It's been a month since the denouncement of birth right from Maryam's mother, and ofcourse since Noorie started her therapy. The therapist sat on a chair in his gigantic office, his gray hair disheveled as usual and his medicated glasses balancing on the bridge of his nostrils.
He hummed softly, as he slipped through the pages of the notes he's kept for Noorie. He hasn't quite determined what was wrong with Noorie, because she's got the different symptoms of the various behavioral disorder, something which rarely occurs. He hummed again in confusion when he noticed the one name that had made several rounds in his notes, Maryam.
Which ever page he turned to, ended up with Maryam. There's always a way she names Maryam as her assailant. It's obvious Noorie's main problem is Maryam. In most of the jottings, he had clearly marked out Noorie as the assailant though, but to her, she's the victim who Maryam had hurt in a way or another.
The last paragraph was from that afternoon session, and her exact words had been "Maryam has been sent away now. I don't have anything to worry about anymore. Mommy has finally done the needful, so I am not angry anymore"
The therapist inhaled deeply with a frown. He hated that he could not term Noorie's sickness yet, she might be worse than he thinks or not even as bad as she seems. She had a single problem, and now that it's gone she seemed to be the perfect teenage girl.
Meanwhile, Noorie sang as loudly as she could announcing her presence like she always does. A soft hiss had left Tanzeel's mouth but Noorie was so happy to care. The truth is today marks the last day she would go see the therapist for this week. She hated having to drive herself to the old geezer and telling him all her problems.
"Can't you just save us all the stress and choke one of these days so we don't have to listen to your horrendous voice" Tanzeel had stated eyeing her with so much disdain. Noorie did not dare reply, scared she might get disciplined. She knows her step siblings aren't very loving, little things irritates them. She continued singing loudly though, ignoring the glare she was receiving from her older sister. She barged into the kitchen, and her smile seized.
There stood her mother and Aliyah, standing side by side laughing at each other, both were wearing apron and had flour smeared on parts of their faces.
"What's going on here?" She had asked, like a man who had caught his fiance cheating with another man. Her mother smiled lovingly at her, but Noorie did not return the smile. At that moment, she wanted to know what on Earth was making her own mother and her sister all loving up in the kitchen.
"We are making pancakes, Aliyah has her food practical next week, we've got to practice so she passes" her mother stated squealing like a child. Noorie tried to smile but her face could not contour itself to a smile. Aliyah whispered something about a crush and both started giggling like school girls. Noorie racked her brain, and she was so sure her mother did not do this with her. Infact, whatever she had needed to cook ended up being taught by the help. Yet, her own mother stood there sharing a moment with Aliyah and not her.
"Come and join us" Aliyah said whisking the batter. Noorie wanted to vomit, she would never join this little cahoot. She shook her head with a fake smile and exited the kitchen with slumped shoulders.
If Tanzeel saw her, she did not show it. Infact she refused to glance at Noorie again, because to her Noorie is just some irritating kid sharing her home with her other siblings.
Meanwhile, Janan kept staring at her son as he did the dishes, he has been humming his famous Justin beiber song ever since he woke up, and he even decided to grace them with some steps, which Islam found totally annoying. Islam groaned loudly, and then he let out a sobbing sound, staring directly at his mother as he did.
"Make it stop Mom" he yelled silently, making his mother chuckle. His expression were murderous as he glared at his brother who was now shaking his shoulders as he hummed. "It's been going on since last night. Make it stop" Islam added enough for his mother to hear.
"Don't be bitter Islam. His girlfriend is coming back, ofcourse he has to be happy" she whispered making Islam groan loud enough for his brother to stop humming. Iman turned around, and cocked his brows questioningly. When both his mother and brother did not say a word, he resumed humming and rinsing with an evident smile.
Islam slowly picked up the knife his mother was using to cut apples, indicating he wanted to end his life. On seeing her son carrying the knife with a miserable expression. She squeaked humorously, and grabbed the knife from her son who was already sprawled on the kitchen island mimicking a dead person.
"You're just pained no girl wants to be your girlfriend" she teased and he held his chest. He squeezed it with a pained expression wile his mother watched rolling her eyes every now and then. As he kept sliding onto the kitchen island with his eyes loosing focus, she started laughing.
A knock on the door caught her attention, with a contented smile, she shook her head at him. She was about to leave the knife with him, but on second thoughts she grabbed the knife from the island with a big smile. Islam could be rough a times and she would end up being miserable. It's better she goes with the knife. Iman wasn't humming again thankfully but he had a bright smile plastered on his face, much to Islam's frustration.
