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ASMAU
"I wonder who's here this early," I mumbled to myself. I swiftly unlocked and opened the door to reveal a tall, fair-skinned woman who seemed to be in her early thirties, elegantly dressed in a black Abaya and a matching veil. "Hello, how may I help you?" I asked, warmly.
"I'm here for my family," she replied with a smile.
"Your family?" I repeated, puzzled by her words. I studied her closely; she didn't appear to be Nigerian; she seemed to be more Arab or perhaps a mixed heritage. Her striking beauty gave me a feeling that I was familiar with her face, though I couldn't place where I might have seen her before.
"May I come in, so we can discuss further?" she asked politely. After a moment of hesitation, I nodded and stepped aside to allow her to enter.
She walked into the house majestically, taking a seat on one of the sofas. I excused myself to the kitchen to instruct the maid to prepare some refreshments for our unexpected guest.
Returning to the living room, I couldn't help but speak, "I feel like you are lost, miss,"
She shook her head and replied, "You've got it all wrong. I'm exactly where I should be. But first where is Abubakar and the kids?" She asked, crossing her legs as the maid placed the refreshments on the table.
I furrowed my brows, puzzled by her question. "Why are you asking about them?"
"Well, I just want to see them. Did Abubakar mention anything about me?" She asked, curiously.
I shook my head. "No, he didn't mention anything about a visitor."
She chuckled softly. "I'm not just a visitor, Asmau."
I simply nodded, not understanding what she meant. Just then, Abubakar descended the stairs, looking as handsome as ever in his ash long-sleeve shirt and matching sweatpants.
"Who are you—" he began but was abruptly silenced when he sighted our guest.
"Iman, what the hell are you doing in my house? I thought I made it clear that you should never set foot here again!" His voice rose in anger as he pointed accusingly at her. It suddenly dawned on me; this was Iman, Abubakar's ex-wife and the mother of his children. Abubakar turned to me, his gaze questioning.
"Did she say anything to you?" he demanded.
Before I could respond, Iman rose from her seat, "With all due respect Abubakar, you can't prevent me from visiting my kids and checking on them. I have every right as their mother."
Abubakar seems frustrated, "You lost those rights the day you left, Iman. Your presence here will only bring pain to my kids. I warned you not to come here, but you refused."
Iman stood her ground. "I know you warned me to stay away from your home, but trust me, I'm not here to cause trouble. All I want is to see my children."
"Enough of this nonsense!" Abubakar yelled. I remained silent, observing the heated exchange.
"Perhaps we should calm down and—" Before I could finish my sentence, Safeeya and Noorie rushed down the stairs, interrupting the tension.
"Mummy, Mummy, look at what Ya Safeeya did to my toy," Noorie exclaimed, meanwhile Safeeya froze as she spotted Iman. "Ammi?" she whispered in shock.
"Yes Safeeya, my darling daughter," Iman replied, pulling Safeeya into a loving embrace. "I've missed you so much, my darling."
The sight melted my heart thoroughly. Although Iman was at fault for leaving them, I knew it wasn't something easy leaving your kids behind. She was still their mother either ways.
"I missed you Ammi, but, why did you leave?" Safeeya asked as they pulled away.
"Feeyah, I had my reasons. But I promise that I'm back for good now, sweetheart," Iman assured her, wiping away Safeeya's tears. She then turned to Noorie.
"Noorie, my love, you've grown so much. The last time I saw you, you were just a little baby, and now you're such a big girl. Come here and give Momma a hug." She enveloped Noorie in a warm embrace as well.
I glanced at Abubakar; his face was etched with frustration and annoyance. "Alright, that's enough, Iman. You've seen the kids, so I think it's better you leave," he said firmly.
Iman began pleading, "Please, Abubakar, give me a chance to bond with them for a little while. I promise I won't ask for anything else after this."
Safeeya chimed in, "Why don't you stay here with us, Ammi, at least for now?"
