Sayyid

It's been nearly a month since I last saw Aidah. She traveled to Spain with her family, but she's returning today, inshallah. Based on my calculations, she should arrive around 3:30. I can't wait to see her—I miss her so much!

It's Friday, and I'm sitting in my office reviewing some plans Baba gave me yesterday when I heard a knock at the door. "Sorry to disturb you, sir, but you have a visitor," Patience, my PA, announced.

"It's fine, Patience. Please send them in," I replied, turning my attention back to the plans.

She nodded and stepped out, closing the door behind her. A few minutes later, the door opened, and the visitor entered. I was focused on my laptop and didn't look up right away. "Welcome," I said, still engrossed in my work.

"Thanks, darling," a familiar voice replied. I looked up, my expression a mix of surprise and recognition. Standing before me was a girl dressed in tight clothes that revealed much of her upper body. Astagfirullah.

"Hanan, what are you doing in my office?" I asked, furrowing my brows. She was the last person I expected to see here.

"What? Aren't you happy to see me, Sayyid?" she asked, leaning over the desk and making her cleavage visible. I quickly turned my head. "I missed you, baby. I came back for you."

You're probably wondering who she is. Hanan Ibrahim Dabo, my ex-girlfriend. We met in university and dated for almost three years. I truly loved her, but she broke my heart by cheating on me with a friend. I ended things then, and I hadn't seen or heard from her until today.

"What brings you to my office?" I asked again, my tone stern.

"Sayyid, I came back for you. I'm sorry, really—I've changed. Just give me a chance," she said, leaning closer. "I want you to marry me. My dad insists I find a husband, or he'll marry me off to one of his friends. Please, Sayyid, help me."

I sat there, speechless, unsure of how to respond. Is she serious? Me? Marry her? Allah ya sawake. I can't even imagine being with anyone but Aidah. It's always been her, and it always will be, inshallah.

"Look, Hanan, I have someone I love. I've moved on," I started. "I can't and will never marry you." With that, I gathered my things and left the office, leaving a shocked Hanan behind.

I met my PA, Patience, and asked her to lock the office once Hanan left. After that, I drove home, my mind racing with thoughts. It was already past noon when I arrived, so I went inside the main house and settled in, waiting for Baba. We always go to the masjid together for Friday prayers, and I cherished that routine.

"Uncle Sayyid!" Abdallah, my three-year-old nephew, ran toward me and jumped into my arms. He's Meera's son, and his energy always brings a smile to my face.

"Hey buddy, how are you?" I asked, lifting him into my arms. His laughter filled the room, brightening my mood instantly.

"I'm fine! Where have you been?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. This boy can talk for Africa, just like his mother—definitely inherited that trait from Meera!

"I've been in the office. Now, where's your mommy?" I asked. Abdallah took my hand in his small ones and eagerly dragged me toward the living room upstairs. I said salaam as we entered.

"Aunty, ina wuni," I greeted my stepmom, then turned to Mami. "Jam bandu na, Mami," I said in Fulani, giving her a warm smile.

They responded to my greetings as I sat down next to Meera, who was busy enjoying some awara (soybean cake). I reached for a piece, but she swiftly smacked my hand away. "Shameless guy! What do you think you're doing?"

"Come on, sis, let me have just one, please," I pleaded.

"It's for pregnant ladies, please," she said, taking another bite. "Are you pregnant?" she asked, rolling her eyes at me.

I asked Sauda to bring some for me. Checking the time, I noticed it was almost time for prayer, but Baba still hadn't returned. I decided to stay a little longer and enjoy my food before heading to the mosque.

"So, how is Aidah? When is she coming back? You know you promised to bring her to my house," Meera said, munching on her awara.

"She's fine, and she's coming back today, inshallah. I said I would bring her one day, inshallah," I replied, massaging my temple as I spoke.

She nodded. "You know, her sister Ruqaiya is a really close friend of mine. We're still in touch."

Meera and I chatted for a bit until Baba called me, and we all got ready to leave for the mosque for Friday prayers.

Aidah

We arrived in Abuja at 3:30 PM, and our drivers were waiting at the airport to pick us up. We reached home shortly after, and I felt exhausted. I hopped out of the car and made a beeline for my room. Oh, how I missed this place! My siblings had returned to their own houses; some had traveled here, while others had gone back to school.