The knock on the door was persistent so Janan jogged to the door mumbling a reply. She hated it when a person would knock a hundred times in few seconds.
As she yanked the door open, ready to tell the person off, she came face to face with an extremely attractive bulgy chest. Her gaze travelled from his chest to his face. He is a very young man and he was holding a food basket. Her heart beat accelerated immediately her eyes met his. She felt goosebumps traveling from her feet up her neck. She blinked multiple times, trying to shake off the feeling but it wasn't going away.
He stood there, dumbfounded too. He was staring at her too, and he had goosebumps literally everywhere. He squeezed the basket handle, but no words would escape his mouth. He kept opening his mouth, yet nothing was coming out of it.
"Mubaraq, don't just stand there. Keep knocking until she opens up" a shrill voice called out from over the fence.
"H...h...Hy" he managed to croak out, and ofcourse Janan felt her insides twisting on hearing his voice. The last time she felt this was for Junaid, when they were way younger. After the incident and the gory divorce, Janan found men unattractive. Infact, that gender remained females in her eyes. But for today, she felt it. She was finally seeing a man in the young man she believes she's older than.
"Hy" she whispered softly, placing her head on the door frame. He was wearing a black gym wear, abd for some reason he had removed the jacket, leaving his arm muscles bare to her eyes. She on the other hand was wearing her baggy pajamas, yet in Mubaraa's eyes she looked prettier than every single female he's ever encountered.
"Mubaraq, I don't hear yha knocking. Should I come over?" The shrill voice came again and he literally winced making Janan smile.
"That's my mum" he had said softly. Janan felt her lids getting heavier, as she tried keeping a record of his voice in her head.
Janan left the door, and came outside. She saw an older woman and her older husband standing by the fence. She waved at them, and they returned the wave enthusiastically.
"The plan was for him to come alone, but his mother dragged me to the fence, so he doesn't" Mubaraq's father yelled out placing all the blame on the mother. Janan beamed at the two of them. She left the door and eased herself towards the fence where she squatted and greeted the older couple, who stared at her admiringly.
"How are your boys? Hope they're fine. We are going in now. Make Mubaraq stay at your place, he will try to get away, buy insist he comes in. He's a very shy person" his mother had said holding onto her husband. They left without another word, with Janan standing by the short fence watching them.
When Janan realized she had left Mubaraq by the door, she sprinted to the door only to find Islam giving him a once over. He had his brows cocked and ofcourse eyeing the older guy's biceps.
"Islam" she drawled coming to stand in front of her son, successfully blocking his gaze. "Please come in" she had said, attempting to collect the basket from him, but he shook his head with a smile and gestured she led the way.
Mubaraq sat on the sofa, watching the television which was on a soap opera she watches during her morning hours, while Janan was in the kitchen preparing tea for him after asking if he wanted coffee or tea.
Iman on the other hand was on the phone with Maryam, so it is safe to say he's not in this world right now. When Janan stepped out of the kitchen, Mubaraq followed her with his eyes with a soft smile on his face. While Islam followed his eyes to see how the new guy was staring shamelessly at his mother. He frowned and glared at Mubaraq who has no idea Islam was actually glaring.
"When did you move in?" Janan had asked trying to make a conversation.
"Yesterday, in the morning" he replied. Janan furrowed her brows, surprised his mother already knew her boys within the span of yesterday and today. "Please don't mind my mother. She's a looker and an observer....."
"O it's not a problem" Janan cut him off and both of them sat there staring at each other with a smile.
Islam almost threw up. He could not believe this short conversation was making them actually stare at each other. So he stood up noisily, cutting that connection off.
"I am Islam and my brother Iman is inside. He's a doctor and I am a student. We are grown and you're not marrying my mother" he stated, walking away and stomping his feet noisily as he went.
Mubaraq chuckled softly, and he turned his attention to Janan who felt very embarrassed by Islam's behavior.
"I am very sorry about him......"
"It's not a problem" he replied with a smile.
"He's usually very sweet. Today is just one of those days things irritates him" she defended her son, pleadingly.
"Trust me, I know. I have a teenager too. She's very very hard to handle" he had announced making Janan go rigid. He has a teenage daughter. He is married then. Why on Earth did he come here shirtless looking all yummy then. She's not going to be anybody's second wife. Wait, why on Earth was she thinking about marriage now?
Her face must have shown how conflicted she is, so he chirped in. "I don't have a wife, I have never been married" to actually clear things up. But her furrowed brows were far from rearranging. Infact that statement had only disheveled her thoughts more. So if he has no wife, only meant he is actually younger than her. Which parent in their right sense of mind will accept her, when she is obviously older than their son. Never been married?
