Walida pouted at her reflection, placed a hand on her waist, turned to the left, winked, to the right, winked again. But her winks were not as blinding as the red stones on the lace she placed over body, which glittered when in contact  with the sun rays from the window by her right.

She turned away from the mirror and went to the bed, where two other shiny laces awaited. She placed the one she was holding and unwrapped the next—dark blue with white swirls. She held it up against her body and sought the mirror's approval. 

Once done, she kept it and plopped down on the bed, finally resting after the long day she had at school. She closed her eyes and smiled. Shamsu had really outdone himself, for only God knew how much she had been yearning for new wrappers. She was already getting tired of Aisha's constant show off of new clothes, bags and shoes, every single. day. 

Not that she was jealous of her friend, but she hated been reminded of what she didn't have. But now, she thought as she sat up, it was her turn to step up, for even Aisha didn't have these laces. How could she when they haven't even arrived in Nigeria?

She laughed out loud, then moved to wrap up the laces, as Aisha would be coming later from the market to obviously show off her new things. Only this time, Walida thought as she glanced at the only lace she didn't touch, wouldn't touch, the roles would be reversed. 

Walida was preparing dinner, something special to appreciate her darling husband for his generosity, when Aisha arrived.

"Kai, akwai zafi fa–there is heat." She said from the living room. 

"Ae mana, didn’t I tell you?" Aisha replied while stirring the cube shaped awaras covered with egg, frying in hot oil. "But ba kya jin magana–you're stubborn."

"Hmm, my dear, the only thing that would've stopped me is one heavy rain. If not…"

"Toh sannu," Walida packed the awara into a sieve, turned off the gas cooker, then checked the gingerbread cake in the oven. 

Sighing in satisfaction, she looked around to make sure everything was in order—the pot of pepper chicken sauce well closed, the flask of white rice tightly shut and the bowl of awaras safe in the microwave–before joining Aisha, who was engrossed in the final credits of Dadin Kowa. 

"Tam, how was it?" Walida  added, seated on the dark red cushion beside the sofa Aisha was sprawled on. 

Aisha let out a loud slow hiss, which Walida translated as "it didn't go well."

"Jifa," She pointed towards the blue bag beside her. 

Walida grabbed the bag and peered inside. She looked up at her friend, confused. "Ban gane ba." Aisha turned to her, eyebrows raised. 

Walida brought out a gold clutch covered in a soft small sack, then a gold veil with blue and red flowers embroidered in the center, followed by a set of gold shoes with black low heels." What is the problem? These are nice na."

Aisha sat up and yanked the shoes from her, pouting. "Nice, yes. But you know I don't want nice. I want shiny. I want unique. " She opened her arms. 

Walida scoffed, "Toh, is it not shiny?" She held up the cloth, which gleamed with every turn. 

"That's not even the worst part. Look," She brought out a receipt from the purse on her lap. 

Walida collected it and read, then she shook her head in disappointment. "All these things, 50k, and you're still complaining."

Aisha gaped at her, “Ke, this clutch was the same on Isha Samad used on her birthday fa, and she said it was 30k, mine is just 20." 

"How do you know she's not lying?"

Aisha placed her hands on her chest in shock. "Isha din?!"

Walida hissed loudly," Yes mana, or is she not a human being again? Me I don't even know why you're so obsessed with a spoilt brat that neither respect her parents nor understand the value of money."

Aisha ignored her, packing her things back into the bag. "At least she understands style."

Walida rolled her eyes." Yanzun nan, I will show you and her real style." She headed for the dining room and came back with her own bag, ready to strike. 

Aisha stared at the bag, "When did you go to market without telling me?" 

"Kedai Kalla, " She opened the bag and revealed the laces, slowly, one by one, watching as Aisha's eyes bulged out with each reveal. 

" Me nake gani–what am I seeing?" She said, gaping at the unwrapped lace. 

Waleeda watched as Aisha brought out the white Deluxe star lace littered with white and black stones. She laughed as Aisha held the soft fabric against her face, and inhaled its scent. She knew she had won.

"Where did you get this? When? How?" 

Walida turned to the TV, shaking her legs. "It's Maigida o." She picked at her nails. 

"Sata yayi ne?"

Walida's head whipped to face her friend, eyes blazing. "Yes, he stole it." She grabbed the lace from her. 

"Haba, I was just joking na." Aisha chuckled and pushed Walida's shoulder. 

"Well, it's not funny." She snapped and pick the bag from the floor. 
The
"Tam, Allah ya huci zuciyarki. "

Walida glared at her," Jealousy." She threw the lace at her face. 

Aisha laughed, "Can you blame me?" She resumed her appraisal, turning the lace from side to side. "But seriously, how did this get here. Ko hajiya Bintu ma doesn't know the actual date these laces will come to Nigeria. How did you now get it?" She shook the lace in Walida's face.

"Ai kin san Maigida's new boss orders wrappers abroad. And she seems to have connections."

Aisha nodded, "Lallai kam. So when are you sewing it?”

Walida shrugged and picked the lace's wrapping bag. 

" Ko zaki ban kyauta ne–will you gift it to me?" Aisha asked in a song-song voice. 

Walida eyed her. "Ba wani. Go and buy your own.

"Toh, let’s share."

Walida wagged her finger. 
Aisha puckered her pink coated lips, "how can only you have 15 yards?" 

"How can I not?"

"Iyyeh, hakane ko–is that so?"

"Ae mana, have you ever dashed me your lace before? Common that black bag I begged you to borrow me, you refused." She clicked her tongue. 

"But it's in the past na."

Walida reached for the lace, shaking her head. "For you, not me."

Aisha stared at her for some seconds." Okay o, no problem." 

Walida could feel Aisha’s eyes on the lace as she folded it and wrapped it. "What's the name of that his boss again?" Aisha asked. 

Walida paused, "Grace. Any problem?" 

"Is she married?"

Walida planted a hand on her waist, "Is there a problem?" She leaned forward. 

Aisha smiled, "Just answer mana."

" Tam. No. She's a widow."

Aisha's eyes widened in surprise, but Walida could see the glint of mockery in them. "That's a surprise. A window working with a married man." She glanced at the TV, then at the laces, then Walida. She leaned forward and said a in a low voice, "Kawata, be very careful."

Walida frowned." Ban gane ba."

Aisha smiled, picked her purse and stood up. "Oh, ba kince he doesn't come home on time again. And now he's buying you expensive laces ba? Hmm, let's see what will come up next." With that, she made her way to the door, just as Uthman and Abdul ran inside. 

As she stared after Aisha, her phone pinged from the dining table. But she got busy with the boys. 

It was after she had prayed Maghrib, and was on her way to the kitchen to serve the food that she remembered. But before she opened the text, she hoped it wasn't Shamsu, she hoped it wasn't one if his 'I won't be coming home early texts'.

Aisha was wrong. She told herself. There was nothing to worry about. Shamsu was not like other men. He'd never be. 

Before she opened the text, she glanced at the contact name, it was just a number. She sighed in relief and tapped the icon: Assalamu alaikum dear, this is Shamsudeen. Don't call my phone cos the battery is dead. We're currently in Zaria and rain is falling heavily. So we'll have to sleep here. Will be home tomorrow in sha Allah. Take care and greet my boys for me. 

Walida dropped the phone and collapsed on the chair, now hoping that the we meant Shamsu and Qasim, not Shamsu and Grace. 

Wawu. We hope so too, Walili dear.

Or what do you think?

Aisha sha has wahala😂

Let me know what you think of this chapter.

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Till we meet again, next week, in sha Allah.

F. I Uthman (Zah Storyteller HQ)