Chapter 30 already??? Damn we might have only twenty more to go🫢😐

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Love love love my little fam here! You all are the absolute best! Allah bar min ku🥹

SA'ADATU'S POV.

KANO, NIGERIA.

There is something about the blessed day of Eid.

Deep down, elation emanates from one, sprouting as the spirit of the day blooms into joy, and the very anticipation starts from the moment the moon has been sighted and the very preparations for the blessed day begins. One thing in my home that always manages to increase the anticipation is the preparation for hawan daushe the night before.

You see, Yaaya is a part of the emirate council, technically, a hakimi with his own designated land which he governs. As such, every year, he participates in the durbur as well. The night before eid, a couple of horses are brought to our house, and their long planned preparations for the durbur the next day begins.

When I was younger, along with Yaya Maryam and my step siblings, we always threw a fit till Yaaya takes us with him to the palace, where the ceremonious gunshots take place, signifying the moon has been sighted. You will think hearing countless gunshots as a kid would be scary but honestly, that is the best part.

Not to mention the algaita and garaya that follows afterwards. Heaven on earth I tell you—the very best part of Eid and what brings back the spirits even more. However, as we got older, he stopped taking us along—and I would be lying if I say I do miss that part.

With the best part missing though, at one point, when you grow up into that, the excitement tends to diminish—not that it disappears, but the excitement just does not hit the same as before. At least, that was what I thought until I got married, and hence, did not spend eid that year with my family—making me miss the tradition as a whole. In the past year, I was too caught up in my dark abyss that I genuinely did not care less about eid, so once again, I missed another year.

Now though, this year feels especially different. For one, I get to spend eid in my house once again, something I did not think was remotely possible once again and I have freed myself from that dark path I had taken.

I had decided to fully enjoy the blessings life has offered me, and embrace the spirit of eid once again. I had prepared thoroughly for this eid, wanting the same excitement before, and to have my baby sister, Humaira enjoy the same feeling as well. So, two days to eid, I took her to the saloon where we washed our hair, and then got it braided, and the next day, we got the henna artist to come home so we could get our henna—the traditional kitson sallah da lallen sallah.

Is it even eid without getting your hair and henna done?

Besides, I had fun spending the days with my younger sister—it forms as a bonding moment for us, and I could tell the spirits of eid within her has taken root as well. As the announcement for the moon being sighted came, I tasked her with aiding me decorate the house for eid, though her help was pretty much ranting my ears off but still.

To round the night up, we ended up having a sleepover and cartoon movie night. The next day, we woke up early, then rushed to prepare to get ready to head out for sallan idi. As I was picking out my chosen abaya for day, my gaze fell on the box of abaya Faiza got for me—the two other untouched abayas seated there, calling out to be chosen.

I ignored them, and instead pulled out the matching black abaya I got with Humaira, then got ready. Rolling and pinning my veil in place, I gave myself once last onceover in the mirror, making sure everything is place. Satisfied with my look, I wore my knuckle rings in place, then strapped the wrist watch and lastly matching shoes.

My daddumah laid beside my phone, so I picked both up and then headed outside where Humaira was already set and waiting for me. Quick pleasantries exchanged with Mama, the driver—not Muazu thankfully, made an appearance as he had arrived along with my step siblings since we already head out together for eid prayers.

So, we bid Anty farewell and headed out to the car where the others were waiting for us. Regardless of the beef going on between our mothers, our relationship remained pretty good—not the best, but good enough. Besides, no matter what, we always keep any hard feelings aside on eid and enjoy it to the fullest. As the eldest now, I was tasked with keeping us all in check, and that was how we spent the drive to the masjid snapping videos and pictures for eid, laughter filling the space of the car.

We managed to make it to the prayer grounds in time, then laid our prayer mats, joining the congregational prayers. After the prayers, everyone started to leave, all in a rush to head home and spend the day however they planned. I could already see people on my socials uploading their pictures with their families, making a smile appear on my face.

Everyone manages to look really good on Eid truly, Masha Allah.

I went through my snapchat, then found my favorites of the pictures we had taken, before uploading it on my story. There were some with all my siblings, some with just Humaira and a few I took alone, then tagged it 'Eid Mubarak from my family to yours!' with a white heart then sent it.

Yaya's message came almost immediately, and I wasted no time to open it.

'Get out. You look ugly.' She replied with an eye roll emoji.

I chuckled, smelling the jealously all the way here. It is way too obvious that she is upset because she cannot spend Eid at home unlike I can—I remember how much she teased me on my first eid married, claiming we are finally on the same board. Jokes on her really.