Iman shook her head, "No, darling, it's clear that I'm not welcome here. I don't want to be a burden. But I'll do my best to visit you often so we can catch up. Besides, you're always welcome to come visit me at my place. My door is always open for you and your siblings."
"Ammi, you can't leave again. Please. Daddy, allow Ammi to stay with us," Safeeya pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes.
"I'm sorry Safeeya, but she can't stay here," Abubakar responded, keeping a straight face.
"Come on, Daddy. Please! Just this once," she cried out, turning to face me, "Mummy, please," she added. Witnessing Safeeya like that broke my heart, and I couldn't bear to see her in pain.
"Of course, why not?" I said, shrugging off Abubakar's disbelieving look.
"Yes! Thanks Mummy. Ammi, did you hear that? You can stay with us," Safeeya squealed.
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Abubakar chimed in.
"Daddy, please allow Ammi to stay. For my sake," Safeeya pleaded once more. She looked so desperate.
Abubakar let out a sigh, "Okay," He agreed.
"Yes! Ammi, let's go up so I can show you my room," Safeeya exclaimed, taking Iman's hand and leading her upstairs. As they left, I turned to Noorie, who seemed lost in thought.
"Mummy, is she our real mama?" Noorie asked, innocently.
"Yes, baby, she is," I replied softly, feeling a pang in my chest.
"Okay, but you will always be my mama, right?" she asked again.
"Of course, Noorie, I will always be your mama," I said, with a small smile.
"Noorie, nothing will change. Asmau is and will forever be your mum," Abubakar reassured, stepping closer to us.
"Yes, always," I added, with a slight smile. After Noorie went off to play, we retreated to our room upstairs.
"Asmau, why did you agree for Iman to stay here?" Abubakar asked, with concern, as we entered the room.
"I'm sorry, Habibi, I just didn't want to break Feeya's heart. She looked so happy seeing Iman, and I just couldn't say no," I explained, my voice heavy with sadness.
"But Iman will do nothing but cause trouble for us, Asmau. I know her," Abubakar argued.
"Abubakar, please understand me. I'm doing this for the kids, but you're judging me," I pleaded, tears welling up in my eyes.
"No, no, no, Hayatie, I'm sorry. You are right, so don't cry, please. I hate seeing you in tears. Please don't," he said, pulling me close to his body and gently rubbing my back.
"Why didn't you tell me that you met with her the other day?" I asked, after we broke out of the hug.
"I'm sorry. I didn't think it was important," he replied, in remorse.
"What do you mean, Abubakar? Of course, it's important. I'm your wife, for God's sake. You met your ex-wife and didn't feel the need to tell me. At least trust me, mana," I raised my voice.
"Asmau, I trust you so much, but I warned her not to come close to you or the kids, and I thought she would at least listen to me and wait for the right time. But yes, I should have told you. I'm sorry, Hayatie," he apologized sincerely.
"When did you meet with her?" I inquired.
"I think it was a day before you broke the news about you being pregnant. She came to my office and demanded—or let's say argued about—seeing the kids," he explained.
"Wait, isn't it the day we fought about staying out late for my shopping? So, she's the reason you were so mad that day and vented your anger on me?" I asked.
"Yes, she was actually the reason I was mad, and I vented my anger on you. I'm so sorry, Hayatie. Please forgive me," he apologized.
"The past is in the past, but please trust me a little more and share your secrets with me, Abubakar. At least we should be finding solutions to your problems together," I pleaded.
"Yes, in sha Allah, but don't be sad. Cheer up, please. Princess, tell your mum to cheer up a little," he bent down and gently rubbed my growing belly.
"She said you should cheer up," he whispered, placing a light kiss on my forehead.
"Okay, I will cheer up. But how do you know it's a girl?" I asked, a smile playing on my lips.
"Just my instincts," he shrugged, with a smile.
"Okay, since you said so," I laughed lightly.
"Yes, babe," he stared at me affectionately.
"Habiby, I better go start preparing breakfast since we have a guest," I said, referring to Iman's presence.
