~May Allah be with those muslim brothers & sisters of ours that are in pain, may He be with us all. Also, your prayers matter in so many ways too.
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Enjoy!
ABUJA, NIGERIA.
It was a disaster she so badly avoided. How did it happen? She had no idea.
Well, she did, but at the same time didn’t.
Alas, there was no need for her to ponder over what had already happened. All she knew was that there’s little time for her to prepare an apology speech—whatever that meant. And it was a great deal of time to do that.
Most -if not all- Nigerian parents aren’t easy to convince with just a few words. Hers weren’t an exception.
Nonetheless, it was a disaster. A huge one at that. And what was she doing? Nada, Ayma wasn’t running, just standing. Confused, right? One ought to be, considering the fact that a ‘huge’ mishap had only occurred by her ‘passion’ for cooking and even baking.
Tiny splashes of chocolate cake batter decorated the kitchen walls. Flour particles scattered on the work surface, floors, and even her hair despite the cap that managed to slide off. Maybe wanting to do something good for the family proved to not be a good idea.
If any of her family members were to enter the kitchen at the moment, she’d never hear the end of it, for sure. Standing in the midst of it all, Ayma simply continued to stare blankly at the now empty bowl beside her foot.
Why? Why was all this happening to her? It was true that she couldn’t cook to save her life. Still, she asked herself, why did she have to love it?
Just why?!
Hearing the light footsteps approaching the kitchen, her head snapped to the door. It couldn’t be their parents because both were still at their workplaces. So it most probably was her siblings.
‘Ya Allah, please let it not be Aleena. Let it not be Aleena. Let it not be A--’
“Sala--”
The person’s words were cut short upon the sight that graced them. Aleena’s eyes swept over the room, jaw hung low in puzzlement. What happened? Who did this? The huge glass container for the flour was left open, the lid by the cooker.
Egg shells were scattered on the counter and even the floors—the cocoa powder that -one way or the other- was on the little visible puddle of egg whites looked gross to the eyes. The once white tiled counter was turned into an unrecognizable disgusting sight.
Again, who did this? What if her parents were to see this? Because they sure would be disappointed in her.
The pregnant silence that followed right after what her eyes had witnessed was killed.
Then her eyes landed on the twelve year-old that had her eyes casted on the floured tiles below them. “Ayma Omais Yusuf!” She called out to her youngest sibling. “Me kika yi [What did you do]?” Aleena’s words came in whispers.
“Ya Leena,” she didn’t even know where to start from—or how to. “Don’t tell me you were trying to cook again? No, let me rephrase that, don’t tell me you were trying to burn down the kitchen again?” The younger girl felt as though she was between the rock and a hard place. Was it rhetorical or...?
“Ya Leena it was--”
“An accident?” Aleena interrupted. “Ayma, you cannot cook, for crying out loud. Look at this kitchen.” She gestured with her hands. “How did it happen?” She asked, standing akimbo.
Despite her months of being away from home, she was starting to regret coming back. Most of Aleena’s life was no doubt in Nigeria; but Stanford played a huge and important role too. She was twenty when she began med school, it’s been almost a little over two years—she’d be a huge liar to say she didn’t miss her foreign friends.
Nonetheless, been home again was another great feeling on its own. She missed her family, even her rebellious youngest sister, Ayma—who she undoubtedly loved more. But now with the state their kitchen was in, she was starting to ponder over her words.
Ayma began to explain herself, “Wallahi Ya Leena, I only thought of doing something good for the family—especially with you back home after my months of missing you, I thought it was a great idea. I thought that it would work out this time, I swear. I even thought --”
She interrupted, “Ayma, can you just stop saying that word? I only asked you to explain yourself, not to tell me your thoughts for God’s sake,” Aleena rubbed her temples.
Ayma looked ready to cry at any moment from then. “Okay,” she sighed. “So after I uh...mixed the batter, I was about to put the pan it was in, into the oven. But then, I slipped on this,” she briefly gestured toward what looked like spilt melted butter. “I fell, the pan fell and the batter suffered the same fate.” It hurt her to think of her little accident.
Why did she have to be born a klutz?!
“And the splashes on the walls?” Aleena inquired.
The other girl looked hesitant at first. “I got so furious, Ya Leena, so I...I scooped the little that remained of the batter and splashed it on the wall.” She was quick to add, “By Allah, Ya Aleena I never meant for this to happen. I was so so angry after the batter thing. I just wanted to do something good and it ended up bad.” She looked down.
Aleena remained wordless for a while, whilst Ayma grew more scared of the outcome of her outburst.
She really needed to learn to control her temper.
“What if mom or dad were to see this? What would you have told them?” Not knowing how to answer her older sister, Ayma was silent. “Look at me, Ayma.”
She did after a few seconds had passed. “I do understand your efforts, alright?” She asked softly, before leading them to the counter stools. “I also understand that you have the passion for cooking, but do not give up just yet because of some unavoidable silly little mistakes we all make, okay?”
Ayma slowly nodded.
