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Aslam lay awake, staring at the ceiling after fajr salah. His phone vibrated on the nightstand, and he reached for it, glancing at the screen with tired eyes. It was a message from Abdulrahman: " I'll be in Abuja by 8:30."
He rubbed his eyes and sat up, letting out a huff and checked the time: 7:04. He needed to get ready and head to the airport to pick him up.
He gently removed his arm from Amna's waist, who was still asleep beside him, and got out of bed.
The events of the previous night remained on his mind, and he knew he had to be prepared for the difficult conversations ahead- a ton of them.
After a quick shower and a change of clothes, Aslam found himself in the kitchen, brewing coffee. He leaned against the counter watching the caffeine liquid trickling down into his mug, lost in thought, then finally took the mug taking a sip of his coffee and moved to the dining room.
He glanced at the watch on his wrist, 7:38am. Henry's shift started at 8 in the morning. He pulled out his phone and dialled the chef's number.
"Morning Henry, please quickly make breakfast when you come in, heading to the airport to pick my brother up."
He headed back to the room and grabbed his keys, other phone, and card holder then gently tapped on Amna's shoulder, caressing her cheeks.
"Babe," he whispered, leaning closer, "Zan tafi airport in dauko Abdulrahman -I'm going to the airport to pick up Abdulrahman."
Amna's eyes fluttered open. "Uhmm, okayyy," she murmured with a yawn, her voice heavy with drowsiness. "Take care, baby."
He nodded, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "I will, love. We'll be back soon."
***
In the bustling airport parking lot, Aslam stood leaning against his black BMW, waiting. His Ray-Ban sunglasses shielded his eyes from the sun, he watched an interesting argument between two people about the economy in a bid to distract himself from the thoughts that kept him up at night.
Just past 8:30am, he watched as the chopper with his father's company logo that had brought Abdulrahman from Bayelsa descend and land.
Moments later, Abdulrahman appeared, striding towards him with the confident gait that Aslam had always admired. Even from a distance, Aslam could see the hint of smile in his brother's eyes. As he walked closer, Abdulrahman's face broke into a smile, though the concern behind it was unmistakable.
"Aslam!" Abdulrahman called out, stretching his hand for a hand shake.
"My brooo," Aslam responded with a big smile, stepping away from the car and moving towards his brother. They shook hands and embraced.
"It's good to see youuu," Aslam said. "Thanks for coming so quickly."
Abdulrahman pulled back, his hands still resting on Aslam's shoulders. "Of course," he replied, reassuringly. "Anything else comes second. But I need to get back to Bayelsa today because I have to return to Lagos and spend the weekend with the family."
Aslam nodded in understanding. "How are they?" He asked. "Zainab and the kids, Oga Amir ya daina mischief? -Has Amir stopped his mischief?" he asked with a smile.
"All good," Abdulrahman replied with a small smile. "Zainab asked when you're taking Amna to visit. Hanifa is always talking about Uncle Aslam's wife." He quoted his last statement with his fingers.
