Canada, Mu’az Residence

The sound of music was so loud in the house that you would think you were in a club if you didn't see for yourself.
"Amjad!" a woman called out after entering the room, certain that the music was coming from there.
The young man she was calling didn't hear her at all; he was just lip-syncing to the song. She walked over to him and tapped his shoulder hard.
He turned quickly, letting out a small sound, "Aww!"
"Will you please turn the music off?"
"Mom, I'm glad you are back," he said before finally turning off the music.
"Amjad, this is too much."
"Mom, I'm just having some fun; it's awesome."
"Where is Shaheed?"
"He just left."
"To where?"
"I don't know."
"What about Zakia?"
"I guess she is in her room."
"Well, have you eaten?"
"No."
"Why? Are you not hungry?"
"Of course I am, I just don't want to eat."
"Is something wrong?"
"No," he answered briefly.
"I hope so. Let me prepare an omelette for you. Try a little, son; I don’t want to see you starving like that."
He raised an eyebrow before saying, "Okay."
"That's my kid," she said, pinching his cheeks with a smile.
He smiled back, and she left the room. He flopped onto the bed, took his phone, and started tapping away.
She went back to her room, removed her jacket and the veil she was wearing, and headed to the kitchen. In a short time, she finished, set the dining table, and went upstairs to Zakia’s room.
"Come in," a voice said after she knocked.
"Mom, so you are back?"
"And you are here busy chatting?"
"Oh," she said, scratching her head and closing her laptop.
"Have you eaten?"
"Yes, Mom."
"Okay, then we will enjoy our omelettes alone."
"Omelettes? That's my favorite, you know."
"I made it for Amjad."
"Come on, Mom. Amjad is not a kid; you are spoiling him too much. Dad is right," she said coaxingly.
"You too?"
"Me too, what?" she asked in broken Hausa.
"You are backing your dad."
"Why not? He's right."
"Okay, let's go," she said, supporting her shoulder as they went downstairs.
"Amjad! Omelettes are ready!"
"Okay, Mom," he answered from his room.
"You see?"
"Zakia!" Mom said, laughing in between.
"Ehyi, he's almost 26, but yet you are treating him like he's 16."
"What are you two discussing?" they heard his voice as he walked down the steps.
"She..."
"Mom!" Zakia said loudly, eyes wide, signaling her to be quiet.
"Okay, I get it," she said, making a zipping motion over her mouth with her finger.
"Are you guys hiding something?" he asked, looking at them.
"No," they answered in unison.
"Lazy, I hope your hands didn't touch my omelettes?"
"What if they did?" she asked defiantly.
"R.I.P," he answered, adjusting his chair to sit.
"Really? Let..."
"Shh! Guys, let's eat and stop chatting," Mom interrupted, because if she didn't, they would turn the table upside down. It was their daily habit; they would fight, he would tease her, and she would be defiant.
"Today, someone didn't pray Asr," Zakia said after they had started eating.
Karaf! He dropped the spoon in his hand. He knew that if she was going to be cunning, she would use Hausa, even though she wasn't fluent, but she was better than him. Even now, he didn't fully understand what she said, but he assumed it was about him.
"Zakia, are you serious?" Mom asked.
"Yes, Mom," she replied.
"What did you mean by that?" he asked, his face tightening.
"Amjad, is that true?" Mom asked, her expression changing.
"What?"
"You didn't pray Asr," she answered briefly.
Now he realized the gossip she had spilled to her. He stood up in a rage. Zakia knew it would come to this; she jumped off her chair and dashed toward the sitting room because there was no way to go upstairs. She didn't even know where she would hide, so she headed for the exit door. Mom was calling him, but he refused to listen.
He almost caught her when Dad walked in. She quickly hid behind him.
"Dad, help me!" she said loudly.
Seeing this, Amjad stopped, huffing.
"Amjad, what's going on?" Dad asked.
He was silent because he had nothing to say. He knew if he brought up the prayer issue, Dad would punish him.
She was behind him, but still sticking her tongue out at him.
"She took my... my diary," he lied.
"Diary?" He turned to look at Zakia. She quickly composed herself.
"Where is it?"
"In the locker."
"Give it back, okay?"
She nodded her head, and he left them there.
"I saved you."
He glared at her and walked away; she followed him, making a face.
"Honey, you are back," Mom said when he arrived, standing up to hug him.
"Uhm, what are you guys eating?"
"Omelettes," she replied.
Amjad, hearing the language Dad used, said "Disgusting" without them hearing. He didn't even care about the omelettes; he went upstairs.
"Shaheed?" he asked.
"He went out. I am sure he's on his way back home."
"I hope so," he replied.
He took a spoon from the table and tasted the omelette. "Uhhm, yummy."
"Really?" She immediately began blushing.
"Sure," he replied.
Zakia, who was standing there, twisted her lips and smiled. That was how Mom always was; she loved to have her cooking praised. Sometimes she would say Dad was so lucky to have a loving and caring wife.
Zakia went back to her room; teasing him was the reason she started eating, as she wasn't very hungry.
6:16 pm, Shaheed walked in. Everyone was in their rooms. He didn't enter his own; he went into Amjad's. He found him praying. Even without being told, he knew it was Asr; that was his routine, and luckily, he didn't miss it until Isha. He sat waiting until he finished before speaking.
"Asr, right?"
"Mind your own business, silly boy. Where have you been?"
"Do I have to explain? Look at how you're talking as if you're my dad."
He picked up a pillow and threw it at his face. "Get out!"
"Easy, I'm going, dude." He got up and left, leaving him alone.

