June 17th.
KHADIJAH DAIHAAH'S POV
KANO, NIGERIA.
Saturday.
The day I dread most in a week.
Why?
Because I have to go my haddah school, Madarasatul Tahfeez ul Qur'an.
I love the Qur'an and everything Islamic related but not that school. I've been in it for five years now as I'm in my final year, Hadda three.
And to make matters worse, I'm only attending it because I'm on school break. But, I'll be leaving to university tomorrow, that means no more Hadda school!!
Sighing, I stood up from my comfy bed immediately missing its warmth. God I just want to go back and sleep a little more. I'm not the only one that does this right?
I seriously can't be the only one.
With one last glance at my bed and a big heart, I closed my eyes and walked to the bathroom to take a long relaxing bath because I need it. I'm still feeling sleepy. That's what I get for staying up late on the phone with Muhsin.
Muhsin is my boyfriend. We've been dating for almost two years now as I'm just 16 while he's 20. I know the age difference is a bit alarming but I don't know, I think it's better than to date someone of the same age as me whose still collecting break money from his parents just like I am. That's my own view on this though.
He graduated last year from Skyline University Dubai and he's currently doing his masters. He's super smart, and so handsome. Both his parents are Fulani so you can imagine his handsome features. His fair skin, slender pointed nose, pink sort of purplish lips, and my favorite, his curly hair. He's also so funny and kind hearted. He's your typical book guy. All my friends said I'm lucky to have him, that he's the one for me.
I just hope so.
After washing my body with some expensive shower gel, the body shop strawberry shower gel and my long hair with a vanilla shampoo, I stepped out of the shower and put on my robe before walking out of the bathroom.
I sat on the chair in front of my mirror and applied my Strawberry Softening Gel lotion.
My father isn't exactly the richest man alive. He's a business man into marketing and Masha Allah he's well known. He has two wives, his first wife being Umma and then my mother, Ummi.
Umma isn't the nicest woman alive, in fact she's the cruelest woman I've ever came across. She's that kind of over jealous first wife. She never hides her wickedness in front of anyone, not even in Abba's presence. She always calls my mom a witch and all sorts of name because I'm Ummi's only child, that's what she use to insult Ummi every chance she gets. Abba doesn't like the way Umma treats Ummi, and believe me, he would've divorced her long ago except for the fact of old age and children that he has with her. It's like the love between them never existed for I grew up never seeing the love between them unlike he and Ummi, that always makes Umma dead jealous but he still tries to do justice and be fair to both of them.
Our house isn't a mansion. No, but it's a big house with three moderate flats each on different side of the house far from the others. One is for Abba, one for Umma and the other for Ummi. We moved into this house ten years ago because in our old house that was just a simple medium size house, Umma's always causing a fight one way or the other.
Umma has 7 Children. Four males and three females. Ya Abdul being her first son and the eldest in the family, he's nothing like Umma. He's nice but strict, he is 32 and married to a Fulani lady, Habibah. Ya Abba being the second born and an exact replica of Umma—same attitude, he's 29 and still a bachelor. Ya Audu is the third born, he's the money obsessed freak. His character depends on whether he's broke or not and whether he's exactly like Umma or not. If he's broke, he's worse than Umma. If he has money, he can be the nicest person alive. In other words, he can do anything for money. He's 27 and still single. Ya Moh is the fourth born in the family. He's nothing like his brothers. He's nice, funny, carefree and definitely my favorite. He's 25.
Moving on to the girls, there's Adda Aneesa,or Anee. She's the diva, the drama Queen and the fashionista. She's the beauty Queen, and the self obsessed one amongst the siblings. She's constantly moving from one rich boyfriend to another yet she's still not married. But, underneath all that, she's nice and caring.
She's a model and is also 20 years old. The next is Aaliyah, she's a trouble maker, and a nuisance. She's disrespectful and disobedient. She's in her Ss1 currently, she's 14 years old. Then finally, Baby Ammah, she's a sweetheart, but a trouble maker. Other than that, she's pretty amazing. She's 11 years old.
Being an only child has its good side too. I get everything-the looks, the attention, the love and care. I'm half Shuwa Arab, half Fulani. I'm dark skinned, but not too dark. Regardless, I love my dark skin because black is beautiful. I got the eyes, nose, lips and hair that fall over my shoulders. Basically I got it all. Or so I thought.
I always get whatever I want, whenever I want from my mother, Perks of being an only child. Although I also get anything I want from Abba too, he's the best father ever.
After dressing up in my uniform which is blue in color with a green head tie, I picked up my bag and slipped my phone in to it. So technically, it's not allowed to go to school with phone, but it's not always you abide by the rules right?
Immediately I stepped out of my room, the sweet aroma of my mom's food hit my nostrils making my stomach growl loudly.
I quickly walked downstairs to our medium size kitchen and saw my mom by the gas cooker cooking breakfast.
"Assalamu Alaikum, Ina kwana Ummi na" I greeted keeping my eyes on the pot in which she's cooking the food in it, my mouth getting watery by each passing second as I stare at the mouth watery food.
"Wa alaikissalam. Lafiya Dijeh na" she teased. She know how much I hate that name, Dijeh,kaman wani sunan qauye.
"Haba Ummi please stop calling me that" I whined stomping my feet on the floor making her laugh.
Call me a child if you want, but I am not a spoiled brat. You know that feeling of being pampered when you're an only child, that's exactly the feeling I get all the time.
"Ok Kubrah na, now get the plates, I know you're hungry" she said turning the gas cooker off.
I happily walked to the kitchen cabinets and took out three plates, one for me, one for Ummi and one for Abba.
I placed them on the dining table and went back to the kitchen to pick up the food warmers that Ummi put the food she made into.
I picked up Abba's coffee mug. I know how much he loves coffee in the morning. For Ummi and me, I just picked up our two cups of tea and kept them all on the dining table.
Just then, Abba came out of his room all dressed up in his grey jallabiya which looks really good on him, as always.
"Good morning Abba na" I greeted and he smiled sitting on his seat. Ummi took the seat to his right, while I sat to his left.
"Good morning to you too mamana" he replied. I was named after my paternal grandmother, so Abba always calls me 'mamana' unlike ummi who always calls me 'dijeh'. Just imagine, she's calling me, that was named after her mother in law by the way, with that name.
"You're leaving for school tomorrow koh?" He asked after taking a sip from his coffee.
"Yes, Abba" I replied smiling widely. Don't blame me, I'm a freshman going to University after six years of secondary school. Honestly, the last two years of secondary school were too boring, all I wanted to do was to write my WAEC and NECO so that I'll never ever have to wear a uniform again.
"Sai wani dadi takeji Don zata tafi university, eyya my daughter, after first semester you'll no longer want to go to university again, you'd prefer the secondary school ma" Ummi said eating a spoonful of her food.
"I don't think so. Haba Ummi do you know how much I love Uni ne?" I said making my dad chuckle
"We'll see mamanah" he said with a warm smile on his face
***
I arrived at school 30 min later. I knew I already late, I peeked through the window of our class only to see the discipline master, Ya Mu'allim sheikh Shafi'i
"حسنا حسنا. خديجة ، يا لها من مفاجأة جميلة ، تأخرت مرة أخرى
hasanaan hasana. khadijatan , ya laha min mufaja'at jamilat , ta'akharat marat 'ukhraa.
Well,well. khadijah,what a lovely surprise,you're late again
" He said not looking in my direction.
How does he even knows I'm standing here?
I mustered enough courage and walked into the class. I hope this ends well else I'm done.
Ya Allah see me through this