It was natural for the mahogany-skinned man in a kaftan, seated nonchalantly on the recliner to defile any form of sanctity Sadiq and his siblings find.

With no choice but to pay heed, Sadiq dropped his sisters at their mother's place and begrudgingly drove to the mansion he had a heritage in but never considered home, kneeling on edge. Long silence enveloped the fruity-scented room, the interiors framed in leather black, mirroring the man's heart, after Sadiq's low greetings.

"Kana zuwa makarantar ko kuma?" The man, Abi, asked with his spectacled eyes roaming the book he was holding.

"Yes."

"Your sisters?"

"Basma is about to join bells University. Fadila just started her externals," Sadiq said, wiping the dirty screen of his phone on his jean.

"She will not join bells. She should apply for Skyline."

Sadiq had opened his mouth to protest; the girl loved that uni with all her heart and he couldn't bring himself to be the beast to break the news to her but was instead cut off by his man's vicious eyes landing on him, burning him. An equally callous voice, "Bakwa jin tausayi na. I had to call or else you wouldn't have come to see your father that has just been released from custody? What kind of children are you? Why are Basma and Fadila not here? Where is Jamila?"

The questions came out string after string. Sadiq resisted the efficacious urge to scoff, dragging his head lower instead and fixing his keen on his clasped phone.

"Ina magana kana sa kai a qasa kamar munafuki?"

"Kayi Haquri," Sadiq apologized, raising his head only for his father to harshly close off his book, sitting upright.

"Shine kuma kake kallon tsabar ido na don bakada kunya?"

Again, Sadiq was tugged between the man's indecisiveness. Everything done was wrong to Abi-one of many reasons his children deserted him.

"Your brothers are busy," Sadiq knew they weren't, he was more efficient than them and his father knew, "My container was seized months back and none of you thought to go and get it checked?"

Heart picking up, he almost bounced from his position as his eyes rose to his livid father. "My container was seized months back too, I went there and they were demanding—"

"Qarya ne!" Abi bellowed, angling a firm finger at Sadiq who dropped his head, "Ni zaka mayar yaro? My container was seized, not yours, and you better find a way to get it back since it was you I left the responsibility to," his voice dialed down and he flicked a hand, "Tashi kaban wuri."

It made no sense hassling or appealing to the man, he was not a judge without reason. Rather than another round of insults, Sadiq rose his aching body. The need to flee from the environment surged each second until Sadiq was out of the swanky, mountainous parking lot of his fathers illegal property, built with prosecutable funds.

Abi, Justice Ali Ibrahim Abdullahi was a Hausa man from Kano closing in on his early sixties. It was ironic that the 'Justice' that came before his name was the total opposite of what his life embodied. The man was infinitely notorious for his intentment on many forms of corruption in the courthouse; extortion, bribing, blackmail, and sending innocent people to their early graves or unjust penalization.

Not only was he loaded, but he also had every felon, nefarious political officeholder, and civil servant on his side.

A judge who made his way to the top through his sharp and resources schemes, all the while covering his tracks was the reason why there was never a prosecutor smart enough to hand him to a court. The only advances they could manage was to silence him for a few months by keeping him under custody as they scout his accounts, books, and life to the same end game; nothing. Bringing the inevitable cause of his release like he was released a week ago. Soon, he returned to the lives of his family who were happier while he was in custody and tempestuously await the next case he was assigned to.

The father of eleven had a wife in Kano. Sadiq's mother, Umma had fought out of the man's clutches sixteen years ago and he had let her go with his three children who later became four as he had divorced her when she was tenderly pregnant with Fadila.

Abi, the rancorous man eleven people were foredoomed to carry his last name regarded himself as a hero. He planned to leave a humongous amount of legacy for his successors who would sustain and promote his legacy further.

His successors on the other hand wanted nothing to do with his outlawed lap of luxury, scattering around the country. Although most lived between Abuja and Kano, including Sadiq's mother who had a stable business in both states, they avoided each other like the plague.

With Abi back, it meant his fruitless plan to use his harsh methods at bringing the family together was reestablished; starting with in-dignifying Sadiq and desisting Basma's dream university plan.

Sadiq sighed, turning off the gas.

A lengthy shower was not what he needed but his mind repelled, gluing his feet to the surface of the tub as the warm flow of water drizzled down his body while his mind threatened to burst.

Picture perfect family; dysfunctional family.

Rich families; illegally acquired fortunes.

The topics infiltrated his head with fear, shame, and pity.

Fear, that Abi would never change, destroying many opportunities that they would be deprived of because of the last name they carried. Not to talk of the incalculable enemies he had hatched and would leave them to worry about.

Shame-why he never talked about his father and used Abubakar Sadiq Ali, instead of Abubakar Ali Ibrahim. He couldn't bear the periodic admonition that the rogue culpable for so many transgressions was his father.

And pity, knowing what his father's final abode was if he died on the path he so incessantly believed was the right path.