Instead of typing a reply, I picked up the camera, then had the others pose with me as we poked our tongues out, then snapped and sent it to her. Once again, she replied with an eye roll emoji and a hiss, making me laugh.

Once done, I continued to swipe through people's stories, transitioning from Snapchat to Instagram where I came across Faiza's story amongst others. The moment the story loaded, I was welcomed by a picture of hers—all dressed up in an abaya with the Eid Mubarak caption as well. I instantly liked the story, then sent her a heart emoji.

Tapping the next story, I was welcomed by a family picture of theirs—where even Hajiya was included. The Bayero family has this tradition of spending their Eids in Kano, since majority of their father's extended family resides here. Faiza had returned to their family house, and by the looks of it, even Ya Mama made an early appearance as well because it truly is a full family picture.

My gaze moved Hajiya and Baba—as they call their father seated on the couch, to the others who stood behind them. Faiza sat on the armrest, leaning on Hajiya's shoulder while Ya Mama sat on the armrest beside their father sporting a wide grin. Behind them, Ya Yusuf stood, his usual outgoing smile missing as he appeared stoic—it appears the man has a thing for smiling in pictures, I made a mental note to tease him about it later and finally...the man standing beside him—today, missing his usual glasses.

I intentionally looked at him last, and I found myself lingering on the picture. I had never seen him before without his glasses, and for some reason, he looked different—though not in a bad way but without the glasses, it just felt as though something is missing. He had the same expression as Ya Yusuf, though I do not expect much from him to be honest.

With a baited breath, I tapped the next picture, and I was welcomed by a picture of Faiza and Ya Mama, a selfie this time around, and once again, I found myself awestruck by the familiarity between the two. I had never seen the similarity between the two as I did in that moment. Only difference is, Ya Mama looked older, a shade darker than Faiza, with the beautiful fair skin that surpasses all the Bayero siblings.

In the mood to pull her leg, I replied that story, with a 'Ya Mama looks better than you wallahi, always!'. It is something I always tease her with, yet the girl fervently denies it but it is obvious Ya Mama is better looking really. The only thing Faiza has over her is the fair skin, otherwise, Ya Mama definitely takes the crown.

While Faiza and Ya Mama wore matching abayas of different colors, the men were dressed in white Kaftaan and an intricately brocaded babban riga, their Zanna Bukars perched up on their heads perfectly. My gaze lingered on him, in awe.

While I had seen him in traditional more than I have seen in him other outfits, he truly looked different at the moment. The good different—astonishingly so.

The next picture that followed was one of the Bayero siblings. With Faiza and Ya Mama in the middle, and the brothers beside them—Ya Yusuf beside Faiza and he without glasses today, beside Ya Mama and once again, to the greatest shock of the season—not—the men were not smiling.

Someone should check really, I think there is something wrong with their Zygomaticus major and minor, perhaps, the risorius as well.

Shaking my head at the thought, I moved to the next picture, and I could swear for a moment, this one truly got to me. This time around, it was a picture of him alone, seated on a chair. Judging from the picture, he was not aware when it was taken, and as such, his guard was down.

Ya ilahi. He was smiling. Amani was in his arms, and this time around, his glasses were in place as she reached out for them—wearing a white dress which matches his. He seemed genuinely happy, it was glaringly obvious. My heart melted at the sight, and without thinking, I found myself liking, and taking a screenshot of the story. Faiza captioned it with, 'My whole heart' and a heart emoji to accompany it. I could not help but agree with her, even my own heart skipped a beat truly.

It is truly a sight to behold. Masha Allah.

I do not know I long I stared at the picture if I am being honest, before moving onto the next. This time around, Faiza started a question and answer session, and when I checked the time she uploaded it, it showed it has been over thirty minutes and it appeared she had already answered some as well.

So, I moved on to the next post, reading the questions that were asked. At first, most of them were simply wishing her Eid Mubarak as well and complimenting her, however, after the fourth, it began to change to something else. Someone asked, 'Please is that your brother? I am crushing!'.

I found myself snickering. It appears someone would crush and crash after all—whichever she is referring to.

Faiza replied with a yes, they are both her brothers.

Then someone asked, or practically announced, 'Wallahi wannan brother naki da baby ya shiga raina. I love him.' This one added a crying emoji and hearts.

I hissed, shaking my head slightly. My gaze moved to Faiza's reply, who replied with a laughing emoji then added, 'Sorry but he is taken. I am sure his wife will get my head for this.'.

