It was a day to Eid-el- fitr, the twenty ninth day of fasting. Ma Fatima was braiding my hair. We sat on a mat adjacent to Mama saratu's part of the house. I had a pencil between my fingers and was sketching.

It's been ten days since I left Khala Naazi's place. Luba almost cried when was leaving. I spent a week there and baba allowed me only for a few days, I had to return before he sent for me.

Mama saratu returned last week. I don't know how, but I woke up and saw her sweeping her dust covered room one morning. I didn't bother ask anyone regarding that matter.

Adam and Hajara were overjoyed. Their mother was back. It's astonishing to know that they consider her their role model, If only they knew, that inside her rib cage, is a blackened heart. It hints that she can never love someone, nor show care and affection. She's like that. She loves seeing the downfall of her family, and hatching conspiracies are a cakewalk for her.

But ever since she came back, she has neither spoke to nor fought with Ma fatima. But thinking she has turned over a new leaf is impossible. It's simply the calm before the leopard attacks.

The sound of Baba's sandals hitting the cemented floor made my head snap to his direction. He wore his shoes hastily and placed his Zanna Bukar cap on his almost bald head. He walked over to our direction.

"I'm expecting some important guests five days after Eid, i need you to take care of them properly, as they were very nice and generous to me in the past years.The guest room and Halima's room should be prepared for them to settle. And here..." He stated with authority, handing out notes of Naira to Ma Fatima

"If you need to buy anything, and Yes, ask me if you need more" he said

MaFatima looked flabbergasted. She stood up muttering something silently while wiping her hands with the ends of her wrapper. She hesitated, looking towards Mama Saratu that was picking grains of millet, before collecting the notes and counting them. "This is more than enough" she said and Baba looked shocked because everyone knew mama Saratu always collects more than enough money from him and still claims it's not enough to handle the whole household.

"Thank you" she said slowly in a low tone, probably so I wouldn't hear. "For making me capable of handing a responsibility" She loosened her wrapper and tied the money in a tight knot.

Baba pulled out some more notes from his pocket and handed to her while I watched like a spectator. "Here, buy something for yourself" he said and walked away.

MaFatima tied the notes remaining with the other end of her wrapper and continued to braid my hair, applying a generous amount of Shea butter to my scalp. She hummed to herself happily. She seems happy to be made worthy of handing a responsibility.

Mama Saratu was the one that handled everything in our household. Baba's trust in her had reached the sky. But now, I think that his trust in her lessened.

****

It was Eid. The whole city was full of impish gleeful children, running from one neighborhood to another, eating delicacies and playing joyfully. Eid is everyone's favorite day, as they get to wear new clothes, and eating and socializing.

But I wasn't happy this Eid. I wasn't anticipating the beautiful skirt and blouse that lay on my bed well ironed, nor the glittery duppatta that lay untouched since Khala Naazi gave it to me as my Eid gift when I was leaving ten days earlier.

My mind was stuck thinking about one thing only.

Fakir.

Had he left me for good?

Maybe he found someone else.

Maybe he never truly loved me.

The more I thought of him made me more angry. We weren't even engaged yet. He didn't send his parents over to my place for the formal introduction, as he wanted to get to know me well. Maybe it was just a farce, a pretense. He used me as a pass time and I stupidly fell for it.

I suddenly remembered his blank expressions as he spoke, or his emotionless eyes. His promises were too deceiving. I was indeed blinded by love.

There could be no other reason why he would travel abruptly, and not a single letter from him for three months now.

This year,  I didn't join baba and Ya Abdulhakeem to the Eid prayers. Adam and Hajara went. I stayed at home and helped Ma Fatima with the meals.

Mama Saratu was in her room all morning. She didn't feed the pigeons, nor cook breakfast as she does every morning.

Ma Fatima and I made lunch early. We made sinasir and miyan taushe, biski, miyan gyada, and dambum zogale(moringa salad).

The whole village gathered around palace, to watch the king and his children, as they rode on horses that were dressed beautifully in a royal costume.  It was an annual function that everyone anticipated eagerly.

I laid down on my small bed lost in thoughts when Ma Fatima showed up.

"Halima..you've been disturbed all day, is something wrong?" She sat beside me.

"Fakir..." I blurted out absentmindedly.

"What about him" she inquired

"He..he just left. Without a word, he didn't even tell me. I haven't heard from him in ages now...I have a feeling he had been lying to me all along..he isn't marrying me..."

"Halima dear" she said with a giggle. "Men have a deceiving nature, and you my dear, you're one in a million, any man will be very lucky to have you as a wife. Stop sulking, the fool doesn't even know the gem he let go off"

I smiled when she call him a fool. He is surely, a big fool

She must have seen my change of mood when she spoke. "You should take out anything necessary you need from your room and move to mine, the guests will be here in five day"

I frowned. "Umma Fatima, why must it be my room...Ya Abdulhakeem is rarely at home, his room can be given to the guests" I said with a childish pout.

"Your father said so, and it's only for a few days. You'll have your room back afterwards, okay?"

I nodded. 

***

Fakir, I won't go straight into asking pleasantries, as for the past three months, I haven't been in a pleasant mood.

You left without a single word and that makes me ponder if I really meant something to you.

It took me an hour to find your current address and write to you, while you didn't spare me a letter in more than a hundred days.

If I truly meant something to you then I should get a reply within five day, and If  I don't get any letter from you Fakir, then, I'll get that you have moved on and I'll consider myself naive for believing in your sweet words and promises.

Goodbye.   

                             Halima

I folded the piece of paper and sealed the envelope. I knew the very reason I wrote Goodbye at the end of the letter. It is probably the last time I'll write to him.

The post office was crowded as everyone wrote to their dear ones in Eid. I walked back home feeling rejected. The letter will reach Abuja in three day. That means if I don't get a letter from him or phone call in seven day, then I'll also move on.

It took two days of consecutive thoughts to finally summon the courage to write to Fakir.  It wasn't easy to find his address, but Auntie Luba's driver turned out to be a very good friend of Fakir and had visited him in Abuja a month ago. He gave us the address. And since Hadi, the driver stayed with Fakir for a week in that same address, I have no doubt about the address being wrong.

I have just one problem now

Waiting patiently for seven days. 

********

What will happen? Will Fakir reply her letter or not? Find out.

Vote please.

Husnah Hussain🌸