Nigeria, Kano

She was walking quickly, her school bag in her hand. She was wearing her Islamic school uniform.
"Assalamu Alaykum," she said upon reaching home.
"Waalaikissalam," she was answered.
In the courtyard, she found her mother sitting beside her father’s mat; he was lying down, and one could tell he was in pain.
"Sannu, Baba," she said.
He could only nod his head because he couldn't speak.
"Where did you leave Maryam and the others?"
"They were just coming; their walking wasn't fast, so I went ahead," she replied.
"Laila, when you take off your uniform, go to your uncle's house and get the 'ruwan rubutu' (ink/written water) they are going to give your father."
"Mami, I thought we would stop giving him these mixtures," she said in a low voice, so her father wouldn't hear.
"What else can we do?" Mami said.
Shortly after, she changed into house clothes, put on her hijab, and went out.
"I am leaving," was all she said to her before she left.
The uncle's house was behind their street. She returned shortly after, and at that time, her younger siblings had also returned.
Mami knew it wasn't just the 'ruwan rubutu' but other herbal medicines too. If she refused to give them to him, they would say she didn't want her husband to get better, so she stopped refusing. Sometimes he would even come himself to give him the medicine.
Laila is the firstborn in their house, followed by her three siblings: Maryam, Nusaiba, and the last-born, Fauzan. Laila finished secondary school this year and was waiting for her JAMB admission. She is 19 years old.
Mustafa Mu'az is Laila's father; Fatima is her mother. Laila's father has two older brothers: Yunusa Mu'az and Engr. Abdallah Mu'az. Laila's father was not a wealthy man; he had his own small business. Suddenly, he fell ill, and when they went to the hospital, they were told he had kidney disease. Among the three, Engr. Abdallah was the one who pursued higher education; through God's power, he attained success and reached a high level. After finishing his studies abroad, he got a job.
Rushda Lincoln was born in Italy, and her parents returned to Nigeria due to business. That is how she learned to speak Hausa since she was young. Engr. Abdallah had worked in her father's country, which is how he met Rushda. When he approached his family about the marriage, no one agreed because they thought she was Christian. It was with great difficulty that they understood she was Muslim; only her grandparents were Christian. Lincoln was just the family name they bore. After their marriage, they moved to Canada, where they had three children: Amjad, Shaheed, and Zakia.
Currently, Amjad has finished his studies and is 26 years old. Shaheed is 23 and close to graduating, and Zakia is 19, having just started university.
Engr. Abdallah occasionally visits Nigeria to visit his relatives and check on his company (RAZAS). Amjad, since he was not even 10, had no desire to visit the company, and he completely dislikes living in Nigeria. It has been almost 7 years since he last visited. The recent visits were school-related, so he didn't go. Only Mom and the two younger ones came, aside from Dad who is always with him.
Since Laila's father fell ill, Dad has been sending money for his hospital bills. Recently, when he sent it, Baba said Mami should buy food because he feels in his body that he might not recover. Uncle Yunusa, however, never liked hospitals; he is always bringing herbal mixtures. That is how things are.
8:30 pm.
After they finished eating tuwo, they were all sitting in the courtyard. Mami was fanning Baba; he refused to eat the food, only breathing heavily.
"Sannu, should we make you tea since you can't eat the food?"
He shook his head "no." She was silent, then continued fanning him. The children were also quiet, not even chatting. Fauzan was the only one making noise, but seeing them quiet, he stopped. Due to his youth, he didn't understand the situation; he just said "Sannu, Baba" and that was it. Now, the children are 7 years old for Fauzan, 16 for Maryam, and 14 for Nusaiba.
9:00 pm passed, and like always, it was time for them to sleep, so they got up to go to their room.
"Don't forget to pray."
"Okay, Mami," they answered and went into the room.
The three of them sleep on one mat, with Fauzan separately. They didn't fall asleep until they were sure they had said their prayers. Laila found it difficult to sleep; Baba's illness was bothering her, and Mami herself was in distress, as the illness had been going on for almost two months.
With difficulty, she managed to close her eyes after 15 minutes, and sleep took over.

