She stood there, puzzled and unable to make a move that will make her escape from this dilemma she had put herself into. She squirmed and he flashed her a deadly glare, without even waiting for an order from him, Fadwa stuttered the words out.
"I want to pray, and there's no praying mat in the kitchen I could use. I want to get my black veil I left here." It was hard, for she wasn't able to look into his eyes and utter the words, and her hands were fidgeting each other that Fadwa got scared she might wound herself.
"Go away!" If this wasn't his favorite phrase, then Fadwa would love to know what is, because he had used it more than she cared to count since her arrival in his house. She rushed out of the corridor and went back to the kitchen, staring at the sparkly clean tiles and she muttered to herself.
"Ya Allah, forgive me if this tiled floor has even an ounce of najasah, forgive me Ya rabb." And she stood straight and faced the qibla before she started offering her zuhr prayer. She finished and was saying her azkhars when she heard his laughter from the living room, she knew it would soon be time for lunch, and by rabb she didn't know what to cook for this narcissistic and arrogant boss of hers. A pout adorned her lips before she walked out of the kitchen.
She prowled and met him watching the television while having a call with someone she understood to be his mother, due to how he was whining and laughing at the same time. And the sudden urge to feel herself in the embrace of her Ammi rushed to her veins, she pouted. He looked her way and his demeanor changed in whole, Fadwa knew she was into another trouble again.
"Mamitah, I have a complaint too, why would you choose a poor and wrecked lady to be my maid for god sake? Would you imagine? This girl cooked indomie for me as breakfast, Indomie, Mamitah." There was a long pause before he answered hesitatingly and motioned for Fadwa to get the phone from his hand.
He didn't mean that! How in the whole world would she speak to his mother? If he as the son is as arrogant and malicious as this, how would his mother? Don't judge Fadwa! Her inner subconscious warned and she took hesitating steps towards him and was sharp in holding his phone that almost slipped out of her hands.
"Assalamu Alaikum, good afternoon, Hajia." Her voice was shaking, and her left hand was doing all it takes not to let his phone slip off her hand.
"What is your name? And why in the whole world would you cook indomie to him as a breakfast?" That was sharp, Fadwa thought and braced herself for more heart wrenching words to come.
"My name is Fadwa, and I'm so sorry for cooking that to him because I have no idea what he wants for breakfast. I'll never repeat that again, trust me." He learnt her lesson when he asked of her name and she told him her full name, she might've hated Baffah, but hearing someone insulting him and downgrading him as a father would hurt as much as it would, if Baffah was a good father to them.
"Hold it back there, young lady. Hold your sorry to yourself. I paid you for this work, not that there aren't fancy restaurants in Yola for him to order whatever it is he wants to eat at the hour he wants, but it's because he doesn't eat anything cooked outside his home. If I wanted, I can hire a chef from France just for him. It's better to take your job serious and do what is right. I'll send the timetable of what you should be cooking for him for a month, let's see where it goes. Hand him the phone back."
She gulped down a lump in her throat and handed Maheer his phone back before she rushed back to the kitchen to steady her beating heart. The woman had an accent Fadwa couldn't decipher where she came from, but it was surely not african, she would love to hear her speak in Hausa or Fulfulde, did she even know something like Fulani ever existed on earth? Fadwa doubted.
She wondered how the woman would look, would she be fair like her son? Or she would have those blue eyes that always scared her? How would his female siblings look like? She heard him talking to them over the phone in the morning. Was she the one that furnished this house? If yes, she surely have a good taste in fashion.
'What has gotten into your head, Fadwa? Why would you be thinking about his family as if you have gone out of your mind? Get a grip of yourself.' Her inner subconscious warned and Fadwa took in the lines of her thoughts, she brushed away his thoughts and remembered her family. Have they eaten? Were they able to get something for breakfast today? It's time for lunch already, Sabeehah have eaten or not? She didn't bother herself much about Majida because she knew she would enter Baffah's room and won't come out unless he gave her his leftover of breakfast. That's what always happened during weekends.
She was deep into the thoughts of her problems when she heard him called her name from the living room, and she rushed out, almost tumbling on the end of her skirt.
"My lunch should be ready by 3pm and dinner should be made before you leave and that's by 8pm." He said and kept tapping in his iPad before he handed her the phone, a video playing in it.
"Here, you can have the tutorial of whatever it is you want to cook and Mamitah's timetable is also there. I believe you said you're writing exams right? That means you are educated be it a speck of sand. Now, go away!" He hated her presence, so much more than he had ever hated something in his life. He hissed as he watched her retreating back entering the kitchen, taking his book before he muted the television's sound. It was time to get lost in his fictional journey.
