GREAT EXPECTATION

★★★★★

Meanwhile, Zayn was feeling an intolerable soreness rising in the pit of his stomach. It had been a terrible week for him. It had been five days since his near-death experience with the assassin and ever since then he had not been himself, he just had not known peace since the incident. He was given 48 hours to release Yusuf and it was already four extra days since then, yet he hadn't heard from the masked man or the assassin. He felt himself trapped under a sea of negative emotions and tangled thoughts that could almost erupt in his head.

He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't realize that they had arrived at the masjid. It was only when one of the women spoke that his breath caught in his throat, and he suddenly couldn't find his voice. One of them was praising his driving skills. He just smiled and parked the car somewhere and everyone got out, save Zainab who cradled baby Fahad in her arms. Zayn saw her looking tired from carrying the child as she tried to get out. He came down from the car and walked up to her.

"What happened, Zee?" He had asked when he saw her bend over, trying to hoist the little one behind her back.

"I want to carry him on my back." She said, holding out a wrapper to him so he could assist her in binding the baby to her back. Lucky for her, Zayn was against such local practice because what if the child fell in the process and sustained an injury? Instead of doing what she requested, he collected the sleeping baby into his arms.

"Zainab, what are you doing there?" Zayn heard Hafsah's voice approaching from a close distance. "Won't you go and join the others to work." She asked and he knew not to look at her, but he looked anyway. She was always looking resilient and simple in an alluring way. She didn't seem to change with age, but there was this permanent sad look in her eyes. Something that gradually intensified in the past few days. His best friend's doing, if someone might ask. Ahmad had branded his mother-in-law by sending her daughter back home. No mother would like that for her child. Looking at her at that moment, it was almost as if he could read the pain in her eyes. He knew everyone's pain but nobody knew his.

He didn't want to imagine her reaction if she learned about her daughter's health condition. He recalled how he had reluctantly promised Teslim not to tell anyone about it, he thought he was doing the wrong thing for her, but seeing things from a clear point of view, he realized Teslim might be doing everyone a favour by keeping the truth to herself.

"Zayn, my child, didn't you say you wanted to see your uncle?"She asked, a bit concerned about the baby becoming a disturbance to him. Zayn nodded in response.

"Then hand over the baby to her. She will take care of him. She insisted on carrying him along. The child may mess you up considering he's not wearing a diaper." With that, he had managed to croak before he cleared his throat, then responded with a smile.

"Ya Ummi, don't worry about that. Are you sure this child will not be a distraction to the cleaning process?"

"He will only be a distraction to the one who brought him along."She said almost scoldingly, turning to look at Zainab. He smiled at that before releasing the child to her. Then as he thrust his car keys in the pocket of his thobe he watched as they strode toward the female musalla. When they were out of sight, he turned around and took the pathway that led to the men's side of the mosque.

As he paced in that direction, he took in the view of the imperial landscape of the masjid which delighted the eyes. The grounds were ornate with beautiful topiary and tall palm trees. The main building was an awe-inspiring structure with several domes, towering minarets, column pillars, and marbled floor. The mosque was a splendid sight, but somehow it wasn't enough to help him escape the pain in his heart. The image of his father's pleading eyes, requesting him to consider his choice kept flashing before his eyes. And the guilt that he kept avoiding the old man, wishing that they never touch that topic again held him hostage.

Lost in his thoughts again, he didn't realize when he entered the masjid. There was this aura of spirituality and serenity surrounding the place. No one was in the mosque, save for two young men who sat at the back reciting the glorious Qur'an. His sight instantly drew him toward the mihrab where the Imams pray. He ambled quietly toward there and sat in front of the mimbar where no one was. The place was quiet and that was exactly where he wanted to be, away from this world and its troubles. As he stood there, in front of his Lord, he observed two units of salah and as always made dua upon himself and his entire household. After the prayer, he sat there, reciting the Qur'an to distract himself from thinking.

"Hayak Allah (May Allah preserve your life)" A voice cut through the air. Zayn looked up to see a tall man who was cladded in a bay cloak, wearing an upper smile that resembled his father's. Just the man he was waiting for, his uncle, Sheikh Jaffar Ali, the chief Imam of that very grand masjid.

"Wa anta, abqaak Allah (and you too, may Allah have you remain among us)" Zayn replied, closing the Qur'an in front of him as his uncle came forward to join him on the floor.

"May Allah grant you an honorable mention in this world and the hereafter." Sheikh Jaffar added, smiling at his nephew.

