1758 - wordcount

It's a beautiful Sunday morning, the sun is shining, and I can hear birds chirping outside my window. Although it's sunny here in Katsina, I absolutely love the vibe. Earlier this morning, Mammy told me that we'd be going to visit my grandparents. I just nodded and went back to my room to get comfortable.

I'm currently just chilling, listening to music, and scrolling through Instagram, my usual Sunday routine. Right now, I'm vibing to "Hold On" by Chord Overstreet, as I mindlessly scroll through my feed. On the other line, I'm talking to Muhammad.

"But seriously Layla, have you seen her?" he says, clearly annoyed. He's telling me about this girl he bumped into yesterday, his ex—yeah, the one he dumped because she cheated on him.

"Bak, you have a wife already," I tease, referring to me.

"You, right?" he asks.

"No, the ex," I laugh. "She wants to reunite."

He groans. "Stop this."

"Why are you whining like a baby?" I chuckle.

"Because you're making me too," he says.

We talk for a while, and after about an hour, I figure it's time to get ready since it's Asr time. I perform wudu and pray, then pick out my black abaya with white stones, which I got from the 'Vintage Violet' collection by Hindu. I get dressed, pack my things, and head downstairs.

"Mammy, I'm ready!" I shout from the corridor.

I walk into the living room where Daddy and Uncle Najib (Dad's younger brother) are watching the news. I greet them both before heading to Anne's room.

"Anne, ben hazırım hadi gidelim," I say, "I'm ready, let's go."

"Norah hazır mı?" she asks, "Is Norah ready?"

"Bilmem ki, ben bir bakayım," I respond, "I don't know, let me check."

I walk to Norah's room and knock on the door. "Norah! Neden bizi bekletiyorsun?" I ask, "Why do you keep us waiting?"

"Sorry, Abla, oof, sabır lütfen!" she says, rolling her eyes.

I shake my head and leave her room. A few minutes later, everyone's ready, and we head out to my grandparents' house in GRA, not too far from where we live. We arrive, honk the horn, and the gateman opens the gate for us. We enter and head straight to Goggo's side of the house (Dad's mother).

"Salamu Alaikum," we greet as we enter the living room.

"Wa alaikum salam," Goggo replies.

We enter, and Mammy greets her, "Ina wuni," to which Goggo responds. Norah and I greet her, too.

"Hajiya Goggo, Ina wuni," we say.

We call her Hajiya Goggo because that's how Ya Meena used to address her when she was younger, and it stuck with us all. Mammy and Goggo start chatting about something while Norah and I scroll on our phones, mostly ignoring the conversation.

Mammy tells us to go greet everyone else in the house, so we get up and go to Hajiya's side (our step-grandmother). We make our way through the house, greeting everyone. They all tease me about getting married in less than two months, and all I can do is smile and blush.

Once we're back home, we gather in the living room. Daddy is at the Emir's palace, so it's just Mammy, Ya Meena, Norah, and me. They're talking about my wedding while Norah discusses her upcoming graduation, which is just two months away—right after the wedding.

"Have you decided what to wear yet?" Ya Meena asks.

"I looked through your friend's page on Instagram and saw some beautiful places and asooke," I responded, still scrolling.

"I'll talk to you later so we can decide on something," she says.

"Okay, then. What about the fashion designer?" she asks.

"I thought we said Kathy Anthony and Hudayya?" I remind her.

"Oh, you're okay with that? İyi o vakit," Ya Meena says.

We continue chatting, but she excuses herself when baby Nasreen starts crying. I stand up and head to my room, then dial Ibty's number. She picks up right away.

"Sup babes?" she greets.

"Selam kız," I respond.

"How's Kt?" she asks, and I tell her all about my time in Katsina. I also mention how Mukhtar is changing for the worse, and we talk a little about that before ending the call.

I head to the kitchen for a snack and see Norah about to cook noodles.

"Dan Allah zan chi," I pout, asking if I can have some too.

"Oof Layloş. Wallah, I didn't budget for you," she says, cutting sausages.

"Nolur," I beg, and after much pleading, she finally agrees.

"Fine!" she sighs.

"Love you too, bye!" I tease as I head back to my room.

When I walk into my room, I see my other phone ringing. Who's calling at this hour? I think as I pick it up. It's 'Mr. Moh,' so I answer with a smile.

"Hello?"

"Hey Hafsatu," he greets.

"Don't call me that," I say, annoyed, "If not, I'm going to bed now."

"Sorry, baby. I promise I won't call you that again," he says, and I smile as if he can see me.

"So what did you do today?" he asks.

I tell him about my day, and he shares how hectic his was—meetings all day, and now he's home, tired, wishing for a massage.

"You know Ni'imah won't massage you, right?" I scoff.

"Oh really? I'm her big brother; she'll do as I say," he smirks.

"Toh Sannu big bro, and I'm her friend, so she'll do as I say too," I tease back.

We argue for about five minutes before he says he's going to bed.

"Okay, goodnight," I say.

"Goodnight, baby," he replies, and we end the call. Just in time, Norah walks in with my noodles!

"Sağol canım, you're the best," I say with a wink.

"Whatever," she mutters, but I can tell she's happy. I sit down with her and dig in.

"What are you planning to wear for your graduation?" I ask.

"Ummm, black wide-leg pants with a silk white blouse," she says without looking up from her phone.

"Yeah, that'll work," I agree.

We chat for a while before Norah heads to bed.

*****

It's been weeks since we got back from Katsina, and my wedding is just a month away. Ya Meena came to stay with us last week, and now she's making me do everything from food tastings to meeting with event planners. I'm exhausted.

"Ya Meena, I'm tired, Wallah. Can we leave the rest until tomorrow?" I whine.

"Okay, but let's go to Hudayya first and give her the lace," she insists.

I nod, already tired, and keep playing with Nasreen. Norah's busy with her NECO exams. Ya Muhammad went to Lagos yesterday, and Nabeel's gone somewhere else...

We pull up to Hudayya's shop on Kampala street and head inside. After the usual greetings, I sit down, exhausted.

"I'm knackered, Wallah," I sigh.

"I'm hungry," I complain.

"Don't worry, she's coming," Ya Meena reassures me.

A few minutes later, Hudayya arrives, hugs us, and takes Nasreen. She's been friends with Ya Meena since secondary school, and they're still close.

"Layla Amarya, how are you?" she asks.

"Fine, Alhamdulillah, Ya Huda," I responded with a smile.

While they chat, my phone rings. It's Ni'imah.

"Hey Ni'imah," I answered.

"Hey, canim, you sound tired," she says.

"Wallah, I am," I reply, telling her I'm at the fashion designer's place. We chat a bit more, and she says she'll come over tomorrow.

After everything's done at Hudayya's, we head back home at 6:40 pm. I'm exhausted and hungry. After praying Maghrib, I sat down to eat a delicious Turkish dish Mammy made. I devour it and then take my plate to the kitchen before heading to my room to take a shower.

I slip into my cute onesies, climb into bed, and call Ni'imah. We talk for a long time before I finally pass out from exhaustion.

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