BEYOND THE ABAYA

25. A Helping Hand, A Sweet Treat

As I passed through the grand gate of Alhaji Isma'il Gwarzo, the majestic mansion unfolded before me. The main flat stood prominently at the center, while his son's residence was nestled to the right. A serene fountain beckoned me forward, and I rounded it to reach the left side of the house

I pulled mom's car into the usually empty parking lot, reserved exclusively for the three of us close to Husnah's side. But today, it was occupied by Husnah's sleek white Mercedes Benz G-Class and Bisola's luxurious white Range Rover Velar. The sight brought back memories of our law school graduation, when we had asked for white cars as gifts. To our surprise, our parents delivered.

I remembered the thrill of receiving my own white G-wagon too, Husnah and I decided to get the same type of car. Bisola, on the other hand, had gone for a flashy BMW 7-Series, but later traded it for the Range Rover Velar.

As I stepped out of mom's car, the warm sun on my skin and the sound of birds chirping in Husnah's beautifully manicured garden transported me back to those carefree days. We had studied together, supported each other through late-night cram sessions, and celebrated every milestone.

Husnah had taken over her mother's law firm. Bisola had started her own practice, focusing on human rights.

The sound of the front door opening broke my reverie. A maid who i remembered her name to be Kabira smiled warmly, her eyes sparkling with welcome. "Hey, long time no see! Come on in."

I grabbed my bag and followed her into the house, eager to reconnect with my friends.

I entered the back door of the flat, my point of entry, led me into a spacious hallway. The back door to Alhaji Gwarzo's biggest living room stood proudly on the ground floor facing me, a testament to the family's warm hospitality. To my left, a graceful staircase curved upward, inviting me to ascend to Husnah's private sanctuary on the second floor.

On the right side of the hallway, a door opened onto the first floor, once shared by Husnah's father and her late mother. Now, this elegant space is shared by Alhaji Isma'il and Ayda, a poignant reminder of the family's history and legacy. Husnah's brother's flat remained tucked away.

As I stepped into this opulent world, I felt enveloped by warmth, love, and cherished memories of 5years ago. I climbed the stairs to Husnah's floor, and with each step, the anticipation grew. Suddenly, the warm, vibrant atmosphere of Bisola's presence wrapped around me, and I couldn't help but smile.

The sound of their carefree laughter and playful teasing of Aunt Abike drifted down from above, drawing me in. I quickened my pace, eager to join the gathering

As I entered her personal living room, Husnah and Bisola were teasing Aunt Abike. Husnah gestured dramatically, her hands fluttering like butterflies, while Bisola was grinning mischievously, her eyes sparkling with amusement."

A laughing Husnah asked, "Aunt Abi, your fashion sense is straight out of the 80s! When was the last time you updated your wardrobe?" she glanced at Bisola, and they share a conspiratorial smile

Bisola chuckled too "Yeah, Aunt Abike, you're bringing back old memories for bell-bottom jeans and oversized blazers!" Her shoulders shaking.

Aunt Abike laughed defensively, hands on hips, her eyes twinkling "Hey, my style is timeless! You young ones just don't appreciate elegance!" she wagged her finger at Husnah and Bisola.

I entered, both Husnah and Bisola glanced at me, their faces lighting up with excitement

I smiled warmly, walking over to Aunt Abike, giving her a small hug "Hey, hey, leave Aunt Abike alone! She's always looked fabulous to me."