"Ameeen," Zayn whispered, his eyes fixed on the floor where his phone was. He wished he had even better words to reciprocate his uncle's praises but unfortunately, his mind was preoccupied with other things, and he couldn't come up with an intelligent response.

"I spoke to your father. He was worried about you." The sheikh said, placing a hand on Zayn's shoulder. He was well aware of the reason his uncle had summoned him over. "How are you, my son?"

Zayn nodded, "I am okay, Alhamdulillah." He mumbled and lowered his head, staring at the space between him and his uncle, not knowing what else to say. He felt his uncle patting him lightly on the back of his shoulder.

"There will come a time in a man's life when he'll have to do things that he never wanted to do. When those moments come for you Zayn, know that you have truly become a man and you'll have to take your responsibilities seriously." The old man spoke sagely, making Zayn bury his face in his palm, and then rubbed his eyes gently.

To Zayn, the topic wasn't worth his time if only his brother wasn't involved, if only he didn't have an interest in the girl everything would have gone perfectly fine. He knew it was selfish to think that he couldn't look over his pleasure and grant his father's wish. Life was too short for him to offer such a huge sacrifice, even his father once said that. The thought that he was too good to be thrown to face that much grief made him feel self-centered.

"Can we take a walk outside?" The sheikh offered when he noticed his nephew getting lost in his thoughts. Zayn agreed and they both stood up and strolled outside the building grounds in silence, along a lonely pathway until the Sheikh decided to initiate the conversation.

"Is there something bothering you?" Jaffar asked, examining him. "I've been the one talking since, you haven't said a word. Is there something you want to share?" Zayn sighed and looked up at the sky far above them as white cloud dust cast glorious shades against the blue.

"I know you are aware that Father wants me to settle down with someone." He spoke, his voice guarded."I don't know if you also know who the person is."

Jaffar's eyes knitted together with interest, his hands tied behind his back, "Of course, he told me. Isn't she Saleh's daughter, Hannan?"Zayn's heart twinged at the mention of her name. Everyone Knew her!

"In that case, you are aware that she had been betrothed to me from birth."He said slowly, each word heavy to pronounce.

"Yes, I'm well aware of that. I know everything." He asserted, raising Zayn's suspicion. He doubted if his uncle knew anything at all. If he knew what was at stake, he wouldn't be so calm. He clearly was clueless just like everyone else!

"Then you must also be aware of how to undo the ritual." He voiced his thoughts, not looking at his uncle but staring overhead as they approached a bench that sat under the shade of a large tree.

Jaffar furrowed his eyebrows as he heard what he had asked."I know nothing of this. It is unheard of for a betrothal ritual to be canceled."

Zayn avoided his reaction and sighed bitterly, then went ahead to ask the question that had been on his mind, "If I do not marry her, are there any consequences?" He knew nothing of this tradition, and if anything he wanted out of it unharmed. If only he knew that a betrothal ritual was nothing more than mere pronouncements and declarations of family ties.

His uncle gestured toward the bench in front of them and they sat there before he began."The way kings marry in our culture is quite unique and sacred. First, there is the betrothal rites which are done the day the girl is born and then there are the binding rites which entails the marriage itself, this is done to seal both fates together."

Zayn stared at the ground in front of him, he was no longer listening to what his uncle was saying. He never quite understood why this thing was suddenly hard. But while he thought of his friend, he believed that all hope was not lost yet. He had come to a final decision to let Omar marry her in his place.

"Zayn, you are the crowned prince of this great emirate, and as such you must honour our tradition. Even the religion of Islam honours tradition as long as it does not go against humanity or contradict the religion itself."

Zayn remained silent, listening to the sheikh as he tried to convince him regarding what he and his father had discussed. He knew his father had told his uncle everything but leaving Imran's paternity bit out of it. Truly he was glad to have someone to talk to who would listen to him, but it was no use telling him what he already knew, and much to his pain, there were so many things he couldn't tell and because of that he was certain that his uncle could never truly understand him. The Sheikh was only doing what his brother had sent him to do-to persuade his son to accept his offer.

"And yes, there is nothing wrong if you do not marry her, it's just that none of the seven kings from this family has ever broken this chain of our tradition. I don't believe there is such a thing as undoing a betrothal ritual. It is your decision whether to accept her or not." That was all Zayn needed to hear. He noticed his uncle paused to look at him, confused.