***

Amani wished she could skip forward. At least five years-to the good parts. The part where she and her family were happy and out of her father and his relative's clutches. She wanted a simple, Daddy-free future for herself, her siblings, and their mother. All she looked forward to was sanctity and triumph. Why did they have to go through;

"Kuna de zuwa islamiyya ai ko?"

Amani squeezed Nadeen's hands when the girl attempted to rise, hinting at an outburst, and instead took the liberty,  "Nadeen and Walid go, I am occupied with my shop and school and I recently joined a photography family but yes."

"Aw toh, we know your mother never went so we are entitled to ask." Daddy's younger and nosy sister added after her mother's question, Amani's grandmother.

Amani and Nadeen glanced at their mother kneeling with her head hung low, sucking the indirect ridicule against her. Mommy received the taunts but it was Nadeen raging and Amani hurting. Disbelief settled at the pits of their stomach and their heart rate surged. Twenty years later and these people hadn't changed.

"We are trying, Goggo," Nadeen said. She talked back as long as it came to their mother. She turned a ridicule eye at her aunt, "My mother not attending one does not mean we are not. What of your son that is doing drugs? Did he not go to islamiyya too?"

"Ni kike gayawa haka?" Goggo exclaimed, framing up. She turned to the teenager, "Ni-heii—" The woman's attempt at slapping Nadeen was cut halfway, Amani's hand catching her lower arm before dragging it down.

"Nadeen is sick." She snarled, eyes narrowed, and lips straight. Goggo snatched her hand out of Amani's grip, yelling.

"Kingani ai Umma! You should've never let him marry this ahl al kitab, he -"

"My mother is not an ahl al kitab,"

"Don't ever call her that,"

Amani started and Nadeen added, both ready to lunge at the woman only for their mother's hands to drag them down by their shoulders.

"Kingani ko?" Goggo lunged for Nadeen only for Mommy to step forward on her knees, blocking the woman from her vulnerable daughters.

"Sorry, they are sorry." Mommy apologized, pinching Nadeen and Amani in sync with the old woman's voice.

"Eey, that's all you can say after teaching them your manners."

Mommy dropped her head after dragging Amani back from the fierce staring contest with her aunt. "Apologize." The mother whispered, voice wobbling and Amani rushed to her, draping an arm on her shoulder and groaning a sorry before helping her mother up.

Nadeen had more to say before she joined her family in fleeing the scene. "I am sorry that Allah has cursed you with inhumane children." Knowing full well she hoped her grandmother, her father, and her aunt went to the deepest pits of hell.

The girls had gotten away after Mommy's scolds until the news had gotten to their father who banged the door into Mommy's side of the house a few hours before they left for Bauchi. Oblivious to the presence of his kids in the lounge, he disappeared into the woman's room and left after a momentary hassle and the sound of skin clashing with skin.

Amani jumped from the circle of monopoly game, Akram, Nadeen, and Walid had formed straight to her mother's room to find the woman in a robe with her hand frozen to her bruising cheek. Tears pooled her vision and dropped when Nadeen whimpered from behind Amani, reaching for her mother who lifted her free hand to stop her. Amani reached forward only for Mommy to put the same hand out to her, warning her, Walid, Akram, and even Nadeen to stay away.

"Go." Mommy croaked, staying strong for them.

"Mommy." Amani cried, her shoulders beginning to shake, her arms dropping to her side.

"Get out!" Mommy bellowed. The act was so sudden and surreal that it sucked a flinch off Nadeen and Walid. Akram was fleeting to the rescue, pulling Walid to his body and dragging the kid away while Nadeen and Amani's widened, glossy eyes remained on their mother.

"Go. I don't want to see you!" Mommy's cry was meant to be a scream but her emotions clouded her affection for her kids. She wobbled to Nadeen, grabbing the physically hefty but trembling girl, and reached for Amani who covered her face. She pushed them out and shattered the door close; shattering their already bleeding hearts.

It was hard explaining what Amani felt.

Pain, hurt, defeat. They wouldn't cut it.

It was even harder to take in Nadeen's sobbing and slumped figure, or Walid's vibrating head against Akram's chest.

"Does he do this to Mama too?" Amani asked. Her question went eerily unanswered until Akram slowly nodded, whispering;

"He stopped years back."

The tears in her eyes spilled. She didn't know at first but the bruise in her heart spread like an infectious disease waiting for the slight wither of her immune system. It spread to her body, her soul- the part of her heart that was considering paying heed and giving love a chance.

Mommy told Amani love was worth it. Daddy showed her that love was not. Love graduates to hatred and abuse. Always leaving bruises on your lover's body and soul.

How was this love? How could love feel like poison in her veins? How could it ravage every cell in her body? Like she couldn't breathe, like she was drowning. Why did Mommy and Daddy work hand in hand on showing so much hurt to her and her siblings? It ripped their hearts out every time, they could not bear it much longer. While their parents continued to pour salt on their daily inflicted wounds. 