“You can never make a perfect without making mistakes. Do you think the perfect cooking videos you watch don’t make mistakes? They do, but edit it. Nothing good comes easy, Ayma. You wanted to do something good as you said, and it won’t ever be good without struggles...”
She affectionately held her hands, Ayma’s eyes met hers. “...life is full of obstacles and we have to struggle to overcome those obstacles. Same for your ‘attempted’ chocolate cake. You cannot just learn something overnight without practice.”
Ayma was clearly still doubtful of herself. “Ya Leena --”
Aleena held up a finger, “let me finish,” Ayma folded her lips in.
“You just need to know the basics and keep practicing. Do not ever think of throwing away your passion just like that. Hm?”
“B-but...” The slight glare sent her way halted the words from escaping through her lips.
“No more buts. Okay, how about this? We continue the bakings together before I have to leave for med school? I still have a few months to spare with you guys until then.”
Ayma’s eyes shined with excitement and eagerness. “Really?”
Aleena’s lips tugged upward in a smile, “Really,” she nodded.
While the other’s stretched into a grin, she jumped on the stool she was on—hugging her sister in the process. “Thank you, Ya Leena. I love you.”
“I know, and I love you too. Just try to not burn down the house next time.”
Maybe a day without Ayma’s rebelliousness was...unexpected? Nonetheless, good; if not great, even.
~~~
“Yeah, talk later. Bye,” she smiled over the phone before hanging up.
Most people say a marriage with or without you earning your in-laws’ trust or having their love didn’t matter, as far as the husband likes you. To her, it did. Especially in her case where she knew her sister-in-law even before tying the knot with her brother. Sadiya was the best friend and sister one could ever ask for.
Undoubtedly, Safeenah could testify anywhere and anytime that Sadiya was a good woman. Yes, she went through a whole lot in the past. But what did she do in the end? She scaled through despite the hardships that came with it. Did she succeed? If Safeenah was to answer that question, she’d say that her sister-in-law was more than successful.
It wasn’t easy for a girl under teens to grow up with an abusive father, one who she saw as nothing less than her role model. She loved her father -even more than she did her mother- before certain situations happened and that love turned to hate—no, loathe.
Then her (Safeenah’s) husband too; Sadiya’s older brother and only sibling. Paving his way through problems upon problems, he became the man he trained himself to be. She until that day, would confidently puff her chest in pride and say she never regretted marrying Omais.
He was the best thing that ever happened to her, he always will be.
Safeenah had just left the hospital. Considering the relieving fact that there was no night shift for her, which meant enough hours to recover the sleep she lost. Even with her being a mother now, she still dedicated herself to her job and marriage too. She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t somewhat difficult to handle, but she was already used to it.
She loved her family, at the same time loved being a nurse.
Omais had gone months, pleading with her to quit her job as his was more than enough to provide for their little family, but in the end, his words fell on deaf ears when it was clear that she loved her job to even think of quitting. He understood her as the understanding husband he is.
“So,” their mother began. “what were you two up to today?” Safeenah asked after chowing down a spoonful of rice.
Omais too, leaned in to hear their daughters’ response. It was kind of interesting to see them not throwing words -he’d say are vulgar- with Ayma being ridiculously calm throughout the meal so far. Honestly, it was scary. Hence, the occasional worried glances he threw at her. On the unusual occasions you’d find the twelve year-old calm, then be sure as hell that it was nowhere near innocent.
Aleena absentmindedly shrugged, her main focus on her phone and plate. “Bonding, nothing out of the ordinary though. Then catching up and lazying around the place.” She answered, making both parents release a hum—silent Ayma eating peacefully in her own little world.
“And your books?” Omais questioned Ayma. She looked up from the ceramic she suddenly seemed to find interest in. “Smooth. IT isn’t as complex, I guess,” she replied with a pretty smile. He returned it, “I told you it is, didn’t I?”
The girl nodded. “Yeah, Dad, you did. Thanks for the lessons though.” The two fist bumped, “Always, cupcake.”
Safeenah looked at husband and daughter with a wide smile. One of the many things she loved about him was; no matter how tight his schedule was, he was always going to find time for family—even if it meant stacks of papers on his desk, waiting to be signed.
“Which means, no mischief today?” She could not help but ask.
This time, Aleena answered, “Nope! No mischief.” Ayma would be lying if she was to say her heart was not beating faster than normal.
“Well except for the fact that your daughter here, almost burnt the entire building.” Aleena blurted mindlessly.
Then there was a pause. Not even the clanks of spoons on plates.
“What?!”
It was until then that Aleena realized what she had done.
Oh shit...
~~~~
Salam!!!
How are we doing today? An update on a Tuesday? Now that’s rare, I know...
Okay so....... How was the chapter? Those of us that read Sadiya, do you remember the couple of today; Safeenah and Omais?
I could not help but include the Nigerians here, too. Though I really hope you loved the chapter. More should be expected!
Anyway, show some love by voting, commenting, and even by sharing.
Love you always ♥♥
fatymaa01.
Ma'assalam💘