A LOKACIN NE
She sat at the prayer spot in her home, her hand slowly moving the white prayer beads, but in her heart, she was preoccupied with thoughts of her son, Umar. She wondered where he was and if he was safe.
Raising her head, she glanced at the clock on the wall. The time read ten o’clock, then eleven. Anxiety crept over her as the minutes passed. She had risen from her prayers earlier, fearing that Umar might return as she suspected.
Maji had observed her son becoming entangled in a troublesome life, influenced by the negative company he kept. Instead of supporting him and providing the guidance she believed he lacked, people around them gossiped and spoke ill of her son. This constant criticism added to Maji’s worry and stress. In her eyes, Umar was just like their own children, and she held him close to her heart, praying for his well-being.
She raised her gaze again to the wall clock. It was nearing midnight, and the anxiety within her grew stronger. She had barely finished her thoughts when a knock sounded at her door.
Her visitor didn’t wait for a greeting and immediately asked, “Where is your son, Umar?”
Maji remained silent, familiar with the questioning tone regarding her son.
The visitor continued, “I’ve heard he’s living a reckless life. You keep defending him, but it’s clear he’s going astray. Everyone knows.”
Maji sighed softly, “I wish I could help him, but how can I change his path when he’s surrounded by bad influences? I worry for him.”
The visitor only responded with a dismissive nod and left her room, slamming the door behind him.
Maji’s heart sank at her husband’s harsh words about her beloved son, the one she had cherished above all. He was her only son in the house, while her co-wives had more children. She was the third wife of Mr. Habu, a successful businessman. Mama Hawa, the first wife, had seven children and worked at a women’s center. Mama Asiya, the second wife, had five children and was a teacher. Anty Kubura, the fourth wife, had four children and worked as a nurse.
Maji was not employed due to her limited education, having only completed the fourth grade of secondary school. Her marriage to the teacher had meant she stayed home and managed the household.
Despite her lack of formal education, Mr. Habu loved Maji deeply and sympathized with her circumstances.
But now, her son Umar, known as Umar Faruk, was causing friction in her marriage. It began with his choice of clothing, which didn’t conform to traditional Hausa attire. Then, his passion for football led him to spend most of his time playing. Mr. Habu had tried to encourage Umar’s talent as a footballer, but Umar’s disrespectful behavior and bad language towards his mother persisted.
Umar’s relatives were predominantly traders, except for a few carpenters, but he showed no interest in any of these trades. After his morning bath, he would head to play football with his friends, despite Maji’s constant advice and warnings.
As Mr. Habu left Maji’s side, they encountered Umar entering the house. His father looked at him with disappointment.
“Hello, Dad,” Umar greeted politely.
Mr. Habu replied, “You’re always well-mannered when you greet me, but your actions say otherwise. If I don’t see a change in you, you won’t be welcome in this house.”