Fa'iza Mubarak Hakimi.

I had a nightmare last night, that Ruqayya died. And when I woke up this morning, she was sneaking cold yogurt into her room. I caught her red-handed and all she did was smile at me and bolt into her room when she heard Ummi's voice.

I don't even know why I care about her sometimes. She obviously doesn't care about herself, so why should I even bother?

Maybe it's because I've grown to consider her a sister more than a cousin. And sisters care about each other, right?

"Mama na? Ina ta miki magana." Ummi's voice drags me out of my train of thoughts and my blurring vision clears as I look at her.

"Na'am?" She and Abba share a look before she turns to me with a small comforting smile. I don't feel comforted, not in the least bit. Not when the source of my problems is sitting beside me, looking at the man in front of her from time to time, and eating like she isn't risking her life with those two ice cubes in her juice.

"Lafiya?" I nod, managing a smile I fail at. I simply drop my head back to my plate, fork playing around with my chips.

Before I can control my mouth, I say something.

"Ruqayya sneaked cold yogurt up to her room very early this morning." I hear Ruqayya's dramatic gasp beside me, like I just said she is a drama student, and not an English student. It's an inside joke a lot of people won't get but it's not the point here.

I dare not look at Ruqayya, knowing she's going to give me on her famous disgusted looks.

"Ke Ruqayya bakya jiran kanki koh?" Abba says with a deep frown. Ummi looks at me like I just spilled her two decades old secret. Didn't she tell Abba about Ruqayya's attack yesterday?

"Abba, I don't know what Fa'iza is talking about fah. Tun jiya ni na rasa meye hakan take yi." I almost scoff, but that's too much drama so I look up to Ummi who has also started playing with her food.

"Dan tana fada miki gaskiya? You don't care about your health, you're starting to get by just fine, how long has it been since you had an attack? Almost seven months fah, and then you take cold yogurt early in the morning? I was even talking with your doctor just last week, yace you don't need another oxygen therapy. And then you go and do this?" Again, I can't seem to keep my mouth shut.

"She had an attack yesterday. She even coughed up blood again, twice." Abba looks at Ummi, as though to say "what the hell is she talking about?" but she ignores his gaze, focusing on her food rather.

"Au, shikenan toh ai. Tunda bata son kanta you can't love her for her. Let her be. Koh meye taga dama tayi. I won't pay for any more antibiotics or any oxygen therapy. Idan lokacin tafiyan ta yayi bah shikenan bah? Sai muyi ta mata addu'a kawai." Abba hisses and stands up, taking his phone with him.

Ummi takes his barely touched plate with her, not even sparing me a glance. Ruqayya too stands up, loudly if I might add, and leaves the room. But not before making a loud move of taking more ice cubes and dumping them in her juice, as though to tell me off.

I don't even bother to stand up, not with the headache starting to form from every crevice in my small head. I finally look at the two men across from me, my eyes catching BK's. I quickly avert my gaze and stand up too, deciding I need a break from reality.

I can't seem to concentrate on the book in my hand. My head keeps drifting to Ruqayya. I saw the gate man receive a package, and he brought it to me, thinking it was mine. It was frozen yogo fruity. When I told him it wasn't mine, he went inside with it and didn't come back out with it.

I know only person that'd order something like that. Ummi fears sugar like she fears snakes, so it's obviously not her. Abba has risks of diabetes because of his family's health history, so he avoids anything with artificial sugar in it.

Is Ruqayya even sane? I don't think so anymore. But it's like Abba said, I can't love her for her. I'll just let her do what she wants to. It's not like I can do anything to stop her anyways. Isn't that even the whole point of whatever she's doing?

Thing is, Ruqayya has a problem, she hates being told what to do. Every single time Ruqayya has been told to or not to do something, she ends up doing the exact opposite of what she's told. And she doesn't care if what she's doing harms herself or anyone else, she will still do the exact opposite of what she's asked to do.

Ummi and Abba have talked to her about it, punished her because of it, Abba has even slapped her on two different occasions because of it, but she still hasn't changed one bit. In fact she only got worse.

And I can finally say Abba's words are true. Ruqayya and whoever is going to marry her are in real trouble if she takes this attitude to her husband's house.

I feel someone's presence beside me and I remove my headphones, which shows just how absent-minded I am. Because normally, I would just flick off the noise cancelation button.

I take in BK, now really up close for the first time. He's wearing a white round neck t-shirt which holds his arms too tight. Wait, aren't men supposed to wear freeing clothes?

He's a shade lighter than the dark chocolate I tagged him with. With eye brows dark and so thick I feel so envious of them. His lashes are short but thick, but they're longer than mine, once again, I'm envious. His nose is like literally every guy's own, the ones I've met that is. Straight and almost always raised in defiance.

His lips though, they don't even belong to the masculine side of the gender. Allah blessed him with heart shaped lips, the upper lip a light brown and the lower a light fuchsia color. And why the heck are they moisturized. My eyes drift to his eyes, he's also looking at me. But that's not the issue here, his eyes are a stark black, a clear white pooling around it. Such a stark beautiful difference.

