Every year, ever since it's formation, the people of Mogadishu would come together to raise zakat in any way for the less fortunate. As the time of the event approached the more people contributed into giving in hopes of securing an abundance of hasanat from the Almighty, securing their banks of the hereafter. This way the beggars and the poverty ridden villages could sustain from the charity they received, and after the year worth of donations, the welfare event would take place in the city hall, where all were invited to commemorate.
"It's time for you to go on." Layla tittered beside Hibaaq, her arm wrapped comfortingly around her shoulders. She nudged her head towards the raised podium, lit with a dozen spotlights and overlooking the gathered crowd.
Hibaaq quietly gulped, she was anxious. Layla was the one who gave the welcoming speech every year, Hibaaq had only done it once and that one time she'd managed to humiliate herself. "I'm sorry, I don't think I can." She said, shaking her head. They stood what would be the 'backstage' of the podium, a dimmed corner to the left of it where a few steps up would make one the centre of attention.
"Come on, you can do it, just make it short and simple. A few words is all." Layla encouraged, moving them closer to the short staircase.
"I could barely speak properly the last time, Layla I stuttered. Not once or twice, but three times." Hibaaq palmed her forehead. To somehow crush the cringe to bits, the recollection made her grind her teeth uncomfortably.
"Trust me you can do it. Quickly, the people are waiting."
This caused Hibaaq to cautiously survey the mumbling crowd, patiently waiting, and she loathed how cowardly she felt at that moment, refusing to simply go up and relay a few words as Layla put it. 'How pathetic.' She remarked inwardly, her fists balling tightly by her sides. Even if she stuttered, Hibaaq did not desire to succumb to her withdrawnness for there was plenty of time to be as anti social as she wanted to be. Now was not the time. She needed to make the effort, if not for herself than for her late mother.
"Fine." She agreed, nodding reluctantly.
"That's my girl." Layla offered a coy wink.
Hibaaq covered the steps in quick strides but at the top she wavered for a few seconds, eventually she had to step into the light. She walked to the microphone stand with as much purpose as she could muster, the sound of her clicking heels filling her ears, and demanding the attention of the audience. She could already feel the countless of eyes probingly watching her, she could feel herself slowly caving. Hibaaq caught the familiar brown eyes of a certain man, their gazes locking for a brief moment, although she swore it felt like a lifetime. Suddenly her task seemed way more strenuous than she thought before, she couldn't dare stutter now.
From across the hall, leaning steadily on a wall, Ercole gave her a slow nod of acknowledgment, one she discreetly returned with a simple raise of her eyebrows.
"Good evening everyone." She began after a deep breath. "It's an honor to be here tonight with you all. After a long year of giving back to our people, we're gathered here to celebrate the power of kindness and generosity. In sha Allah, I hope that tonight's event will inspire us all to continue to make a positive change in our communities. Thank you for being here and for supporting this important cause for as long as I can remember. May Allah reward us all for this, akhira iyo aduun." Hibaaq concluded.
A prolonged beat later, the entire hall of guests, young and old, began applauding and enunciating simultaneous 'ameens'. Hibaaq whispered an ameen of her own as she stepped away from the microphone and walked off the podium with a sense of fulfilment now swelling in her heart. Layla let out an elated squeal at the bottom, throwing her arms around Hibaaq once she was close enough. "See, I knew you could do it, you were amazing." She praised, tightening the hug before letting go.
"Thank you. These nerves will be the end of me." Hibaaq chuckled softly.
"Let's greet our guests." Layla took a hold of Hibaaq's hand and led them into the lively pool of circulating folk. She greeted familiar faces light heartedly, embracing old friends from high-school with a cordial smile
"Feeling accomplished?" A warm and resonant voice pulled her away from the mingling crowd. Hibaaq turned around to view Ercole standing behind her, hands casually tucked away in his dress pant pocket's. She almost embraced him like she did her lady friends before she quickly stopped herself mid action. Her arms fell accordingly to her sides, and her heels lowered back down to the floor. She could only hope he hadn't noticed her slight mishap.
"Like everyone else in here." Hibaaq replied, smiling.
She laughed quietly when a familar adeer strode up to her with determination. He stopped in front her, his aged face beaming as he firmly shook her hand. Her favourite timir vendor then winked before continuing on his way towards the group of uncles who made a small clique on a far table to the back of the venue.