•
Fadwa could feel her heart jumping with joy the moment she sighted their house's metal door, she hopped down from the machine and paid the man before she walked towards the house, smiling as her hand brushed the stack of money he threw at her face when she was about to leave.
She fought back her tears when she remembered what he said as he threw the money at her face "I can pay thousands of people with this everyday without getting tired of it, make sure you do what is right if you don't want your family roaming in the streets. And also, you should take along with the left over food I ate, I can't have my house smelling of spoilt food."
She wanted to retaliate and tell him her family weren't roaming the streets, and his money would never put a roof over their heads even if they were. She wanted to tell him it wasn't because they have nothing to eat that she worked for him, she too had a life, she knew what love and compassion was. But she bite her lips and went back to the kitchen, a part of her heart was happy that her family would be able to be eating a well nourished food from today onwards. She can do this because of them.
She pushed the door forward and it creaked ajar, making a squeaking sound. Sabeehah was seated on the stone outside their kitchen while Ammi was inside, fanning the firewoods that weren't ready to fire up. The little girl ran to her and hugged her, she was happy to finally see her sister back.
"Addah Fadwa, I so much missed you. Where have you been?" Sabeebah inquired, as she guided them to the spread out mat on the small courtyard of their house. Fadwa sat down and place Sabeehah on her laps.
"I went to work, you want Addah Fadwa to always bring you sweet foods like this right? Let me show you what I brought." She began opening the leather that had the food in when Ammi emerged out of the kitchen, smiling fleetingly and inquiringly at Fadwa.
"I thought you would follow Abban Nadia back home, it's already 8pm, Fadwa." Ammi said and sat on the mat, looking at the food Fadwa had already started feeding Sabeehah from.
She smiled apologetically at her mother and answered. "I myself thought I would follow him back, but my boss said I should wait and cook dinner for him, he eat dinner by 8pm and he doesn't eat unless homemade foods. I'm sorry, Ammi. Here's the salary and I'll be bringing back food always." She handed Ammi the money and motioned the food with her hand, smiling tiredly.
Ammi counted the money and tears of joy cascaded down her cheeks. "Alhamdulillah, Fadwa. May Allah put his barkah in this money. I'll keep the 30k aside so on Monday you can take it to school for the payment, and the remaining we will go to the market tomorrow with Majida and buy us some foodstuffs and also the goods to start up a local business at home. What do you think?"
"That's the perfect idea, Ammi. Allah waddu sa'a. I haven't seen Majida around, or she isn't eager to see me back?" Fadwa asked, looking around to see where Majida would emerge from.
Ammi heaved a sigh and her expression changed from thrilled to glum. "They had a fight with your father in the morning, and he gave her the beating of her life." She was trying so hard not to let her tears cascade down her cheeks, but the pain was too much she couldn't hold them back, and so she cried under the gazes of her daughters.
"What did she do to him? And where's she now?" Fadwa asked, agitated.
"Just because she entered his room and met him having his luxurious breakfasts as usual and she insisted he give us even if it's 100 naira to buy pap and cake beans. You know how adamant they could all be, and she angered him because of her stubbornness. She's sleeping inside, headache."
"What does this mean, Ammi? You all didn't eat anything today? Subhanallah!" She had to cry, not because of Majida alone, her family in general. How would a six years old girl go on with her daily activities without taking anything as breakfast, lunch and dinner? Ya ilahi.
She thought about them, she thought about them when she was eating the indomie Maheer poured on her body, that too when she was too hungry to move a hand. She ate the indomie cold, but she still thought about her family and was relieved that it was a Saturday and she was sure Majida would collect something from Baffah for their upkeep. She was wrong, even Majida today got her own beating.
"I need to see her," Fadwa whispered and placed Sabeehah on Ammi's laps before she entered the room, tears rushing down her cheeks. What kind of life is this? She had met her worst nightmare in the body of Maheer Aliyu Shagari, and now her own father in the devil of her dreams.
She rushed towards Majida and helped her sat upright, ranting numerous sorry's to her. Upon seeing her, Majida burst into tears and hugged her, so tight she thought her life depended on her. "I hate him, Addah Fadwa. I hate him with every fibre of my being. Please be successful and take us away from this man, and we should watch him die like he watched..." before she could finish, Fadwa closed her lips with head shaking and her eyes emoting the pain in her heart through her tears.
"No matter how bad he is, he's your father and nothing can ever change that. Everything will be fine, trust me." She said, returning back the hug with so much intensity.
I'm a good girl🤩💖