BOOK ONE:

SILENCE AND STORM

Love that was meant to be. Time unfolds reality.

THE VISITOR

★★★★★

My reality turned into a nightmare the very first day it collided with his world. We could have avoided it, whether it was by accident or by design, but somehow it became a collision worth having. I have heard stories of people falling apart in matrimony, I never thought it would happen to me, especially when I had my life planned out to bit. I felt like I was approaching accomplishment when fate took an excruciating twist. Did you know there is something called Qadr? It happened to all of us and if I could do it over again, I'd like to start from here.

"HANNAN!" I heard my mother calling me from downstairs as I stood in front of my big mirror, struggling to tame my thick dark hair in place. My mother always said my hair was as stubborn as the owner and my sister seemed to share the same opinion, but I could never agree-they didn't understand that not every Shuwa-Arab girl was as lucky as my sister in terms of hair texture.

"Umma, ina zuwa (Mum, I'm coming)" I shouted, quickly rolling on my veil to complement my outfit. I was getting ready for school, dressed in a simple maxi dress that fell easily on my lithe body. It wasn't my best choice of clothing, but after rummaging through my closet, it was the quickest option I could lay my hands on.

"Yi sauri mana (Hurry up), Imran is here. You shouldn't keep him waiting." She yelled back, prompting me to finish up with what I was doing."And by the way, your breakfast is ready."

What is Imran doing here this early? I thought to myself, knowing it was just eight in the morning. I wasn't expecting him, not when it was Monday morning, and thinking of the huge traffic, I knew I was going to be late for school. I had only gotten three hours of sleep the night before. I was up all night studying for my anatomy exam which was my final paper for the semester.

I hurried to smear some lip-gloss on my supple pink lips which contrasted starkly with my butter bronze skin. I was a little lighter than my sister, unlike her I took my father's complexion and to make us even she took his tall height. Speaking of which, I was very average in height-the only thing I successfully inherited from my mother.

I brushed my eyebrows to form an almost perfect arc and that was all for the makeup session. That was something my sister and I had in common; we were naturally endowed with nice facial features, so make-up wasn't really our thing. Still, I was secretly jealous of my sister's eyes and height. She had these amber eyes-something that was rare among the Shuwa-Arabs. People said she was beautiful, but she wasn't too thrilled about it. All that mattered to her was that she was living and breathing.

"Hannan, what are you doing up there? Your sister and her kids are already having their breakfast. Hurry up and join them okay." She informed me and by the time she finished that sentence, I was already at the door.

"Umma (Mum), I'm coming!" My voice came out crankier than I intended. I was already irritated by my mother constantly calling out to me. I hated that she hurried me. I always took my time to prepare for the day, hoping not to forget anything.

I was excited and tense. I had been for some time now, but not for any logical reason. At least not a reason I could come up with. Everything had been going well for me since my father's demise, which saddened me. I got into the university at seventeen with a partial scholarship, my mum got a new job, and in no time we moved into a new apartment.

I felt like there was someone out there, secretly helping us and I wished my father was alive to enjoy these moments with us. I felt extremely sorry for my mother, she was a strong Kanuri woman, yet it was evident in her demeanor that she was still grieving our father after two years of his passing. Nothing even interested her anymore, except that she wanted her daughter (me)_to tie the knot with some eligible man and just like my sister she was only thankful to Allah for sparing her life after what we'd been through in the past few years. Her grievance was a depressing strain on us.

I saw my plans of becoming a Gynecologist failing before my eyes when my father became ill, and those were the moments I thought we'd never know happiness in our home. Life became incredibly tough with each passing minute. I remember how it stung me to see him lay helpless on his deathbed. The memory of his last moments lingered fresh in my heart like an open wound.

I grabbed my bag and headed out of the room, shutting the door behind me in haste. When I got to the living room, Imran was sitting on the couch dressed in a plain white T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. I was taken aback, seeing him at my place, not because I wasn't expecting him, but because I wondered what he was doing in our house in the early hours of the morning.

"Salaam alaikum(Peace be upon you)" He greeted me with a smile when he took sight of me, standing at the bottom of the staircase.

"Wa alaikum salaam( And peace be upon you too)" I replied, returning his smile. "Hey, you came?"

"Are you surprised?" He rose to his feet, a warm smile lingering at the corners of his lips as I approached him.