"But if I may ask, Son," the sheikh held his gaze."What is the reason for your disinterest in the girl? Saleh's girl is well-mannered and steadfast upon her deen."

Zayn had to say something, he had to give reasons, but what could he possibly say, knowing that even his uncle was in favour of the marriage? And truly there was nothing wrong with Hannan, except that she was too young for him and he felt that she was quite untamed. If someone might ask, she was the most disrespectful woman he had ever known.

Seconds ticked by, his uncle still demanded answers and his silence wasn't helping.

Then Zayn cleared his throat as if a hard lump had lodged itself in there, stopping the words he was about to speak from coming out."I'm in love with someone else." He confessed, his voice low as he pronounced the words.

He looked up at Jaffar and they exchanged a grave look. He didn't feel comfortable discussing Aylin with his uncle but he needed someone to understand his dilemma. "I'm very fond of her and I prefer her above all."He completed, surprised at himself for sharing this vital detail with someone else, other than his intimate companion. It took Omar days to fetch this information out of him, and yet there he was, pouring out things he had failed to admit to himself to his uncle.

Jaffar saw the dismay in his eyes and realized what troubled him."Did you tell your father about this girl?"

"No"

"Why is that?"

"I didn't think it was necessary, seeing that he already had other plans for me."

"What about your mother?"

"She is no longer in support of the girl. She also has plans of her own. She is urging me to consider one of her younger cousins, Nadia." Zayn chuckled at that realizing his mother's choice had no chance with him at all.

"Why would Fatimah withdraw her support of your preference?"

"I don't know." Zayn leaned back on the bench. "But she did say she didn't want a single mother who is divorced as a daughter-in-law."

"So this girl you speak of, she is divorced?"

"Yes,"

Jaffar's eyes widened in surprise at his response. Zayn noticed his reaction but it didn't bother him much. He loved Aylin and he was not ashamed to show it.

His uncle had seen Aylin the night they met at his welcome party and he believed she had to be the one. Of course, he didn't see anything wrong with his nephew's choice except that she wasn't fully covered and she didn't seem like someone who was upright on the path of their religion.

"That's not all I wish to tell you."Zayn almost winced as he recalled the bitter truth surrounding this whole matter. "Imran and Khalifa also have eyes for the girl."

"So you are in a competition?" His uncle smiled and Zayn shook his head. This wasn't a competition, it was a battle of great expectations. He told his uncle everything from Imran and Omar's end, leaving his father's little secret out of it.

"Some women can't even find a good suitor and one girl has three eligible men at her mercy." The Sheikh said jokingly, laughing in the process and Zayn joined him, laughing more at himself than the joke itself.

"Isn't that a good sign that there is something special about this young woman?" Sheikh Jaffar pointed out, at the time their laughter faded but Zayn didn't see reason with him. Instead, he just stared on, dissociated at the thought of so many things he couldn't say. Like, how he felt a strange urge to protect her but hoped he could do so without marrying her.

"So what are you going to do now?" His uncle's voice broke through his thoughts.

"I don't know." Zayn sighed. "If I marry the girl, Imran will not be happy with me. From the way he spoke about her, I know he isn't going to marry anyone else besides her, and Khalifa on the other hand, would ask unsettling questions that can strain our friendship."He deduced but that was not the only reason, there were many more reasons he couldn't marry her. "And then there is my father with his great expectations of me but I can't fulfill his wish. But if I go ahead and marry Aylin, I don't know if he'd ever be happy with me." He paused.

"So you want to be on a safer side then?" Jaffar asked and Zayn closed his eyes, placing his elbows on his knees.

"Yes, I want everyone to be satisfied with my decision." He leaned forward and supported his chin and temples in his palms.

Sheikh Jaffar stared at his nephew, taking note of his last sentence. The words just painted a sad picture of the situation he was in. He had turned out to be a great man putting others' happiness before his. As an uncle, a father figure, and his guardian, he would gladly support any decision Zayn took so long he did go against their faith. But as a leader and an altruist, he had to consider all options, see the outcomes, and help him make the right decisions.

"While the pursuit of beauty and happiness in life is always ideal, the consequences of one's actions must be thought out and the impact of one's decisions, beyond oneself, must also be carefully considered before acting on any impulse." Zayn nodded at the sheikh's words, seeing the wisdom in them but not knowing what to do with them because deep down he felt conflicted about the whole matter. Only he knew what he was going through.

