglasses with a vintage scarf tied under her chin, looking elegant and mysterious. She took off her sunglasses, and Islam recognized her. "Hi."

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