From Aliya to Hafiz

Seven.

Aliya.

Living in Nigeria, I had my fair share of hearing and seeing shocking things. But what I overheard today would definitely be in the top five.

There wasn't a lack of children disrespecting their parents. But none of the stories I had heard made me as irked, nor as furious, as this.

I wondered, was it because I knew the two party involved? Or was it because it was Auntie who was being disrespected? By the son she loved and cared for with all her heart? Or probably because I never thought Hafiz would sink so low, throwing insults and putting his hands on his own mother.

I didn't realize he hated her to that extent.

Even I was shocked by what he said. Then what about Auntie? Taking a deep breath, I pasted a huge fake smile on my face and entered the living room with a chirpy 'Salama alaikum.'

Auntie doesn't look at me.

Contemplating whether to approach her or greet her from a distance since she seemed pissed when she was talking to that pompous butt, she solved my dilemma when she called me over.

"Good afternoon Auntie."

Instead of replying, she pulled me down roughly to seat beside her on the couch. Startled, I sat down heavily, breathing out sharply through my nose.

I hesitated before calling. "Um...Auntie?"

Her hand that pulled me down tightened and then she was hugging me one moment and bursting into tears the next. Like loud cries with full on sobs and labored breathing, fisting her hand to pound it heavily on her chest as if that would relieve the pain she was feeling in her heart.

Heart squeezing painfully, I hugged her tightly while hurling all the insults I could think of at Hafiz and praying for him to continuously trip and break his collarbone.

That maddening bastard!

Dan kutuman uban!

I didn't know how long passed before her tears dried but she sat leaning against me, drained.

"Aliya."

"Yes?"

"He doesn't know. He doesn't know that those people are just using him for what they can get from him, they're using him to get to me and Ya Mubarak. They don't care about him, they're incapable of caring. If they were, none of this would be happening. Ya Mubarak and I would still be together and Hafiz would've grown up in a complete family."

"Yes, he's a fool."

"I need him to understand the life he's living, for their sake and whatever reason he has to do that, would only lead him to hell. He's going to be firewood for Jahannam if he doesn't get back to his senses."

Actually, he would only be a kindling.

Honestly, I wanted to tell her so what if that were to happen? I mean on that day, parents and children flee at the sight of each other, even the best of friends became enemies and evidences against one another.

She would be worried about herself so where would she get the mind to even remember this bastard son of hers?

It sounded good when I thought about it but in reality, it was sort of like not wanting to live life to the fullest and work hard just because we would die one day.

I mean it was because we would die one day that we had to live right? Go through the highs and the lows, tears and laughter and pains and whatever.

And seeing the way she was genuinely panicking, I decided to not add insult to injury. "But you've come up with a solution for that right?"