"Yeah, you are full of surprises," I said, noticing that his curly dark hair had been made into a low cut and his beard formed a narrow cut along his jawline. He was wearing a new look, different from the last time I saw him. He looked a bit younger on account of his new hairstyle and his Fulani signature look. "So to what do I owe this august visit?"

"Well, I didn't come to see you, I came to see Mama na (my mother)" He said in a humorous tone, making my face drop jokingly.

"Toh, sannu da zuwa, dan uwata (okay, welcome, my mother's son). I uttered with a bit of sarcasm in my voice and I saw his hazel eyes sparkling with amusement."You can make yourself comfortable." I held my bag closely and headed straight for the door while Imran followed me.

"C'mon, you can't leave me here."I heard him laughing behind me. "Someone cannot play with you again?" He spoke in Pidgin English, which was our language of fun and how we expressed ourselves spontaneously on this side of the world.

"You said you came to see my mother." I turned to face him, pretending to be oblivious to his antics."I suppose I'm not my mother, so I better get going."

"And I thought someone was the smart one." He said teasingly, intimidating me with his tall frame, but I refused to feel small, so I looked him in the eyes.

"Say whatever you want. I'm saving my brain for my anatomy exam." Imran and I had been close friends since childhood, it was normal that we tease each other like that.

"Take it easy, brainiac. Little wonder you didn't return my calls last night. I was worried that's why I decided to check up on you to know whether you are still alive." I should have known that was his reason for rushing down here this early. Had it been anyone else, I would have said he was out of his mind but Imran was different. I had a special place in his heart-his reason for being extra caring and protective of me.

"As you can see I'm not dead." I shrugged. "But if you delay me any further, I might actually be dead before tomorrow," I said humorlessly, pretending to be serious as I made my way toward the door. I sensed Imran rolling his eyes behind me. He knew exactly how ambitiously driven I could be, especially when it came to my academics.

"Hannan, where are you going to this early?" That was Teslim, my older sister and my only sibling. "Won't you join us and have some breakfast?" Just as my mother had said, my sister and her kids were having breakfast at our family-sized dining table.

"No, I'm already late," I replied, sparing her a glance as I walked to the door.

"But you won't be able to concentrate on your paper if you don't eat. Aside from that, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. It is very essential for your health." Here we go again, my mother was giving one of her breakfast lectures. I opened my mouth to protest but was interrupted by my sister.

"Mama is right, you should probably eat something because we will not be responsible if you faint in that exam hall." She smiled along with Imran who was finding amusement in my displeasure. Sometimes I wondered whose side he was on whenever I was having such minor disputes with my family, especially with my mother.

"Ha ha ha, someone is trying to be funny." I looked at my sister from the corners of my eyes. "Nice try, but it was a dry joke." I winked at her and she rolled her eyes at me.

"So what do we have for breakfast?" I asked as I approached the dinner table.

"Tuwo da miya taushe (corn pudding and pumpkin soup)"Teslim announced with a mischievous smile, making me cringe even though I knew she was lying.

My mother was heading towards the kitchen with a tray in her hands and my sister's kids were flocking around her like a brood of ducklings, all for the food.

"Have you met Teslim and her kids?" I asked Imran, knowing that he was very fond of children and this was possibly the first time he was seeing my sister, after her nikkah (marriage). My eyes met the half-filled mug on the living room center table. Oh great! She had already entertained him as it was in her tradition to entertain her guests with Nana tea.

"Yeah, she hasn't changed a bit and she makes the best gurasa." His face held that familiar smile, he was very fond of her cooking back in the day.

"So, you had gurasa?" How long had he been here? I saw Imran coming to join us at the table, acting like the self-proclaimed dan uwata that he was. He was like the brother we never had.

"If you are not careful I'll eat yours too." He threatened me, aiming for my plate and I shifted its position before he even got the chance to lay his hand on it.

"You've eaten your own, didn't you? No vex me abeg (don't upset me.)" I shot him a death glare and I saw him shrink back in surrender.

"Whoa! Relax, Muchkin." He raised his hands in defense with a smug smile. "I wasn't even trying to." He took a seat on a chair beside me.

"If you call me that again, I'm going to stab your hand." I held out my fork in front of him.

