She's walking down the street aimlessly, the sky is bright and the day looks promising. However Sadeeqa's mood is a contrast to the clear Monday morning sky. She's just 17 and is supposed to be in school as it is 7:30am already. Her friends and classmates pass by her on their way to school.
Her school being a public school she thought she could finally be able to stay in school at least for a full whole academic session unlike those years. But even that seemed a great deal. She finds a bench in a kiosk opposite her school. She clears the dust on the bench, sitting down gracefully trying to copying the English ladies she's seen on her neighbours TV.
'Sadeeqa, aren't you coming to school today?'
Sadeeqa turns towards the voice which brought her out of her reverie. She sees her best friend, Salima
'Salima, how are you? You're late again today'
Sadeeqa says obviously avoiding her friends' question. Salima eyes her knowingly giving her the 'I know what you just did look' but to Sadeeqa's great relief she lets it go.
'Yeah, I had to attend the morning Islamic school. You know Abba ( Father ) will have my head if I missed it.
Sadeeqa smiles, 'Lucky me, I get to attend the evening classes'
'Yeah, lucky you' Salima says, rolling her eyes
'Hurry up to school Salima, Mr Farouq will have your head if you miss his class yet again today!' Sadeeqa says, she knows how much her best friend hates attending Mr Farouq's Maths class. 'Well, you're right. I better hurry up. I'll see you later Bestie.' Salima hurries up towards the school gate, with Sadeeqa smiling sadly at her retreating back.
She imagines Mr Farouq asking Salima about her as soon as someone fails to answer his questions in class, _'seems that is the only time her remembers me' She thinks sadly
Thirty minutes later, Sadeeqa finally gets tired of sitting in one place. She stands up, wiping the imaginary dirt from her skirt. She adjusts her hijab and take the road leading to her home. She sighs heavily, and any one who cares to observe will see that the young beautiful girl walking slowly in the street with her head bowed has tears running like streams from her eyes.
'Where did you come from, Sadeeqa? I told you to stay home and help me make this bean cakes.' The sound of the voice makes Sadeeqa's head snap up , quickly wiping her tears she attempts to clear any trace of tears from her young pretty face. She obviously doesn't want her mom know she has been crying. She hates others seeing her tears, Infact she hated crying at all , she felt weak anytime she cried and she knew weakness is not what she needed right now.
'I'm sorry, Ummi ( Mother ) I went to get the pepper you sent me and I list track of time', she replies in her local dialect ( Hausa )
' Oh , I completely forgot I sent you to get anything . Come, help me wash that pan, we'll use it in frying the bean cakes. I know you all must be hungry right now'. Her mom says in Hausa
'Have you seen your brothers?'
'Yes , they are playing with the neighbour's kids at the gate' she replies, removing her hijab to wash the pan her mom had pointed.
' Ok, hurry up with that. We don't want them running off to somewhere, maybe a stranger's house to eat.' Her mom says , worriedly
'Alright, Ummi'.
Several hours later, Sadeeqa sits on the prayer mat opposite her father. He too is sitting on a larger prayer mat he appears to have just concluded observing the Magrib prayer.
'Good evening, Abba. ' Sadeeqa says in English. Her dad is educated and has always spoken to his children in English. 'Good evening, my daughter. How are you?' Her father asks, in his deep baritone voice she both fears and adores. 'I'm fine , Abba.' She replied, her head bent not daring to look straight at me out of respect. ' You all have prayed,right!?' ' Yes, Abba. We all have. ' She replied although timidly. 'Then why are they not here with you?' Her dad asked, calmly but coldly. 'I.. I... I think they are still at the mosque , Abba. But... They will be here soon'. She couldn't resist adding.
Just in cue, she hears her siblings voice. Her elder brother Sàdïq is heard laughing with who seems to be Adam her younger brother. Sàdïq is about 22 years already and a handsome young man at that. While Suleiman his younger brother is 20 years , and then she is 17 with a younger brother Adam who is 13 , Adam's junior is a girl , she's called Ummi because she got named after their mother Sadiya, Ummi is 7 and the reason for the gap between the two was that her mother fell ill immediately after the birth of Adam , when she was well enough she said she wanted to rest with childbirth, she said Sadeeqa and her siblings were enough for her. But, funnily enough after several years she got pregnant with Ummi and when she gave birth to Ummi she loved her so much she immediately named Ummi after her. Two years later, she gave birth to Dahir who is the youngest and hopefully the last born of the house.
