THE TIMOROUS DUNYA✅

FORTY

The last chapter is here. Shower it with love, vote and leave endless comments! Let me know how sad or happy you are Maryam's story is coming to an end!

I'll try to make the epilogue lengthy so it might take a while. It might not;)

With love, Aeeeshatuh💕

*****

Night was at it's peak when she laid down beside her father. Malam Kabiru had lit a mosquito coil which was meant to burn all through the night. Maryam's eyes were glued on the small orange light it produced as different thoughts ran thought her mind.

Although it hurts to mention his name, the curiosity pushed her to ask her father. "Baba, where are Ya Sule and Ya Zeebaby?" It's like Inna Saude to carry whatever she possessed after their separation. But then it occurred to her, what other than her children did she really possessed?

If there was one thing Maryam was sure of, then it was how she was always wanting more. Wanting to be the only wife, wanting to have money, wanting to have more money, wanting her mother to be divorced. Always wanting more.

Malam Kabiru heaved out a sigh. "Suleiman passed away some months back due to an accident. He was intoxicated and unfortunately got hit by a speeding lorry. And Zainab, I honestly do not know where she's at."

"May Allah forgive his sins." Of all the responses Maryam was expecting, this was the least of them. Maybe deep down she was expecting to hear her father say he had stopped drinking, went back to school and married himself a young lady. Then, she would have been less shocked than she was now.

But maybe some people are bound to leave this dunya unlucky. Either way, she prayed silently, to be amongst the few people that will leave with contended smiles on their faces, eager to go there, where eternal pleasure is guaranteed. She prayed her mother is amongst them, her whole family were amongst them.

*****

She stepped out the next morning, clad in loose fitting skirt and blazer, no headtie or cap, and a hijab the same colour of her skirt to complete the outfit. It was early when she had woken up, boiled some yam, made some stew and left it for them along with a note that said she was going to visit her friends.

She matches around the city underneath the broad sunlight. The atmosphere was calm and airy, the birds chirped a welcome every turn she took. The people waved, smiled and gasped with recognition.

She visited everyone she had been on good-terms with before her leave, starting with her friends.

Dije was now a mother of two childern. Twins, both boys. She had gained a reasonable amount of weight, her skin was lighter and smoother. A clear declaration she was being fed and taken cared of, not by a Counselor or governor as she had hoped, but Musa, a young ambitious middle classed man who genuinely  loves her. Of course, her fantasy has now been discarded by daily dose of reality over the years.

Meeno had found herself a man from the city, and now she lives in Kaduna as Kandala informed her.

Kandala too, was engaged to get married in five months time.

She spent more than two hours cross-legged on the floor of Kandala's room. They talked, about oldtimes, about their daily trips to the stream, about the mischievous things they'd done together, about some of their old friends, about school, about Dije. Then, suddenly, Maryam paused as if remembering something.