Mrs Mahmud, Mrs Mas'ood

61

March, 2025

It was a miracle their heads weren't bumping into each other.

They stared at the little girl who slept soundly in her cot, undisturbed by the people watching her gentle inhale and exhale. When her tiny hands opened and closed and she let out a small sigh, her spectators brought their hands to their mouth so they wouldn't make a sound. If they woke her up, her father would kill them. The icy glare he sent their way was enough of a threat.

Hauwa, who was half sitting thanks to her propped up bed, laughed tiredly. "Qalb, you'll murder them with that look at this rate."

Muhammad occupied one of the chairs beside the bed with a soft chuckle. "It's like when he was born, Hauwa. Leave him be. I was worse than that."

Hauwa faced him, surprised. "You were."

He nodded. "I was." He took her hand in both of his. "How do you feel?"

She smiled and thought back to the last five hours; seeing Mahmud off to the door when he left for work, getting the last things put in place in the baby's room and in the mini nursery, eating a light breakfast and then coming to the hospital to complain about a lower back pain and cramps only to be told she was already 6cm dilated.

Delivery was a blur and everyone said she was strong. She didn't scream even once and there was no tear, her and Mahmud's baby girl perfectly healthy with full black curls and mysterious eyes they were yet to see because of how tightly she kept them shut. The only people who had seen her eyes were Dr Azra and the nurse that cleaned her and their reactions only made everyone else more curious.

Hauwa nodded. "I feel fine. I'm just really tired and I know in a few minutes, I won't be able to fight off the sleep anymore."

"That's understandable...Nowhere hurts, right?"

She shook her head. "Nowhere hurts. I'm alright, Baba. If anywhere hurts, I'll speak up. I promise."

He patted the back of her hand. "That's good enough for me."

Unable to hold himself back any longer, Mahmud stormed over to the cot and pulled every huddled person away. "Let my baby breathe for God's sake."

Kaycee's head bumped against Hanan's and she rubbed the sore spot. "Oga, relax. It's not our fault that she's so beautiful."

Mas'ood sighed and nearly leaned over again to keep staring. "Masha Allah, Mahmud. She's one lovely baby."

Amal, who had dumped her daughter in her husband's arms outside the room, grabbed her brother's arm and held on. "I still can't believe you're a father."

"I still can't believe you're a mother."

She smiled at him. "Better believe it."

"Better believe this too."

Asiyah returned to the cot with Hanan to continue staring at the little bundle. Baby Muhammad was a mini-Mahmud with deep black curls that fell between Mahmud's straight hair and Hauwa's crazy one. They all turned around when the door opened. The rest of the family found their way in, each person lowering their voice when their gazes landed on Hauwa who was slowly being pulled under by sleep.

Mahmud let them crowd his daughter's cot once again and returned to Hauwa's side. He sat beside Muhammad who smiled at him. "I'm proud of you, Mahmud. I'm proud of the both of you."

Mahmud smiled back, his gaze moving to Hauwa whose eyes were shut. He watched her facial features relax. "Thank you, Baba."

Linda turned from the little girl, her husband's hands on her shoulders. "Are you finally going to tell us what my granddaughter's name is?"