Amjad, 4:12 am

It was like it wasn't night. Earphones were stuck in his ears, his laptop was on the bed, and he was chatting peacefully. Beside him was a Pepsi, which he was sipping.
Almost always, he is like this; he doesn't get enough sleep until around 4:30 am. Even when it's time for Subh prayer, he doesn't wake up unless Mom wakes him, and even then, she struggles before he gets up. Dad doesn't know what to do with Amjad's behavior; he is completely different from his siblings. He hangs out, goes to clubs, and parties with bad guys.

Saturday

All the children were in school. Like always, they didn't get up before 8:30 am, except for another night. Everyone went about their business. Laila was in the kitchen with Mami, preparing breakfast. Fauzan was playing in the courtyard, and Maryam and Nusaiba were washing dishes. Baba was lying in the room, listening to the noise of the children.
Kwan! Kwan! They heard a knock on the door from outside. The greeting given made them recognize who was talking.
"Kawu (Uncle), good morning," the children said after the door was opened, and he entered.
"Lafiya," he answered.
"Where is your father?" he asked.
"He is inside," they answered. He quickly headed to the room. Mami, as she expected, saw him holding bundles of medicine.
"He is going to force him to drink more of those," Laila said after he entered.
"If he hears you, that's not my business. Go do your work," Mami said, continuing to fry the pancakes.
"Fadimatu!" She heard her Uncle call her name. She jumped up in a panic because she was very scared that something had happened to Baba, but upon arriving, she saw that was not the case. "Did you give him the medicine Laila went to get from me yesterday?" He asked in a tone of interrogation.
"Ehyi, Kawu, he was given it."
"May God help him, because I see his body is weak. I am trying to make him sit up, but it's proving difficult. Has he been like this for a long time?"
"Yesterday, he just couldn't manage to sit."
"Okay, here is another medicine I brought just now. He should drink it. Get a cup and pour it."
With "Okay," she answered. After the cup was brought, he poured the medicine. He supported him with difficulty, and then he forced him to drink.
"Endure and drink it so you can get strength," Uncle said. Baba, having no choice, drank it all.
He put him back down; he was just breathing heavily. The slight movement he made caused him to feel a lot of pain. "Sannu" was all they could say, and he nodded with difficulty.

Canada

8:20 am, they were all gathered at the dining table for breakfast. Amjad’s chair was empty; he was nowhere to be found.
"Where is Amjad?" Dad asked, looking at Shaheed.
"Uhh... in his room," Mom answered, stuttering.
"Sleeping, right?" The way he said it made everyone silent. She bowed her head, not saying anything else.
In a rage, he got up from the chair and dropped his spoon. Even without being told, Mom knew he was heading to Amjad’s room. She also got up and followed him, trying to stop him.
"Honey, stop! Honey, listen to me!"
He ignored her and continued walking until he reached the room door. Just as he was about to knock, his phone rang.
It seemed like an important call, which made him go downstairs. She felt happy seeing this because she knew that if he had entered the room, his mood would have been ruined.
She entered the room herself; he was curled up in a blanket, sleeping soundly.
"Amjad, wake up, it's almost 9 am," she said softly, tapping his shoulder.
He moved slowly. Instead of opening his eyes, he turned his face to the other side.
"Amjad! Your dad is here."
"Uhmm," he said sleepily.
"I said wake up."
"Mom, please, 30 more minutes..."
"Amjad!" she called loudly.
With difficulty, he got up, rubbing his eyes, which were squeezed shut from the sleep he had accumulated, causing swelling.
"He is up," she said after she went downstairs.
"Better." With that, he went back into the room.
When Amjad came down, Dad had already left the dining table. He had his breakfast peacefully; everyone else had already gotten up and left him. In his mind, he was feeling happy that Dad was going to Paris; he knew he would be able to relax without pressure and do what he wanted.

