Daddy barges open the entrance door. In the very seconds he steps in, I see the way Iffat slips her phone underneath her skirt, so fast and unsuspicious, definitely from too many instances she had to do that.

The centre table is extra messy today. Books are strewn all over; Iffat's and I's, and Mummy is cooking white rice for lunch in the kitchen. At the exact same moment, Iffat and I, both seated on the floor, look at each other, for we both were breaking the rule by not joining Mummy in the kitchen to cook.

"Iffat, go and tell your mother to stop cooking and come here." Daddy is beaming. Iffat keeps her gaze looked with mine as she stands, as if to asks what's this about, but there is also a small smile on her lips. Daddy being happy is really infectious. No, infectious isn't a right word, it sounds too negative to describe happiness, sort of the word you keep to only describe diseases. Daddy's happiness is like the concept of Diffusion as they have taught us in Biology; his happiness seeps into us, into everything, gives it colour and vibrancy.

"Nadeen, close all the books and pack them away." He instructs me. I do as I am told, stacking mine and Iffat's own into different piles.

It doesn't take long for Mummy and Iffat to return. Mummy has her eyes wide in confusion, and she is looking at Daddy and all of us.

"Somebody in this room just got promoted, who do you think it is?" Daddy is glowing brighter than stars at this point.

A loud gasp sounds, and I don't even know who it is from. Immediately, Mummy goes into prostration of appreciation to God, and stays there for a while, and Iffat is clapping in glee. I laugh, because this promotion is something Daddy has always wanted in his job. And he got it. There are no other words to describe this than Alhamdulilah.

"And..", Daddy continues as soon as Mummy stands from her prostration. "...who else in this room is going to take almost double his former salary?"

Iffat is jumping up and down at this point. Mummy has her palms raised to the heaven. A tinkle of joy escapes my lips.

"And to celebrate that salary, I am going to take out the most important people in my life for an early dinner." He looks at his watch as he says this. "That means that all of you have ten minutes to get ready."

Iffat dashes to the room, and Mummy looks at the kitchen door and back at Daddy.

"But what of the rice?"

Daddy waves a hand. "Forget that nonsense rice. From today onwards, we are going to be eating Basmati rice, nothing else. Everybody is going to become fat, our Nadeen here will be envied by all of her friends for the way she will splurge money on them."
I giggle at that, and Daddy's mouth hangs open comically.

"Ahn ahn, Nadeen? You are still here? Remains five minutes oo! If I leave you, we will bring back chicken bones oo."

Quickly, I pack the books and then carry them all to our room. Iffat is already dressed in her favorite Mom jeans, her favourite wedged sandals and a wavy colourful Zara top Mummy had bought for her as a stock from Kotangora last year. She is wearing an orange undercap and an orange scarf, and she turns to look at me.

"Okay?" She asks. It compliments her fair skin tone well. I give her two thumbs up in response before she bounces out of the room. As I open my wardrobe, she peeks her head back.

"Nadeen, we are rich!" She squeals and disappears just as she came.

I think we are rich now, and maybe Daddy might decide to move places. I really would not mind, although I will miss Yusrah dearly, the school was not too suitable for me to stay again.

The teachers are disliking me now that that stupid Nasir came with his 'no-calculator' calculating brain. Then there is Zainab too, I will miss her, and Abu Hurairah, but if I can go to a new school and go to a better environment, shouldn't that be better?

It really didn't feel like it though.

I take out the first gown I see; a stretchy black gown that sometimes serves the function of a Jumah wear on holidays when NEPA refuses to bring the light after I have procrastinated on ironing my clothes. I pair it with a crimped chiffon scarf and light sandals, and it takes me less than three minutes to throw it all together.

"Nadeen!" Iffat's screech flies all the way into the room.

I hurry out of the room, and when I arrive the living room, I see I am the last to get ready. Daddy just threw on a blazer over his dress shirt, and his smile is still as bright as when he just comes in.

"Nadeen", his eyes go over my dressing. I look at myself, and I like the simplicity of the gown because there is no telling where we are going to. Classy, chic, casual, it serves all purposes.

"Nadeen has dragged her Holy Holy self with us oo. We are not going to Asalatu or your Ile kewu oo. We are going to a good fancy restaurant." Daddy laughs.

I look down at my dress again.

"Should I quickly go and change it?"
He checks his watch, and claps his hands. "No time. When we get back, I will give all you three women lessons on how to dress properly." He guffaws. "You women will not kill me. Oya, oya, let's go."

