For naeemaemoo, aphrodiey,Reine_Gh, and hypabole. Guys check out his book Spine, u wnt regret it.

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From putting together an impressive ensemble, to cooking a decent meal, down to her palate becoming more accommodating to taste that were previously overwhelming, Biba had gradually eased into the big city lifestyle.

She had grown closer to Anwar's dad, even Kamal who seem to be occupied with his teenage demons has warmed up to her. Hajja remained indifferent and Hanny was still at her terrible best.

Coming to terms with her situation in regards to her marriage had been easy breezy for her. She could write a whole book on being a persona non grata in a blink; it was, and will always be her life story right from when she could tell her left from right.

The past eight months had been draining, both physically and emotionally, but it had been rewarding as well.

Nestled deep within the new Biba, is the old one who still wakes up before everyone at the break of dawn and wouldn't go back to sleep afterwards, who is still mesmerised by anything that shines, who is still overwhelmed by technicalities of some things, and also the same girl who got lost by some common phrases often used by people around her.

Among the few hobbies she picked up was watching Nat Geo Wild or Viasat life in her free time.

Thursdays was easily one of her favorite days because that is when she gets to spend hours on the phone with her grandmother. She patiently waits until noon when she was sure Nini is at the village market where she could get some network reception to call her.

She kept her updated on all her activities. Whatever she sees or learns, Nini would hear of it every market day, most of the informations are confusing that she wouldn't be able to recant them even at gun point, but it was always a pleasure to hear the excitement in her voice when she shared the stories. What worried her the most was Anwar doesn't seem to be part of the story, he was non-existent.

Every market day, as she sat underneath the mango tree where the fulani women sell their nono and fura, and listened to her granddaughter on the other end tell her about almost everything and everyone in the house, Anwar was conspicuously absent. It's like he was not part of her Biba's life. She however draws consolation from the fact that Biba is happy and hopefully, things will sort themselves out in the future.

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Biba sat by the edge of the bed trying too hard not to stare at Anwar who was sprawled comfortably half dressed on the bed. In his hand is The Imperial museum of war book by Malcolm brown, he seemed so engrossed in it that one is forced to doubt if he had any idea at all that she was sitting by the edge of that same bed.

She adjusted the thin veil on her cowl neck Burgundy chiffon dress, the skin around her neck felt damp despite the airconditioning. She knew they will remain that way if she didn't make a move.

"You know this is not what is expected of us right?" She asked.

The only indication that he heard her is that he stirred, propped one arm underneath his head, and continued reading his book.

"It's getting late, can we please just get on with it?" She begged.

"You seriously didn't think I was going to go ahead with this, did you?" He laughed, except the laughter was dry and devoid of any emotion. It felt like he was reading it straight off the book because his eyes was still glued to it.

"But your dad, he said we should..."

"My dad says what he wants to say, and I...do what I want to do." He interrupted.

"But it is your duty!" She looked down, "Because you are my husband."

She said the last part so softly she was sure he missed it.

"Your what? Seriously, how old are you?" He sat up, putting his book face down on the bed. The way he narrowed his eyes made her shift a bit uncomfortably.

"Almost eighteen."

"Which makes you seventeen, right?"

"I will be eighteen in two months." She protested.

"Two months is a long way, and eighteen doesn't make you old enough to call yourself my wife. I am old enough to be your...your...whatever, just leave me alone.

"But it's not going to take long, we will be done before you know it." She protested.

He ignored her and went back to the pretence of being engrossed in his book of war.

Her eyes darted to the small Casio clock on the nightstand, it's exactly seventeen minutes since she came to his room but it felt like hours.

Of all the things she thought he would refuse her, this was definitely not one of them. She knew how much she needed it, so she decided to give it another shot before she retired to her room.

"I have never beg something of you, but please I need this...I will forever be indebted to you, I will make myself invisible by whatever magic I could conjure to get out of your way, but only if you do this." She tugged at the helm of her veil, swallowed and continued her plea.

"It...it doesn't have to take long, we can take it one step at a time, maybe every other day...I am a fast learner, you won't be disappointed, I promise." She pleaded.

It took another twelve minutes without either of them saying a word except for the sound of paper against paper when he flipped the pages of his book.

"Time's up...get out."

She was flabbergasted, true to his word, they had spent exactly thirty minutes. The same amount of time he had volunteered when he was asked by his dad to tutor her. She clutched the laptop along with the notepad she was carrying and without another word left the room.

He sighed and got up to shut the door after she had left. He hated when people leave his room without closing the door behind them, and she did just that.

All else was still except for the sound of her sobs. It was the first time since she had arrived that she cried. Most times she came close to tears, she brush them off and told herself she was strong. But there is just so much she could take.

