Nicosia, Cyprus.

A brown skinned lady dressed in an urbane mauve turtleneck top, matching Stuart Weitzman and white sailor pants stood in front of the conference table. She has on a cream blazer and a matching veil tied into a turban cap. Her face held minimal make-up, which consisted of kohl and lip balm. Her substantial doe eyes stood out amongst all her other features, her nose isn't the most slender but her rubicund lips cover up for them.

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet the peculiar witty CFO Maryam Rufa'iy Muhammad.

Although she's standing in front of 10 board members, and 3 other influential guests, her voice never wavers as she talks. This is one of the qualities that make her stand out.

"And this is why Andrew & Angale is the best building company in Nicosia for you to start up a business with" she concluded her presentation with a smile on her face.

The CEO of the company smiled proudly, he is beyond proud to say that she is the first female board member in his company. She has the potentials needed; so much that she has surpass some of the male board members. But right now, it wasn't his decision that matters; it was the foreign investors' that matters. So, everyone looked at them expectantly.

The one at the helm who seems to be in his early thirties and dressed sharply in a swanky raven Armani suit stared at her, his face void of any emotion. The kind of the look is enough to make one tremor, but she didn't. He looked away and moved his gaze back to the CEO who stared at him keenly.

"I have to say Mr Andrew I'm impressed, you've got a keeper. I'll have my assistant prepare the merger papers, it's a deal" he said as a smile made its way on his face.

The CEO grinned as he stretched his hand for a handshake, "Thank you Mr Killian" he said as they shook hands.

"Miss Muhammad that was an exceptional presentation, one of the best I've ever seen, it's a job well done. Impresionante!" Mr Killian complimented her with a little hint of Spanish. The two people beside him nodded in agreement.

She smiled broadly and was about to reply when her phone buzzed, "lo siento! I'm sorry" she said as she quickly answered the call.

Under other circumstances she wouldn't have answered the call, but seeing the caller she was more than ecstatic to answer it. Her face instantly brightens up upon hearing the news.

"YESSS!!! ALHAMDULLILAH!" she yelled as she jumped around giggling like a little girl who has been given candy.

They all stared at her startled; most of them look at her as if she grew two heads, questioning her sanity. What she is doing is absurd and unusual but she didn't mind. She has forgotten about them long ago, this news was way too much of importance than them.

She screamed again and by now most of them are thinking she'd gone insane. Mr Killian looked over to Mr Andrew in apprehension; he was beginning to wonder if she was the one that was standing over there in poise minutes ago.

"I'll be catching the next flight to Naija, I'll be there in 48 hours" with that, she ended the call.

"Miss Muhammad is everything alright?" Mr Andrew asked quizzically as they watched her swiftly pack her belongings.

She ran to where the door was only to stop. Dramatically, she twirled back with a grin on her face, "Ciao amigos. I have a wedding to attend" with that been said, she ran out.

*****

*****

Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates.

A fair skinned lady dressed in a chartreuse blue tiered ruffle hem and sleeves top, palm print white denim covered with a pearl white doctor's coat came out of the surgery. A white turban cap tied firmly around her head. Her round eyes fixated on the family that stood outside waiting. Her ruddy lips stretched into wide grin revealing her 32 set of pearl white teeth. Her slender nose stood scenic right above her lips.

Meet the assertive unvarnished Dr. Ummulkhair Nurayn Endimi.

"Congratulations Mr Zaheer, your wife has safely been delivered of a cute baby girl" she informed the man who eagerly walked to where she stood, his family trailing behind him.

"Alhamdullilah" he chanted, his family embracing one another happily.

She watched them with immense sense of satisfaction and happiness, this is one of the reasons she enjoyed being a doctor. Just seeing that because of a simple statement she uttered could mean this much to them. Ya ilahi can there ever be something more heartwarming?

"Jazakallah, thank you doctor" the old woman who seems to be his mother said to the doctor.

Dr Ummulkhair smiled "You're welcome. You can see her once she's moved to her room" she informed them and they nodded before she dismissed herself to her office.

Just as she entered the confines of her office, her phone pinged as she sat behind her large white mahogany desk. The desk is mostly covered with about 3-4 folders, a stethoscope and beside it is a picture of she and other two girls; they were laughing like they had no care in the world.

She brought it out and commenced on to the messaging app to check the message that just got through. A smile instantly covers up her face once she read the message. "Alhamdullilah" she murmured, she couldn't help but beam widely.

She removed the coat and placed it on the coat hanger, picking up a waistcoat and quickly put it on fixing her turban cap in the process. Next she picked up her phone and clutch then head to the door.

