I've never woken this late. It's nearly impossible to find me waking this late in the morning; if my nightmares don't wake me, work surely would. Definitely today is one of those rare good days.

I unlock my phone and start answering messages. Rahma's messages are the ones I answer first, then I begin to reply work mails and direct messages.
A knock sounds at my door and I subconsciously ignore it. I ignore the knocks until the third time and calls too, if you are serious you'll call back. It's one of my biggest bad habits.

The knock sounds again, this time a hit and then a slam. I'm forced to get up. I walk sluggishly to the door, I peep. It's Mother.

"Good morning Mother."

She eyes me hard and I know that I deserve it. But, she doesn't ever come to this part of the house, I chose my room to be a far distance from hers for a reason and all those steps usually discourage her from getting here.

She walks into my room with a determined step and plops on my bed. Majestically, I have no idea how she does it.

"Since, you don't want events, I've asked Hajiya Sadia to ask a gyaryan jiki lady to come over later so you can start getting treatment for your skin." She looks me over and scrunches her face. 

I mentally roll my eyes and nod visibly to her. She looks round my room again, the colours are obviously muted to her. She's one of those people who think that girls should have their rooms in colors like pink or light green or some girly colour that represents their gender. Absolute nonsense.

"What colour do you want your room painted in? I've been talking to Adeel's mother and she says we don't have to decorate because the whole house is decorated. Just your room and a few things that need to be put in it."  I sit on the chest at the foot of my bed and cross my legs Indian style.

"I want the room painted in shades of grey. I'll select them later and tell you whatever I've chosen to be put in the room."  She looks at me with sympathy filled eyes and I'm suddenly wondering how come my mother is looking at me in that manner. She isn't one to show emotion, it's either she doesn't have any to show or she has tamped down her emotions.

She pats a space next to her and beckons me into it. I contemplate a bit and walk around to her side. Then she grabs my right hand. "I'm not sure you know, but I think being married will do you a lot of good. You've been alone for so long." 

I mentally raise an eyebrow to her words, alone for so long, marriage will do me a lot of good? What good?

I sigh and pat her hand. Then keep mum. I wait for her to finish speaking. "Afrah, be happy. Just be happy."

She stands up and walks out.

****

A few hours later, I'm at  Jabi lake mall, I pick out a few things, my up and down cart is full and nearly spilling over. Okay, a lot of things. But it is never enough for the people I'm taking it to.

I manoeuvre the cart out of the mall after paying and a staff takes it from me to push to my car.

"Ya Nabeela!!!!."

Who knows me enough to call me that. I turn to see Adeel's youngest sister and three other girls. She skips towards me and the other girls walk slowly behind her clearly used to her. That day at the dinner, she sounded like a chirpy little thing.

"Ya Nabeela, Good morning." I smile at her and look at her brows, It looks way better than the last time at Khadijah's wedding. Looks like she took my advice. All her friends are sporting the same eyebrows, done by her. Surely. The one in blue ankara doesn't need a curve, she needs a slightly straight eyebrow. It would go well with the face type she has.

"Zarah, How are you doing?  How's Mummy." Adeel's mother had asked me to call her mummy too, she probably doesn't know that I call my own mother Mother.

"I'm fine. These are my friends, Maryam and Fatima.  We attend NTIC together. Same class." This girl does a great deal of talking but I still nod at the other girls who smile at me and then peruse what I'm wearing. Openly. Girls of this days are shameless.

"Darling, if Mummy lets you. You can come over to the studio, ask mummy for permission though. You could learn a thing or two. I'm in a hurry, I have to run now or I'll be late." I pat her shoulder, hand her a few one thousand naira notes and hightail it to my car. I thank the staff and tip her for helping me with the load and get into my car.

This trip usually takes all of my energy. Emotionally and physically.

****

Ninety minutes later, give or take. I'm driving into a shabby neighbourhood in one of Abuja's satellite towns. I park in front of a one storey house with faded wine paint and a large NOT FOR SALE, BEWARE OF 419.  I fold my prayer mat and tuck it under my armpit and lock the car. I push the rickety gate open and walk a few stair steps to the upper part of the building.

