JIDDARH ✔️ (Preview)

5.

I shook my head as I looked away from those disgusting human beings. This yan acaba or whatever, are shameless human beings wallahi, some men in general. How can you just pee by the roadside or in the gutter of people's houses dan Allah, danannabi? Didn't Islam teach us modesty? Kai Allah ya kyauta. I don't know how my wandering gaze dropped on them, thank god their backs were to me, they didn't corrupt my eyes.

I have just dropped Rumana at school. After the last encounter with obnoxious, I wasn't comfortable with her walking to school by herself anymore. So I do it myself now, and I pick her up by 2:30 pm, take her to Islamiyah and pick her up by 6:00 pm. That has been the routine for a week now. But I don't know how the case will be now that Hajiya has called me back to work. Umma said she's okay to do it, she'll be exercising in the process, which is good for her health.

I pushed the gate door but it was locked. Great. I picked a stone to knock on the door. After almost three minutes of knocking, I heard the jingle of keys, and the door was pulled open.

"Ina kwana; good morning." I greeted the gateman, Garba Baba tsoho out of respect.

"Lafiya lau Jiddarh, an dawo kenan; so you've returned."

If I haven't will you see me here? I mentally rolled my eyes, while nodding to him in response. I just dislike the man for no reason, or maybe because there's a possibility he's here enjoying while his family and relatives back at the village are suffering. Surely he has a wife, if not wives, right? Kids too and definitely relatives. But not once in the three years I've been working in this house did he ever go to check on them. Wata kila ma ko kudin baya tura masu; there's a possibility he's not even sending them money.

Ya ilahi Jiddarh! Carry your judgmental self and walk into the house and do what brought you here, not analyzing the poor old man's life, huh-uh.

Refusing to believe that my subconscious mind is right, I walked into the main house. I pushed the double door opened and I was met with a whole new living room.

I suppressed a sigh. Why am I not surprised? Hajiya has changed the living room furniture more times than I can count on both hands. Every single time she travels for a vacation, then be sure that the whole house will be furnished again. And they say there's 'no money' in the country, kudi na inda suke kawai. Ya Allah, please, please grant us luxury in Jannatul Firdaus. Ameen Ya Allah.

I walked straight to the kitchen not even bothering to check out the living room, what's the use when I'll be seeing it all the time.

"Good morning." I greeted Inna Lami while changing my hijab to a knee-length one.

"Morning Jiddarh, how are you?" She smiled warmly.

"I'm fine," I smiled back. "How are your kids and family?" She sighed a bit ruefully. "They want me to return home."

I stopped wiping the counter to look at her. "Then what is the problem, Inna?" Honestly, I've been wondering when her kids will take this step. I expected it from them for a long time. How can your fifty-something, almost sixty-year-old mother be the one working and sending money to you, her kids? It's—I don't even know— not right, at all.

"I don't want to go back." She confessed quietly.

My eyes widened. "B-b-but why? Considering how you're treated here Inna, I thought you'll be ecstatic."

Inna smiled sadly. "You have no idea how my life was in that place, and how it'll be if I do go back. I'd rather stay here and be disrespected than ever go back to that village. Comparing the two, ai here I'm living in luxury, pertaining peace of the soul and the mind. I'd rather they get tired of me and fire me and I'll look for another job than willingly go back to that village, I can go and visit but returning there for good is not an option." She shook her head at the end.