"It's a relief you don't want to gouge out my eyes this time,"

"I might as well do that if you want, "I told him and took a bite from my gurasa.

"I'd love to see you try, schizophyta." He muttered. He meant that in a cool way, given he always said the 'Phyta' in the word was a pun to capture my fighting spirit.

"I heard that, Cyanophyta."

"I intended that, Spermatophyta." He retorted mockingly and I decided to ignore him, turning to face my sister.

"Where is your husband, by the way?" I asked as I got closer to her to pick something from her plate and tossed it in my mouth. It was just a potato chip that was hanging on her fork, yet she had to slap my hand. I knew Imran was enjoying the show as I withdrew my hand instantly.

"Oh, he went back to Kano Last night." She answered. Teslim was married to my cousin, Ahmad who lived in Kano. So, we only got to see her once in a while. And now that she had kids she rarely even came to visit us, perhaps once in a blue moon. They dropped in on us the previous day and I didn't get the chance to talk with Ahmad as I was busy upstairs studying for my exam.

"Did he get me any of those abayas he promised me?" I grinned greedily and she cast an evil eye at me. She was always jealous of my closeness to Ahmad who was my favorite cousin.

"He did, I'm too lazy to unpack my bags now."

"Don't worry yourself." A giant grin spread across my face. "We'll do that when I get back from school" I couldn't contain my joy. I sensed Imran trying to steal something from my plate, I turned to him and his hand froze there. I was about to say something when a voice startled me.

"JASEEM! Get down from there and stop calling your sister names." That was my mother shouting at the kids. She was having a tough time with them in the kitchen.

"Yaseerah, please do not set my kitchen on fire, drop that lighter now." Anytime those kids were around my mum was always screaming because those kids were quite stubborn.

"Yaya(big sister) your children are going to kill Mum," I called out to Teslim as I headed toward the kitchen to see the mayhem they had caused in there.

"Umma, did you hear that, she said you're going to die." She called, trailing behind me.

"What! I didn't say that." I narrowed my eyes on her. She was now standing beside me at the kitchen door. Meanwhile, Imran was waiting for me in the car. I didn't notice when he left the dinner table, but I noticed that my gurasa was gone as well.

The kitchen floor was covered in cassava flour and my mother looked angry. "Who's going to clean up this mess ?" Teslim gasped at the chaos that her children had caused.

"Well, not me." I smiled mischievously. I said goodbye to my mother and kissed her on her forehead. I waved at the kids before heading out of the apartment and got in the car with Imran.

I had planned to finish my breakfast before leaving, but there was no time. I was already late. The University was about an hour's drive from my house. Thankfully, Imran came with his car. I would not be wasting any extra time at the bus station.

I took the passenger's seat, placing my bag on my lap. I informed Imran about my exam and he assured me that we were going to make it to school before nine O'Clock.

"So, are you clear on the order of events for Saturday night?" He asked and it took me a moment to realize what he was talking about. His elder brother who lived in America was coming home that day after being away for years and they were going to throw him a welcome party on Saturday.

Imran had invited me but honestly, I didn't know if I'd be able to attend it. I was not a party person and my mother certainly would not allow me to go to a party of any sort, especially a night party.

"Well...I'm not sure..." I hesitated for a moment."I'd love to attend, but my mum will never allow me to go to a night party." I came clean and searched his face for any sign of disappointment but there was none."And I haven't told her about it yet." I quickly added, unsure if that would change anything.

"Oh! I understand. I know how it is with your mum and I wouldn't want you to get into trouble with her" His tone had changed a bit, a little deeper. I felt like there was no need to explain myself any further because he already knew the kind of person my mother was, always particular about religion and manners.

I sighed, taking a quick look at my reflection in the side mirror. "If I can find a way to tell her without her blowing a fuse, I will be glad." My mind drifted to that one time my secondary school friend, Caroline had invited me to her birthday party and I went without my mother's permission. When she found out about it she was so angry that she called me all sorts of abusive names. To add salt to my wound, she had to report me to the elders in our family. She had warned me to stay away from Caroline. And ever since I haven't seen or heard from her again.

"I don't think it's a good idea to inform her about it, you never can tell what her reaction may be. You don't want to stir her emotions."

"Oh! What a discouraging reply." I huffed, glancing at him from the corners of my eyes.