'Assalam' Alaikum'. Dahir enters the room and his siblings step in after him. The boys all greet him the same way Dahir did, and so does Ummi. Sadeeqa relaxes visibly. Thank God they are all here! She mutters inwardly
'You all prayed Magrib?' Is the first thing Sadeeqa's father asks his children. They all chorus 'yes, we did.
Her father smiles, 'Alright. God bless you my children' and they all chorus 'Amin, Abba' all happy.
'Ummi, come over here.' Her father instructs with barely concealed affection. They all roll their eyes. If course everyone knew Ummi was everyone's favourite in the family. Only she could do anything and get away with.
She heads over to her father and plops on his lap and he just smiles are her adoringly. 'Abba...' Ummi begins
'Yes, yar lele' ( yar lele means my favourite in Hausa )
'Abba, Sadeeqa wants to tell you something'. Ummi says, pouting.
'Oh, she does?' Her father asks , his gaze now fixed on Sadeeqa who has her head bowed till now.
She finally answers after a few seconds and she swallows as she feels everyone's gaze is fixed on her
' Abba, I wanted to ask you for a favour.' She says, barely audible.
She notices the change in the room and she swallows again
'What is it?' Her father asks, almost impatiently.
'Abba, I wanted to tell you I was sent home today from school.'
There's a deathly silence in the room and Sedeeqa us tempted to raise her hand to look around but she doesn't dare. 'And?' Her father's cold voice resounds in the silent room.
' I was sent home because I failed to pay for the MOCK WAEC examination and the portal would be closing next.. next.. Wee..week.' She forcefully says, stammering at the end.
' What!?' Her father thunders, in rage. Sadeeqa was expecting this from him but she still can't stop the tremor running through her at his angry voice. 'I told you Sadeeqa, countless times. You should get a husband, my friend's daughters which are the sane age as you are already married with either a baby or a pregnancy. But what do you know? All you care about is school! School! School! Is school going to marry you? Which sensible young lad in this town would want a girl who has known what it means to be in the university? You won't respect your husband because you'll feel you are as strong as him, you would forget the teachings of Islam once you get there! I'm done explaining to you, Sadeeqa and since you don't want to get a husband, I'll be getting one for you. And you must respect me and marry him! Or else...' Mr Abdullahi said with finality in his voice.
Sadeeqa meanwhile wouldn't even dare to move as she's now sacred to death. She's crying her eyes now silently of course, as she knows at the sight of her tears he would just end up beating her to a pulp.
'Leave here, now!' Her father thunders. Making her scramble to her feet after cleaning her face as beat as she can and in her attempt falls down on her butt and even she smiles bitterly through her tears at her funny, sad predicament. She looks up briefly to find her brother's eyes on her, he's looking at her like she's some lost cause. She sighs feeling suddenly tired.
With not another glance at her father or siblings she leaves the room straight to her room. She bursts into a fresh bout of tears but the next second she inhales and her breath comes out shaky and weak as she exhales. Looking at her now she looks nothing like the timid girl who ran into her room now crying like her life was on the line. In her place is a strong, beautiful and confident girl. The kind of confidence that says 'break me all you want, but I will still rise back up!'
' Sadeeqa! Sadeeqa! Are you asleep already?' Sadiya, Sadeeqa's mother can be seen peeping into her daughters room.
' No, Ummi. I'm not.' Sadeeqa says, Unlike how it is with her father, Sadeeqa has to speak to her mother with Hausa because her mother is well_ an illiterate. 'She never had an opportunity to even step into a school compound since she was born' she once told Sadeeqa. 'I'm sorry, Ummi.'
'Why, Sadeeqa? It's my fault. I should have at least went to school when I was your age, I maybe would have been able to stand up for you.'
'Ummi, it's fine. I understand, and I won't give up. In Sha Allah, things will work out for the best." Sadeeqa says to her mother, sniffing lightly. 'That reminds me, I think I'll go ahead to your school to talk to the principal maybe he can help convince your dad'. Sadeeqa feels so happy she hugs her mother tightly. ' yes, ummi. I think that'll work.' She says with obvious relieve.
'OK, now you need to sleep. Don't worry OK? Allah knows best. Now, don't forget to say your prayers before you sleep, OK?' Mrs Abdullhi says
Sadeeqa's eyes are twinkling with joy and love. She feels so glad that her mom isn't giving up on her. 'I will, Ummi. Thank you'.