"Gaskiya (honestly)," The sheikh continued, glancing at his watch. "This is a complicated yet delicate matter. But I can see you still aren't able to reach a final decision." The time was eleven on the dot and he wanted to round up his speech so he'd go and conduct the Khutbah since it was almost time.

"Seeing that you prefer someone else, I'll suggest you weigh your options carefully. It might take some time to reach the right decision and I'm sure if you seek Allah's guidance you will make the right one. Just be thoughtful and prayerful. Don't forget to do your istikhara (Salah of guidance)"His uncle left him with those rich words and they both went back inside the mosque. The Jumu'ah period came and everyone observed their usual congressional prayer.

*****

After the Jumu'ah service, some family friends, and relatives appeared to have coincidentally graced the Ali's with their presence. The house was filled with visitors coming in great numbers to greet their grandmother who was discharged from the hospital a few days back. It was a perfect atmosphere to mingle, and the air hung heavy with the aroma of delight and harmony.

Aylin, Omar, and Ahmad were walking in the direction of a gazebo that sat in the shadow of a huge fig tree. They spoke at length about Zayn's last day at school before his departure to California. She was eager to hear the story from a different person other than Zayn himself and Omar took the pleasure to narrate exactly what had happened that day.

"No, stop!" Aylin said to him, filling the air with her laughter. "He'd told me that story so many times that I've memorized it! He said that day after your lawless display at school you boys barely escaped hell."

Ahmad chuckled at that, he was walking beside his friend, barely contributing to the conversation-so many things in his mind.

"One by one we flew over the fence like fugitives," Omar made gestures with his hands, enjoying the glee on her face as she watched him. "We ran off to take refuge at Ahmad's place which was the closest to our school."

"I can hardly believe Zayn had been so reckless in his youthful days," Aylin said, smiling at the thought of him drawing his teacher's face on the surface of their school wall. "The first time I met him, he looked like someone who had been groomed for success all his life. He doesn't look like someone with an irresponsible past, he is so different now that I could hardly believe these things you say about him."

"He doesn't seem to have changed much. There is a wild beast inside of him," Omar Interjected, his voice tinged with mischief. Aylin chuckled at that, shaking her head."Trust me, you don't want to know what he does in secret." He joked, convinced that there was a side to Zayn that only he knew which was kind of true. At least, she then knew that Omar was truly the funny one amongst them, just as Zayn had said.

"He was truly a nasty kid," Ahmad acknowledged, making Aylin look over at him. She took note of his brown skin, his gentle frame, straight nose, long limbs, and his short hair, a little thicker than the usual military crew cut. "But people do change, especially the younger generation. Maturity has turned him into a very responsible man, a modest one at that." Aylin raised her eyebrows, wondering if he was just being polite, but she had heard just enough to know how much Ahmad respected Zayn.

"Besides," he added, "in the Arabic language the meaning of his name is grace, so he has no choice but to develop a beautiful personality that befits his name."

"I never thought of that."She smiled, thinking that truly the name suited him.

As they approached the gazebo, Aylin noticed that Ahmad had a habit of picking up twigs that he'd play with before tossing them away. She liked the way he carried himself so at ease. It was obvious that he was intelligent and highly accomplished yet he was humble and gentle, not self-assured or thought highly of himself in the way she had come to perceive men like Zayn and Omar.

"And we'd be proud to have you personally write his biography one day," Omar uttered from beside her and she turned to look at him, surprise etched on her face.

"Oh, I will," She laughed, noticing that Omar also seemed to be more serious and less flirtatious than she remembered from their first meeting. His interest in her writing encouraged her to share her work with them.

"Anyway," She added, "I have something to share with both of you if you don't mind." She announced and just that instant Omar's phone rang, stealing his attention from Aylin. At that moment they were already under the roof of the gazebo when he excused himself to attend to an urgent call.

"Well, I don't mind," Ahmad said as he sank into a nearby couch which prompted Aylin to sit on the adjacent seat.

"I've been working on something," She began, reaching into her bag and bringing out some papers."I need a third eye to help me check this." She handed the papers to him. "It's a story about a girl from up north. Being an indigene, I hope you could share your candid opinion about the characters. I don't feel like I'm doing justice to them, looking at it from a cultural perspective." She told him that she was there to publish her third book which was her first time writing about the Kanuri people. That was Ahmad's tribe.

He leaned forward, smiling at the thought that she had given him the honour of reviewing her work. She was indeed a clever lady and never for once flaunted her knowledge despite her achievements as someone who had authored two books and so many articles.