On going out she met one of the matrons coming out of the pediatric department. She smiled seeing Dr. Ummulkhair and made her way over to her holding a white folder in her hand.

"Doctor, are you done for the day? I thought you had a checkup meeting with the Sheikha" she asked seeing Ummulkair all dressed up and heading to the exit.

Ummulkahir smiled politely massaging her temple with her hand, "I have to go somewhere, and the Sheikha can see another doctor; I wasn't the one she intended to see anyway. By the way, cancel all my appointments for the next few weeks, I'd appreciate it" she said before walking away not waiting for the matrons response knowing full well it's going to be an array of excuses and she's not in the mood for that.

Right now, she needed to get back to Nigeria and fast.

_____

New York City, USA.

A guy sat a few feet away from the seashore and as far away from people as possible. This time of the year, Fire Island is packed up with people, mostly tourists. Sunbathers enjoy the beach at Robert Mosses state park, most of the ladies had their bikini on while the guys are in their swimsuits. Children run around playing beach ball, giggling and laughing all the way. Honeymoon couples and other couples walk down the beach with their spouses relishing the moment.

The guy is dressed in a casual grey tee that showed off the outline of his six packs and blue threadbare knee jeans; his curly locks now in a messy state, mostly sticking to his forehead because of the sweat beads. His knuckles are busted and blood is slowly dripping from it. His eyes fixated on the tidal waves.

Meet the ireful Fahad Bashir Ringim.

A blonde with excess fake tan sashayed her way over to where he sat. Her blonde hair dripping wet while her black two piece suit hugs her body indicating that she just came back from swimming.

She runs her slender fingers down his shoulders in an enticing way, "Babe, join me let's swim together" she said with a beam on her face.

He shook his head, lightly shrugging her hand away, "Maybe later. Just not now" he took another gulp of the tequila mixed with vodka in his hand. His eyes are slowly turning red which made her step away from him knowing what's good for her.

"Oh...ok. I'll be in the presidential suite when you're ready" with that she walked away, but he didn't spare her a glance.

Minutes later of being excessively drunk, he put his hand in his pocket and brought out a crumbled paper. He kept the bottle aside and opened the paper to reveal a wedding invitation card. His eyes skim the card, turning bloodshot red by the minute. His put his hand in his front pocket and brought out a lighter, after a few tries, he succeeded in turning it on. He placed it below the card, it slowly caught on fire turning into ashes by the second. He threw it on the floor and watch it burn while he took a huge gulp of the alcohol only to realize it has finished. He threw it away angry and groaned loudly clutching his head in anguish.

"I'll make you pay for this Ammar. I promise" he muttered, his chest heaving rapidly while his eyes sting with unshed tears. "This is your entire damn fucking fault!" he shouted to no one in particular, tears now falling freely on his face. He tugs on the roots of his hair in frustration as he cried out of pain for what fell like hours.

His pain turned to anger.

He reached his hands out, getting pierced over by the broken pieces of glass but he didn't care. He kept scrambling till he found the other bottle of Vodka and took another gulp of it continuously, "I'll get back at you Ammar. Just wait and see"

~*~

Bauchi, Nigeria.

"Ah ah, Hajiya Iya what is happening?" A woman asked coming out of the kitchen only to see her neighbor grinning widely whilst holding a paper in her hand.

Hajiya Iya beamed widely turning to look at Inna, "Wallahi jikar kwata ce za tay aure *It's my friend's grand daughter that's getting married*" she said quickly handing the paper to Inna who collected it after wiping her hand on her wrapper.

"Wa kenan? *Who exactly*" she asked struggling to read what's written. With her level of literacy, it turned out to be hard or rather impossible for her to read what's written in high society English compared to her Malam Idi Primary school English.

"Ina wannan makwaftan mu na da, su Hajiya Talatu Barau da suka koma Sakatoh, ai kin tuna ta ko? * Do you remember our old neighbors, Hajiya Talatu that moved to Sakatoh? You remember them right*" Hajiya Iya asked tying her Zani again, a little more proper now only for her to turn and see her 15 year old granddaughter laughing at her.

"Keh kuma why are you laughing?" she asked glaring at the little girl who stifled her laughter.

"Hajiya Iya it's 'Sokoto' not 'Sakatoh' " she corrected her grandmother only to earn another glare.

