Enjoy....🍁

Three weeks  later

Abuja, Nigeria

It's been three weeks since I returned from Florida for good, and I can't help but feel a twinge of sadness as I think about that place. There's something about it—the vibrant energy, the warmth of the sun, the life I built there—that I will surely miss. But Alhamdulillah, life here is going smoothly, and I'm adjusting more each day. The transition hasn't been easy, but it's been full of blessings.

Insha'Allah, soon, Baba, Ya Ahmad, Yassine, Mairam, and I will be going for Umrah. The thought of embarking on this sacred journey fills my heart with peace and excitement. It's a beautiful opportunity to reconnect with our faith, to seek forgiveness, and to pray for the things closest to our hearts. I'm looking forward to the moments of reflection and the spiritual closeness to Allah, especially with my family by my side.

I feel so grateful for the direction my life is taking—Alhamdulillah, everything is falling into place, and I trust that this trip will be a turning point, one that will bring even more blessings and growth for us all.

Last week, we celebrated a huge milestone—Amma's graduation with her Master's degree in Fashion Design and Interior Decoration. It was such a proud moment for all of us, and we couldn't be happier for her. She's worked incredibly hard to get to this point, and seeing her achieve this goal felt like a victory for the whole family.

Yaya, Ya Hammad, Ya Bebi, Yakaka, Ya Zahra, and Ya Ibrahim were all there to celebrate with Amma.

Today is Saturday, and like most days lately, it's one of those slow, lazy days where I find myself with nothing on my agenda. Yesterday, I spent some time at Maryam's house with Dami. We spent hours catching up on everything we've missed—talking about life, old memories, and of course, my upcoming wedding. It was nice to relax and share our excitement about the big day ahead.

Right now, I'm at home, lounging in my room, tucked into my cozy bed, watching a show while chatting with Sayyid on the phone. He's telling me all about his ex-girlfriend, Hanan—how she keeps calling him, pleading with him to marry her. It's a bit of a mess, and I can tell it's weighing on him.

Here's a refined version of that dialogue:

---

"She even told me it's fine if I marry her *after* marrying you. Babe, can you believe that?" He said, "God knows I can't marry two wives," he added, his voice tinged with annoyance.

"I can't even imagine that... gosh," I said with a small laugh.

Honestly, I can't even imagine being with a co-wife, let alone sharing my husband with someone else.

"I can't share my husband with anyone else—I can't share you," I said, pouting slightly, even though I knew he couldn't see it.

"Don't worry, baby," he said softly, his voice full of reassurance. "You're never going to have to share me with anyone."

"So, how's your weekend been so far?" I asked, smoothly shifting the topic.

"So hectic," he replied with a sigh, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "I end up working even on weekends!"

We talked about work for a bit, exchanging updates and frustrations, but soon the conversation naturally drifted to something much more exciting—our upcoming marriage.

"I can't wait for you to be mine, completely," he began, his voice filled with anticipation. "Subhanallah, you have no idea what I've been planning for you."

"Really, Sayyid? What exactly are you planning?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

He chuckled, a hint of mischief in his voice. "I'm planning so many things," he said, his tone filled with affection. "To love you unconditionally, to kiss you senselessly... Ya Allah, so many things."

My face had probably turned as red as a beetroot from all the blushing. "Sayyid... I can't wait to be legally yours, too," I said, my voice soft but filled with anticipation.

"You have no idea how much I love you, Aidah," he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, full of emotion.

We talked and talked, the conversation flowing effortlessly. Earlier, I had decided to do that Instagram questions thing, so I started answering a few, but I stopped when Sayyid called.

"Okay, this one says, 'Is it true that you're engaged to Sayyid Remawa?'" I read aloud, chuckling to myself.

I read the question aloud, feeling a mix of surprise and amusement. "I don't even know how people know this!" I muttered to myself, half-laughing.

"Oh wow. Taya suka sani?" Sayyid asked, his voice laced with amusement.

"I don't know, fah," I replied, shaking my head with a smile, then quickly typing out my answer to the question.

"Okay... what's the next question?" he asked, his tone curious.

What would you name your first daughter?'

"Okay... what would you name our daughter, babe?" he asked, his voice soft and filled with a hint of excitement.

"When the time comes, baby," I replied, a warm blush creeping up my cheeks. "Okay, this one says."

'Hi Aidah, you're so beautiful. Your wedding is going to be the talk of the town.'

