February 28

|34|

Abuja, Nigeria.

"Yaya Aabaan, can I ask you something?" Taslim said, breaking the silence that cloaked the dining hall.

"Sure," he replied, not looking up from his plate of stir-fried spaghetti. His appetite was absent, and his mind wandered far from the table.

"What are you and Ummi hiding from me?" Aabaan's brows furrowed.

"Hiding? I don't understand. Do we seem like we're keeping something from you?" He met her gaze, but she quickly looked away. Since those videos, she had found it difficult to meet his eyes.

"Ummi has been away for days, and when we talk on the phone, she sounds sad. You're also never around."

Aabaan opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, they heard someone greet with salams from the parlor. Taslim shot up from her chair and rushed to the entrance, where Muneefah stood. She threw herself into her embrace.

"I missed you so much, Ummi. Please don't go anywhere again. I was so lonely."

"I won't, my love, I promise. I missed you too. So much," Muneefah smiled, holding her daughter tightly. But her eyes drifted past Taslim to Aabaan, who was standing at the step separating the living room and dining hall. She studied him intently, trying to decipher the storm that raged within him. His face betrayed nothing but exhaustion—a void of sadness. Her poor Jojo.

Releasing Taslim, she walked toward Aabaan. He offered her a small smile before embracing her, a gesture she immediately reciprocated.

"What's the matter, Jojo?" She whispered.

"Nothing, Ummi. You've had a stressful few days. You should rest. Auwal told me everything that happened," he said, referring to Jaiyana's outburst and rejection.

"Don't you dare," she commanded, her sharp hazel eyes pinning him down. It was a tone she only used when she wanted the truth from him.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Listen, Ummi, I've got it handled for now. Please, just rest. I promise we'll talk later."

Muneefah sighed in reluctant agreement before her expression softened into a smile. "Alright then, Munaya is here."

Aabaan's exhaustion melted away, replaced by a bright smile that hadn't graced his face in sixteen years.

"Where is she?" he whispered, still smiling, overwhelmed by the thought of reuniting with his mother, finally free of the mental illness that had kept her away for so long.

At that moment, a gentle salaam was heard, and Munaya's face appeared. Both she and Aabaan locked eyes, tears filling them. Her hand instinctively covered her mouth to muffle her sobs. She was seeing her son for the first time in sixteen long years—her once-teenaged son, now a grown man. She remembered their last night together vividly, when he had bid her goodnight as always, his deepening voice teasing her about a cockroach she freaked over, before heading to his room next to hers.

"Aabaan," she whispered.

"Meemah," he whispered back. In seconds, he wrapped her fragile frame in his strong arms, and they wept together. It was the second time he had cried in sixteen years—the first was when Jaiyana slipped into a coma, and now this.

"It's been so long, Aabaan. I missed you," she sobbed against his chest.

"I missed you too, Meemah, every single day." They stayed in each other's embrace for what seemed like eternity before parting.