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Assalamu alaikum beautiful people✨💫














Without any further ado, let's dive in😌💃🏻🥂











In the name of Allah, the most beneficent, the most merciful.






"Kuluwa." I heard my mother yelling my name.

I groaned out loud. I've told her times without number to stop calling me that. I hurriedly put my hijab on and ran to her room. "Umma how many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?" I said as I walked in.

"Toh Jiddarh. Happy?"  She laughed.

I smiled at her. "Yes." Then squatted beside her. "Good morning Umma, how are you feeling today?"

"I'm fine my daughter, Alhamdulillah." She patted my head lovingly.

My Umma—Asiya Bello, a petite woman in her late 30s. She's fair skinned with small brown eyes. She always face any challenge life threw her way with her head held up high and with a smile on her lips. She's the strongest woman I've ever known, my mentor, my role model.

"I'll get going now, I don't want to be late." I said as I stood up. "Be sure to take your medicine on time."

"I will, don't worry. Umma loves you, Umma will always loves you."

I hugged my mother tightly. She tells me this everyday and I cannot get enough of it. "Jiddarh loves you too Umma, Jiddarh will always loves you."

My mother is the most important part of my life, she's my everything, my best friend.  A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden, fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine deserts us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the cloud of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts.

I went to the kitchen to remind my sister to give Umma her drugs. "In sha Allah Adda. I won't forget." I smiled and hugged her. My sister is very matured for an six year old.

I do not like leaving them alone, especially Umma but what can I do? I have go earn for us. Rumana can't, obviously, Umma is not well and our Dad.... I better not go there.

I arrived at my place of work about fifteen minutes later. I started working with the Hameed(s) three years ago.

Umma's sickness started few years ago, the one who supported us, who we depended on left us abruptly without any explanation except a letter that states that he has divorced my Umma. I hate him, so much he's the reason why my mom is sick. And what was her fault? Because she loved too much, he doesn't deserve her love. Who leaves his children and wife just like that?

I had no choice but to start working, I had no qualification whatsoever because I had just graduated from secondary school at that time and university was completely out of the question, and I had no money to start a business.

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