Unedited like previous ones.

_________

Coffee.

Work.

Newspaper and books.

Family.

Those words defined El-Mustapha's world and life. If someone were to ask him what life was, he was sure that's all he could come up with. Nothing else.

He had seen love, heard of it but never felt it. He grew up all alone, taught himself how to love himself and groom himself into what he was then. His mother and father get divorced when he was just five. He was very young, sure, but he could remember the scenes that unfolded the time of the divorce.

He didn't know why the incident was the only memory he could recall when he was five.

Maami was watching the television while he was playing on his little bike when Baba came in that night, he didn't understand the conversation they had.

But as usual, his Baba grabbed Maami by her neck and dragged her out of his sight. He didn't know what had happened but he could hear the echoes of her cries resonating in his ears. He had rushed to the room and tried opening the room but it was locked. He began crying too until he slept. In the morning when Mrs Lily their chef came, she woke him up and handed him to his nanny. After then, he met Maami lying on the floor of her room like a corpse. He had shouted, earning Lily's attention. Without much a do, she called the family doctor.

He checked his Maami but Baba never came until after six months. Whenever he came, the same things happened. And then, they moved to Nigeria. A while after, Maami told him that she and Baba's marriage had been dissolved by Daada.

He was happy that Maami would be fine for the rest of her life. He could remember jumping. As he jumped, instead of landing on the ground, he found himself caught in Baba's hold.

From then, Baba took him away from his Maami. While growing up, all he was trained upon, was business. Business and business. He grew up with Lily before she stopped coming. He started living on his own at eighteen and started following Baba to countries where he ran his businesses.

He could remember visiting Maami at Abuja in her new home when  he was still eighteen. Maami got married again and gave birth to a girl, Maya.

He could remember seeing a distasteful look on the face of Maami's husband when he said he was going to spend a week with her. On his third day, Maami came and told him to leave, indirectly.

It hurt him. It still did.

Maami didn't need him in her life. She wanted her marriage more. It was painful. He didn't relent, but Maami kept pushing him away in the unnoticed way. He got the headlight and stayed away.

But he loved his half-sister, Maya.

They communicated like the brother and sister they were. He wouldn't say it's love but it's a natural bond. Between people of the same blood.

Despite the fact that he was in Nigeria, managing all the companies named under the family name, he didn't try to visit Maami ever again. Maami sometimes visit him in his office. He would greet her but wouldn't feel any special feeling.

They would talk of business and how their families were fairing. When Maami brought up the 'M' word, he would frown and wouldn't say anything again. That's how she normally give up and leave.

He occasionally visit Maya at London where she's studying. Recently he found out that she was with a man - Jaybee- who was a known footballer.

When he asked Maya of Jaybee, she said there was nothing between them. She was nothing but a fan of Chelsea club and Jaybee was a good player.

He was a man that didn't care about football or gaming. Because of his sister, he started watching football in his leisure time so that, whenever they speak, he would have something to say. At least, his sister cheered him up.

Othman was his cousin and only friend. Business partner and a brother to him. That's all.

Maami, Baba, Maya, Othman made up his family in his own definition.

His phone rang, snapping him out of his reverie. He cleared his throat and picked the call. It was Othman.

"Hey buddy, so you cool now?" He asked with a 'hehe' kind of -not-so-heartily- laughter.

"Yeah man, I am cool but doesn't mean I have given up; Manchester united is the best football club in the world." Othman replied him.

El-Mustapha smiled. He won't start arguing with Othman. Besides, he didn't even know so much enough about the football to argue. He wondered why Othman was still arguing even though the match played yesterday was won by the Chelsea.

"Whatever." He dropped the argument.

"Yeah. Actually I saw something on the net trending. A picture of a girl is everywhere and some people are even claiming that she's our blood. Go to your Instagram newsfeed." Othman sighed when he said that. They, — the Kabo's were very keen in maintaining the good reputation of their family.

El-Mustapha cut the call, running his fingers through his palmful hair. He didn't know why he was already sweating.

He took his iPad and logged into his account that was almost useless. All he did with it was to have a glance on what the world was up to. He didn't care about posting his photos and he had strictly warned Othman too.

To his dismay, the picture in display was posted by an anonymous account.

It was a rare picture of Maya and Jaybee hugging each other by a . He swiped, the next revealed Maya's lips glued to Jaybee's cheeks.

The caption read.

'Seems like the women's crush and the greatest of all times player celebrated his victory with his perhaps secret wife, Maya Mahmoud Kabo. Or is she his girlfriend?'

El-Mustapha dropped his iPad and hissed.

