A BOND OF FATE

Chapter 3

Sing like no one's listening, love like you've never been hurt, dance like nobody's watching, and live like it's heaven on earth." – (Attributed to various sources)

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"I woke up early today, feeling refreshed and ready for the day ahead. It's Saturday, and I'm excited to give my Hadda (a recitation of the Quran) at our Islamiya, Almadina Islamic school, which is a bit of a distance from our house. After a cool shower, I got out of the bathroom, rubbing my cream, and reached for my well-ironed ash-colored hijab, which is neatly laid out on the bed. I picked up my Quran and phone, then headed out of the room, passing by our maid, who is sweeping the parlor. The house is quiet, as I knew Aunty Yesmeen, a lawyer who works in Abuja, is still asleep, having come home for the weekend to spend the day with us.

Ina kwana , Aunty jalila our maid greeted me.

Lafiya qlau I responded, carefully placing my Quran on its stand in the parlor.and made my way to the kitchen.

The kitchen is bustling with activity, with two maids hard at work - one washing dishes and our chef, Jamila, expertly preparing breakfast. However, I am running short on time, and with only 30 minutes left until my 9:00 am deadline, I couldn't afford to linger. I exchanged pleasantries with Jamila, greeting her with a warm smile.

"Jamila, can I please have a cup of custard to go?" I requested, urgency creeping into my voice. "Put it in the flask, I'm running late." Jamila nodded understandingly, her smile acknowledging my haste.

I entered my father's parlor, a sleek and modern room filled with the warm glow of floor lamps and the soft hum of a flat-screen TV. The walls were painted a soothing gray, and the floor is covered with a plush, cream-colored carpet. featuring a low-slung couch and a stylish armchair, where my father sat, sipping a cup of coffee.

He wore a crisp white jallabiya, intricately embroidered with gold thread. As I expected, he is already awake, looking serene and peaceful.

I greeted him with a warm "Assalamu alaikum!" and settled down on the carpet beside him, close enough to feel his gentle presence. "Good morning, Baba,"

"Good morning, Jalila. What are you still waiting for?" my father asked, looking at me with a hint of curiosity.

"I'll be leaving soon, Baba. I just want to grab some breakfast first," I replied, knowing that my father understand my commitment to my faith.

"Ah, I see. You're going to give your haddah today, aren't you?" he asked, his face lighting up with a warm smile. "Masha Allah, Allah ya taimaka"

"Ameen, Baba," I replied with a soft smile, feeling proud to be reciting the Quran.

Just then, my mother walked in, wearing a hijab, and I know she has come from the kitchen where she was probably instructing the maid. She's likely adding her special touch to the kunu tamba, a traditional pap that my father loved and have every day due to his diabetes.

"Ina kwana, Ummi," I greeted her, using the Hausa term of respect.

"You haven't left yet?" she asked, mentioning that Hussein, our driver, is waiting for me outside.

"I'm waiting to grab my breakfast," I replied, standing up. "I'm leaving now."

As I turned to go, my father pulled his hands out of his jallabiya pockets and handed me 2k. My mother chuckled I know that's what brought you here." I covered my face,laughing and walked out of the parlor.As I walked towards the kitchen, I grabbed my custard in a flask and headed out.

If this man didn't stop gazing at me, I am ready to give him a firm rebuke with a slap from my bare hands! I shot our mallam a sideways glare, feeling annoyed. I was reciting my Quran, but he's staring at me with a soft smile, as if I am his girlfriend or wife. Is he aware of how much I detested being stared at so intensely?

"Masha Allah, your qira'a and voice are truly soothing, Jalila," he said, his eyes still fixed on me. "Masha Allah.

I stood up, forcing a polite smile on my face.

"I want to talk to you later," he said, "meet me after closing, alright?"

"Na'am," I replied, giving him a sarcastic response, my tone laced with annoyance, but trying to maintain a respectful demeanor.

I stood up and walked towards my seat, meeting Mamah's gaze. She let out a soundful laughter. "Mallam is falling for you, Jalila!" she exclaimed.

I shook my head, giving her a glare. "Your stupid mind is my problem with you.

"Well, since you refused to give another man a chance, it seems like Mallam Sani will be the lucky one. And you two would be a great match, indeed!" she said, much to my annoyance.

I shot her a glare, knowing that talking to someone as brainless as her didn't make sense at all. And I am sure that the next thing I would hear is her blabbering about this to our family, spreading the news like wildfire.

After closing time, Ya Hamad pulled over to pick me up. "Ya Hamad, I'm telling you, that man has pulled the last straw out of me!" I exclaimed. "He was just staring at me while I recited the Quran.

He let out a soft laughter, that's it! Maybe he loves you, Meye aciki Toh.

that's the brother I have."

"Did you just say that's normal?" I asked, shocked. "I can never date my mallam, Astagafurillah!" I spat out in disbelief.

"Toh, we will have to get you married to the gate man, since you're not ready to give any man a chance.

I pouted my lips, picking up my phone. At least what cheered me up all the time is my social media streaks. I took a shot video of Ya Hamad, captioning it with "Can you believe that my brother was saying he's going to get me married to our gate man?" and added a crying face emoji...

"Hello! And here comes to the third chapter of my book!
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"How did you find Jalila? A cheerful lady with a lovely vibe, isn't it? Don't forget to vote, comment, and share! Much love!"💋
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