Our Fates: Book III of the Fate Trilogy

Twenty-five: This is Good

Assalamu alaikum, new year, new update.

Enjoy!

***

Meena Lawal

I knock on aunty Iftar’s door. She doesn’t reply, so I knock again.

“Hanne?” She calls out.

“It’s Meena, ma.”

I hear a sigh, then a shuffle before she mumbles, “Come in.”

I enter the white walled room with shiny brown furniture matching the closed curtains. Aunty Iftar is huddled on the couch beside the water dispenser, head on her lap.

I stand before her, not sure of what to say. But I have to try, this mood isn’t like her at all. “Aunty Iftar?”

She sniffs, “Are you here to mock me?”

“No ma, I’m just worried.”

She looks up, and my eyes widen. Her face veil is up on her head so I get to see her for the first time. She shares the same round face and pushed out lips as Ummu Badr. Then I notice something else: a curved scar that runs from her eyebrow to her lip. It’s not deep though, and it does nothing to diminish her already obvious beauty.

“Do you plan to stand all day?”

I quickly sit beside her. She leans back against the seat. “We weren’t always like this.” I nod. She sighs. “We used to be closer, happier, until…” She sighs and sits up, facing me, “we weren’t.”

I nod in understanding. “My Ummi was like that with her sister. Although she barely talks about her, I know she misses her.”

“Nothing more painful than missing someone who’s still alive.”

“But I can’t imagine that kind of enmity.” I shake my head. “I have two younger sisters and I never wish for anything to separate just like that.”

“Nobody does. I never wanted this either.” She says. “But…”

“I’m sure there’s a way out.” I say. Sisters can’t be enemies forever.

Aunty Iftar smiles, “It may be too late for us.”

“How?”  I frown.

She opens her mouth, then shakes her head and taps my hand. “Let’s get back to work.” With that, she stands and put back down her niqab.

I watch her go into the bathroom. I sigh, feeling more confused than ever. But there has to be a way. There always is. I just have to find it.

Work goes steadily for the rest of the week, especially as Aunty Iftar and her partners, Barrister Fajr and Doctor Najma spent their days at a village close to Abuja to supervise a school project, leaving sister Mardiyya in charge. For a troublemaker, she wasn’t a bad leader, except when she was in a bad mood.

Ummu Badr left two days after her arrival, only speaking to me, barely speaking to her son. But somehow, she allowed him take her to the motor park. Immediately he got home, he went back to the clown that he used to be, which is strange but also a relief.

On Saturday, I wake up with Uyoon on my mind. I can’t wait to hang out with her.

***

“So you have forgotten about me, abi?” Ummi says into the phone after picking my call.

I laugh, grabbing a mop from a corner of the bathroom. “Haba, no na, shebi we chatted yesterday?”

“Which chat? When Bushra was typing on my behalf. Besides, that doesn’t count as communication. It’s just a lot of strange words and those yellow heads.”