I stood up and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower, then performed my ablution. After praying Zuhr and Asr, I recited my daily adhkar. Once I was done, I made my way to the living room for lunch. I was so hungry—I could barely eat the food on the plane!

I sat down on the couch next to Ammi and asked the maid to bring me food in the living room. A few minutes later, she came in with brabusko and miyan kuka. It's a Kanuri traditional dish, and I love it so much!

"Ammi, zan fita," I told her, letting her know I was going out.

"Where are you going?" she asked. "Baki gaji bane ba?"

"I'm not really tired. Zani gidan su Maryam," I replied.

"Alright. A dawo lafiya," she said as she picked up a call.

After finishing my delicious meal, I headed to my room to get dressed. I noticed my phone ringing on the bedside, so I walked over and picked it up. Checking the caller ID, I answered with a smile. "Hey," I said as I answered the call.

"Baby," he said. "How was your flight?"

"Fine, Alhamdulillah. How was work?" I asked.

"Fine, alhamdulillah. Just got back," he said with a sigh. "Are you at home?" he asked.

"Yes, but I'm going to Maryam's house in about thirty minutes, inshallah."

"Okay, I'll come and take you," he said.

"Okay, see ya," I said before hanging up.

"Aidah!" I heard Ammi's voice. I went to her room and said salam. She responded, and I sat down on the bed. "Ammi, gani."

"A little bird told me you have a boyfriend," she said, unable to contain her smile.

"Ammi, who told you? I don't have a boyfriend!" I said playfully.

"You're lying to your mother! Tell me the truth, or do you want me to tell you his name?" Ammi said, a teasing smile forming on her lips.

"Ammiiiii, fine, yes I do! Now, who told you?" I asked, curious to know which blabbermouth spilled the beans.

"What's your business?" Ammi said, rolling her eyes, smiling.

"I'm happy you choose wisely though. Sayyid is a gentleman." She added, making me blush.

"Well, Allah ya maku albarka! You can go, but who's taking you?" she asked.

"Ummm, Sayyid said he's going to take me there, so let me go get ready." With that, I left her room and headed to mine to prepare.

I slipped on an abaya over my black dress, grabbed my red Prada handbag and phone, then spritzed on some Chanel No. 5. After applying lip balm and kohl, I was admiring myself in the mirror when my phone rang. It was Sayyid; he said he was outside.

I slipped into my red Tory Burch slippers and told Ammi I was leaving. She teased me, saying she couldn't wait for her baby's wedding. After that, I went back to my room, grabbed Maryam and Sayyid's gift, and headed out.

I went outside and spotted his familiar gray Jaguar XF. I opened the passenger seat and slid in, greeted by a strong, rich cologne and a dashing smile from my charming boyfriend.

"I missed you, baby," he said, giving me a quick side hug that made my cheeks flush.

"I missed you too"

He started the car, and we zoomed out of the house onto the busy Abuja road. "In My Feelings" was playing, and both Sayyid and I sang along with Drake. I noticed he was quiet—unlike him—so I decided to ask, "What's wrong?"

"Me? Nothing," he said, giving me a quick glance before turning his eyes back to the road.

"Sayyid, don't do that," I said, giving him a look. "Tell me, what's wrong?"

"Okay, Hanan came to my office earlier," he started, but then paused.

"And?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"She asked me to marry her! Babe, can you imagine?" He sounded annoyed and a bit furious. "She said her father told her to find a husband, or he'd marry her off to one of his friends," he finished, still looking pissed.

I looked at him, trying not to laugh. "Sayyid, you don't have to be so furious about this. Just ignore her, okay?"

He nodded, and I placed my hand on his free one. He squeezed it in response. Before long, we arrived at Maryam's house. Victor, their gateman, opened the gate for us, and we entered the compound, parking the car.

"What time will you be done?" he asked

I laughed. "Look at you, acting like my husband!"

"Soon, inshallah," he said with a chuckle.

"I'll call you when I'm ready to go," I said.

He smiled. "Okay, bye."

"Bye," I said as I got out of the car.

•

"Assalamu alaikum," I said as I entered the house through the kitchen door.

"Wa alaikum salam," Ayush, Maryam's 17-year-old sister, replied.

"Ya Aidah!" Ayush squealed, hugging me tightly.

