Barakah hadn’t mentioned this to Kauthar, but since Sumayya Aliyu Manga’s arrival, she had been dreaming of her mother. 

Not that this was the first time, she had dreamed of Salsabil the first time Kauthar mentioned her. She was twelve years old then. But the memory Kauthar had placed in her head was still as vivid, her mother, still as real.

From then, Barakah only dreamed of her mother whenever she was lonely, sad or angry at either Kauthar or the world in general. Especially that day Kauthar had scolded her about her makeup.

Barakah only looked scared to make Kauthar feel superior and perhaps, lenient in punishing her. She didn't reveal that the only reason why she had agreed to put on makeup was because she had seen an old picture of her mother: young, in a frilly gown, face shining with powder, lips gleaming with gloss. 

Lately, she had been feeling suffocated by Kauthar, always telling her not to do the things she wanted—like wear trousers, put on shorter hijabs and visit her friends, and making her do the things she didn't want.

The one time she asked Kauthar for the reason, Kauthar gave her the look—where her eyes dimmed and a corner of her lips tilted up, which Barakah found frustrating. "It's for your own good." 

How? She wondered, but didn't ask anymore. 

Perhaps this was what she was talking about. Barakah thought, eyes closed tightly, knowing that if she opened her eyes, she won't see Hoor's wet face beaming over her, or hear Kauthar calling from her room, or even, see her mother smiling, asking, what's wrong?

Barakah knew it was morning, for she could hear the chirps of birds in the trees surrounding the house she was being kept in, she could feel the warm tingle of the sun rays on her cheeks, she could taste the dryness of her tongue, moving, rolling around her mouth, seeking for the moistness she had denied it by refusing to drink the table water Aunty had given her since Friday. 

Aunty. Her mind roared in anger. How could she? How could she lie to Barakah that she wanted an escort to their Barakah's house, when she had been there during Hoor's naming ceremony? 

Barakah sighed loudly and turned her face away from the sun. It wasn't really her fault though. It wasn’t as though the Aunty tried hard to convince her. Barakah had been eager to get home on time so she could get ready before Aunty Sumayya arrived. She had been looking forward to showing her off at the mosque, saying "See my Aunty who looks like my mother."

The door creaked open. Barakah stilled, eyes still closed. She already knew who it was. 

" Good morning dear," a deep sing-song voice sang, closing the door with a click. 

As Barakah listened for the soft flap of Aunty's slippers against the rough cement floor, she remembered to breath and move a little, placing both hands under her cheek. 

She heard the low moan of the table beside her bed, the dropping of a tray of food, then a shuffle of clothes, before the bed dipped, slowly, creaking loudly. Barakah rolled her eyes. Of course the bed would creak, Aunty was an elephant of a woman. 

"My dear, " she heard again, dreading what would come next: Aunty's large hand shaking her awake. 

" Wake up." Barakah didn't stir. After two more shakes, Aunty sighed. She peeled one eye open to see Aunty staring at the window behind her.

Barakah hoped she was feeling guilty enough to let her escape, since her 3-day hunger strike hadn't worked. 
I know you're awake." Autry said, eyes still on the window. 

Sighing loudly, Barakah sat up and folded her arms. She flicked a glance at the food: one covered bowl with a spoon on top. She scrunched her face, "I'm not hungry."

Aunty turned to her with her signature smile that expanded her round face, the smile that made Barakah trust her." You need your strength."

"To go home?" Barakah tore her eyes away from the tall tree with large star shaped leaves that loomed over the house to face her, "Today is Monday. Do you know?" 

"Yes, but you won't be here for long." She reached out for Barakah's hand, but stopped on seeing her flinch. "You'll go home soon, don't worry."

She started to smile, but as the door opened, she quickly stood and faced the person. 

Barakah didn't bother looking at the man. His face was covered by a black wool mask, with shades over his eyes. Barakah wondered if he could breath properly. 

"Good morning." Aunty greeted, bending her knees slightly. 

"Not eaten yet?" He asked. 

“ Not yet.” Aunty replied for her. 

He nodded and walked towards Barakah and stood over her. She kept her head down. "You'll have to eat." He said. 

Barakah huffed, "When can I go home?" 

"Unfortunately, your parents haven't been co-operative. So…" Barakah's heart thundered  against her chest as she waited for him to finish. "you'll have to stay a bit longer."

"But—" Barakah started to say, almost the sake time Aunty said it. 

Barakah stared at Aunty who was staring at the Mask man (as she called him). 

He tilted his head towards the door, and without saying anything to Barakah, or waiting for Aunty, he left the room. 

Without thinking, Barakah shot up from the bed, careful not to make it creak. She got to the white wooden door and peeked through the keyhole. There was nothing except a small bush-less clearing, then the white wall adjoining the house where Aunty's voice was coming from. 

What do you mean you refused the ransom?" She asked loudly. 

"Ah ah, have you forgotten that this is not a ransom matter. They need to pay."

"Pay what?" Barakah flinched at the harshness. Who knew Aunty could be angry? "How is this going to bring Salasabee back?" 

Barakah glared at the key hole. How dare she call her mother's name wrongly? 

Mask man sighed, "Look, I know what I'm doing. She didn't deserve they did to her. She was better than them. Better off without them."

Barakah frowned, what were they talking about? 

"Okay, I hear you. But how does this change anything?"  "It will change something once I take her away from them."

Barakah’s eyes widened at this. Where was he taking her to? 

What do you mean? Shebi the plan was to scare them small?"

"Well, initially. Until I got a juicy offer."

"I don't get."

There was a shuffle, then he said, "I got a call from an Aliyu Manga, promising me 20 million naira if I can take Barakah to Abuja."

Barakah froze. Was that? No! She wouldn't. Would she? She placed her hand on her chest, swallowed, and continued listening. 

Aunty clapped her hands in surprise. "You're joking, abi?" 

"No. In fact, I was already planning to collect Ismail's offer when this one came up."

"But this was not the plan na. Does your partner know?"

Barakah gasped. He wasn't the only one?!

"Why should she?"

"But this was her idea na."

"And so?" He hissed. 

"Brother mi, this is not good o, it's not good. I get the fact what Kauthar did to Salasabee was not good, but you're taking this too far. You're no longer fighting for her, you're just doing your own."

Barakah tried to breath. She moved towards the bed, tired of listening to the plans for her disappearance. 
She plopped down on the bed.  Who was the mask man's partner? Why would Aunty Sumayya want to take her away? And most importantly, what did her parents do to her real mother? 

With these raging thoughts, she fell asleep, hoping to see her mother once again. Perhaps she'd have answers for her, perhaps she'd take her away before these people did. 

A/N

Peace be upon y'all!

I hope your week has been going well?

As for me, it's been good.

...

How do you feel about Barakah's pov? Interesting, I hope?

And, who, pray, is the kidnapper?

Can you guess?

Lastly, do you think Sumayya has a hand in the kidnap?

Let me know your answers in the comments section.

And don't forget to vote and share with ya friends and families.

🥰🥰🥰