AUREN FARI
She moved swiftly, almost as if she were floating on air. In her hand, she held a bowl of manja soup, a meal she had prepared earlier for her visit to the hospital. However, as she had left it at home, she returned to collect it. An urgency compelled her, fearing that Yaya Abba might return to the mosque and find out she had left without her meal, which he had instructed her to deliver that day. In a hurry, she dashed back home to retrieve the forgotten soup.
As she hurried along, her thoughts raced, consumed by the task at hand. She seemed oblivious to her surroundings. Suddenly, a voice interrupted her trance-like state. “You there, Rikicha!” The voice belonged to someone who had unintentionally collided with her, causing her to spill the soup. Both of them reacted instinctively, the collision pushing them against a wall. The scalding soup splashed onto the person, and he cried out in pain.
Recovering from the initial shock, she responded in exasperation, “Madam, what kind of clumsiness is this? Don’t you see that you could have thrown me into the soup if you spoiled my new Islamic hijab? After all the trouble you’ve caused us, can’t you walk properly and watch where you’re going?”
The person, still trying to wipe away the pain in his eyes, had not noticed that a crowd had gathered around them. Someone from the crowd intervened and pushed her, trying to separate the two. She resisted, holding onto her waist, and said, “Are you going to let her get away with this? It’s a pity that today you’ll have to compensate me for my lost soup and hijab. Do you even understand the value of the goods you’ve destroyed?” She gestured to her ruined hijab.
Infuriated, the person retorted, “Shut up!” and attempted to grab her, but others in the crowd quickly restrained him, cautioning him not to escalate the situation. He eventually let her go, and she stood there defiantly, staring at him.
Just then, Yaya Abba emerged from the mosque and noticed the commotion. Approaching the scene, he saw her, “Umaimah,” and expressed his disappointment. He scolded her for leaving her hospital duties unfinished. When they entered the mosque, he began to scold her more harshly and even slapped her a couple of times. However, she explained to him how she had misplaced her charger, and her aunt corroborated her story.
The food was a loss, and Yaya Abba paid for it with oil and spices. Umaimah had experienced hardships and abuse since her time in her father’s house, enduring beatings and scarcity of food and education. It was her marriage that had offered her respite from those hardships.
After this incident, Umaima’s life continued without much interference from Sam, as they distanced themselves from her, considering her a source of humiliation. She spent her time helping people in the neighborhood with various chores, and they appreciated her for not causing trouble anymore.
In the following weeks, Umaima rarely stayed at home. She was often found at Alhaji Yakuba’s house, helping with holiday tasks, particularly renovating rooms. They had grown fond of her, and she felt welcomed there. Her life was gradually regaining some peace, despite the occasional frustrations.
That day had finally arrived. At six o’clock, as he prepared for his sacred work, he was feeling a sense of anticipation. As he descended the stairs, his friends teased him about his appearance, but he paid little attention. Hajia, his mother, called him over, asking if he was ready. She had prepared a wardrobe of clothing for him to choose from for the party, and she insisted he make a selection before leaving.