"Maya!" He shouted, massaging his knuckles.

_________

Saturdays in the Alhaji Rabi'us' house were sanitation days. Everyone was expected to clean their room in the most neatest way possible.

Then the master himself, Alhaji would check eveywhere. The person that cleaned up their room best received fifty thousand naira gift by the end of the month.

Hajiya Sadiya won twice, Adeelah won thrice, Hafsatu twice and Haneey won once since the new rule was set.

Adeelah had kept the money, not having anything to do with it. But she loved checking her balance and seeing the figures sitting prettily.

Since Fajr, Adeelah had cleaned her room and did all the things to be done. All she was waiting was to see Abba in her room.

She sprayed airfreshner and all her perfumes around.

She went out of the room straight to their study room in order to read. The study room was stacked with textbooks, religious books and inspirational books. No one had reason to fail exam, Abba said because he had provided all one needed in the house.

Adeelah didn't have any problem with studies and she doesn't read until a day before the exam. It was a bad habit, she knew but factually, she saw no reason why she should read before the exam.

It will expire and gradually disappear.

She once told Fatimah. Nevertheless, she was a second class upper student. Her friends used to say that if she would press harder and read more, she would graduate with first class.

Now, the reason of visiting the room was to read biochemistry. The lecturer chased her out and she had tried to enter his class twice but he stopped her. She wondered how he recognise her face. Either way, she didn't want to fail, hence she read the course everyday.

It was very bulky and complicated but that's how she was reading it even though the only thing she understood was 'glucose and fructose were simple sugars'. She would get the rest too, she hoped.

Adeelah was hellbent on surprising the lecturer. She wanted him to know that she could do without his lectures. Fatimah told her that he said he was going to give them a test the next class. And that he even took attendance and gave five marks for it,  the day he chased her out.

Who cares? Not Adeelah.

When she read for thirty minutes, she decided to leave the book for that time. She made a mark on the page she stopped and ambled back to her room.

She prayed Zuhr and went to see Ya Abdul in his room. She knocked by the door and waited for him to grant her access in.

He opened the door with a smile. She entered and sat on a chair, her eyes browsing over gyming stuff sprawled all over the room.

"I don't know when you became so matured." He said, opening his fridge.

"What? Ya Abdul be careful with me."

Abdul cackled.

"Can you imagine? Adeelah you're crazy."

Adeelah feigned sadness and stood to leave.

"I am just joking silly. Please help me clean my room. Please." He besought.

"What is the price?"

"I will take you to school for a week straight."

"And?"

"I will take you on a free shopping spree!"

"And again?"

Ya Abdul sighed rolling his eyes. His sister was mean. He had mentioned enough but she was still asking for more.

"I give up Adeelah." She laughed at him before she grabbed his bedsheet.

Adeelah used his palm and held her nose emanating that Ya Abdul's bedsheet was smelling. Ya Abdul dared not to talk if not she would blare his ears off and tell him nasty words that would annoy him.

She finished everything in a spur and reminded him about their deals. She left for her room. On reaching there, she met Abba and his judges in her room. Hajiya Sadiya and Hafsatu.

She smiled proudly at herself.

"How do you see my room Abba?" She asked, waving her hand in the air. Abba inspected everywhere and nodded.

"It's all in accord, Abba's little girl. You're so neat like my Ayaat." Hafsatu and Hajiya Sadiya somehow felt jealousy crawling to their heart. They wondered what that woman did that even after her death, their husband called her his Ayaat.

'Name like aya mai gishiri'  Hafsah thought in jealous anger.

He rechecked, everything was intact. He was about to go out when Hafsatu cleared her voice.

"Baby..."

Hajiya Sadiya rolled her eyes and felt like slapping some senses into Hafsatu's head. Adeelah glared at her and waited to hear what she had to say.

"What is it?" He asked with no endearment.

"Let's check her drawers baby." Adeelah nearly hissed. So what if they checked her drawers? They were equally neat.

"Yeah you're right." He agreed with her and they began opening the drawers.

The last drawer that was opened made Abba speechless and motionless. His hand remained glued to the drawer.

"Baby... What happened?" Hafsatu talked first.

He didn't say anything or do anything rather than turning around and setting his questionable eyes on Adeelah.

_________

What?

A glimpse at El-Mustapha. What do you think?

Don't forget to vote, comment and keep sharing. Follow the author too.
The votes are so low. I think I should take the book off and start another.😑

Btw, have you added this to your libraries?  'Misfortunate' by TheOmoope, the writer of soiled and bound? If no, you're missing! It's coming on the 17th.💕