"It would be an honour to have a glimpse into your masterpiece." He said without meeting her eyes. She noticed that Ahmad was one of those religious men who was keen on lowering his gaze. She knew Zayn wasn't just being polite when he said the man was a modest one even though much of what he said was his personal opinion.

"I'll take that as a compliment." She laughed lightly, considering her next words carefully. "I do not want to bore you with the many reasons I want you to review this tale, just dive right in and see for yourself. It's nothing more than jumbled thoughts inked on a paper."

Ahmad laughed at that. He'd like to assume that she was being humble but there was a bit of sincerity in her words. It couldn't be that she lacked confidence in her work, perhaps she was going through a phase. "If I read a book and I remember the author's name, then it's a good book."He began with some words of encouragement to keep the conversation going.

"How do you know a good book?" She asked and wondered what he was really thinking.

He flipped over the first page, staring at it instead of reading it, and then he said, "A good book can change a person."

She nodded in agreement. Noticing how his voice carried a wave of an unspoken emotion. They said a good writer could smell a story from miles away but Aylin saw stories in everything and she was looking at one. "So tell me," she clasped her hands lightly with one leg crossed above the other. "How do you know a good author?"

"Good authors carve their names in hearts, making us find our own thoughts and feelings in a language that strikes us as extraordinary, affecting us in ways that are unknown to us."

She smiled, gazing at him for a safe moment. She liked the way she saw through his words. Those were not ordinary words, they were rooted somewhere, in his heart if she wasn't mistaken.

"Is someone close to you a writer?" She asked, catching a smile at the corner of his lips.

"My wife has a flair for writing." He confirmed her thoughts. "She wrote a few romances but she was never confident enough to show the world her thoughts." He was the only one who knew this about Teslim and this was his first time talking about her talent to anyone.

Aylin smiled at that and thought his wife reminded her of herself. She recalled the conversation she once had with Zayn when she started her writing journey. She had told him about her little struggle with her work, the pain of being divorced, and horrible college food.

I think the first thing you need as a writer is confidence. And of course, you should write, Aylin. You are an amazing writer, and you have a unique voice.

You should know that I've been through a lot and I'm still going through a lot. Life isn't as pretty for me as it is for people of my status. I'm afraid people will cringe at how messed up I am upstairs.

For every writer there is a particular audience meant just for you. Not everyone sees the world from your angle. That is why you should write what you want them to read, not just what you think they want to read.

"When I started writing my first book," She said and Ahmad sat up to look at her, sensing she wanted to share something of her life. "I was ashamed someone would see how messed up I was up there. Zayn gave me the confidence to show the world the stories in my soul." She uncrossed her legs and watched as his eyes swept her for a brief second before he cast his gaze away.

"Your wife might just need someone to give her a pat on the back and say, it's fine to have a different frame of mind, let the world feel you through your words." She finished saying and a warm silence settled peacefully in the hair during which Ahmad thought he could get her to talk to his wife. He had tried convincing her to come out of her shell but it yielded no effect. It was likely Aylin and his wife would get along well because he thought he had finally found a writer who had walked a mile in her shoes. His heart raced with excitement, knowing that he had found something to talk to his wife about. At least they were on good terms again since the last time he saw her. He couldn't wait for everything to go back to normal between them.

"So what was it like, when you read her book?" Aylin's voice plucked him out of his trance. He took a second to organize his thoughts before he spoke.

"It felt like there was a different world inside her head. Her style of writing might not be the prettiest but when I read her first book, I experienced the different ways love can be cruel."

"That must have been pretty intriguing."She saw it in his eyes, his woman meant the earth to him. She wondered why he was getting married to another woman the next day if he loved his wife so much. She knew it would be rude to intrude in his affairs so she discarded the thought. She placed an arm on the armrest of the couch in the process her phone fell.

"I'm sorry," Ahmad said, looking concerned and offering her a smile as she reached to pick it up.

"Don't mention it," She laughed, touched by his concern and simplicity. Northern men, she noticed, were in the habit of saying sorry to women even if what happened was not their fault.

She looked at the screen, then she looked down, her eyes caught sight of Zayn in a patch of shade, thrown by the fig trees. He was heading toward them with some majestic steps along the granite-stoned path.

"Oh, I see, the both of you are getting along just fine without my permission, huh?"Zayn said from a short distance.

"Oh please! Be nice."Aylin countered playfully.