'Good night, sweetie'. Mrs Abdullahi walks out, smiling.
'Good night, Ummi'. Sadeeqa smiles at the closed door.
'Peace be upon this house.'
'Peace be unto you too'.
Mr Abdullahi is sitting on a chair close to the gate inside his house.
'Welcome, Mr Muhammad'. 'Thank you. Mr Abdullahi'. 'Please come over here and sit with me'. Mr Muhammad smiles walking over to the chair. Mr Abdullahi smiles good naturedly 'To what do I owe this August visit?' He asks. 'Can't I visit a old friend anymore?' Mr Muhammad asks, in mock surprise. ' you know I don't mean it that way, My friend'. Mr Muhammad laughs. 'I know, my friend. I know'.
Muhammad Bello and Abdullahi Umar go way back. They grew up together in the Local government area of Makarfi Kaduna state. They went to primary, secondary school together until Abdullahi's father Mr Umar died just after Abdullahi got admission into Kaduna state University, the same time his best friend Muhammad got his they were happy that fate didn't plan on separating them anytime soon. The only difference between them was the careers they were pursuing. Muhammad was pursuing a degree in Education while Abdullahi went for a degree in medical laboratory technology. Despite being in different faculties, they did everything together. They lived off campus because they wanted freedom to go out for menial jobs at anytime. Although. Muhammad was born with a silver spoon and he didn't need the money, he always went with Abdullahi to the menial jobs, at the end of the day giving all the money they realized to Àbdùllâhï. He always said 'I don't need the money, you might as well take it. Moreover , we all know medical courses are expensive.' Abdullahi would end up accepting the offer, after several failed attempts to refuse. 'I don't know how I could ever repay you, my dear friend.' Abdullahi always says.
Muhammad meanwhile will answer good naturedly ' Don't worry the time is coming soon.' And they both will laugh fondly.
'Muhammad, how have you been?'.
'I've never been better, Abdullahi. I can see you're resting.' Mr Muhammad, commented. 'Yes, my friend. What can a man do? Retirement can be boring.' Mr Muhammad can't resist laughing. 'But you have the affairs of the people to deal with.' He says. 'That's one thing keeping me sane right now, my friend.' 'I can see that.' Mr Muhammad ,nods.
'Ermm, so as not to beat around the bush. My friend, I came to talk to you.' Mr Muhammad says, with an expression of seriousness on his face.
'About what, don't tell me you plan a taking a third wife?' Mr Abdullahi, teases his old friend.
'Haha. Mr Muhammad laughs. 'I wouldn't dare. Two wives are enough my friend, times are hard' . he says
Mr Abdullahi nods. 'Now you know'
'I know right. He agrees. 'Now back to what I was saying, it's about your daughter, Sadeeqa.' 'What about her?' Mr Abdullahi asks, like he couldn't care less. Mr Muhammad doesn't let his flippant attitude discourage him. He knows his friend and he can say he loves his daughter more than any of his children regardless of what he does or says.
'It's about her tuition. The WAEC examination is coming soon and you well know the deadline for payment is next week, but you haven't said anything regarding her own registration.' He explains, calmly. 'Your daughter is brilliant, in fact she's one of the students I'm proud if having in my school. She's hardworking and obedient, she deserves to further her education, my friend.'
He's observing his friend's expressions as he says all this. He knows his friend is not pleased but he can't, won't give up on that girl who has a very bright future ahead of her.
'Abdullahi, he continues. 'You are educated enough and you of all people should know the importance of the girl child's education. In fact I'm
surprised I have to be here talking to you about this kind of things. In fact if you feel you'll be wasting money on her education, I'm ready to accept full responsibility of her education from now on, and I'm sure you will be amazed by the end result.' He concludes.
Mr Abdullahi sighs, seemingly weighing all his friend told him. 'My friend, you of all people know I'm fully capable of sending all my children to school, but it's not that. She's a girl, her mates are married. I know I shouldn't be saying this but we all know how spoilt College girls are. I don't want that for my daughter.' He says worriedly.
'Abdullahi, you know your daughter. You know how you trained her. I've done my part and what I know much is that you'd regret not sending thus girl to school while you had the chance. Do what you want with her, I live you in peace.' He stands up to leave. 'Are you leaving already my friend?' 'Yes, I am . I have to get back to school ASAP. I'll see you around'. He rises, walking out of the door not even giving his friend a chance to see him off. Probably because he is so disappointed- yes disappointment not anger is what he feels towards his friend.