We clamber into his car, an old Honda I have come to grow up with. I take the duty of opening and closing the gate once the car is out. When I return to the backseat with Iffat, she is giddy with excitement. She takes my hand in hers and squeezes, a squeal escapes her in the process. Daddy and Mummy are conversing, and the entire mood of the car is so bubbly.

It takes us thirty minutes to pull up in front of what was once Mr Biggs but is now an unpopular small franchise restaurant, Eat 'n' be Happy, both 'p's and the E hanging out and moving with the wind. Iffat's brows crease, in that familiar way they as if they were fixed for no movement. She bellows out a laugh.

Dad looks back as his car engine dies. "Why are you laughing?"

"No, I had the random guess that it is Eat 'n' Happy we are going to." She laughs again, her undereyes curving in a smile. "But you said it is somewhere fancy and I know it is behind this building."

There is a build-up I have known to be familiar with, shifts I learnt to detect as quickly as the motion of the air. So when the air grew tense, and it was already beginning to clog at my orifices; nose, ears, mouth, eyes, I know something is soon going to go wrong, if it is not well handled.

Diffusion, Daddy's mood is permeating the air.

"It is Mr Biggs we are going to." Daddy says with a straight face. His eyes pin on Iffat, and she opens her mouth to say something. The words do not come out, and I am being choked by the very air I breath.

"I mean...", she looks away from his gaze. "...I love their food. It has been so long I have eaten out I only see Iya Abbey's place as the real definition of a restaurant."

Mummy laughs this time. "So you want a bigger Iya Abbey behind this restaurant, abi?"

I laugh at this. When Iffat and I keep laughing like two girls who have loose screws in their heads, Daddy simply shakes his head.

"Local women", he says as a joke, and my body breaks free in relief. He steps out of the car, and as we all step out, Iffat grabs my hand and whispers, "This place? What the fuck?"

I wince at her cuss, but I say nothing. Daddy locks his car door and we all step inside. The air in the restaurant does not shake off the heat from the outside, almost as if the AC is broken or is too low. There are two tables available in the throng of people here, and we all occupy one.

"Let us all go and select our orders." Mummy says as she stands up.

"I want three meatpies, two sausage rolls, one Fanta..."

"Ehn ehn ehn." Daddy cuts off Iffat. He uses a finger to instruct Mummy to sit back down, and uses another finger to instruct me to stand.

"Nadeen will help me carry all the orders back. Oya."

We move to the queue with the least amount of people in line. I stare as the menu scroll past on the showbar. The roasted chicken sounds nice to eat, and I can't decide if I want Jollof or fried rice. Daddy is doing that tapping noise with one of his feet, a public sign that he is impatient.

When it gets to our turn, I decide on fried rice. However, Daddy reads out the orders for us all without looking at the showbar. Four sharwamas, four pepsi and four mini pack of chips. The waiter, a man who looks like he should not be near food with the amount of sweat gathering around his face and armpits, takes down our orders. Thank God he has gloved hands.

Daddy and I go back to our seats. Iffat looks around the restaurant, it is odd to see her without her phone, but again, she avoids using it in front of Daddy unless to take her online lessons, and even with that, she pretends to take it when he is around.

Daddy and Mummy are talking, and when Iffat catches my eyes on her, she sticks out her tongue in a playful manner. I smile, and she leans close to me.

"We need to be going out more", she says. I want to tell her I go out to school all the time, but I doubt that is what she means. "Eating home cooked meals all the time can be boring."

I want to say Mummy's food is not boring, but I hear our order being called. Daddy looks at my direction, and it is my cue to go and collect it.

 
The tray shakes as I move to our table, and it smells so nice, now I understand why Daddy picked the best orders for us. I place it in the centre, and sit back. Iffat's smile drops.

"Ehen, Oya, let's eat." Daddy says, and moves to take the first one. Mummy follows suit, and Iffat pulls one towards herself.

"This is not meatpie." She says.

"It is not, since you don't know any snacks than meatpie, puff puff and buns, I am helping you to get adjusted to more modern food." Daddy says as he unwraps the paper and keeps vigilant eyes on Iffat. Mummy follows suit, and I see him take a large bite and gives a satisfactory grunt, a sign the food is good. I don't know if he likes sharwama, but it does ounds posh to eat. It would be nice to say I went out with family for sharwama and drinks to my friends the next day.

"Good, good." He says.

I unwrap mine, and I take a huge bite as well. The sauce dribbles down my chin and a bit lands on my hijab. What I do not expect is the rawness of the scotch bonnet. It heats my tongue fast, and I reach for a bottle of Pepsi to drown the coughs.

Iffat is already eating, but I do not miss the frown on her face. What is wrong with her? I don't want her to ruin this outing, we barely have any as it is. She chokes, and there is a full cough from her. She reaches for my Pepsi, and in the process, knocks it over. It spills down on me, and I scream as the cold liquid fizzles and soaks into my dress.

