Every nation has that one idol they don’t want to give up. Ours are human emotions and desires. – Umm Zakiyyah 

Walida felt the days swimming past her in a hurry to catch the weekend. Since that eventful Monday, visits had poured forth from near and far: from relatives to friends to colleagues and neighbours. It made her feel secure and loved with the numerous well wishes she got. There also lies the advantage of living close to relatives, for they would always be easily accessible— to celebrate with you or mourn over your loss with you. 

A heavy rain fell on Saturday morning, halting Walida’s plans to do some laundry, and visit her mother, who had just returned from Abuja where she had gone for a friend‘s wedding. Now that her children were all settled in their homes, Hajj Muna felt she could travel as she saw fit, regardless of what the family thought. 

Walida was just rounding up her afternoon prayer when she heard a knock on the door. She stood up and folded her mat, wondering who could be outside on such a rainy afternoon.

She made her way to the door and opened it: Mrs Agatha, the vice headteacher of their school, stood beside Aisha— both clutching their folded wet umbrellas. 

“Oh, welcome ma.” She smiled widely, letting them in. As she sat down, she took off her floor-length black hijab and placed it on the arm of the cushion while her visitors sat on the couch to her right. 

“How are you dear?” Mrs Agatha asked, eyes crinkling as she smiled. Her green lace gown was dark against her albino skin. 

“I’m fine ma. And you?” Walida smiled back. Then she glanced at Aisha, whose eyes had been glued to her phone since she came in. Then, as if being told to look up, Aisha caught her eyes. 

“You Kuma, ba gaisuwa ne–can’t you greet?” Walida glared at her. 

Aisha rolled her eyes in reply. “Won’t you serve us anything? Ah ah.” She spread her arms, sharing a look with Mrs Agatha. “see us coming to visit you under this heavy rain.” She said as Mrs Agatha smiled, shaking her head.

“Why are you complaining, are you not an escort?” Walida replied, standing up. “Ehe ma, please what can I get you?” 

“Ah, there’s no need, I’m actually in a hurry. I just wanted to see how you’re faring and to apologize for not being here earlier.”

“There’s no need, I know how busy you are,” Walida said. “At least let me get you something for the kids.” She headed for the kitchen. 

“And me too o!” Aisha called out. 

After Mrs Agatha left, Walida and Aisha headed back inside. Just then, the electricity came back on. 

“Ehen,” Walida said, impressed. 

“You see the good luck my visit comes with ba?” Aisha said, tucking her legs beneath her black abaya. 

“Toh ya ne?” Walida asked. 

“Nothing much.” she shook her head, eyes on her phone. “Ehen,” she excitedly tapped Walida’s thigh covered in fitted black jeans. Walida raised her brows, giving her an are-you-normal look. 

After a few rapid taps on her phone, Aisha handed it to Walida. “Ki gani.” 
Walida peered at the picture of a raspberry coloured lace adorned with beaded flowers. “Wow,” she exclaimed. “But why are you showing me?” she asked, handing the phone back. 

Aisha narrowed her eyes. “Ke ma dai–look at you, it’s the anko lace na. The latest and most expensive.”

Walida gasped, placing a hand on her chest. “Kai, but what about the one we bought?” Her heartbeat was loudly in her chest. 

“That one,” Aisha rose to pull up her yellow veil over her left shoulder. “Aunty Bintu said it’s the second after this one.” She shook her head. “I was like ‘Aa ah, we have already bought it na.’ but she said that this one comes with a bag and shoes and we can just add 10k (ten thousand naira) to get all and return that one.”

“Eh?” Walida bellowed, hands on her waist. “What of the one we have, doesn’t it have its own bag and shoes?”

Aisha made a face. “Does it matter, since we have not taken it to the tailor yet, we can return it na, ko?” 

Walida’s eyes darted across the room, in search of what to say. “Daga ina za samu 10k Aisha, kina ganin abun dake qasa yanzu–where do I get 10k, can’t you see the situation on ground?”

“Haba Walisco,” Aisha frowned, turning towards the TV. “it’s not that I don’t know, but you know how important this wedding is, how many important people will be there. Ba na son a bar mu a baya fa–I don’t want us to be left behind o.”

“Hmm…” Walida folded her arms. Which kind of wahala is this na? She wondered. Do le ne–is it by force?
“ Toh, zamu gani.” she said. 

Aisha eyed her. “Meaning I should tell her to keep for us?” She held up her phone.

Walida sighed. “Tukunna, bari mugani kawai–not yet, let’s see first.” 
     
… 

Later in the evening, Walida was preparing dinner when Shamsu came up behind her.

“Uwargida sarautan mata–first wife, The Queen mother.” He hailed, tilting her head back for a light kiss. 

“Ya yau–how are you today?” She asked as he leaned against the wooden drawers. 

“Ga munan dai–just there.” he shrugged. 

“How was the meeting?” she asked, reducing the gas flame and covering the pot firmly to allow the food to simmer. 

“Well, Qasim and I met Alhaji Yunusa, and Alhaji has agreed to speak to his partner, a lady named Grace. He said she wants to open a big store and she'll be needing people to help her take charge of it.”

Walida nodded, turning to him. “Masha Allah. Allah ya sa albarka–May God bless it.”

“Ameen.” He said. 

She turned to check the food. Satisfied, she turned off the gas and moved the pot to the next burner for it to cool off. 

“But muna buqatan fifty thousand naira.”

“For what na?” She gaped at him. 

Shamsu shook his head. “In case if this one doesn’t work out. We can use this to rent a small shop.”  

Walida shook her head. “Why can’t you just be optimistic? Instead of preparing for backup, at least pray on this one to be successful mana, ko?”

Shamsu sighed and pinched his nose. “Are you giving me the money or not?” He asked, but Walida could hear the anger in his tone.

“Like how much do you need now?”

“Hmm toh,” Shamsu tilted his head. “Like 25-30k.” he nodded. 

Chab! She mused. These people want to finish my small savings. And we’re not yet in the middle of the month. Haba! 

“Hmm,” she mumbled, reaching for a ceramic plate. 

Shamsu passed one to her. “Ya kika ce ne?” He asked, voice filled with hope. 

Walida smiled, but inside, she was reeling: “When should I expect it back, you know I’m yet to send my monthly contribution for the month.” She said. And my lace. She mentally added. 

“Haba uwargida,” he nudged her playfully. “is it not me again? I’ll pay you as soon as I'm settled.”

Chab! She thought, see who’s talking. That’s what you always say, but when it’s time to pay back, you’ll be dodging. But if I buy that lace 30k, with the bag and shoes, at least I’ve done good for myself. Kai, but I like that green one too. Can I buy both? And again, what about sewing? 

“Ba ki ce komai ba–you haven’t said anything.” Shamsu’s voice brought her out of her head. 

She turned to him with a tight lipped smile. “Zamu gani.” She handed him his tray of food. 

He smiled back and walked out, calling the boys from their room. 
She sighed, watching him go.

I hope Aisha will agree to buy one lace so we can share o. If not, Sai dai a bar ni a baya–they'll have to leave me behind. She mused, making her way to the dining room where her family awaited. 

A/N
What is up with those two and wrappers?😂

And what do you think of Walida and Aisha's friendship?

Are you a Walida or Aisha?
Which one do you have in your life?

Let me know in the comments.

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😍😍😍