CLASSICAL MUSLIMAH

CLASSICAL MUSLIMAH: 8

Brick city, Abuja, Nigeria.
Wednesday 21st February, 2018.

Ayyuba, Nana Asma'u's uncle had returned the previous night due to what he heard from his wife. He had always known that his sister, Hansatu was a stupid selfish woman but he never tagged her as a money monger. After what money had done to her late husband, she was still stupid enough to allow money rule her thinking.

Ayyuba shaked his head, scattering all thoughts about Hansatu and concentrating on getting dressed. He was going to see Hansatu and make her call off the marriage and return the lefe Nuhu's aunties brought. Just because Nana Asma'u was her daughter, didn't mean she could force her into getting married to Nuhu.

Ayyuba rushed out of his room with his wife tailing beside him.

"Atleast take the pap, facing Hansatu with an empty stomach would be a huge mistake. You need enough energy for her. She's not an easy going person to begin with and you know that. Just please take the pap." Zainab beseeched. She knew he'd be famished before he got home.

"I can't eat when my niece is being forced to marry someone who is undeserving of her. I have to go." Zainab lowered her head in sadness.

"Okay then, I'll just turn it in a portable flask for you to take with. If you feel hungry, just take it, please." Zainab gave a forced tight-lipped smile and turned to go to the kitchen when Ayyuba held her hand sighing.

"Okay then, I'll take it now." Ayyuba sat down and took a gulp out of the pap. He took another and after some minutes, he was done with the whole mug. He licked his lips before bidding her goodbye.

As he drove to Gbazango in his golf, the area where his sister lived with her six children, he couldn't help but question her sanity. Why would someone in their right senses get their daughter married to someone who she doesn't love? And the said person can't even take care of himself, talk more of the daughter. Someone that doesn't have a job, nor western education. His Islamic education too is hanging.

Ayyuba parked his car in front of a kiosk as he couldn't risk taking his car into the street where Hansatu's car was located. He'd probably have to change the tyres if he did that.

"Assalamu Alaikum." The owner of the kiosk rose his head and returned Ayyuba's greeting.

"Dan Allah taimako nake bukata {i need help}." The owner of the kiosk shoved the carton in his hand into a shelf and rose a wood which served as a demarcation. He came out and stood in front of Ayyuba.

"Ni bako ne, in bazaka damu bah inaso Dan Allah ka kula min da mota ta, zan dan shiga wani gida ne a layin nan {I'm a stranger, if you wouldn't mind i need you to please take care of my car for me, I'm just going to enter one of the houses on this street}." The owner of the kiosk looked at Ayyuba from head to toe and back, before asking what was in it for him.

Ayyuba brought out two five hundred naira notes and gave the man, then told him he'd give him more if he came out and nothing was wrong with his car. The man's face split into a smile and he nodded, agreeing instantly to the offer.

Ayyuba thanked him then started walking towards the house. All the houses on that street were what Hausa people would call kango. They were dilapidated, with Hansatu's house standing out as the only completed and painted house. Now he understood why she refused to come with him. It was obvious she was like the rich person on that street and she loved the feeling of being superior. Hansatu had a problem; she always let herself be blinded by wordly things.