"Be nice, to this GOAT?" The corner of his lips turned into a sly smirk as took in Ahmad's view. "Don't worry, we know how we run our things." He extended his hand to him.

Ahmad collected it into his palms and shook him tight, a wicked smile playing on his lips."Hafa na (how are you)" he said. They began to speak animatedly in Pidgin English instead of their usual formal Islamic greeting.

"I dey (I'm good)." Zayn reciprocated, mirroring his energy as he sat beside him on the couch. "Be like she has cast me, this one you are smiling like that." He leaned back, legs crossed and arms gracefully spread out on the headrest of the couch.

"She didn't say anything you didn't do."Ahmad laughed. She gave them a sidelong glance. She liked how Zayn was acting a little colloquial with his friend, a part of him that she might only see once in a lifetime.

"I feel like I was the center of discussion here." He announced, making both of them smile cheerfully at him.

"Really," She raised an eyebrow. "Don't you trust me with your secrets?" She decided to play along with the men.

"I don't trust you when it comes to this man," He pointed a finger at Ahmad. "He has those eyes that will have you confess anything."

"Talk about the lasso of truth." She sent him a bright grin, recalling their not-so-grand cinematic adventure at college when she had once made Zayn watch a DC series.

"That's not a thing," Zayn said, also recollecting how he didn't like the Wonder Woman, calling her weapon a toy.

"Oh, yes it is." She argued.

"I rest my case then." He raised his hands in defeat, pulling himself up."Anyways," Zayn clapped his hands together. "Sorry to interrupt the both of you. We have a meeting with the boys. I hope you don't mind if I borrow him for a minute."

"Alright, no wahala!" She expressed in their colloquial language, making Zayn raise a playful brow at her. "I'll see you some other time." She stood up, wanting to take her leave.

"No, you can stay," Zayn said, stopping her with a gesture of his hands. "We'll use the other side."

"It's fine, Zayn." She insisted quietly. "I was about to go and see your mother." She bade them goodbye and he saw her left, her hair was tied up in an updo.

Some minutes later, Omar returned, accompanied by Mohammed, Shifu, and Christian. After addressing each other in a not-so-kind way, as they usually did, they started a brutal discussion that almost turned the roof upside down. For Zayn, these guys were still wild animals who refused to grow up. It didn't seem like they had reunited with each other after a long time.

The only person missing from the group was Jake and he wished he never got to know what had happened to him. He distracted himself by talking more with Chris asking about his business and family. After a while, Zayn called his mother and told her to send the housemaids to entertain his friends with appetizing meals.

Moments later, the girls arrived balancing silver trays in their hands but instead of the maids, Zayn saw Hannan and Nadia approaching them. His heart shifted at the sight of her and for a second he wondered what she was doing there at their house. And why would his mother send them when they had maids for that kind of job?

"Look at her lips, it's just begging for me to kiss it." Omar complimented, leaning toward Zayn who was to his right. "Hannan, I mean." He whispered against his ears and Zayn stiffened up.

"You must be high on something cheap." Zayn frowned, not liking his vulgar language. Omar ignored him, and on and on he went. Zayn sat watching the girl out of the corner of his eyes as she placed the tray on a stool in front of him. She disappeared almost immediately, as fast as limbs could carry her.

"She is so shy, I can't help," Omar spoke of her excellent traits and judgment rained down on him, along with tormenting fury in Zayn's heart.

"Khalifa stop, just stop it." He mumbled through gritted teeth. He couldn't pretend like he wasn't affected. He just couldn't bear it that someone whose name was attached to his would be spoken of in such a manner. Yes, he hadn't given his consent yet, but his pride was involved as long she was his betrothed.

"C'mon! Someone cannot play with you again." Omar thought this was a joke until he saw the blazing fire in Zayn's eyes.

"Omar, please! stop it." He was calm, and despite his steady voice, Omar saw something dark in his demeanor. He never called him by his name unless he was truly irritated. "Anything you have to say concerning that girl, just keep it inside, I don't want to hear it." He warned yet Omar didn't know when to play.

The others didn't pay attention to what the both of them were mumbling about. They waited expectantly as Nadia dished their food.

"Talking about pervert, I think you truly are..." Zayn wanted to perish his friend with some vile utterance but something stopped.

"Go on, say it." Looking at Omar at the time, he didn't think whatever he wanted to say would have any effect on him. He was bent on being an animal.