Ercole silently watched on as she helplessly got swept into another pleasantry after the other, and he was sure that she had forgotten about him, but he didn't mind at all. He took his time prolonging the first gaze his eyes had set upon her before he was
obliged to look away by modesty. He didn't know if what he was feeling was simply curiosity reeling him into the fascinating source that was Hibaaq Cali, or if it was just his boyish desires. Though it was much more than that. Each day, his heart would ache with longing, it had punctured a gradual gaping hole in his chest, one that only she could possibly fill. Perhaps his interest was just admiration, impelled by her brilliant mind and wisdom as if she had been living on earth way beyond her years. Somewhat it was, though only partially. What he was feeling was deeper, more meaningful and it was whole, he could almost reach out and touch it.
"Where is my father?"
Ercole quickly registered where he was and where he still stood, he gazed down at her. The people she was engaged in conversation with had dispersed. She stared back up at him, perplexed. "Earth to Ercole." Hibaaq jested.
He let out a low laugh, causing the sound to reverberate intensely in her chest and throughout her whole body. Her smile wavered at the effect he had on her, pushing her mind towards a looming array of questions, though his rich voice pulled her out of it before it had the chance to initiate.
"He's somewhere in here." Ercole trailed off, eyes scanning the sea of people, some standing around just like they were, some sitting. Then his searching gaze landed on its target. Warsame conversed exuberantly with fellow businessmen off to the side of the venue, evidently, the life of the party for his animated and elaborate speaking had his listeners bursting out in robust laughter.
Hibaaq followed his direct line of sight until she saw her father. She covered her mouth as she chuckled, watching him amusedly. "He's always in such a bubbly mood." She remarked.
Ercole made a challenging expression, his thick eyebrow rising.
"Well then, I guess you haven't seen him in action yet." He stated.
Hibaaq quizzically scoffed, making her way over to the two sets of the stretching tables of food and drink, aware that he was close behind. She picked up a glass bottle of soda, popping the aluminium lid open with her teeth. She was glad Layla wasn't around to witness the action she deemed as a crime, scolding her of the damages it could cause.
"Of course I have, I've visited him at work and he's always in the same mood." She argued, bringing the rim up to her lips. The speech, though it was short, left her mouth dry and in need of moisture. Hibaaq knew it was the nerves, and perhaps the way she had been sucking in air through her clenched teeth the whole time.
"That is because you're his daughter, he doesn't want you to see him acting all crazy, grilling all his employees." Ercole quietly snickered at Hibaaq's horrified expression. She was in disbelief.
"That does not sound like him at all."
"I'm just kidding, don't be so quick to believe."
Ercole stifled a laugh.
Hibaaq scoffed once again, a little disgruntled. She was slightly peeved by his casual way of joking because he appeared so serious when he did.
"I didn't believe you anyway." She mumbled, looking anywhere but at him. Alhough she had noticed how much he enjoyed teasing her at wits end, and she couldn't deny as peeving as it was, it was also quite enjoyable. Ercole was always joshing her, making her blush furiously even on the days she wasn't particularly in the mood, lo and behold, her face would ignite and a smile would grace her lips.
Hibaaq momentarily thought of his imminent departure, it saddened her yet again. She didn't want to be downcast on a day like this though, she promised herself earlier that day. She glanced over at him, lost in his own world as he sipped on water and Hibaaq seized the opportunity to studiously peer at him. She'd observed, he looked unquestionably dapper as always. His rugged frame dressed in a linen short sleeved shirt, tucked into sandy brown slacks, held together by a thick belt spiralling around his well defined waist. Her head spun a little, not from nausea but from sheer rapture as she breathed in the vanilla musk that wafted from him. She sought forgiveness, though it was difficult to think straight when he was not but five feet away.
The white man, as mysterious as he came, was not only carefully studied by Hibaaq, but also by a woman a little distance away, one by the name of Zarah Dahir. The city's whispers were carried chiefly by this young woman, it went to her just like how moths drew to flame, and she was undeniably taken by Ercole. Her eyes narrowed alluringly as she slowly approached him from the throng with a pleasant smile, showcasing all her pearly teeth. She didn't bother looking at Hibaaq, in fact she hadn't noticed she was even there.
"Hello"! She greeted jovially, causing Ercole to recoil from his pondering, staring down at the short woman before him. He cleared his throat, returning the greeting with a proper 'Asalamu' Alaikum'.
Zarah's eyes widened for a second before stating the obvious. "You're Muslim?" Hibaaq visibly cringed at the question. Ercole, however, didn't take exception to it, it wasn't every day one would come across a white Muslim parading the streets of Mogadishu after all, therefore he simply nodded. She didn't stop there though. "Born and raised"?
Ercole was taken aback for a moment. Usually the questions would stop there once he would confirm their curiosity, this was the first time a person had asked him such question, he was surprised.
"I reverted a few years ago." He politely answered.
"Oh..."
"Salamualaikum, Zarah." Hibaaq greeted, feeling it was about time for her presence to be known. She didn't miss the flash of irritation that passed Zarah's eyes.