"Ayushee, I missed you," I said, hugging her back. "Where is your big-headed sister?"

"She's in her room." Ayush said and I went ahead to Maryam's room.

"Ke Mairo," I said as she entered the room. I found Maryam sleeping cozily, so I walked over, pulled back the duvet, and poked her face.

Maryam hissed and threw a pillow at me. "I hate you," she groaned.

"Yeah, I love you too"

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" she squealed.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," I said, slumping on the bed next to her. "So, surprise!"

Maryam stood up and headed to the bathroom. When she came out, she spread a praying mat and put on her hijab. She prayed Asr and finished shortly after.

"So, what are we going to do?" I asked, picking up the paper bag and handing it to her.

"Aww, thanks, baby," she said, and I smiled. "Don't mention it."

Maryam unwrapped it and hung it on the wall. Just then, Salma, Maryam's 19-year-old sister, came in and told us that Mama was back. We went to her room to greet her, saying Salam as we entered.

"Mama, ina wuni," I greeted, hugging her and savoring her warm scent.

"Lafiya lau, Aidah. Kun dawo lafiya?" Mama asked, her face lit up with a warm smile.

"Lafiya, alhamdulillah, Mama."

Mama asked about Ammi and Ya Niimah. "They're fine, alhamdulillah," I replied.

After exchanging pleasantries, we went back to Maryam's room. She asked who brought me, and I told her it was Sayyid.

"Okayyy," she wiggled her brows, making me roll my eyes. I then told her what had happened earlier at home with Ammi and in the car with Sayyid.

Before I knew it, it was past Maghreb. Sayyid called to ask if I was ready to go because he was in the area. I told him yes and then ended the call.

Maryam and I cooked noodles with egg and sausage, enjoying them with a chilled Coke. We talked about everything we'd missed and caught up on life. Maryam even mentioned that her boyfriend, Bashir, talked about sending elders for their marriage.

"He said they're coming next week" She said, taking a forkful of the spicy noodles.

"Awwww, my best friend is getting hitched! I can't wait," I said, wiggling my brows.

"I know right! I can't wait too" Maryam said happily.

We talked about how we wanted the wedding to be and many more things, sharing our dreams and ideas. Then, Sayyid called to say he was here. I quickly gathered my things and made my way to Mama's room to say goodbye to her, feeling a mix of excitement and nostalgia.

"Toh, greet Maimuna for me, please," Mama said.I stood up and left the room.

We met Ayush and Salma in the living room, watching KUWTK. I bid them goodbye and went outside with Maryam. We spotted Sayyid's gray car parked next to Maryam's, and as we walked to it, he got out and exchanged pleasantries with her.

"Mr. Architect!" Maryam said, making him chuckle.

"Maryam, how far?" he asked with a smile.

"Fine, Alhamdulillah. How's work?" she asked him, and he responded with an update.

"Sayyid, Maryam is getting married, fah!" I said, and Maryam smacked my arm playfully.

"Ah, who is the lucky guy?" he asked, curious.

"Bashir Adamu" I replied and Maryam nodded.

"Oh, does he have a brother named Farouk?" he asked her, and she nodded.

We conversed for a while before deciding to leave. After bidding farewell to Maryam, we zoomed out of the house.

"How was your day, baby?" he asked, sounding genuinely interested.

"Fine Alhamdulillah, yours?"

"Alhamdulillah. Aren't you tired? You just got back today and you've already started yawo," he said.

"Nope, not at all" I said and he shook his head.

We soon arrived at my house, as it wasn't far from Maryam's. The gateman opened the gate, and we entered the compound.

"So, goodnight," I said, unsure of what else to say.

"Yeah, you should go and rest, kinji?" he said, looking at me lovingly.

"Okay goodnight"

"I love you, and hey, thank you," he said. I got out of the car and headed inside, feeling a flutter in my heart. This was the first time Sayyid had told me he loved me.

I went inside and saw Amma, Ya Hammad, and Mahmoud in the living room, all engrossed in a football match.

"Hey, guys," I said, sitting down next to my sister.

"Hi, Leematu," Ya Hammad said, smiling.

We talked for a while before I stood up and went to Ammi's room to tell her I was back. After that, I headed to my room, prayed Isha, changed my clothes, and then slumped down on my cozy bed. Before I knew it, I had fallen fast asleep—I was really tired after all.

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