"You truly are a pervert." He completed, his words were like music to his ear.

"Subhan Allah!" Omar gasped, enjoying the spite in his expression."I thought it would be something more insulting."

"May Allah have mercy on you."Zayn shook his head.

"Why not, when I have good intentions toward her." He articulated, still thinking it was only a joke as he reached for a glass of juice that was being served to him by Nadia.

"The road to hell is richly paved with good intentions," Zayn retorted, a little louder this time. It was loud enough for Shifu to hear.

"What are you two gossiping about?" He asked cunningly. Omar would have loved to fill him in but Zayn looked like he was shooting lasers from his eyes. He turned away, leaving Shifu obscured.

Zayn stared at the sweating juice in his hand, his thoughts racing against time. There he was, thinking that his friend would help him out of this hay sack he'd found himself in, it turned out he was wrong. It wasn't the girl who needed growing up, it was Omar. He thought he had changed but he had not, in fact, nothing had changed about him after all these years of their friendship. He still liked to play around with girls and there was no doubt he'd do the same with Hannan. Now it was not only her life he needed to protect, but her dignity and pride as well.

*****

Shifu decided to leave after having dinner at sunset because of the business calls he had received. Ahmad and Zayn got up to walk him to his car and Omar, Chris, and Mohammed remained in the gazebo, having another round of dessert. After saying goodbye to Shifu, and making sure his car had disappeared out of view, he retraced his steps, followed by Ahmad who noticed a change in his mood.

To him, Zayn seemed a little disturbed and after asking him what was wrong, his answer had been a shake of his head. Ahmad was certain that something was absolutely wrong but he didn't want to talk about it. He knew that Zayn was so good at hiding his feelings but he seemed to not have control over this very one considering it was evident that he was stressed. He would sometimes rush to Zayn with his problems, seeking solutions but when Zayn was faced with similar issues he'd rather keep to himself. This made him question the integrity of their friendship. Had he not been a good friend?

Ahmad lifted his head to see his family, Zayn's mother and her co-wife, Hajiya Maryan, and her girls sauntering out of the house. He decided to wait, urging Zayn to do the same. They both walked over to where their cars were parked and waited for their families.

"So your cousin seems to be intentional about her deen," Zayn commented, noticing that Hannan was completely covered in what looked like a black abaya and a peach jersey veil. "I'm not talking about your wife." He teased, a small effort to make his friend look up at his wife.

"Yes, she is." Ahmad agreed, leaning back against Hajiya Maryam's car. "What do you expect from someone who has grown up on my watch?" His eyes met his wife who was walking beside her sister, wearing matching outfits.

"I almost thought you had gone soft on her." Zayn snickered, making Ahmad smile.

The small throng arrived at the parking space. He saw Teslim at least she wasn't looking as gloomy as the last time he saw her. Then inadvertently, his eyes swept her sister who looked somewhat upset. He hated that he was noticing everything about her. Like how she wouldn't look his way, more like he was aware that she was aware he was looking at her. Zayn looked away, unknown to him, Hannan was facing an internal battle of her own.

"Toh, Allah ya baku albarka (okay, may God bless you all.)" He heard his mother greeting Mrs. Saleh for the millionth time. "Thank you so much for coming." She shifted her attention to Hannan, concerned. Everyone spoke at the top of their voices in such a way that none could be heard clearly but somehow he managed to catch what his mother had said to Hannan.

"What is it, my dear?" Hannan shook her head in response. "Don't you want to go home?" Zayn doubted if that was the reason for her discomfort or annoyance. His mother seemed to like her very much. Wasn't that a good sign? An uneasy feeling settled in his chest.

"C'mon, Mother, let her be. She's probably tired." Zayn interrupted them, unable to keep up with his mother showering love and concern on her. He hoped she wouldn't see his act as jealousy. Seeing his mother treating her so kindly made him feel like they were already a couple.

The mother smiled at her son and said goodbye to Hannan who was about to climb into Hajiya Maryam's car. Ahmad went over to greet his mother-in-law and wife who had been talking to Bola. Upon that realization, Zayn walked up to his stepmother who was talking to Ahmad's mother. He greeted the women respectfully and afterward accompanied his stepmother back to the house. He noticed the woman wasn't feeling too strong so he assisted her in climbing onto their porch

*****

Zayn and his friends had returned from the masjid after their Maghrib prayer. Omar watched as Zayn disappeared out of sight and with that his little hope of talking with Ahmad alone was fulfilled. It wasn't long until they arrived at the gazebo and he began to pour out his intentions toward Hannan.