If this was what love entitled, Amani vowed to change its deranged terminology. She needed to find herself and learn to love-not this deranged version of it.

***

The scorching hot sun of Abuja simmered out droplets of sweat on Sadiq's forehead. He stumbled a few times while dragging his bag from his futile trip to Katsina. His blurred vision courtesy of his abysmal hunger and defeat formed a labyrinth of dilemmas in his head.

His phone rang and without checking the ID, he knew who it was. He pressed the phone to his ear and a livid voice penetrated his eardrums.

"You're telling me you couldn't revive my container?"

"Yes, Abi. They are demanding a questionable amount to pay for the alleged forged custom duty stamp and I think they're frauds. It's not-"

"I don't care, Sadiq! Kai wawa ne. It's all your fault, you shouldn't have -"

Was it the sun or the hunger or the feeling of being a failure-but Sadiq had to clarify. "They seized my container too. Abi, I won't do this carelessly." He didn't get why the man was obsessing over treasures he had double laying carelessly in his account. Even he, an amateur business owner had enough tawakkul to let his container undergo all the due procedures. "I have exams-"

"I don't care. Don't you dare step foot back in Abuja until you have revived my container." The line went off.

Sadiq halted at the airport's sardined lot, sucking a harsh breath in and swiping his keen across the standard, available Taxicabs. His body repelled against any activity apart from taking a shower and catching up with his stomach.

That changed once he noticed a familiar plump figure, layered with soft, smooth, and alluring amber skin that glowed under the sun. It made no sense how he was drawn to cross to her once she shoved her phone into her Ankara pocket; an outfit he had never seen her in but was enthralled in doing now.

He trailed her, taking note of Akram from the other end of the lot who slipped into a black Prado that furiously drove off while Amani headed in search of a rental cab. He picked up the pace. Why was she boarding a commercial when her brother just left in a private one?

"Nanu," He called out a few feet from her, halting and clutching his troll bag and she did the same, glancing back.

Sadiq was not prepared for the sight. The once clear-skinned Amani he knew had puffy eyes that she was quick to drop and dark eye bags, returning the shades she had removed to wipe the moisture off her face. Her lips that signature themselves with gloss were dry and her nose was marginally pink.

"Hasbunallah, what is wrong with you?"

The question fueled Amani, she turned around, hastily walked into the next car she approached, and instructed the driver to not worry that her bag was in the passenger seat with her.

Contrastively, Sadiq did not get the message. He wanted to be with Amani, to be there for her. So he jumped into the next car that trailed Amani straight to MVP. He hastily paid the driver off and almost forgot his bag in fear of Amani shutting the door on him. He left the bag where the driver dropped it, sprinting up the stairs of her porch and watching her halt her vigorous attempt at yanking her key out.

She threw her head back, shaking it. He didn't get it, did he?

Amani swiveled to him, arms slacking to the side, and facial features down.

"I am sorry if I'm coming off as clingy, I can not stand letting you leave after seeing you like this." Sadiq breathed at once, tucking his shades into his Kaftan pocket and letting his walls down. His pink eyes met her shielded glossed ones.

"You don't have to. I have no feelings, I am sorry." The words from her heart headed to her lips, bashing Sadiq's equally bruised heart but he didn't back down. This was what he was born to do; pursue priorities; pursue Amani.

His internal pep talk ended at the sound of her clicking the lock off. He zoomed out of his visionless stare and crossed to her, dropping a firm hand against the door she moved to slam against his face. "What can I do to help?"

"Stop following me," was her first yell, sadness, and anger morphing her into trembles. She dropped her heavy arms. Then thrashed them before she fought against a wobbly voice, "I can't take what you're offering, Sadiq. I can not," she spread her palm, "I can not love you. I do not know how to. You will hurt me and leave me and send me back to square one..."

Sadiq stared at her with wide eyes, her once-composed figure was trembling and it took fighting every cell in his body not to pull her into him.

"I didn't say anything, Amani." He said, dragging his feet further and raising his hands to her face. Her inability to flinch or move back; her immense exhaustion towards life, translated to Sadiq's go-ahead and he pulled the shades off her face. As if the tears gathered in her eyes were given the green light, they dropped straight to Sadiq's hand.

"I need to find me first," she bounced on her legs, fisting her fingers in cope to the waves of emotions rattling her, de-oxygenizing her, killing her.

Sadiq's warm hands found home on Amani's scorching and wet cheeks, raking his eyes over her puffy and runny face. So many words to put it and all he could term it was; A lifetime. A lifetime was what he saw and he nodded. Asking, begging, craving. "Let me be with you every step of your journey then." He squeezed her cheeks, seeking any form of positive signal. "I won't overstep my boundaries, I promise."

Amani endorsed his desire by releasing her walls, watching them crash as she jumped over and ran into Sadiq's arms, letting out a brutal cry and holding on as if it was her last breath.

Emotions deformed, altered, and modified from acceptance, to understanding and slowly...