Chapter 1

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MUJAHID

The rustling of clothes I heard from my wardrobe turned my attention towards it and I found my legs walking me there. I already know who it could be but I still need to check.

"Mum" I whined like a kid. I just knew I'm doomed today. Mother will chose my outfit to punish me for not offending her yesterday.

"Jahidi! You spent hours in that bathroom. Are you planning to change your skin color? You are fair in complexion for goodness sake, what were you scrubbing that much? Good thing you are a guy, if you are a lady I don't know how much time it will take you to dress up"

I had my face scrunched up all the while. Jahidi? How many times do I need to spell it out to Mum that I hate that nickname? It would have been better if she just called my name. What's Jahidi?

Now, why on earth should I take a shower like I am just washing my face. That's one thing I take time doing, shower. Especially if it's in the comfy of my bath tub then do not blame me.

"Mum, I was..."

"Keep quiet Jahidi. Yes, Jahidi..." She repeated the name when she noticed how I grimaced at it.

"... I have been here for almost two hours now. I was thinking you would have shed the first layer of your skin and you'll look like a brand new baby boy when you are out. Who knows you'll still be you?"

Are babies brand new? They've been in the uterus for thirty six weeks before they were born.

I wish I could also undergo the ecdysis she was talking about. My Mum was talking science unknowingly.

"Mum!"

"Don't Mum me!" She said raising her hand to keep me off and I just swallowed my words. Wow! My thirty years old self is still a kid to my Mum.

I turned to another side refusing to collect the clothes she was giving me. How on earth am I going to pair a blue shirt with brown trousers and a black tie and stand in front of students as their lecturer? That's not me.

"Mujahid Sa'ad! Come down in these clothes now. I chose your outfits until you were fifteen and you never looked bad all those years, so come down in these very clothes now. You know better than to do otherwise" she scolded and left, tossing the clothes to me.

Okay, she's annoyed. And I have myself to blame.

For one, she asked me to see her yesternight and I stayed the night at the Bala's playing Ps with Mudi until late night so I couldn't return home. Then she came in to talk to me this morning only to find me in shower. My showers are usually an hour and a half, about two hours. Safe to say that I wasn't innocent.

"Jahidi!" My mum shouted again a few minutes after she was downstairs which I didn't bother to answer because that's a reminder that she's still waiting. I could hear my siblings' chatter downstairs and I know if I didn't get out sooner, I'll be having to deal with three teens trapped in twenty-something years old body.

"Yaya Mujahid" someone shouted and that person is going to be none other than the loudest Muhammad I have ever known. Muhammads used to be cool and calm but Muhammad Sa'ad Bichi is an exception. He's too loud for my liking.

.

"Yaya Mujahid! Ya Allah. Did you wash your hands before taking that. " If looks could kill, I would be six feets under now, I'm sure.

But would my little sister try that with me.

I grinned appreciating the taste on my mouth. "Ba laifi!" I commented.

Khairat was fuming. In my bid to appreciate a little bite of her omelette recipe served for breakfast, I had distorted her decoration and I didn't even care. To top it all, I didn't even appreciate her cooking in a way befitting the food in her voice.

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