"Verily, with hardship, there is relief." (Qur'an 94:5)
The whole family was sitting around the dinner table, enjoying their meal. The well-furnished steel chairs sparkled like stars, surrounding a large rectangular table where Raqiya sat in the central chair. She had taken on the role of the family's head, with her grown children now prosperous men and women sitting beside their own kids. It was a full house that evening after iftar on that Thursday, as Raqiya longed for a complete family gathering, missing the unity they once had. Despite always eating together, the absence of Kaka Hadiza, who had passed away, left a void that Raqiya now filled. She felt the weight of living up to everyone's expectations, knowing she was now the pillar of the family, playing the roles of mother, father, brother, sister, and everything in between.
Raqiya held firm to the belief that everything happens for a reason, understanding that her lack of biological children was made up for by Ali, Usman, Khadija, Sadia, and Umar. Even though they were not her own by blood, she considered them as much a part of her as if they were. Ali sat to her right with Umar and Sabrina, while Usman was on her left with Khadija and Anwar. There was always an empty seat that Raqiya's gaze lingered on, a silent wish for Sadia's presence. Despite their strained relationship, Raqiya's love for Sadia remained unwavering.
Anwar had a piece of steak stuck between his teeth, prompting his mother to help him remove it with a toothpick.
"How's the polo game preparation?" Raqiya inquired, aiming to maintain a lively atmosphere. She was enjoying semovita swallow with egusi soup, ensuring everyone had their favorite dishes. Usman opted for toasted bread, finding swallow too heavy, while Khadija and Anwar relished fried rice with steak. Ali and Sabrina savored potatoes with sauce, and Umar joined in. The table was laden with an abundance of food and drinks to quench their thirst.
"It's interesting," Ali responded, assisting Sabrina and feeding her as she kept spilling food on her dress, leaving palm oil stains. "Islam suggested turning it into a fundraiser."
Khadija chuckled softly, earning a disapproving look from Raqiya, who rolled her eyes. "Now a fundraiser? You seem to hang on her every word," she remarked.
"She speaks sense every time," Ali defended, glancing at Usman, who exchanged a look with Khadija, who was now frowning.
"Okay, okay," she said, feeling embarrassed, then grabbed her purse from the side and stood up, planning to leave.
"Sit down, I said sit down Khadija!" Raqiya commanded, her temper starting to flare, adding tension to the already charged atmosphere.
"She rolls her eyes and sits down, gazing at Anwar's innocent face, too young to witness the drama. She hisses, 'Salman was supposed to be here for dinner, but do you know why? Because of you, Ali. You think you're the king or something, making him uncomfortable.'
"Stop it, Khadija, let's maintain decorum for the sake of the kids, please," Raqiya pleads, clearly fed up.
"Stop being a baby," Ali mutters under his breath, loud enough for everyone to hear.
"What did you say?" Khadija snaps, Usman quickly squeezing her hand, silently urging her to calm down.
"Can we just eat in peace?" Usman requests, still holding her hand before she abruptly withdraws in a rugged manner.
"No, until you two stop pushing the idea of separating everything," Umar interjects this time, Usman giving him a pointed look.
"Says the boy who went to Stanford," Usman taunts, he and Khadija chuckling annoyingly.
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