I huffed out a breath, realizing it is the last one she replied, two minutes ago. I left the story, dropping the phone aside I chose to focus on the drive back home instead. My other sister, Nafisa asked me to borrow her my phone so she would snap pictures. I left it to her, annoyance still brewing in me slightly but I ignored it.

Why should I care who likes him or not?

That thought disappeared when we reached home, and they dropped off Humaira and I first before they departed. With that out of the way, I later on found myself in the kitchen helping Anty and the maids prepare food for the day as we would be expecting guests later on as usual. And that we found ourselves in the kitchen up until around twelve when we were finally done with everything.

I took the chance to get back to my room so I could shower and get rid of the kitchen and food scent lingering on my skin. After my shower once again, I picked out the lace I had picked out for the day, and placed it on the kabbasa after spraying perfume on it—a hack I had learnt from Faiza. Believe me, it makes all the difference, depending on which perfume you use that is it.

While my outfit is getting smoked, I took the initiative to get ready. I went through my usual routine of oiling my skin with my lotions and all, the did my makeup—I specifically put effort today because it is Sallah. 

Once satisfied with my makeup, the adhaan for the prayer was called. So, I wore a random dress, and a hijab on top then spread out the prayer mat before praying. As soon as I was done praying, the sound of my phone ringing reached my ears, and I found myself reaching out for it.

A small smile donned my face as I picked it up, and the caller ID came to sight. Answering the Facetime video call, I stood up from the prayer mat, then began to fold it with one hand as her voice came from the other end.

"Sa'adatu Muhammad Sulaiman," She called out, her tone giddy. "Barka da sallah."

"Faiza Sunusi Bayero." I chuckled, then mimicked her. "Barkan mu da sallah. Ya gida da kowa da kowa?"

"Du lafiya qalau, alhamdullilah." She suspired, and from what I could see, she had changed out of her earlier abaya and is now wearing a beautiful atampha. She was seated so I could not tell how it looks entirely, but it looks nice. She had tied her head tie into a simple one, her face all baked up. "Wato Saadatu you cannot send me your Eid pictures, I only saw them on your Snapchat story. Do I have to plead now?"

"You did not send me yours as well, I saw it on your Instagram story." I bite back, though I intentionally did not send her mine. Knowing how many screws are loose in her head, I will not be surprised if she sends them to her brother. She will, believe me. "Where is my baby?" I asked, changing the topic, for I could not spot the little one anywhere.

Faiza's smile curled into a mischievous one, then she asked back. "The big one or the small one? Because they are both fine."

At first, my brain did not register what she meant until after a couple of seconds. And when it did, my eyes dilated slightly, my lips parted. She threw her head back, and laughed out loud at my expense, and I could only found myself glaring at her.

"Wallahi Faiza I will soon stone you, ban son iskanci." I warned, my tone serious.

She ignored it, then feigned innocence. "What did I do? I just answered your question. Besides, of the pictures on my story, you specifically chose to like the one of him alone. Toh nasani ko you are looking for him? Do not worry, I have chased away all the girls after him for you." When I gave her a pointed look, her face broke into a smile and then she shrugged. "To answer your question though—your small baby is with the big one. As always. At this point I should just give her to you two—she is more of your daughter than she is mine."

"Faiza ki fita a idone in rufe."

"Alright, alright, got it. Na fita." She surrendered, or so I thought until she suddenly added. "The only one you want in your sight is Yaya. Got it."

I hissed. "Faiza, sai anjima. Do not call me ever again." I made a move to end the call, but her voice came once again, quickly.

"Wat, wait, wait. I am sorry. Do not end it. Yi haquri, kinji."

I flashed her a pointed look, waiting for her to say something again, but she did not. Instead, she changed the topic. "Ya Mama wanted me to confirm your presence tomorrow. You are still coming though, right?"

I nodded, my mind going back to the annual eid celebration Ya Mama always hosts—in case you have not noticed, she loves hosting people for something. This time around, she is hosting an eid hangout tomorrow, and has extended the invite since the iftaar. Besides, her eid event is one of the things I missed about eid—I have attended most of them, and believe me when I say, it also forms a highlight of my Eid.

"Of course, I will be there in shaa Allah." I ascertained, dropping the prayer mat aside before making my way to pick up my clothes from the kabbasa. The smoke instantly dissipated into the air. "4pm right?"

"Yup," She nodded in confirmation. "Speaking of which, Hajiya has been asking of you. Wai bataga yar ta ba since she came."