Her lips pulled back up into grin. "Walaikumasalam, it's so nice to see you again, Hibaaq." Zarah suddenly embraced her old friend, causing a former strain to thicken in the air between them. History always found a way to crawl back through the cracks in the walls it had been confined in, surprising one when they least expect it.
Zarah Dahir was Hibaaq's confined history.
They were like two peas in separate pods, polar opposites, and yet they were inseparable at one point in their lives; but good things never seemed to last with them. Hibaaq completely understood why people said to listen to one's parents when they sensed something amiss. Warsame always felt unconvinced of their close friendship, but it was too late when Hibaaq finally heeded her father's warnings. It came with a cost, the scar had already been branded on her for life.
She really did not want dark memories spoiling this day for her. "Is it." Hibaaq replied, blinking away the haze that covered her eyes.
"Anyway!" Zarah clasped her hands together and stuck out a singular index finger, pointing towards Ercole. "What is your name"?
Ercole straightened from his slightly slouched stance, feeling rather unnerved under Zarah's scrutinising stare.
"Ercole." He answered.
"Hmm... Italian." She guessed, her smile growing wider when Ercole verified it with a simple nod. "Well that was cool." She giggled. Ercole was finding a hard time to break eye contact for he was infringing the commands of lowering one's gaze and besides that, she would not stop searching for his.
Hibaaq held back the urge to roll her eyes out of courtesy, and she almost jumped up in joy when her eyes spotted Layla strutting up to their table instead, undoubtedly seeking for treats. She quickly grabbed her attention by flagging her over with a wave of her hand, a silent plea for help written all over her face. As if Layla read her mind, she hastily made her way over all the while she glared at the back of Zarah's clean bob. Her hair seemed to have a life of its own, bouncing around whenever her head made the slightest of movement.
"Of course it's her blessing us with her presence." Layla lowly grumbled once she was beside Hibaaq. "Zarah, what a surprise!" She exclaimed, ceasing her useless rambling. Ercole was rather relieved about it.
"Layla." She nodded in acknowledgment.
"You're back from, excuse me if I'm wrong, Burao was it or Galkacyo?" Layla asked deliberately, aware that Zarah Dahir had never moved from the city, otherwise the whispers would've dropped to a respectable degree.
Hibaaq pressed her fingers to her pursed lips, suppressing a laugh at Layla's inciting behaviour. She had almost forgotten that Ercole was there beside her, and at the moment she looked up he was already peering down at her with his eyebrows raised in question. She couldn't contain the amused grin that spread out onto her lips.
"I'll see you around." He said. He couldn't understand women for the life of him no matter how hard he tried, hence he had no idea what was awry between them, and why he felt an icy chill from their sharp gazes.
"Mhm." Hibaaq hummed, watching him turn, his head shaking in what she assumed was confusion as he walked away. 'Bless him.' She thought.
Zarah's eyes, meanwhile, narrowed in a troublesome way, blatantly challenging her life sworn foe. However close Hibaaq was with her in the past, Layla and Zarah had never gotten along, they unashamedly despised one another, even with years passed since their adolescent days, it was as if nothing at all had changed between the two. The feelings were completely mutual.
"I was here all along." Zarah replied with a deriding chuckle, her eyes glinting in a sly manner. "How are you, and how are things going with, what was his name again forgive me? Sharmake." She purposely mentioned a name that would once make sixteen year old Layla jitter with elation, but those days were long past her and the simple statement of his name presently made her want to hurl all the contents inside her stomach. Seemingly, it worked out as the perfect tool to stir the fury inside Layla.
'This little"- She bit her tongue to prevent her from cursing or spouting worse. Hibaaq quickly pulled their attention with a curt clearing of the throat whilst giving Layla a reassuring glance that read not to feed into her nonsense because it was clearly working, and God knows what the cunning woman had up her sleeve to sabotage the situation to her advantage. She had done so on many occasions after all with a swift turn of waterworks and a string of deceptive words.
Layla chuckled passionlessly, choosing to disregard the question as she readied herself for a spiteful comeback; but the microphone shrieked, catching every individual's attention and instantly hushing the lively hall.
Hibaaq sighed out in relief, her shoulders lowering. She quickly looped her arm through Layla's and pulled her away from the approaching face off. They took their places on the bow tied chairs in front of the podium.
She couldn't have picked a better time for a khutbah to start.
...
Very late notice, but I impulsively submitted this story in the 2023 wattys ... the banner just showed up on my page and I did it without thinking twice and although I probably have a chance slim to none of winning (I defo won't) please give it a vote. I think voting on each chapter helps, I don't know it's my first time and I'm shaking!
To my gentle readers,
I love you.
Akhira iyo Aduun - in this world and the next.