Kano

Around 2:30 pm, Laila finished getting ready in her Islamic uniform. There was no makeup on her face, but that didn't stop her beauty from shining through. Her eyelashes were long, and her eyebrows were very thick and arched. Her lips were just right, she had a long nose, and her hair was tied back. Even without powder, her fair skin continued to glow. (Describing Laila would take a long time, so I've just given a short description).
Usually, she is always ready before them, which is why sometimes she doesn't wait for them.
"Maryam!" she called out loudly.
"You know I won't wait for you. You can see it's almost 3 o'clock; I will go. If you are not quick to get ready..."
"We are getting ready now."
"I don't see any signs of that," she followed with a glare. "Go call Nusaiba."
They didn't leave the house until 2:54 pm, and she was nagging them the whole time. If it weren't for Mami insisting they go together, she wouldn't have waited for them.

Canada

4 pm, Dad left for Paris. Shaheed and Zakia, along with Mom, took him to the airport, except for Amjad, who was at home. The world was good; Dad wasn't home, even though he had warned him again about partying and not praying on time.

Chapter 2

Canada

8:30 pm, they were at the dining table: Mom, Zakia, and Shaheed. Everyone was just eating. This usually happened whenever Dad went on a trip, because he was fun and full of laughter with his family. But even then, Amjad didn't stop seeing the strictness Dad had toward him; in his opinion, he was just pressuring him.
They were sitting there when Amjad came down, earphones stuck in his ears, nodding along to the music peacefully. He pulled out a chair and sat down. Everyone looked at him because they figured out the reason for his happiness. Seeing the stares, he said:
"Sorry, guys. I forgot to say hi to you; is that it?"
Shaheed just shook his head and got up. Zakia twisted her lips and continued eating her food.
"Amjad, you're happy Dad is not here, right?" Mom said.
"Ahn?" He pulled out one earpiece because he didn't hear what she said.
"I said, you're happy Dad is not here, right?"
"Why shouldn't I be? He's always harassing me. I'm glad now he's not home, no more harassing. I wish he could stay there for 6 months," he finished the sentence in a low voice.
"Because you want to enjoy partying and hanging around with silly boys like you," Zakia said, then immediately ran to her room because if she had stayed, he would have punched her mouth.
"Mom, did you hear that? I can't tolerate nonsense!"
"Come on, eat. Forget about what she just said; she's sad Dad is not home."
He scoffed and continued eating, turning up the volume of the music. Everyone went to their rooms. Amjad, like always, turned on his laptop, but today he started a video call. First, he spoke to a friend named Sam, after telling him that Dad had traveled, and then he started with a girlfriend.
"Hi, Rosie," he called her, his face filled with a smile.
"How are you doing?"
"I'm okay," she answered.
"But you don't seem to be okay," he answered in a soft voice.
Acting in their usual way, she rolled her eyes and let out a breath before saying, "I'm just having a hard time here in London. I'm tired; I need to come back to Canada," she finished the sentence, tucking her hair behind her ear.
"I knew it, you wouldn't like staying there. How could that even be possible? I know you missed me."
"Yeah, I do. And you?"
"Do you have to ask?"
She just smiled without saying anything. "Now, what is your decision? Are you going to stay there, or have you changed your mind?"
"Well, you know I can't live without you. Why would you even expect me to stay there? It's not that easy," she finished the sentence as if she were about to cry.
"It's all over now; everything is going to be okay."
"Yeah."
"Amjad," she called his name.
"Huh?"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry for hurting you so bad for leaving without even saying goodbye."
"Shh! Stop apologizing. I know you wouldn't leave me; it's just that you needed to have some space at that time. I was also wrong to treat you like that; I'm also sorry."
She just nodded her head because, right now, crying was overwhelming her; she was wiping them, but they wouldn't stop.
"Please stop crying; everything is fine."
"Yeah, I know, I just can't hold it."
"You can. Look at me."
She looked up slowly, as if he were right in front of her. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her face was also red.
"I love you," he said.
She felt a kind of happiness enter her heart. She couldn't find her tears anymore, even though this wasn't the first time he had said that to her; she just missed the words from his mouth.
"I love you too," she tried to answer. She immediately forgot about everything, and they started their lover's conversation.
Rosie and Amjad went to school together since they were teenagers. At first, it was friendship, not a romantic relationship, but later, a strong love entered between them. One day, they had a misunderstanding as a result of another young man seen with her, and he didn't allow her to explain...