"Assalamu Alaikum warahmatullahi wa barakatuh." I almost nod, because I honestly don't want to talk to him. But then I remember that I have to reply.

"Ameen wa alaikas salam warahmatullahi wa barakatuh." He peeps at the book in my hand and instinctively, I use my hand to cover the title.

"A Zade fan, I guess." I simply shrug. I am not going to talk about smut books with my cousin's crush or whatever I should call BK.

"Your eyes." I turn to him with a frown.

"What happened to them?" He shakes his head, as though to say nothing. I want to push it and ask him what he wanted to say, but I change my mind. Ruqayya can come out and see us talking, and she'll brood for the rest of the day, only for her to step up her game tomorrow. Ruqayya is not the very jealous type, but she doesn't like someone that looks like a competitor to her.

The one time we competed, I ended up with a twisted ankle and a scar that still mars my left thigh. I don't want to ever have a repeat of that again.

Ruqayya is a dangerous competitor, and when she sets her mind to something, she will get it by hook or by crook. Which is why I don't see BK escaping her clutches in anyway, poor guy won't know what is coming for him till shit hits the fan.

"So, you've graduated, koh?" I want to tell him off, tell him to leave me alone to my insane thoughts. But I could use a little distraction, just a detour from images of bluish gray lips from lack of oxygen and eyes rolled to the back of the head.

"Yeah." BK nods, pulls out his phone and looks at the time or a notification he's expecting but hasn't gotten yet, before dropping it on the table.

"What course did you study?" I pick my book and put it on my thighs. He notices the action but doesn't say a thing. If he had said anything, I would've taken my things and left him here. It's already embarrassing enough that he caught me reading that.

"Psychology." I hear him whistle lowly, and I can't help but smile. My pride is heightened a bit. Psychology is not an easy course, so me graduating with a two-one is a very big deal. But he doesn't know I graduated with a two-one.

"So clinical or criminology?" He's the first to ask that question. Most people just ask me about how the mad men in the streets become mad and the likes. Boring topics if you ask me because I'm not a psychiatrist, there's a difference between the two.

"Clinical In Shaa Allah. I actually plan on going out for my masters." BK nods, then he gulps.

"So what's the deal with you?" My brows furrow.

"What?"

"I saw you crying yesterday night, and this morning, you started a fuss at the table." He sounds like a father chiding his daughter for her unacceptable behavior that he can't understand the roots of. But he's not my father, and he has no business with my behavioral patterns. He barely knows me anyways.

"I don't owe you an explanation." He smiles, a polite and calm one, like the one he displays on TV. My mind drifts and I begin to wonder if the smile has become a part of him, like the way psychology has become a part of me. I wonder if he practices the smile before going live on TV. I wonder if he is able to smile in another way. I even wonder if it's a genuine smile or it's just something that comes up due to the amount of times he's done it.

"... I just thought I should ask, seeing how you ran away yesterday night." His words snap me back to reality, my ears hearing the sounds his vocal cords make and my brain registering them. I didn't hear his first words, so I don't know how to reply, so I settle for a passive answer.

"It doesn't matter. I'll take my leave now." I don't know why I sounded like I was asking for permission. Regardless, I pack my book, headphones, highlighter pen, tabs and post-it note and get out of the bukka.

"Fa'iza." His voice halts me and I stop but don't turn around. I don't hear his footsteps, but the next minute, he's beside me. How does he do it?

"It's like Ruqayya's father said, you can't love her for her. Same way, you can't help her for her. No matter how much you wish someone good, if they don't wish themself good, your wishes will remain just that, wishes." I expect him to say more but he simply walks past me, a hint of his cologne invading my olfactory senses and abandoning them in a span of seconds.

I push myself to walk to the house and then go to my room. I find Ruqayya sitting on my bed when I flick on the LED lights, startling me a bit.

"Fa'iza kenan. Haka zamuyi dake?" I furrow my brows as I head to the small shelf Ummi got me for my sixteenth birthday and put the dark covered book in my hand together with the rest of the books in its series.

"Meya faru?"

"It's like you've forgotten who you are." I drop the highlighter pen slowly into the pen holder then turn to her with a deepened frown.

"Excuse me?" She chuckles, but the action has chills running down my spine because it lacks any form of lark.

"Oh, you're excused." I sigh exasperatedly, wanting to know what exactly it is that Ruqayya wants.

"Nifa I don't have the slightest idea of what you're talking about. Did I do something? Is it about breakfast?" Ruqayya chuckles again.

"Kinga, I just thought as your sister, I should look out for you. And you were proving stubborn. Amma Allah ya huci zuciyanki. I'll make sure to steer clear of your matters. I won't even glance your way when you're doing something you shouldn't be doing." I head for my walk in closet but I never get to it because Ruqayya stands up and grabs my wrist firmly then turns me around.

"Whatever you did at breakfast, you can decide to continue, that is the least of what should be your worries now. You should be worried about me marching to Abba's room and saying some not so nice things regarding what I saw you doing in the bukka minutes ago." I almost gasp.