"Gidanku! Idan na mauje ki koh *Your house! If I smack you ehen*" the old woman warned removing her slippers in an attempt to throw it at the little girl who finds all this amusing, "Ni zaki gyara?! Tun kafin a haife ki nasan Sako--, Soka--, Sokato. *Is it me you'll correct? Even before you were born I knew Sako...*"

Inna laughed at the duo, they never fail to amuse her, "Yaran yanxu sai haquri Hajiya Iya, ayi hakuri. Yanxu zaki je bikin ne? *Children of nowadays you have to be patient with them. Now, are you going to the wedding?*"

"Ahhh!!!" Yelled Hajiya Iya placing her hand over her torso, "Zuwa is a dole. Now now I will go and pack my kwamutse, dole inje Habuja biki ai. Daman inada canji awajen Musa mai shago. Keh Mintako, go and retrieve my change from Musa mai Shago, naira Hansin ce amma zata ishe ni ai ko?" (Going is a must. Now now I will go and pack my belongings. I must go to Habuja for the wedding. I have change from Musa the vendor. It is 50 naira but it will be enough right?)

"Oh Allah!" Inna said shaking her head. If not Hajiya Iya, who else will thing will think 50 Naira will take him to Abuja.

Mintako being the wicked girl she is creased up, holding her tummy as she laughed her head off at her grandmother's expense. At this point, her grandmother's eyes can fall from glaring at her and she wouldn't care.

Inna placed her hand on Hajiya Iya's shoulder, "Yanxu abunda za'a yi, inada dubu Biyas, zan ranta miki sai ki biya ni duk ran da Allah yayi" (What we're going to do now is that I have 5000 naira. I'll lend it to you then you can pay me any day you're able to)

Hajiya Iya smiled holding Inna's hands, "Nagode Inna, Allah jikan iyaye" (Thank you)

"Amin. Ai ana tare, badamuwa" (Ameen. No problem)

Hajiya Iya smiled before turning to glare at Mintako once again, "Toh shaidaniyar yarinya, ji ki karbo min kayan da nasa a bikin Hamza mai shayi, yana gidan wanki" (Mini devil go and retrieve my clothe that I wire for the wedding of Hamza the tea maker. It's at the laundary)

Mintako nodded after laughing once again at her grandma's choice of words. She knows she doesn't mean anything she said against her so she never finds it offensive.

A few hours later, Hajiya tied the five thousand naira in at the top of her Zani like any other old woman in the olden days. With that, she bid her family farewell and head to Habuja for the wedding two weeks early after promising Mintako to buy her the brown thing they see a akwatin kallo everyday, in other words chocolate they see on TV.

_____

Somewhere in Dass LGA, Bauchi.

"Kam Bala'i!" Exclaimed one of the women sitting in the huge parlor; the living room is filled up with 7 women all seated with the same expression. All the women shook their heads and glare at the cards in their hands, most of them angrily throw it at the other side of the room while some just crumble the card.

"Lalle, is this happening for real? Siddiqah is marrying Zaynul Ammar?" the most annoying one amongst them asked no one in particular earning a dirty look from the one at the helm.

"Keh jaka ce ko me? Can't you see the damn card or is your eyes incoherent that you can't see it. Ko dake your brain itself is malfunctioned, that's why. All this happened because of your foolishness ma" the woman whose whole demeanor screamed power said. Her dressing is not like theirs. But, she dressed to kill. Her carmine blouse and wrappers was sewed into perfection; whoever her seamstress is really deserves applaud. (Are you stupid or what?....then again your brain...)

The annoying woman looked up, "Nikuma? What did I do?" (Me?)

"If you didn't introduce Ammar to Siddiqah, none of this would've happened" Another woman sitting opposite she said hissing loudly.

The whole clique of women started arguing and ganging up against the most annoying one amongst them, and her being the stupid one she is kept picking up fights with them unknown to them Ammar and Siddiqah's history went far before that. Their chatters filled up the room, so much that they were gaining attention from the people outside.

"Enough!!" Yelled the woman at the helm; they all kept quiet. "I have so many things to handle and keh Rabiatu your stupidity won't add to it. Kinsan hali na, zan gyara miki zama wallahi" she said to the annoying woman whose name is Rabiatu.

Rabiatu looked down, hissing lightly, "Allah hutaci ranki Hajiya" she muttered not really meaning it but she had to say it if she wants to stay with them.

"Yanxu what are we going to do? We can't let them get married, it'll ruin our plans" one of the women pointed out.

"Our plans are already ruined" said the woman sitting next to Hajiya; seemingly her right hand.

