.
.
.
Aslam received Nabil's message with the forwarded flight details. He added: "Cost me £3,128. Just send £4k, Thanks!"
Nabil left London Heathrow that night at 10:30 p.m., and arrived in Nigeria at almost 5 a.m. Outside, the familiar warmth of the Nigerian air hit him as he walked out to the arrivals. Mallam Yakubu, spotted Nabil pushing his hand luggage towards he car.
"Mallam Yakubu, ina kwana- good morning" Nabil greeted him.
"Sannu da dawowa, Nabil. Ai bansan da zuwan ka bah. Jiya daddadare Oga Aslam ya kira yace inzo -Welcome back, Nabil. I didn't know you were coming. Oga Aslam called me last night and told me to come get you."
Nabil smiled "Allah Sarki, ya iyali? -How's your family."
"Alhamdulillahi, suna lafiya -they are fine."
"Shikenan kayan naka? -Is this all your luggage?" Mallam Yakubu asked, gesturing at Nabil's navy blue goyard suitcase.
"Eh shikenan, ba dadewa zanyi bah -Yes, I am not staying for long." Nabil smiled.
The drive home was quiet, Nabil fell asleep on their way until Mallam Yakubu's voice woke him up that they were home.
Inside the house was quiet. Nabil smiled when the familiar scent of Mami's bakhoor hit his nostrils. He approached Mami's door and knocked softly, "Mami? Nabil ne - It's Nabil." When there was no response, he tried the doorknob, but it was locked. With a sigh, he turned and headed to the chalet to freshen up, hoping she was getting better.
***
Meanwhile, Aslam had already began his day, channeling his pent-up frustration at the gym. His fists pounded the punching bag with so much force as sweat poured down his face, his muscles ached, but he didn't stop until his arms gave out. When he finally stopped, he stood panting.
He fixed himself a protein shake, drinking it in silence as he stared out of the window. The adrenaline from the workout had subsided, but the frustration remained.
After a quick shower, Aslam felt slightly calmer, but he dreaded meeting Nabil because he knew deep down that he would lose his calm.
Around 11 in the morning, as he finished getting ready, Aslam turned to Amna. "I'm heading to the family house," he told her, his voice calm but with a trace of underlying tension.
"I'll come with you," Amna replied, sensing his unease. She knew how much this situation was weighing on him.
As they drove to the house, Amna could feel the tension radiating from Aslam, his grip on the steering wheel tighter than usual.
When they finally arrived, Aslam parked the car and took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what was to come.
"You go ahead inside," he said to Amna, his voice low. "I'll join you in a bit. I need to make a call first."
Amna nodded before stepping out of the car. He watched her walk towards the entrance, her figure slowly disappearing from view.
He pulled out his phone, dialling Abdulrahman's number as he began pacing the vast front yard. The call was brief. Aslam's steps quickened as he spoke. The conversation ended, and Aslam stood there for a moment, staring at his father's section then sighed and walked into Mami's section.
The sight of Nabil casually sitting at the dining table, enjoying breakfast as if nothing had happened made Aslam's blood boil.
Nabil glanced up, a piece of toast halfway to his mouth, and greeted him with a lazy nod and half smile. "Ya Aslam! Wagwan? Mami's still not awake, what's wrong ne"
