Relief flooded my body as we passed the prison's gate. I don't know what had possessed me to even think of going to see Farouk, but ever since Zainab informed me of his whereabouts I just had an inexplicable urge to see him.

Even with Ayyub at my side, I had still felt uneasy. I couldn't begin to fathom how it was that people actually lived here for years talk more of some who would live here for the rest of their lives; someone like my brother.

We had passed two gates before getting to first checking point where I was searched thoroughly by a security woman. Ayyub was also subjected to a similar search, I don't know what they thought we were bringing in with us. At a second check point within the building, we were searched using a metal detector and we had to drop our phones and anything containing a metal material in a tray before we were allowed to pass through. The second check point opened into a spacious yard where some male inmates were seated on mats weaving baskets. The place stank of unwashed bodies.

The warden left us as soon we got into the visiting room – a small bare room, painted grey that consisted of a wooden table and three chairs. A few minutes later, another warden brought in a man handcuffed and made him seat on one of the chairs.

"You have just ten minutes." The warden said as he left. But my ears were deaf to his words as I stared at the creature in front of me.

Surely this couldn't be Farouk! The man had a full unkempt hair and beard which did not succeed in covering his gaunt cheeks. His fingers were bony and bent. His hands were slim enough that he could probably remove them from the cuffs if he really tried to. He looked very old and haggard – more like a man in his seventies than forty-seven that he is. His blue prison uniform was tattered and roughly mended in a lot of places. He was fidgeting and had the look of a caged animal. He used his cuffed hands to scratch at his beards and hair several times, and sniffed before even looking towards our direction before his gaze slid away again.

"Yaya." I whispered. He looked up and for a moment his eyes widened then he smiled. At that moment he was my Farouk again. He looked exactly like the Farouk I had shared my childhood with before my father's preferential treatment of him had built the venom inside me and ruined his life by not correcting his mistakes.

"Haneefah!" Farouk cried out as he stood up to hug me. I was sure the odour emanating from him would cling to my body for days. He let go of me and scratched his beard with a calculating expression. "So you later married Ayyub, eh?" He turned to Ayyub while still scratching his beards and other parts of his body. "Baba's choice was always the best, eh?"

On that I agreed with him, Baba's choice had always been the best but the hatred in me had blinded me to it.

For a brother I had such heartfelt hatred for, the depth of my pity for him staggered me. Yes Farouk was guilty of all the crimes leveled against him and he was paying for it. But he also had a missing accomplice, Baba. Thank God, he wasn't here to see how Farouk turned out, it surely it would have killed him.

Baba was partially responsible for what Farouk was. It was Baba who he hadn't reprimanded him when he beat up the girls in the area for refusing to date him, the one who paid off the people that Farouk stole from, the one who taught him that women were mere objects created to obey his whims and desires just the way mother scrambled to obeyed our father's, the one who made him believe that because he was a man he could get away with any and everything he did. Piety and modesty were only enforced on us, the girls.

Baba had changed – probably due to his illness but his change had been too late to alter Farouk's beliefs.

I would like to think that Farouk's warming up to me had been out of happiness to see me but I knew that it was simply happiness at seeing a new source of money. It would be a miracle if he lived for even five more years; he was surely addicted to some kind of drug.

After all these years I now realised that Baba was wrong to have treated me like that, even mother was wrong to have let him walk all over us that way but it wasn't the fault of either of them. It was the way they were brought up. I wish I could see the both of my parents for a last time and beg for their forgiveness. I had allowed the wound of hatred fester in my heart so much that it allowed no room for any other thing.

***

"See Baba looking fresher o." Hussain teased his father the moment he entered our home. "Kai! Whoever said being married doesn't add a glow to the faces of the newly wedded has not seen any happily married couple."

"It is your father you are referring to, not me." Ayyub spat back at his son who only continued to grin as he rounded the sitting room to where I was seated and sat beside me.

"So tell me, mother, what have you been feeding my grumpy old man?"

"Hussain, stop it. Your baba is scratching his beard again." I reproved him. "You are embarrassing him. Where is Hassan? And  Fathia too?"

"They are still outside bringing stuffs in. Probably stuffs they bought for the amarya (new bride)." Hussain said unrepentantly, with a wink at me as he also stood up and went outside to help his siblings with whatever it is that they brought along.

Within minutes, the house was filled up with noise and boisterous greetings of Zakir who came with his fiancée, the two set of twins: Hassan and Hussain; Majiidah and Mazeedah, Fathia and finally, a very pregnant Nabeelah.

Nabeelah's two other kids ran around the house along with Majiidah and Mazeedah's three children. Hassan's wife was also heavily pregnant, leaving Hussain, Fathia and Zakir as the only still single ones.

By the time we all retired for bed, I was worn out but it was sweet kind of tiredness. I now had five grandkids and two more on the way.

My muscles ached terribly, but I didn't say a thing as Ayyub joined me on the bed. The pains were longer as worse as before and I had received good news earlier today when we both went to see my doctor.

The woman hadn't been able to stop beaming as she informed me that my last test showed that my liver function was very much better than the last time, almost normal in fact and if it continued improving at this rate it won't lead to liver cirrhosis talk more of needing a liver transplant.

Five years ago I was diagnosed with autoimmune hepatitis; my own immune system no longer recognised my liver as part of my body and was attacking it. I was put on chemotherapy and bi-monthly monitoring until I began to respond to treatment. After three years of treatment, I had a relapse and had to start again.

My illness was one of the reasons I hadn't agreed to agree to Ayyub's proposals over the years. He had already lost one wife, so why take another who was likely to die soon; after all it wasn't as though livers were readily available. It took the death of another healthy individual and what was to guarantee that my immune system wouldn’t attack the new liver.

"It's time to stop thinking now." Ayyub said pulling me out of my thoughts. "Everything is in the hands of God. Lie down." He patted his chest and I slid down the bed, covering us with the blanket and resting my head on his chest. I could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat as he went to sleep.

"Alhamdullilah." I mumbled yawning.

I could be praying for more time on earth, but no I wasn't. I was praying for paradise, a paradise with Ayyub in it. I have always heard it said that a woman previously married would be resurrected with her second husband in Jannah but I knew that even if I had been married to Ayyub first and Yusuf second and we all met in Jannah then I would still be with my heart desire, Ayyub, because Allah has promised.

He promised severally! All we just had to do was make it to Jannah.

There they (the men and women of Paradise) shall have all that they will desire,and We have with Us yet more for them! (Quran 50:35)

Ask them, is this (the Fire) better, or the everlasting gardens which have been promised to the God-fearing, righteous people (men and women)? That will be the recompense of their good deeds and the final destination of their journey, wherein, they will get everything they desire, and where in they will dwell forever. This is a promise which your Lord has taken upon Himself to fulfill. (Quran 25:15-16)

And now my sorrow was long gone and relief was now a permanent resident of my home because verily along with every hardship is relief, my Lord said so.

THE END
………

Hello readers!

I just published a new book titled JOHARA'S BATTLE. Please do check it out, and share this completed book among your friends and followers.

Till we meet again!

I.R Adams.