Of A Forgotten Storm (Under Editing)

Prologue

Noor scowls at her reflection in the full-length mirror attached to her massive in-built closet, which occupies three-quarters of the wall. Her long, thick, and full afro hair stands up as if ready to wrestle, showing no sign of being combed despite her efforts for the past few minutes. The rage growing inside her is not making it any easier. She is pissed!

Who will be the scapegoat? She has to vent her frustration on somebody, and who else besides their poor housemaid, Asabe? Besides Noor's father, Asabe is one of the few people who patiently tolerate her. If not for the good pay from her employer, Asabe knew she would have left by now and long forgotten.

"ASABE!" Noor yells at the top of her lungs. In a matter of seconds, Asabe comes running into the room, greeted by Noor's strong aura. Noor might be young, but she has such a strong presence that makes people stay within their limits. To those who think they can cross her, then welcome! She barely smiles, and if she does, it comes with a price.

The four walls of the room are covered in pink and black leopard skin wallpaper, with white furniture and curtains. A bookshelf stands alongside Noor's reading table by the window at the far right of her queen-sized bed, creating a small reading area.

Asabe stands in the center of the room, waiting for Noor's ranting.

"Goodness, you walk like a tortoise," Noor grimaces with a hiss, throwing the comb she was holding towards the door where Asabe stood. Luckily, Asabe sees it coming and dodges. Noor has a smug look on her face, seeing the horrified expression on Asabe's face. Spoiled brat! Asabe thinks.

"I am sorry, I was doing some work in the kitchen. Do you need anything, ma'am?"

"Uhm, start packing my clothes. After that, I need my hair done," Noor says dryly, without any care or thought for the lady being older than her. Asabe stares at the pile of clothing on the bed and the various pairs of shoes scattered on the once-clean tiled floor. To think that Noor is only going away for two to three days, Asabe wonders why she needs to pack so many things. Knowing Noor very well, Asabe knows that any clothes that enter that suitcase, whether used or not, must be washed when they return. Noor doesn't trust anyone there, especially her grandmother and cousins. She always says, 'Who knows what the witches sprayed in there.'

"Dear, I am still making breakfast, and right now, there's your pancake on the pan. I'm afraid if I stay here any longer, it will get burnt," Asabe explains very politely and in a soft tone, even though she knows it won't make a difference to Noor.

"How is that supposed to be my problem? I think you're all paid for that. Stop being lazy and start packing my clothes. I don't care what you have to do. And don't 'dear' me. I don't remember being one to you," Noor concluded just as someone yelled, "Something is burning in the kitchen!" The maid rushed out of the room.

Asabe stared at the coal-like pancake and hissed at herself, annoyed for still working in that house. She poured another batter into the pan, and soon the burnt smell was replaced with a pleasant one, along with the sweet aroma of the chai latte she was making and the already finished cinnamon rolls, plain fried yam, and scrambled eggs. All this for just two individuals, Noor and her father. Not that they had a huge appetite; it was just Noor being Noor.

Asabe arranged the breakfast on the table, one dish after another, from the fresh orange juice to the cut fresh fruit and all the other foods that Noor had requested, which she might barely touch. Sometimes she would just say she lost her appetite, and all the food would go to waste. As for Asabe, she would pack everything to take to her family.

Noor and her father started eating their food quietly. The little devil, as many called her, including Asabe, looked so adorable talking to her father, who looked at her with so much adoration. Asabe felt pity for the man who believed his daughter was an angel. She sometimes wished Noor was her own daughter so she could mold her into a better person and teach her how to respect and value people, the hard way—the Nigerian way. The easy way was not in Noor's dictionary.

At the beginning of her job, Asabe thought she could instill some moral sense into Noor's head, but she failed miserably. Then, Noor was only fourteen. Now, two and a half years later, it has only gotten worse. Out of the goodness of her heart, Asabe only prays for guidance for Noor from the Almighty.

"Abbah, can we not go? I am already feeling so tired, pleaseeeee," Noor pleaded, flashing her pearl-like white teeth. Her father only smiled, not giving in to her antics.

"Noorie, my dear girl. How can we celebrate Eid only the two of us? Even Asabe won't be here to cook for us. It won't be fun, my girl. It's just a few hours' drive," Adam said softly, trying to convince his already pissed-off daughter. He knew she hated the fact that they couldn't celebrate Eid in their own home. But what could he do if they were only a family of two? And it was one of the few times Adam got to spend with his family since he lived away from his family's hometown and in another city. He also wanted Noor to have other people in her life besides him.

Noorur-Rahman, the only daughter of the divorced bank owner, the chairman of Vertex Bank, Alhaji Adam Ilu Danja. He chose to stay unmarried until a woman who would truly love and care for his daughter came along. His three previous marriages weren't successful simply because the women failed to be good mothers to his beloved girl. For him, anything for the princess.

Noor went through a lot of taunting as a child from her father's half-siblings and then her first stepmother. Along with that, she was only two months old when her mother left her with her workaholic father, which was the sole reason for her parents' divorce. More than anything, Noor loathed her mother. Everyone said she abandoned her, and Noor believed it. The woman has never shown up, not even once, or called to ask about her. It's like she vanished into thin air with no trace. No matter how Noor tried not to be bothered by that harsh truth, it still hurt. Especially when she witnessed other mothers doting on their children with so much love and care, she wondered what her fault was for her own mother to leave her.

Noor doesn't care anymore; that's the story of her life when she used to cry over not having a mother. Especially since her first stepmother told her if her own mother left and never came back for her, then no woman would ever love her with motherly affection. Although she hated her stepmother for telling her that, she was only a child then. But as time went by, Noor couldn't agree more. That's why she and the elderly women never got along. Now, at the age of sixteen, hitting seventeen, she has never seen her mother, not even in pictures. Her father doesn't talk about her, and she never asks.

What annoys Noor the most is that some people like to bring up her mother all the time. She is constantly reminded of the woman by her father's family, and whenever she's mentioned, it's by the grown-up relatives who never get tired of taunting her. Sometimes Noor assumed they didn't remember how old she was. Nonetheless, they were shameless bullies, and Noor wasn't any better.

From all she has learned from her family, Noor knows how to manipulate others and come out clean. With her angelic face, she seems like a dream come true. She has grown into a disrespectful and rebellious teenager to anyone except her father, who wouldn't believe you if you told him otherwise. She knows exactly how to make people feel low about themselves. She leaves no stone unturned when it comes to bullying. Noor is not religious either, so whenever she says her name, she leaves the one asking astonished.

Tell your friends to tell their friends that Noor is coming back to stay this time, so fasten your seat belts and let the drama uphold at your disposal.

So who and who's excited to be with me as we learn more about Noorur-rahman's life changing journey to adulthood?

I am so excited.

So comment and vote lemme hear you.

Ramadan Mubarak.

Assalamu alaikum