"I'm not discouraging you. I'm just being honest. Look, our mothers are naturally protective of their daughters. And there's nothing you or I can do about it"

I knew he was right, but I felt like my mother didn't want me to grow up.

"I'll try just this once. And if she said no, then I'll just be a good girl and......" I paused, not wanting to say anything that would portray the idea that I was satisfied with my mother caging me at home. I was glad that Imran understood the whole situation and didn't judge me. "I'll let you know the outcome before Saturday, "I promised.

"Alright! That is settled."

Parties were not really my thing but I did feel the need to attend this one. I didn't think it was fair to turn down his offer. After all, he had been nothing but nice to me. He was a staunch family friend, and his father was an intimate companion to my father.

Imran discussed his family with me during the entire drive. He talked about their family secrets, some of which I knew. They were not really secrets but since their family was a royal one there were some sacred things peculiar to their bloodline alone.

"So, you're saying Zayn...oh sorry, Ya Zayn (big brother Zayn) is the heir apparent to the throne?"

"Exactly... that's what I just said"

"I know, but I don't understand. Your dad is not the Emir of Kano. Your uncle is. So, how is Zayn your uncle's successor?" I gave him a scrutinizing look.

"This whole confusion is related to something my dad did back then when he was much younger. I'll tell you about it in detail some other time"I was excited at this moment just by the mere thought of what he had to tell me. I was curious about his family.

"How long has Uncle Zayn been in the United States?" Zayn was Imran's elder brother who had studied abroad. He was a surgeon. We usually addressed him as Uncle Zayn because he was much older than us, and in my country, it is a sign of respect to call anyone older than you Uncle or Aunty regardless of your relationship with them.

"He has been there ever since he left home at the age of fourteen." I tried to form an image of fourteen-year-old Zayn in my mind, but I couldn't picture him. I knew that I used to know someone by that name. Zayn was Ahmad's best friend. As a child, I grew up seeing both of them together. All that was left of him were just blank memories.

"Do you have any other siblings apart from ya Zayn and Aliya?" I inquired as I pictured his sister, Aliya who was a final year student of the University I was attending. I had only met her once and I could hardly remember what she looked like.

"No, I don't." He raised a brow at me. "Kin manta da mu (you really have forgotten about us)" He accused me and I frowned.

"Don't look at me like that, it's been twelve years. I was seven when your family relocated to Abuja." We had all been living in Kano all our lives, until two years ago when we moved to Abuja after my father's death, all thanks to a good samaritan who offered my mother a job at a renowned private hospital.

"I didn't say anything, no bite me abeg (Please don't bite me)." He gave me a defensive look and I smiled. Silence fell upon us.

"But you hardly talk about Aliya." I decided to break the silence, my thoughts strayed to Zayn. I imagined that he had grown into a man, just like my cousin. "You're always talking about Zayn." I couldn't even remember what he said about him. I had issues remembering people that I wasn't close to, especially if the person didn't pique my interest.

He chuckled "Aliya and I....our relationship is kind of complicated."

"Is it that bad?"

"No, not really. Just that I love my elder brother more. You can put it that way."

"Yeah, at least that is what you had me believe." I smiled.

"No worry," Imran screamed in excitement and I shook my head at him. "Just calm down, by the time you see him, you will understand why this party is going to be a huge one."

"Shut up and drive," I said and we exchanged an animated grin. "You are being a hypeman all of a sudden."

"No be lie sha! (It's true though)"I heard another scream from him, so I turned away, blocking my ears with my index finger.

Imran kept praising his elder brother all the way, saying that he was a great man and the best brother in the whole world. I could hear him speak but I paid little attention to what he was saying as I was a little agitated about my anatomy exam. Not that I wasn't prepared, but there was this nervousness I felt, I just couldn't explain. I was simply scared of failure.

Imran pulled into the students' parking lot when we got to the campus and we both said the salaam(goodbye) and went our separate ways. I forgot to ask him if he had an exam.

★★★★★

ASSALAAM ALAIKUM!!!

This book is undergoing reconstruction, if you are reading it for the second time, beware, there are some minor changes. It has not been thoroughly edited and, therefore may contain lots of grammatical errors, inappropriate use of punctuation, and likes. So, I'm pleading with you to bear with me.

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