Beyond

FIGHTS AND SIZZLES

-6-

FIGHTS AND SIZZLES

Abuja, Nigeria.

26th February, 2017.

Jiddu, I don't think your daughter would be happy if she finds out you are spying on her." The deep resonance of Alhaji Faruk's voice startled Hajiya Hauwa, and she instinctively rolled down the blinds. The living room, adorned with intricate patterns of earth-toned rugs and plush cushions, offered a discreet vantage point to observe the garden outside.

Peeping from the window, Hajiya Hauwa caught glimpses of the well-tended garden bathed in the warm glow of the evening sun. Lush greenery, vibrant flowers, and the gentle rustle of leaves provided the backdrop for the unfolding drama. The ambient sounds of chirping birds added to the tranquility of their upscale suburban home.

"I was not spying," she said defensively, her eyes still fixated on the garden. "Just wanted to check if they were okay." 

He shook his head, his disapproval evident, and moved to switch on the sleek flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. Hajiya Hauwa knew that convincing him otherwise was futile. Of course, she would not confess to spying on Fatimè and Kamal.

Tuning into NCIS: NY, Alhaji Faruk settled back down on the plush leather sofa, the rich aroma of incense lingering in the air. Hajiya Hauwa, seizing the opportunity, moved close to him and gracefully took a seat on the intricately designed divan. "Faruku, we need to talk. It is very important."

He braced himself, knowing that the phrase "We need to talk" rarely heralded good news. "I'm listening..." he said.

"Don't you think it is time for this relationship to move forward? You know, to the next stage?"

"Next stage? Aren't we like married?" 

Hajiya Hauwa rolled her eyes at his response, "I'm talking about Kamal and Fatimè. They've been seeing each other for two months now. It's time to know where they're headed."

"And Fatimè has repeated several times that they're just friends. If they were moving to the next stage, I'm pretty sure she would not hesitate to inform us. Why are you in such a rush anyway?"

"Ehn ehn, don't give me that friendship story..." she protested. "What kind of friendship lingers on for this long? They should better come and get married; people are already talking..."

He cut her short, his annoyance evident. "If by people you mean those group of minions you call your friends, then I'd suggest... no, I want you to pass this message to them; my daughter's life is none of their business."

"Yide am," she started, this time calmly, "You don't understand; time is not really on her side..."

"And what do you mean by that?" he questioned. "She is just 24."

"I was already pregnant with our second child at that age."

He let out an exasperated sigh, "You are going to compare yourself to our daughter? It was your time; Allah had already ordained it for you. Everyone has his/her destiny. That is why you are Hauwa and she is Fatimè. Clear difference."

"Destiny plays a big role, but she's not helping matters with the way she keeps rejecting suitors. You need to understand...."

He rose abruptly from his seat, the chair scraping against the tiled floor, the sharp noise cutting through the tense atmosphere. The frustration etched on his face was evident, his brows furrowed and jaw clenched. Hajiya Hauwa, for a fleeting moment, sensed a tinge of fear creeping over her. Her husband rarely allowed his emotions to surface in such a raw manner, and the intensity of his reaction made her pause.