I knock at a brown door and wait for reply. The curtains in this house shows the financial capabilities of each person, the one I'm standing in front has red and blue flowers entwined in its print.

The front door is finally opened by a girl in a long brown hijab. She cracks a bright smile that shows all of her teeth and launches herself at me.

"Ya Affy. I've missed you so much." I kiss her cheek lightly and I walk in carrying her, balancing her weight on my other arm.

I greet a much older woman sitting on a threadbare chair covered with a lace material. It doesn't do much to hide the fact that the chair is threadbare.

"You forgot all about me koh? It's OK o." I instantly smile and mock pout. She smiles at me brightly. My pout has had the desired effect.

"Where is Safiyya?" I look around the small living room that doubles as bedroom for my sister Safiyya and the baby of the house. Humairah.

She gestures towards the back. "She went to the kitchen, it's time to cook lunch." I smile and nod, pull on my long hijab and walked with Humairah to the kitchen situated around the corner. Five tenants share one kitchen and conveniences, not the most logical arrangement but money is short around here.

We round the corner and tiptoe towards my sister Safiyya but she spoils the surprise by turning to pour water into a sink. She drops the rice she's holding and launches herself at me. My poor bones.

"Ya Affy!!!!!!"

I pull her away from me gently and she rushes to pour the rice into a boiling water on the kerosene stove. Then I drag a seat from a neighbour's cooking space.

"Ya Affy, don't take that one. Take the other one. From Mama Chinedu's table."  I drop the other one I took and  drag a smooth table top shaped seat and plop down on it. I pull Humairah in between my legs and hand her my phone.

"What do you think about studying fashion design at Baze or Nile. I hear they offer it. You'll stay in the hostel since it's far from here. What do you think?"
Her face crumples immediately and I know why. I'm willing to dip into my savings to send her to one of the best schools in the country. I don't mind.

"Ya Affy, Nile and Baze are ridiculously expensive universities and I'm sure Mama doesn't have money for anything other than University of Abuja. I don't want to raise my hopes so high." Life sure hasn't been fair to Safiyya, she has a father who doesn't want her, a mother thrown out by her relatives and living alone.

My father abandoned his mistress and her only child, my sister, Safiyya. Humairah is a child they found at an IDP camp nearby that nobody wanted. They took her in, nurtured her and brought her up.

"Saffy, I just made a suggestion. I wouldn't make that suggestion if I don't have the means. Allah S. W. T.  has allowed me the means to pay your fees till you graduate. When you are on holidays, you'll intern at a good fashion outfit and I know with your talent Insha Allah, you'll do great things. So get ready to go to either. OK?"

She nods gravely and I wave my car keys at her. Her eye brighten. Goodies.  She grabs them from me and rushes downstairs with Humairah hot on her heels.

I follow at a leisurely pace due to the darkness in the stairwell. My eyes have never adjusted to the darkness here. 

We bring in all the things in the car and it takes about three trips between both of us. We store them in a large cupboard  that doubles as a decoration but with fake mirrors, you can't see the inside.

We eat lunch and I get set to leave.

"Does Baba know that you know about me now?"

I sigh and sag against my car seat. I shake my head slightly and tears fill her eyes. She begins to play with groundnuts in a medium sized covered container, to be grind at a public grinding machine later.  I start the car and drive slowly out of their street.

When she alights from my car. I let my own tears drop. Finally.

******

Hello lovelies,

We crossed one thousand reads on Saturday morning. Thank you so much. God bless all of you abundantly. I love all of you.

Who saw that plot twist coming, there are new characters: Safiyya and Humairah. I loved writing this chapter.

I just decided to update randomly 🙌I'm bored. Very bored. 😥😥😥And the heat isn't helping matters.

OK bye, I've rambled enough. Please spam my phone with votes and comments.

               TheOmoope.