Two days ago, her excitement knew no bounds when she held her admission letter. Alhaji Baffah had smiled as she twirled excitedly after she received the letter.

He had personally drove her to Baze university. On getting back home, he gave her a wrapped package. He smiled as she carefully unwrapped it revealing a macbook pro. She ran her hand across its smooth surface.

"Thank you baba." She said as her eyes went back to the laptop with a worried look.

"You are most welcome my daughter."

Sensing her skepticism, he moved closer and told her not to worry. He assured her she will have no problem at all because Anwar is good with computers and will help her with it. He told her learning it before her classes starts will save her a lot of headache.

As if on cue, Anwar walked in holding a paper bag from exquisite perfumes. He greeted his dad and answered Biba's greeting cheerfully.

"We were talking about you just now. You are aware Habiba is starting school soon ko?"

"Yes, I am."

"Good, she got her admission letter this afternoon and we were discussing how helpful it will be if you could coach her a little and show her how to use a computer."

"Congratulations." He said and handed her the paper bag, "this is for you."

"Thanks." She said as she carefully laid the bag beside her.

Biba had gotten used to the way he acts towards her around his father, at times he keeps up the act even in the presence of his mother who cared less on how he treated his wife.

On the same pace, without losing a single smile muscle, he had suggested thirty minutes of coaching her every evening.

Alhaji Baffah felt his chest swell with pride at his son's benevolence. He laid a hand on his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze before he left. Even without him saying it out loud, Anwar knew he had won the old man over...again.

The amount of acting he does in the presence of his dad is laudable and definitely Oscar worthy.

Immediately she was sure Alhaji Baffah was gone, she took the paper bag,

"I believe this is yours, here." She gave him back the bag and concentrated on packing her stuff.

"Smart girl." He smiled and collected the bag which contained two Boss the scent, by Hugo boss in it. Who would have thought the anniversary gift Alaa had given him will be such a life saver.

Anwar

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Idi returned the hose after he was done washing the cars, he took the bucket containing the cleaning liquid and sponge and kept them behind the generator house. He approached the gate man whose name is Usman but whom everybody called Mani.

He is a year older than the gate man, which is hard to tell because he is of a bigger built compared to the smaller looking Mani, and looked somewhat older than his actual age. Both are in their late twenties.

Mani was seated on one of the plastic chairs by his room, behind him is a green plastic food flask which Atika had dropped earlier for Idi. As he approached, he whipped a handkerchief from his pocket and dried his hands.

"Idi likitan mota! (Idi the car doctor!)"

"You can say that again." He answered.

It had become a daily ritual for them whenever Idi is done washing the cars. He sat down and asked Mani to pass him the flask which he opened and descended on its content like a hungry lion.

"Wow! See enjoyment, three big meats like this, you might as well be the owner of the house." Mani's eyes bulged as he craned his neck further to have a closer look at the food.

Idi just grunted and continued eating.

"How do you get her not to serve you the sorry excuse of a meat I always get?" He said, swallowing his saliva as he watched Idi take a bite off a big chicken thigh.

His question was met with another grunt. He waited patiently as Idi noisily chewed on the flesh, crushed the bone, and expertly sucked out the marrow.

When he was done eating, he drank a cupful of water and lighted a cigarette. He took a long drag and held the soothing smoke in before expelling it. His eyes followed the smoke trail until it disappeared.

"The game is simple my man...simple." He tapped on Mani's shoulder before taking another drag.

"Teach me guru, I am at your mercy...anything for those meats wallahi." Mani said dramatically with folded hands.

"This is nothing compared to where I used to work, I even had my own personal jug for zobo and all sort of drinks." He nodded for emphasis.

" kai malam! Why then did you leave such enjoyment?"

"A hypocrite among the servants snitched and we were caught...the rest is history."

"Wow! How do you do it?" He asked eagerly.

"It is simple, get the girl who is in charge of cooking, and tell her you love her." His glassy eyes followed the smoke trail again.

"That's it?" He almost found it hard to believe.

"Yes, as simple as that. It doesn't have to be real, you know those girls are naive and starved for love, they will fall for anything. I tell you."

"Shege mutumina, so that's the move you pulled...but that Atika is not fine at all o, if it is Uwani ehen, that I understand."

"Is it the face that you eat or the food?"

"Good point."

While Mani pondered on this new found knowledge, Idi finished his cigarette and crushed the butt with his shoe. He stared into space with a lot on his mind.

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Hey guys, it's been a while and I missed reading ur comment and all. A lots been happening lately.

I will try and develop a healthier writing habit InshaAllah

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