Tale In The Red Sand

Chapter Nine

"Yes, Ayeeyo"? Hibaaq quietly sighed in relief as there seemed to have been no visible problem, relieved to see that her grandmother hadn't fractured a bone in her body getting up from that old rocking chair she loved so much. No matter how many times Hibaaq or her father offered to get a new one, Aeeyeo Warsam always refused, content with the one that looked older than herself.

So creaky and hazardous.

"It's time for my afternoon Shaa, I'll have it in the garden." Ayeeo Warsam ordered, rising shakily from her seat with the help of Hibaaq on her arm. "You look unpresentable, go and put a hijab on. Have some decency." She shook her head disapprovingly, freeing her elbow from Hibaaq's gentle grip once she stood fully upright.

Ayeeyo Warsam had ongoing complications with her knees and hips and was frequently treated at the hospital over the past decade. She was given a light wooden walking rod that helped her get around easier. Hibaaq barely saw her grandmother use it, knowing she despised the thing to bits and thought of it as a bother to her independence. Knowing this, perhaps it was time for another visit to the physician for she grew weaker as the days went by. Hibaaq furrowed her eyebrows upward as she worriedly glanced at the retreating back of Ayeeyo Warsam, saying a small prayer for good health and a speedy recovery of whatever illness that ailed her body.

She returned to her bedroom to wrap a scarf around her head. The lightheartedness walking about without one was concerning to her, especially when a non mahram man roamed the same house. Maybe if she really did staple it to her head, she wouldn't so easily forget it from then on. The thought of having metal holding fabric and the skin beneath her hair together entered her mind and she grimaced uneasily. Hibaaq followed her grandmother down the stairs before parting ways as she ventured into the kitchen, she warmed the tea from that mornings breakfast on the stove, pouring it dark and simple without milk and sugar into a dainty tea pot and then some into a matching dainty tea cup. Her grandmother enjoyed shaa only from fine china, she demanded it to be served in nothing less.

Hibaaq carried it on a tray with a side of biscuits out into the garden, placing it on the round glass table beside her grandmother. Ayeeyo Warsam lounged in a chair under a tall coconut tree, her back facing the thick trunk as she revealed her face to the warm and pleasant sun above.

"Do you need anything else, Ayeeyo"? Hibaaq asked, snatching a biscuit from the plate while her grandmother's eyes kept closed. Ayeeyo Warsam gestured with her hand to scurry along instead. Hibaaq nodded, aware the woman couldn't see the action or care less about it, so she headed back inside to make an afternoon cup of her own. Shaa was an endless pleasure in Somalia. It was pleasant even on the hottest of days, it filled the belly when one got hungry and never failed to put a smile on a face and a soothing atmosphere to a gathering. Hibaaq mentally noted that shaa will and without a doubt be served at the welfare event, however much one could drink.

"Do you not hear the bell"?! Ayeeyo Warsam called out as loud as she could for Hibaaq. Hibaaq idled by the double doors that lead into the back garden, staring out absentmindedly into space and nibbling on her half eaten biscuit before she heard the aggravated shout.

"Huh"? As if on cue the door bell rang once again, causing Hibaaq to snap out of her short lived daze. "Of course." she muttered, slapping a hand to her forehead as she went to open the front door, but not before shoving the rest of the treat into her mouth and quickly chomping it down.

The visitor at the doorstep shouldn't have surprised her as much as it did, and yet Hibaaq let out a small gasp once she opened the door because there in question stood, Abdihakeem. A bout of anxiousness settled somewhere deep in her stomach as she fought to simply breathe air. Her mouth fell agape like a fish out of water and for the first time in her life she had nothing at all to say to him, at that moment she forgot to even greet him with a Salam or ask about his unexpected visit. What could she possibly say, but state how he unknowingly tore her heart out by the news of his engagement. She didn't own him, in spite of her annoying and wavering feelings, she needed to remind herself that she had no say in his life or who he chose for a wife.