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"Madam, we're done." I got up. Holding the bag that houses my camera, ring light, laptop and nearly everything I hold valuable, I follow the woman back into elevator, struggling to hold the bag next to myself before letting the lift door slid shut.

"I'm so sorry I called on short notice. I hope you and your partner are not angry?" The lady, a far older woman than my Ma, she wringed the rag in her hand helplessly and I sensed she wanted to say something.

"The kitchen was very bad. Why did you let it be like that?" I shook my head as I watched the counter reach four and the elevator pinged. " I've not been around. That's what leaving a man all by himself causes." I laughed nervously and she laughed with me. I opened the door and she followed after me, my mouth dropped as I got in.

The whole place was gleaming, even the television screen and the stand. I turned to look at her with a smile and she smiled shyly back, making my grin become wider.

"Lemme pay you guys." I said as I walked further into the house to my room and as I turned the door, I saw that they had folded my clothes and hung some. I sighed, may Allah bless these women beyond measure. I picked my purse and went out to both of them, handing them small wads of five hundred naira notes before calling their boss to ask for the bill. They left, thanking me profusely as I saw them to the elevator.

I picked the heavy bag again and took it to my room, I'd set it down in the living room when I came in. As I set up my laptop and plugged in my ring light, I asked myself how I got here. How I made marriage such an integral part of me so early on in my life that I chose a bad partner.

Although, much of the blame cannot be put on me, the heavy part of it, must be on Abdul who intentionally showed off himself as Mr Perfect-on- the-way-to-becoming-angelic and made me feel like my life would never be complete without him.

Probably the fact that I was urgently looking for someone to be my husband can not be ruled out, I told everyone I met my requirements in a man such that when I saw it, I just didn't think it could be a farce.

As I put the camera on the tripod, I switched it to it's perfect position and went to wash my face. The bathroom was sparkling as well and quickly, I dried my face with a brand new towel and sat in my filming chair, pressed play on the camera and clasped my hands with a joyful look on my face.

"Hey guys, welcome back to my YouTube channel, it's your beautiful baby girl, BeebahShe." I pressed pause and wiped my eyes before taking on the joyful persona again.

"I have missed you all so much, I went on an unintentional social media break, I was away in a beautiful small village called Goron Dutse in Kaduna north where I filmed one of the best roles I've ever taken on. Details will come later, but I've added beautiful photos of myself, my amazing assistant and some of the other cast for you to see.

And the sunset? You need to see this country guys, it's beautiful.

So, let's get into today's topic." I stopped for a moment and laughed to let them know I forgot something. "If you haven't subscribed to my YouTube channel," I made a face, " How exactly did I offend you? Ehn? Please help my market, subscribe and share the videos if they matter to you." I blew kisses and shifted back to settle down comfortably.

"So, today's topic is your conscience and taking people's things." I clapped my hands for extra emphasis.

"Let's be clear, taking people's things without permission is stealing. It's Haram, it's against any religious belief I know, so why do people do it?

How do people take others things without feeling any sense of remorse. Taking people's things doesn't stand alone at taking petty things, it involves, lying, breaking their heart, no repentance and so on. You all know the gist.

Why exactly do people have an idea in their heads that Allah doesn't see them when they do these things?And guys" I screamed, feeling the pain of my smashed computer and broken door.

"How do people walk away after stealing? Do they do it stealthily or walk with pomp and pagentry! It's hard to understand the logic behind it. Really it is." I looked at the camera and saw that I'd spent already three minutes, I needed to get to five.

Four minutes later, I was done. I sent the file to my laptop, edited it in about twenty minutes straight and immediately turned on the wifi, saw that Abdul had not paid for it since I left. I shook my head and paid, then uploaded the video to all my social media accounts. Take that Amal!

I picked up my phone and picked Ma's number out of my contacts list and after just one ring, she picked with a sigh.

"Beebah am. How are you?" (My Beebah)
I sighed and turned the filming chair to face my bed and placed both legs on the matress before replying. "I'm fine, I just got back to Abuja." She whispers a dua of protection for me and I say Amen.

"Is everything okay? You sound exasperated." She states, she's not asking anymore. I cross my ankles on the lilac patterned down comforter and contemplate if I should really invite her.

"I just have some problems with Abdul and his wife." Her automatic sigh releases the indignation I've held inside all day, "Do you know Amal wore the only necklace I was able to get from my mom's things." Ma gasps, hard. "Ma , I want to so beat that thief out of her. Why would she take my things when she just got a lefe the other day?" I shout, the tears that had piled to the corner of my eyes spilled down.

"I'll take the next available flight to Abuja. Just do not say a word till I come." I shake my head, feeling like a twelve year old again and swallow all the saliva of frustration that had gathered in my throat.

"I want to divorce him. Ma, I don't care what people will say anymore. The other day, he raped me. In this year alone, he has slapped me and choked me at least five times. Who did I offend that has refused to forgive me that they cursed me with a man like him." Ma's sobbing reaches me from the phone and I wipe my own tears. It doesn't stop because I've been holding a lot of grief in, I haven't let any of it out. Haven't talked about it.

Ma doesn't speak, she just keeps sobbing and afterwards, ends the call. I don't try to call her back, I only log into my account and buy a ticket for Ma, the earliest flight is tomorrow by two pm so I pay and send Ma the details with tears streaming down my eyes uncontrollably.

I pushed myself off the chair and lay in bed, the uncomfortable material of my cardigan pinches into my side doesn't faze me as I cry my heart out. At this point, I would pray, but how much more can I pray if I don't take a step forward myself, how much more can I ask God to help if I won't take a step. So I pushed myself up and lowered the curtains I'd put up for light and stripped my clothes.

About twenty minutes later, probably all the hot water finished. I got out of the bathroom and slid on a dark brown jersey material jilbab with a hood, feeling only slightly better than I felt when I went in to bathe, I walked to where I'd dumped all the bags I brought from the supermarket.

I pull out a cup of halal Chinese instant noodles and extra spicy chili sauce. I step out of my room, lock the door securely behind me even though I'm the only living being in this whole apartment. Abdul and his wife will be back later. Though while I showered, I thought of how I'd react, how I'd show my displeasure but I found none. I'm just too weary to give a damn about them and what they did.

The kettle's whistling jerks me from my reverie and I poured half of the chili sauce over the big cup of noodles I missed while on set. The food was regimented, no fatty foods, nothing with excess gluten so we would not gain weight, so this cup of noodles feels like a dream for me.

I poured a sizable amount of hot water into the cup and let it set, pulling my phone out of my pocket to check Instagram. The moment I scroll, I see the video I made has gotten about two thousand views in about thirty minutes. I sigh, I did that in the heat of that moment, but right now? I'm not so sure.

Several blogs have carried the video and posted it on their pages and people's comments are glaringly obvious, everyone hates stealing. Why then, do people steal? Why did Amal steal?

****
A/N

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Tell me who is your favorite YouTuber? I have many, but my faves of all are DinmaUmeh and the next best YouTuber TeemahGujbawu. You can go subscribe to her YouTube channel for premium content. The link to her page is on my conversation 😁

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