Hajiya looked at them, she felt like screaming at them for mentioning the things they all already know so why mention it again. They all need to shut up while she thinks of a plan. But these fish headed women won't take up a small hint.

"We should just let them be. We can't ruin the kid's wedding; we have no beef against them" the sensible one amongst them reasoned.

They all hissed loudly turning their heads away from her. "Toh muslimatun qanitatun taiibat. Kinga, if you're not onboard with our plan, use the door"

"I was just saying what I think is right"

"Look at us all, do you think we give a damn about what you think is right?" the one next to Hajiya asked glower.

"SHUT UP!!" Hajiya shouted once again, "All of you get ready, pack your bags and boxes because we are going to Abuja for that wedding, I don't want to hear any more of your endless rants. We have a wedding to crash"

++++*++++

Beirut, Lebanon.

A guy pulled out the cup filled with caffé latte from the coffee machine. He placed it on a small salver where another cup of cappuccino is kept. He took the salver and head to the balcony where a table is set, and another guy sat on one of the chairs, his gaze settled on the busy street.

The guy with the salver is tan with a height of 6'4. His neat Hausa man hair trimmed into perfection and so is his sideburns and subtle stubble. His eyes were ebony black, and his nose was slender complimenting his lips and skin. He has on a blue tee and slate sweats.

Meet the compassionate introverted Junaid Sadiq Shagari.

"You ought to stop thinking so much you know" he said to his friend placing the salver on the oak wood table. The four Adirondack chairs surrounding the table were also made of dark oak wood and designed in a simple design yet so appealing. The view it gave out was what one needed to clear his thoughts; it was peaceful up here, no wonder Junaid liked this apartment.

His friend sighed reaching out his hand to pick the cappuccino, "You have no idea" he muttered shaking his head slightly. The mug is warm; and it warms his palm which was somewhat soothing to him right now. He took a sip of it and somehow it helped him relax.

"No I do get it, you're stressed out about the wedding that's all" Junaid shrugged taking a seat next to his friend. He picked up the caffe latte and held it in his hand before bringing it up to his lips and slowly took a sip of it.

His friend is about the same height as him with light skin. His hair is as soft as silk and his eyes were mesmerizingly dark. The hair falls on his face covering his forehead and eye brows; he looked so young at the moment. He was dressed in his signature white tee and matching jeans. He was always either dressed in white or black and he pulls it off better than anyone; no wonder ladies fall for him easily. The way he smiles and his prominent dimples shows out is just Masha Allah!

Meet the nifty charismatic Zaynul Ammar Bulama.

"I thought you love her right or don't you love her?" Junaid asked again when Ammar didn't reply his other question.

Ammar flicked his head right at that instant and shakes it, "No! Hell no. I love her so much; more than life itself. She's the one, I just know it and I'm willing to spent the rest of my life with her till we're old and aged, toothless as we watch our descendants and smile knowing we made it that long"

"Then what are you worrying about?" Junaid asked not really understanding why Ammar is acting like this. He loves her, she loves him, they're getting married, and so what is the problem?

Ammar kept the mug aside and put his face in his palm, "I'm worried something might go wrong. Ya Allah! if I don't get to marry Siddiqah, only Allah knows what's going to happen to me. Subhan Allah I don't even want to think of such" he silently groan running his slender fingers in his hair.

"Stop worrying, nothing's going to happen. It's just going to be a typical Naija wedding"

"A typical Naija wedding?" Ammar replied looking at Junaid as if he just said something stupid. "Junaid in a typical Naija wedding there's always drama. And this, it's a wedding between the Bulama and the Barau family, nevertheless an Arewa Naija wedding. It's literally a recipe for disaster!"

Junaid shook his head thinking that Ammar is just exaggerating, "You'll get through it stress and drama-free"

"That's not possible I'm telling you, let's just hope it won't be as bad as I'm thinking or so help me, I'll end up eloping with her"

"You can't be serious!" Junaid deadpanned stopping himself midway just as he is about to take a sip again. But, the look on Ammar's face proved he's far from larking. He's dead serious. "Let's hope it doesn't get to that" Junaid said fearing that if he said anything more, he'll give his friend another crazy idea more than the one he has.

"Yeah, let's hope so" He took his mug again and took another sip; the drink is just what his taste buds needed at the moment.

"Are you sure you're ready though?" Junaid asked for the last time, mostly because he wanted Ammar to confirm it himself that this is what he wants.

"Ready as I'll ever be"

________

***^+++^+++*+++^+++*+++^***

First chapter up!

What do you think?

22 Dec. 2019.

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Love, Jannah.