That's just the worst, he's a young vibrant man who can get whatever he wants with that face, attitude and body. What would he want from a poor older woman like her. She literally has a son who is a doctor. This will never work out.
"You should go" she blurted out, making Mubaraq go still for some seconds. He was minutes away from panicking. He had just met her, after his mother kept going on and on about a neighbor she is sure is his soul mate. She had literally forced him into coming here with the basket because of his lack of interest in the opposite gender.
When his mother was going on and on about Janan, he had assumed she was being dramatic as usual since she has never passed up the opportunity to fix him up with someone. But, when he had seen Janan, he knew his mother had finally understood what he wanted in a woman. When he stared into her eyes minutes ago, he knew he had finally found his her. When she had gone to the fence to talk to his parents, and he wasn't seeing her anymore. He realized he wanted her. Everything was going well and now, it's spiralling down.
"I'll bring back the basket later. I am actually busy....."
"Hey" he called out softly and she looked up. He smiled a little. "Listen, we did not start this on the right footing. Let me introduce myself. I am Mubaraq Muhammad, and I am a single father of a 17 year old girl. I am an architect who has made a lot of wrong choices. Don't send me away yet, when you don't even know me" he had whispered.
It did not ease her nerves. He sounded genuine but she knows the society. It won't work, even if his family accepts her. She would have to keep introducing him as her husband and not her younger one.
"I'll bring back the basket. Just go, Mubaraq" she had whispered without looking at him knowing he would break her resolve if she did. Until she heard the front door close, did she stand up, cleared the table and headed to the kitchen to eat her apple with a single thought in her head. "This is for the best"
*********
"So, I am going to Zaria to ask for your hand in marriage" Iman asked making Maryam smile shyly. "Do I have to see Khalifa? I wish that boy would just disappear from Zaria. That guy gets on my nerves" he had stated again and this time Maryam laughed. "Laugh all you want. He bothers me alot, and I feel like your grandparents won't like me because of him"
Maryam did not stop him, as he went on and on ranting about how he would steal the hearts of her relatives in Zaria.
"What time am I coming to pick you from the airport?" He had asked checking his time. Maryam checked her time too, made a few calculations in her head and told him to come by 5pm.
"I'll see you at the airport my baby" he whispered and she grinned.
"I'll see you at the airport too" she replied. Iman laughed a little, knowing Maryam would never get used to calling him baby. Infact she would rather fall and break her legs than say those words.
"Bye Baby" he said pushing her buttons and chuckled shyly.
"Bye Muhammad" she had whispered before ending the call.
The moment the call ended, Maryam's gaze became downcasted. Iman has tried his very best to be there, and whenever he is there she is the happiest person. But her life predicament tends to get to her if she's not reading, or doing anything fruitful with her time. It still surprises her that her own mother disowned her, because of a child her mother did not give birth to. She wonders what wrong she had committed to be punished in that manner. As far as she knows, she's been the most dedicated child to her family. Yet, when it was time to cast a member away, they chose her. She had buried herself so much in her studies, that she had gone for two seminars in Lagos, this being the second one within the month. Her lecturer had picked up a piece she had submitted and had shipped her off to Lagos with Alhaji Matazu's permission ofcourse to present her piece.
The second piece had received more likes that she had anticipated, and to Maryam's very own surprise, she had been registered as a student psychologist.
Maryam smiled bitterly at the irony of that situation. Here she was dosing out papers concerning people's educational psychological health when she is this pitiful.
Even though Alhaji Matazu calls her on daily basis, it has done very little to console her. Even though Mama keeps calling too, it wasn't the same since it wasn't her own mother. Zarah has always been there too, but nothing could console the heart of a grieving daughter.
Maryam's pity party came to an end when the announcer informed her that her flight was ready to be boarded. She dragged her box tiredly, only to collide with a girl who was definitely in a hurry just like she is. The contents of both her bag and Maryam's bag spilled on the floor.
"I am very very sorry" the girl had lamented which she started picking up her belongings and Maryam's belongings. Maryam knelt down tiredly and started picking up her things too without a word to the girl. It was taking everything in her not to wail in anguish, but she maintained her poise. Wailing about a spilled bag would end up being uploaded on the internet, and an upload would definitely kill her chances and the connections she was beginning to make in the psychological world.
After picking up everything, her wallet was missing. She looked around but could not find it.
"Here" the girl had said. Only then did Maryam look up, and what she saw made her almost loose her balance. A timid Noorie stared at her with so much concern. Maryam felt as if she had been splashed with a dose of cold water so she took a step back. The girl blinked multiple times, wondering why Maryam was beginning to hyperventilate because of her purse.
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