Bound ✅

Painfully

Halima's mother gave a greeting at the door of Salisu's mother's house before turning the knob. The door was open.

"Salam Maman Salisu." Salisu's mother shook her head and turned down her lips. Halima did like her mother had warned her to. She squatted right in front of her and offered her deepest condolences and sympathy. Tears ran down the older woman's cheeks and Halima swore she felt a knife twist her belly.

She didn't wish ill upon them. Yes they made the first few years in her twenties miserable, but they didn't deserve this pain.

Imagine loosing a son and a grandchild almost immediately after. It was painful.

"Where's Hauwa?" At the question, Salisu's mother pointed towards her room to Halima and she got up to walk there.

"Asalam Aleikum." The women inside replied her greeting and as Halima walked in and recognition dawned on the women, the peaceful greeting gave way to hostile stares. If there was someone who should give hostile stares, it had to be Halima. But she didn't dwell on it. Instead she just walked to Hauwa and sat on the space beside her.

"I'm sorry Hauwa. Really sorry." Hauwa lifted eyes filled with tears unto her and instead of the tension Halima expected, she saw the need to walk away from unsympathetic sympathizers.

And she did.

She whisked Hauwa away from the room into the room she usually stayed in when she went to Salisu's mother's house.

"Cry it all out."

And cry she did.

Halima sat next to her, rocking her gently. It was as though she was seeing the grief from a distance. A young girl like Hauwa loosing so much and in such a short time.

When she finished, Halima drew stripes of tissue paper from her bag for her and made her blow her nose. When Hauwa was done, Halima pressed her fingers under her eyes gently and said duas over her.

"Thank you."

Halima nodded. She knew she'd gained another friend, albeit a younger one.

******

"Jamal come back here."

Jamal rolled his eyes and stopped walking. He spread out his Babban Riga while waiting for his mother to reach him.  He knew it was going to be another fruitless conversation.

"Jamal. Why?" He shook his head at his mother.

"Tell me. I'm your friend." He pursed his lips and clucked his tongue once in impatience.

"Mummy, I know what you're doing. And wallah, it will not work. I don't want to work under Baba anymore. I'm thirty-six. I have my own business that I've neglected all because of Baba's companies." He raised two slim fingers up to show indicate his sarcasm.

"But it's all yours." He stopped to stare at his mother.

"Mum. Don't you live in this house anymore?  Can't you see what he has been saying. I warned him that bastard was stealing money from him and Baba had the strength to have me!" He raised his voice and his mother flinched, feeling her son's pain.

"Me! Jamal! Followed in hopes that I was spending more than my salary." Mummy instead of talking, held Jamal and hugged him to herself, more like hugging the tall, willowy body that was Jamal's.

"Im sorry that happened. But Azeem reported you first. I'm sure he didn't know who to believe." Jamal tried to jerk out of his mother's arms. Key word being - tried.

"And you kept blaming me for forgetting my children.   As if all that I had on my mind wasn't enough. How was I supposed to be happy and healthy when my own father was accusing me of theft and misconduct?" His mother didn't dare let him out of her hold for she knew he'd walk away without looking back.

"Jamal-" He laughed. A bitter harsh laugh that had her cutting off her speech.

"And to a man who just lost his wife to cancer. What in the world were you expecting? I'm not Superman mum. I'm Jamal who just lost his wife a year ago, saddled with two daughters, and a billion dollar business. And I'm expected to be perfect. How mummy?" Tears dropped from his mother's eyes unto the the front of his Babban Riga.

"I'm sorry Jamal. I'm really sorry." He nodded and held his mother to himself. He pulled her away after a few seconds and wiped her eyes.

"It's only in your arms that I can fall apart like this. So, thank you. For Everytime you let me call apart like this. But, I've made up my mind. Unless Baba apologises, I will not run his business and work hard on my own." He kissed her forehead and blotted the front of his clothes with a handkerchief and set his cap properly on his head.

"I'll see you later. My friend is getting married. You remember Obiora ba?" His mother nodded, Obiora was his classmate in University.

"May Allah bless their union." He echoed an Ameen and walked out of the house.

*******

"Zeennnnahhhh!!!"

Loud chatter filled the bride's room and chaos reigned  with a tight fist making Halima smile. The bride was a twenty-six year old shy lady with maniac sisters. All three of them.

"Madam. Aren't you done yet?" Halima jumped and turned around until she discovered it was the make-up artist that was being addressed. She hastened her hands up with the Kanuri hairstyle she was trying to perfect on one of the bride's maid head.

The lady was holding her phone whilst scrolling through Instagram. A picture of a man in a blue babban Riga with the front embroidered in silver that shone came up on her feed and Halima could not help herself, she just had to look.

And found it was Jamal. She cursed softly and went back to plaiting the girl's hair. She almost hissed again.  It was that fool who kept forgetting his children. Women who saw him now would think he was one responsible human.

"He is so hot. So Ma Sha Allah." The girl gushed and  Halima rolled her eyes. Here they went.

"Who is that?" She eagerly showed her phone to the other girls who awwwed and swooned.

"Oooh. Jamal Abubakar." The bride sat back on her chair.

"I can be his second wife. No issue." One other girl swallowed her saliva and shook her head.

"You haven't heard the latest. His wife died." Girl one who's hair was being plaited googled, her eyes widened in the mirror.

" That means I have a chance?" Girl two nodded making girl one clap her hands in glee.

"He is coming to your wedding Amirah?" The bride Amirah shook her head in regret.

"He is not Abdoul's friend. So no. Check the hashtag now, to know where he's going." Girl one checked the hashtag really and gasped.

"He is going to Obiora and Nneka's wedding."  Halima rolled her eyes harder. Now she'd have to turn down the invitation to the wedding. No more free food for her. She wrinkled her brows in deep thought, what were the chances she'd even meet him there.

*****

Hi guys,

How are you doing today. I just wrote two papers and your girl is tired, but this days my therapy is writing. My feel good place is where I am writing this days.

So, thank you all for reading. Please keep commenting and sharing to your friends. I'm grateful.

Please leave comments. I'd love that.

This chapter is for fareeree. Thank you for being a personal babe. ♥️

TheOmoope.