52 WEEKS✔

Chapter Three

Losing her dad at a very young age with an ailing mother and two siblings to take care of made Hajarah wiser than her age. She toils day and night for her family's survival.  Early morning she will wake up and make pap for her immediate brother who will sell it at the market before going to school after making breakfast which is always from the left over of yesterday's dinner or just pap depending on their earnings.  She is adamant and relentless to go to school a long distance from their village.  she's about to start writing her final exams. After school,  she will rush home to make lunch before taking out her tray of spices to sell around the village.  Her tray consists of maggi, salt,  pepper, dried ginger, onions, garlic, potash, boubboub, dried okra and others.  She will go around town from one house to the other until she gets a reasonable amount of money that will be enough to make dinner, including the next day's breakfast and lunch.

"Oh Allah!  I'm so tired Mama, my back feels like it's broken" she complained,  her face showing immense pain as she dropped the tray in the room sitting down beside her mother.

"Sannu yar albarka ( well done blessed child) you're always trying so hard to help us out. I wish I am the one taking care of you"  Mama said, fanning her daughter with a small hand fan.

"Who said you're not helping?  You're always praying for me, you make sure that no one trample upon us, you raise us well and you are the financial secretary of our thriving business,  what else do you want to do?"

Mama smiled proudly at her daughter " I want to be the one taking care of you Hajarah,  I want your brother and sister to go to school like you, I want you to concentrate on your studies, to enjoy your teenage age like all your mates and much more, but I can't and it makes me sad"

Hajarah sat upright, forgetting about her back ache giving her mother a look of adoration " I am not complaining am I ? And in shaa Allah they will all have an education when I become rich after we move to the city where I'll find the cure for your legs and we will live happily ever after" she sighed dreamily.

"I pray so my dear, now rest a bit,  Aliyu will buy fried sweet potatoes for us to eat for dinner so that you can read your books"

Hajarah followed her mother's instructions sleeping off within minutes to rest her aching limbs. She wonder why none of her father's brothers help them out, they don't even acknowledge them whenever Mama force them to visit and never miss the chance to insult them. Mama told her that her family are in the big city, busy with their own lives to check up on her but she always promise her that they will soon come to their rescue and all her dreams will come true. That has been almost seven years ago and no sign of the said relatives and now that she's eighteen,  she realised that it was a ruse to shut her up from asking questions. Whatever it is, she believes that time will tell.

They love each other dearly and are a close knit family even though they barely have enough to get by, they are honest and content and never beg for anything.  Mama will get mad if they collect anything on credit " your integrity and honor are  the most important things to you, if you don't have the means to buy something then don't buy it at all. Respect is earned" she will often tell her kids and that's how they never go hungry no matter how bad the market is, they will manage to eat even once a day and during emergencies they will use the money from their savings.

The call for Maghrib prayers woke Hajarah up and after praying she dashed out to the Islamic school she's attending at night because she don't have the luxury of attending afternoon classes.

"You're late" the short burly teacher observed sternly,  his cane dangling in his hands.

"I'm sorry Sir,  I lost track of time" Hajarah meekly apologised,  praying he won't use his cane on her.