"Oh wow," I said, chuckling. "You know, I've been getting a lot of questions about this wedding lately," I added, looking at him with a playful smile.

"Yeah well, because it's gonna be amazing! Inshallah"

I moved to the next question, and as soon as I read it, I couldn't help but laugh so hard.

-Do you love your fiancé or is it an arranged/forced marriage?

I read the question out loud to him, unable to hold back a laugh.

He laughed. "Mutane ma wallah."

I laughed and read the next question aloud, "The next question: Is it true that Sayyid dated your sister Amma in the past? Oh wow."

Sayyid and Amma had been friends long before I even knew who Sayyid Remawa was. But of course, people always misunderstood their close friendship and mistook it for something more. There was even a time when a rumor spread that they were engaged!

"Wow, I don't know what's wrong with people, fah," he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

That's how I replied to most of the questions, laughing along with him. Time passed, and after a while, Sayyid excused himself to go to the mosque. I quickly prayed Asr, then headed to the kitchen to grab something to eat. I walked in and fetched some brabusko with miyan kuka and a side of spicy yaji (pepper).

I took my food with me to the living room, where Mairam was sitting and watching TV. Earlier this week, Kamilla, Maryam, and I had gone to Hudayya and Kathy Anthony—two fashion designers I trusted with my wedding outfits—to drop off the fabrics I had bought. They were the ones I had carefully chosen to bring my vision to life for the big day.

The house felt unusually quiet, with just me, Mairam, Kamilla, Yassine and Mama at home. Amma, Nadia, Ammi Ya Ummi, and Yakaka were all in Spain, having traveled there after Amma's graduation. It was a special trip to celebrate, and they'd been gone for a little while now.

My Adda Niimah gave birth to a beautiful baby girl yesterday, but both of them weren't feeling too well at first. It was a bit of a scare—she went into labor earlier than expected, and the baby had to be delivered via emergency c-section. But Alhamdulillah, they're both doing much better now, and I'm so relieved to hear that they're recovering.

Earlier, Ammi sent me a picture of Mama and the baby, and I couldn't help but smile. I honestly can't wait to see both Adda Niimah and the little one in person. It's going to be so special to hold that tiny bundle and see how Mama is doing now that they're both recovering.

2 weeks later.

"Mama, I don't feel good. My stomach hurts," I said, wincing as I clutched my stomach, hoping it was just a passing discomfort.

"What did you eat that spoiled your stomach, baby?" Mama asked, gently pulling me to her side, her concern evident as she rubbed my back soothingly.

"Nothing. It's the lower part, on the right side," I replied, wincing as I clutched my stomach, hoping it would pass soon.

"Sannu, we should go to the hospital," Mama said gently, patting me lightly on the back as her concern deepened.

"No, Mama. It'll subside eventually. I'll just go lay down," I said, attempting to stand up, hoping the discomfort would ease on its own.

"What nonsense! Go get dressed and meet me downstairs right now," Mama said firmly, leaving no room for argument. Her tone brooked no refusal, and I knew better than to protest.

I protested again, trying to ease her worry. "I'm totally fine, Mama. It's just something I ate, maybe a cramp. Really, it's nothing," I insisted, though the discomfort still lingered.

"Wai Meyasa kike da taurin kai ne, Aidah. I am not asking you, it is an order and don't make me repeat myself." My step mom said.

I quietly walked to my room and quickly threw on an abaya over my leggings and T-shirt. As I reached the stairs, a sudden, sharp pain shot through my abdomen. It was so intense that I couldn't help but scream, doubling over and clutching my stomach in agony.

I heard hurried footsteps approaching, but I couldn't bring myself to look up. The pain was so intense that I could barely focus on anything else.

"Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji'un, Aidah!" I heard Kami's voice, filled with alarm. "What's wrong? Ya Allah! Mama!!" She called out, her panic rising as she rushed toward me.

I heard fast footsteps approaching, and I knew they definitely belonged to Mama. "Kamilla, maza maza, get the driver! Mu tafi asibiti! Hurry up, go get the driver, let's go to the hospital!" Mama said urgently, holding me tightly as if trying to steady me.

The next thing I could remember was being at the hospital, changed into a hospital gown, and preparing for surgery. The doctors explained that it was appendicitis and it needed to be removed immediately. A wave of nervousness washed over me, but I silently prayed to my Lord for a safe surgery, trusting in His will and mercy.

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