"I am so sorry!" Iffat looks like she is about to cry. She uses one end of her hijab to pat down my dress, but our parents are quick to stop her. A waitress comes forth with a mop.

"We are so sorry." Daddy says in a clear, patient voice to the waitress; his 'outside' voice, Iffat usually calls it. Clear, patient, polished. She directs me to the toilet where I can go and properly clean up what I can. I decline. I can change when I get home.

"Can we have this to go?" Daddy asks the waitress. She goes away, and the minute she is gone, when Daddy looks at our direction, I can see the rage brewing behind his eyes. He does not say anything, Mummy does not say anything, I see a tear slip out of Iffat's eye, and she is still apologizing.

The knot creeps its way from my belly up to my chest and my throat, and it feels it has them all tied together with a rope, it is a miracle I can stand upright.

The waitress returns, and she gives us a white nylon bag. Mummy packs all our stuff inside it.

"We can stay." I say. "It is not all the Pepsi that poured on me. It is not affecting me."

"Let's go." Mummy says once she finishes packing up the food.

"Seriously, it will dry quickly." I say. "Let's continue eating..."

But Daddy is already moving towards the door. We all leave, and the minute we enter into the car, Daddy starts it and drives.

"You are a very stupid girl, Iffat." He says. The veins on his hands pulsate with a fierce, dangerous rhythm. He grips the steering wheel as if he wants to break it.

"I take you out and this is how you embarrass us all? First of all, you were talking like as if you are too big for that place. Then we enter and you are spewing nonsense order from your mouth. Three meatpie, twenty scotch eggs, 3 Fantas, no shame! Look at yourself in the mirror first and maybe you will rethink that. I'm telling you, by the time you reach twenty, we'd have to break the entrance doors just to allow you fit to pass every room in the house."

He didn't stop, Iffat's face wears no expression, a mirror of how I think mine must look, but the tightening is there on the inside of me, gripping, holding, strangling.

Mummy does not say a word, only punctuates the air with an apology or a light admonishment of patience, not too over the top so he'll not go hysterical. He does keep quiet when we almost get home, and as we enter the house, Mummy Anu and her daughter are at the gate. Anu, her eldest, opens the gate for us as we approach.

"Welcome oo." Mummy Anu greets us as we step out of the car. She must have noticed the mood, because a concerned frown settles on her face.

"Ahn ahn, what happened?" She looks at me, but I shake my head.

Daddy proceeds to tell her about his promotion, she yells in jubilation, jiggly arms thrown towards the sky and feet moving in a dance rhythm. Mummy stands next to Daddy, a smile on her face, proud.

"So you went to celebrate, abi?" Mummy Anu asks, her eyes going to the nylon Mummy is holding.

"Yes", Daddy looks at Iffat. Her face is still blank, she looks like a robot.

Daddy launches into Iffat's poor behavior at the restaurant. Now that he says it, it does sound like she was 'too big' for the restaurant, and also just because Daddy's rich now doesn't mean we could waste money. We still have to save money for other things, the economy is as fragile as glass now.

I feel guilty for thinking that about my sister, but it is the truth. The truth can be painful.

Mummy Anu tuts, her eyes spreading disappointment on Iffat, but she still begs Daddy to forgive her. Daddy lets it be, and Iffat and I head to our rooms.

"I know you didn't do it on purpose." I say to her as we change.

She only gives me a nod in response. She is now in her long singlet that covers up to her upper thigh, fingers pulling at a flesh here and there as she looks into the mirror. She does this sometimes, checking her body when a comment is made, something as small as family members talking about how she's added a good amount of weight, or as big as Daddy making references to her eating habits. And I get asked the questions, I am the solid wall of reassurance.

"I eat too much, right?" She asks me.

"No, you don't."

She turns, pinching at the skin around her legs, her face robotic, her voice low.

"I think my thighs will soon begin to rub against each other, abi?" She pats her cheeks. "These big cheeks make me look old, don't they?"

"What big cheeks?" I ask.

She sighs, the only emotion that comes out of her. Even that one I cannot decipher.

She still keeps pinching, holding, weighing, as if her skin is some bad meat she wants to discard, like the extra fat Mummy cuts off beef before boiling.

Daddy's words have done it's work again and seeped into every pore of her skin. The science of Diffusion.

When Mummy comes inside and gives us our sharwamas, fries and soft drinks, Iffat hands me all of hers.

"I'm not hungry anymore." She says, and doesn't eat a single bite of food till she we all go to bed.