A smile made its way on my face at the mention of the woman, "Allah sarki Hajiya ta. I will drop by to see her later, or tomorrow if I do not find a chance today in shaa Allah." I am not sure if I will get time today, but I do not, then tomorrow then. After all, the Bayero residence is not far from Ya Mama's house so I can drop by before heading to Ya Mama's.

"Alright, I will let her know in shaa Allah. So, will you be going to see the durbur today?"

I hummed, then nodded. "I was not planning to, but Humaira wants to go so I would take her."

"Are you going alone? I can come sai muje tare." Her lips formed a slight pout, "There is nothing much for me to do here really other than welcome guests."

"I have company, actually." I said, holding her gaze as I weighed the chances of her tagging along. "But if you do not mind his presence, then sure."

"His?" Her brows drew in, eyes narrowed slightly. "Please tell me it is not who I am thinking." The dislike in her tone was evident, on her face as well.

I found myself chuckling as I shook my head. "You are the first person I have met that has a thing against Zaheer truly," I stated, then found myself adding in a small voice. "Well, your brother as well. But, you two are peas in a pod, birds of the very same feather so I am not surprised."

"Yaya's dislike is justified. Did you not see the way the guy has been acting around you during the iftaar? My poor brother was simply jealous." And of course she would try to defend her brother. When will she ever not? One should never brother with those two truly.

The mention of Zaheer's actions had me snickering slightly, "Is it not Zaheer? Whatever he does is intentional." I ignored the part of her brother being jealous, because what can I say?

"You talk as if you know him well."

"That is because I do," I reiterated. "Perhaps a bit too much even. But, he just likes seeking trouble, do not take what he does to heart. He is a trouble maker by nature."

She scoffed, "And does that involve what he did to me at the mall?" She inquired, and I am reminded of how she explained him being the guy she met at the mall the other day and was trying to take her pictures which turned out to be a misunderstanding really, but she does not understand and he refuse to explain. Two stubborn people really, there is no point for me to dwell on them.

They can fix their issues if they want to—they are adults after all.

"Your dislike is mutual—it is up to you to fix it if you want or other. Chan muku." I sighed, waving the matter off. I refuse to be stuck in between those two. "You can tag along if you want. But, a piece of advice, he is a good person, and so are you. Just get past the misunderstandings, and I am sure you two will be good friends."

"I will think about it," She said simply, her stubborn façade refusing to crack.

I gave her a look, then sighed and shook my head. "Allah ya shirye ki." I resorted to saying instead.

"Ameen."

"Bye, I have to get ready for the day. Let us talk later okay?" I suspired, settling down on the bed, wanting nothing more than to change into my eid outfit. You know this excitement and anticipation of wanting to wear your eid outfit? That is exactly what I am feeling.

"Alright, laters then. I will let you know if I will join you."

"Okay tohm. My regards to everyone. Tell Ya Isubu I said he should smile more please; otherwise we cannot find him a wife."

Faiza snickered, "Fret not, I will pass your message to everyone." Then, her smile widened, "Yaya na gaishe ki as well." She then leaned in to whisper, "He has been here the whole time."

"FAIZA BAYERO!"

She laughed out loud. "Bye! Barkan mu da sallah." She hastily ended the call.

*****

Urgh I enjoyed writing about Eid more than I anticipated really 🥹 Eid time is actually the best time of the year, argue with your keyboard.

Moving onnnnnn I do not have much to say here tbh other than Faiza you are in soup!! The way Una Dey vex Saadatu like this avoid her o, tam 😂

Kai Kuma Adnanu I've been waiting for you to send your Eid pics shiru, haka akeyi? Send make I sell it abeg—I know people that will pay money for your picture.

Speaking of which, if you are to use a celebrity, Nigerian, American, whatever nationality, who do you see as Adnan and who do you picture as Saadatu? What about the other characters? 

Adnan's face just Dey change in my mind like this anyhow 😂 Saadatu too. My friends claim she's basically me and I cannot argue but she has a different face in my head certainly.

For Faiza, there's someone on my mind but I can't figure out who exactly. It's not easy to picture character faces really. So let me hear your thoughts!

Chapter thirty! Omo we've come a long way. If I stick to my traditions, we have approximately 20 chapters to round this book up. But, we shall see🙂

Toh you all should stay safe. Tomorrow is Monday and God abeg!!!!😭😭😭 I hate work days now more than ever.

Stay safe sha.

Love, Jannah Mia💕