"Bro, you don't mean it?" Ahmad enunciated and Omar wasn't surprised to see his friend staring at him in disbelief, his expression masked with amusement and sheer interest.

"I'm serious, I like her so much." Omar sat up, making his friend laugh once more.

"Ah ah! Khalifa, "Ahmad couldn't believe his ears. "na you dey talk this thing? (are you the one talking like this?)"

"I'm not joking, I'm serious." His tone was firm.

An amused smile made its way to Ahmad's lips "Wait, have you told her?" He relaxed his posture.

"Well, not yet, I'm still taking things slowly," Omar confessed and Ahmad couldn't be more amazed.

"Guy! Wetin you see for this girl sef (What did you see in her?)" He chuckled, thinking that the girl was too young for his friend. "I don't understand you o, I'm shocked." He wanted to believe that his friend was just messing around with him but his following words carried an air of sincerity.

"I'm just telling you, so you won't say I took you unaware." He said and didn't seem casual about it. "I'm head over heels for your sister."

"No wahala, I've heard you." Ahmad nodded and leaned back in his seat. "By the way, I hope you really like her and not just that you want to play around with her." He had to ask because of the kind of person his friend was.

"Bro, why will you say something like that?" Omar frowned, thinking his friend still didn't take him seriously.

"No, tell me the truth."Ahmad sounded more serious now as he sat up. He wouldn't take it lightly with Omar if he toyed with his cousin's heart. Hannan was too precious for his kind.

"Ahmad," Omar sighed, "I like her beyond her physical attributes." Omar probably hated himself at that moment because he was finding it difficult to convince Ahmad. He didn't expect it to be so hard. If only he wasn't living a reckless life, it wouldn't be so hard to prove himself. For her he'd change, he made a mental note to himself.

"I just want to know."Ahmad articulated, looking as if he was considering his next words. "Beyond her physical looks?" He smiled an internal smile, realizing something as he rested his back on the couch. "Wait first, you know you cannot be with a woman for long that you don't love or find attractive?" He made hand gestures to emphasize his point.

Omar nodded, convinced that Ahmad was speaking from a personal experience. "Look Brother, I won't be having this conversation with you if my intentions are not pure. Besides, my mother has been tormenting me to find myself a wife. Now that I've seen someone as intelligent and well endowed as Hannan, I feel like I'm ready to fulfill my mother's wish."

"Alright, I wish you all the best." He simply said. He didn't mind his friend taking the plunge with his cousin. What he feared for his friend was Hannan's ideology and concept of marriage. Her thinking was at a different frequency than all of them which sometimes made him wonder if she fell from the sky. He was certain she might reject his friend's proposal.

Omar decided to change the topic since he had made his point clear. "Anyway, tomorrow is the big day, I hope you are ready for the boys." He grinned widely, making Ahmad chuckle, thinking he was going to tease him again.

"Would you believe it if I told you I'm not ready," He shook his head with a tired smile.

Ahmad wasn't looking like he was getting married the next day. While everyone was busy getting ready and making last-minute arrangements for D-Day, all Ahmad could think of was the fullness of his wife's lips and how soft her breasts had felt under his touch the last time they got intimate with each other. It felt like another life, he couldn't wait to have her back home. To him, the next day's event was just a necessity, the only woman he wanted to spend his life with was Teslim.

"Anyways, congratulations man!" Omar extended a hand for a shake as he stood up.

"No wahala, Thank you, man," Ahmad said sheepishly, standing up to join his friend. "Congratulations too, all the best in your endeavor." He teased and his friend laughed, understanding the meaning behind his words.

"Anyways, Friday is a big day." Omar turned to take his leave and Ahmad followed. "I need to go and do my proposal." He announced, leading Ahmad out of the gazebo.

"What proposal?" He raised an eyebrow, doubting whether the young man was going to propose to his cousin right away.

"Business proposal, of course." Omar stuffed his hands in his pocket as they paced the stoned pathway. He said his final Salaam for the day to his other friends before Ahmad walked him to his car. Meanwhile, he noticed that Zayn was giving him a certain attitude. He didn't want to talk to him for some odd reason. He knew that he had taken the joke too far which might have led to Zayn's annoyance, he also knew that his dearest friend had a temper and after being left alone for some time, he'd come around. He indeed always came around when he had cooled off.

★★★★★

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