BE MY GUEST

CHAPTER ONE

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

K H A D I J A✓

KADUNA, NIGERIA

Most people think I am crazy, but I couldn't care less about what others think of me; I'm all about having a blast. Why should I conform to society's expectations when I'm just out here being my Gen Z self? It's all about living freely and embracing who I am - a Gen Z baddie ready to shake things up.

Let's rewind to last Saturday, a day that perfectly embodies my ethos. The sun blazed, casting its golden glow over the busy streets. With camera in hand and determination in my eyes, I ventured out for a brand photoshoot, ready to flaunt my unique style to the world. Each click of the shutter captured my infectious energy as I owned the city streets.

But as the sun dipped below the horizon, signaling the end of my exhilarating escapade, reality hit hard upon my return home. Little did I know, my arrival would coincide with the unwanted presence of my aunt's, Hajjo and Aisha. Their disapproving gazes and judgmental whispers instantly dampened my high spirits.

Summoning all the patience I could muster, I greeted them with a forced smile, concealing my true feelings. Before I could settle in, Aunty Hajjo's sharp voice pierced the tension, questioning my whereabouts and chastising my mother for her supposed lack of discipline. The audacity made me internally snort - as if their narrow-minded opinions could ever dim my rebellious spirit.

"Ina wuni," I greeted them with a confident smile, but Aunty Hajjo wasted no time in making a remark.

"Ah, dije. Welcome back," she said, her tone dripping with condescension, "your mother was just telling us that you went for a photoshoot." She snickered, exchanging knowing glances with Aunty Aisha.

I rolled my eyes internally. Here we go again.

"Yes, I did," I replied casually, refusing to let her passive-aggressive comments affect me.

Aunty Hajjo leaned in, her voice lowering to a mockingly concerned tone. "Are you really focusing on your studies, kuwa? I can see your head is just filled with this influencing thing. Kuma dama you're not that intelligent," she smirked, as if she had just delivered the ultimate insult.

I couldn't help but scoff. "Oh please, Aunty Hajjo," I retorted, not bothering to hide my amusement, "my studies are just fine, thank you very much. And as for intelligence, well, I guess we can't all be as brilliant as you, can we?"

My mother shot me a warning glance, but I shrugged it off. I was done letting their negativity bring me down. Today was about celebrating my achievements, not entertaining their outdated opinions.

As I sat there, listening to Aunty Hajjo's tirade, I felt a surge of frustration bubbling within me. How dare she criticize my choices and ambitions? But instead of letting her words pierce through my armor, I decided to take a different approach.

Leaning back in my chair, I met her gaze with a steely resolve. "Aunty," I began, my voice calm but firm, "I appreciate your concern, but I assure you, I am fully capable of balancing my passion for influencing with my studies. In fact, I believe that my creative pursuits only enhance my academic performance."

Aunty Hajjo's eyes narrowed, clearly not expecting such a confident response. But before she could retort, my mother remained silent, her hesitation palpable.

Sensing the tension, I decided to end the conversation before it escalated further. "Well, it was lovely catching up, Aunt's," I said, forcing a polite smile. "But I have some work to attend to. Excuse me."