"So this is what this is about? Ruqayya, I don't like Bello. He just came to ask me something. We barely spent ten minutes there. I don't know what you're thinking but cool your mind, because we both know that left to me, I wouldn't even entertain any guys anytime soon." Ruqayya doesn't seem satisfied Wth my answer but she nods nonetheless.

"We shouldn't have any problems in that case, sister." She flashes me a smile and pats my shoulder twice before taking her leave.

I sigh and decide I'll take a quick nap before I go to Abba's parlor and talk to him. If I can't start my MSc, at least I can get a job in a hospital somewhere, or I could start offering therapies, just something to do with my life. The house is starting to choke me.

Instead of the nap, I take a quick shower and jog down the stairs. It's almost time for Asr and Abba likes going to the mosque on the far end of the street. And it takes at least ten minutes to get there on foot. If I consider that, then I have about twenty minutes to tell him whatever I want to. I hope he's even in the house and not already out on one of his political meetings.

I find him laying on the couch in the parlor, his head in Ummi's lap while she cleans his ear with cotton swabs. I smile, deciding to linger a bit. I have always admired Ummi and Abba's relationship. They are nothing like other 1990s couples. And although Ummi is shy, she doesn't hesitate to show just how much she loves him, whether publicly or privately. Abba is the PDA kind of guy, so he is always showering Ummi with affection, especially around his female cousins.

Abba's female cousins are extremely shameless and full of effrontery—I'd say that's where Ruqayya got her shameless and audacious attitude from. Up until today, there are still some of his cousins who think they have a chance as coming in second to Ummi.

One of them is the infamous Mama Sadiyan Dubai. The woman is one of those women that have standards as high as the mount everest but doesn't have anything to match up to those standards, money and beauty from her sokoto lineage being the only exceptions.

These standards thing she has going on has made her chase every man that came her way away, insisting they had one thing she couldn't tolerate or the other. And last year, after the annual reunion the family has, she started calling Abba in the name of zumunci but we all know better than that.

I am snapped back to reality by Abba yelping in pain and them Ummi snickering.

"You act like I am poking your brains." Abba smiles and attempts to turn to her when his eyes fall on me.

"Fa'iza?" I hum, walking into the sitting room with a salam and a small smile.

"How long have you been standing there?" I smile and sit at the foot of the couch Ummi and Abba are on.

"Just few seconds, ina wuni." Abba and Ummi reply my greetings simultaneously.

"Abba, I wanted to talk to you about something." Ummi let's go of his earlobe and his head vacates her thighs. He straightens his posture and turn to me, his face blank.

"I want to start looking for a job, In Shaa Allah." Ummi looks at me like I said the most horrendous thing to ever exist.

"Are we biting you? Or you are tired of the rest he has granted you?" Ummi says in Hausa. I shake my head.

"It's not like that, I just think I've had enough rest, and I should start doing something with myself. Sitting at home doing nothing is idleness." I allow Ummi to think of her own words before she sighs then says I am on my own before leaving the sitting room.

"So where do you have in mind?" I keep quiet, I haven't really thought about it. And I tell him just that.

"Okay, I believe you should know where you want to work by the end of today. So after dinner, you will give me an answer. I will be traveling to Canada for a few days and my flight is booked for tomorrow morning In Shaa Allah." I nod and thank him in Arabic, he smiles at the only Arabic I know apart from greeting.

Night comes by very fast as I sit in front of my laptop, making calls and enquiring about different hospitals and the likes. By the time the call to Isha is made, I have three choices which Abba will help me choose from.

I pray, bath and slip on a jilbaab over my baggy trousers and button up shirt matching pajamas. After the first day, Ummi told us that we can't dress the way we normally dress around the house. So while Ruqayya has been wearing an Abaya atop her pjs, I've been wearing jilbaabs and large hijabs.

Dinner goes by smoothly, mine and Ruqayya's small hitch pushed away.

After dinner, Abdallah, Bk's older brother, clears his throat.

"Abba, I would like to seek permission from you on behalf of my brother and I to take Ruqayya and Fa'iza out tomorrow evening In Shaa Allah so we can talk and see if we can have something going on. We will be leaving on Sunday In Shaa Allah." Abba looks at Ummi for a split second before he nods.

"If they are okay with it then I don't see why not. You can't stay out past 9.59 outside though. That's their curfew. They both know that." Abdallah nods.

"Jazakallah Abba. And Goodnight." He and BK stand up and leave the dining room. Once we all hear the kitchen door get shut, Ruqayya squeals.

"Oh my God! Ummi, BK just asked me on a date, that too through Abba and in front of you! Green flag!" She squeals again.

See? I have said it and will continue to say it, Ruqayya is shameless! Unapologetically shameless if I might add. Kai!

05-05-2023
Unedited.

I just realized that we do not have a particular update schedule. So how about this? Weekly updates until I'm able to finish this book offline, I'm done with 1/3 of it anyways. What do you say?

I changed the covers of the BFFs series. Yesss! And I am so in love with the covers!

Okay, bye!