"Will you stop reminding me?" he groaned out loud, and I couldn't help but laugh at his reaction.
"Bye," I said, ready to leave when he pulled me back, his lips meeting mine in a kiss.
"Okay, now you can go," he said, after we broke apart.
"I love you," I whispered, my heart filled with love.
"Love you more," he winked, and I strolled out of the room.
"So, what will I make for breakfast today?" I pondered in my mind.
Saratu, traveled last week, so work has been hectic in the household. I kind of miss her, even though she's coming back tomorrow. After giving it much thought, I decided to make pancakes.
Twenty minutes later, I was done with everything. I arranged the dining table and grabbed the serving tray and other utensils. On my way out of the kitchen, I bumped into Iman. "Ooh, I'm sorry," she apologized.
"It's okay. Do you need anything?" I asked, trying my best to be polite.
"No, I just came in to get a cup of water," she paused and looked at the plates in my hands. "So, you cooked?" she asked.
"Yes, I did. Is there a problem?" I responded, slightly taken aback.
"No, it's just that when I was married to Abubakar, I never cooked. He never allowed me. He treated me like an egg. But now, look at you. Even though you're pregnant, he allows you to cook. It's surprising, or maybe—" she was interrupted before she could finish her sentence.
"First of all, I love cooking. It's something I enjoy doing. And secondly, maybe Abubakar didn't allow you to cook because you're bad at it. No offense, but he told me you were a spoilt brat who didn't know how to do anything. I am very good at cooking. Want to taste? Come, let's move to the dining area. Or do you have something else to say?" I raised an eyebrow, not holding back.
"Yes, I do, Asmau. I don't think there was a reason to be rude, right?" she responded, her voice laced with anger.
"Oh, I'm sorry if you think I was rude. For me, I was just stating the fact—the truth," I retorted, not backing down.
"Is there anything wrong here?" Abubakar's voice broke through as he entered the kitchen.
"No, there isn't any problem. I'll go get the kids," Iman said, storming out of the kitchen. I sighed in relief.
Abubakar looked at me questioningly. "What happened between you two?" he asked.
"Nothing, Habiby. Let's just go," I replied, taking him out of the kitchen. We all settled at the table and began eating.
"Yummy! Mummy, I love your pancakes. They're so delicious," Noorie commented, bringing a smile to my face.
"Thank you, baby. Take it easy with the Nutella," I chuckled.
"Okay," she replied, digging in eagerly.
"So, Noorie, you love pancakes, right? I can make one for you. I make the best pancakes, even sweeter than Asmau's. I learned it in the UK," Iman chimed in.
"Okay, maybe later, but your pancakes can never be tastier than my Mummy's," Noorie confidently replied. I turned to look at Iman, who was fuming with anger. Serves her right.
"Come on, Noorie. You haven't even tasted Ammi's pancakes, and you're already choosing Mummy's. It's not fair," Safeeya interjected, rolling her eyes.
Wow!
"Safeeya, it's her choice, and I'm sure your Mummy's pancakes are the best," Abubakar supportively said, causing me to blush.
"Well, I don't care. Mummy, your pancakes were delicious, but I'm sure my Ammi's pancakes will be even more delicious...right, Ammi?" Safeeya asked, determined to defend her Ammi.
"Yes, darling," Iman responded with a smirk.
"Well Ya Feeyah, it's only if you don't know what tastes good that you would think Ammi's pancakes are better than my Mummy's. And I'm sure if Ya Ansar were here, he would take Mummy's side," Noorie chimed in, standing up for me.
"Who cares? You and Ansar are just a bunch of dummies," Safeeya insulted.
"Kids! Will you stop fighting? That's enough!" Abubakar's stern voice filled the room.
"Daddy, sorry," Noorie apologized sincerely, while Safeeya simply rolled her eyes.
After the scolding, we continued eating in a tensed atmosphere. When we finished, I collected the plates and headed to the kitchen.
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Edited version✨
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