So close, yet so far

04

ABUJA, NIGERIA

Hauwa crouched beside Muhammad's chair, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she gazed at her six-year-old nephew, who was notorious for his picky eating habits. She began to sing the familiar tune, her voice rising and falling in a playful cadence:
"'Open, open, open wide, let the food come inside!" She gestured dramatically with her hands, coaxing Muhammad to join in, her fingers wiggling like a puppeteer's. Muhammad's small face scrunched up in resistance, but Hauwa's infectious enthusiasm eventually won him over. He hesitantly opened his mouth to sing along, his tiny voice squeaking out the words. Seizing the opportunity, Hauwa quickly popped a spoonful of food inside, trying to catch him off guard. Muhammad's eyes widened in surprise, and his face scrunched up in distaste. He pouted, his lower lip jutting out in a comical expression of displeasure, but Hauwa just laughed and encouraged him to chew, hoping her trick would work its magic once again.

His elder sister, Hanan, who is eight-years-old, sat beside him and Hauwa on the dining table as she silently ate her food. Unlike her brother she wasn't a picky eater and she ate whatever was given to her.
"Mamman quickly finish eating, otherwise we will be late for school." Hanan said just as she finished eating her food. When Hauwa checked the time, she realised they were indeed going to be late because it was already 7:47. She quickly finished feeding Muhammad and the driver took them to school.

Hauwa hastily made her way to the bathroom to take a refreshing bath. The warm water cascaded down her skin, washing away any lingering fatigue from the morning's chaos. She emerged feeling revitalised, her skin glowing with a soft radiance.

Wrapping herself in a plush towel, Hauwa made her way to her bedroom to dress for the day. She slipped into her NYSC uniform, the crisp fabric rustling softly as she moved. She paired it with a white Jersey veil, the delicate fabric draping elegantly around her face like a gentle caress. The simplicity of the outfit belied the complexity of her emotions, a mix of excitement and nerves as she prepared to embark on the journey to camp with Rahma.

Downstairs, Hauwa settled into a chair at the dining table, her eyes fixed on the clock as she waited for Rahma to arrive. The silence was broken only by the soft ticking of the clock and the occasional chirp of a bird outside. Just as she was starting to feel restless, Aisha and Mubarak emerged from their room, both dressed in their finest attire.

"Good morning, Mai-Jidda," Mubarak said, his voice warm and friendly.

Hauwa greeted him with a smile, deliberately ignoring Aisha. The tension between them was palpable, a lingering residue from their earlier conversation.

Aisha, sensing the chill, approached Hauwa hesitantly. "Mai-Jidda, I'm so sorry again for what I said about Sa'eed. I promise to never say anything bad about him again."

Hauwa's expression softened slightly, her voice measured. "See that you don't, ya  Aisha. I trust him, and I won't have anyone speaking ill of him."

Just then, Rahma arrived, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Hey, guys! Sorry I'm late."

Hauwa's gaze turned to her, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice. "Rahma, what was that message you sent? Please you guys should just trust Sa'eed."

Rahma's expression turned confused and hurt but still said. "I know, I know. I just got worried, that's all."

Aisha's eyes widened in concern, but she kept quiet, not wanting to offend Hauwa again.

Mubarak, sensing an opportunity, cleared his throat. "You know, I can help you guys escape staying in the camp. I have some connections..."

Hauwa's smile was gracious, but firm. "Thank you, Ya Mubarak, but Sa'eed has already taken care of that. His family is...well-connected."