48~Fifty shades
It was 4:00 am.
Hanan woke up earlier than usual to observe her nafil prayers.
After praying, she remained seated on her prayer mat, wrapped in the long khimar that draped to her feet. Her prayer beads slipped gently through her fingers as she whispered one supplication after another.
Finally, she breathed out softly.
"Alhamdulillah."
All praise belongs to Allah.
The words carried every ounce of gratitude in her heart.
Without Allah's mercy, she would never have made it this far. She wouldn't have survived the storms that once convinced her life would never know peace again.
Her thoughts drifted to the past.
To her mother...
To the heartbreaking way they separated.
To the little girl she used to be.
To the child she lost before ever getting the chance to hold.
Then... Jamila.
Her childhood best friend.
No... She was more than her best friend, she was a sister.
At least, that's what they had once called each other.
A pang of guilt settled heavily in her chest.
Jamila deserved better.
She deserved a friend who wouldn't ghost her without a proper explanation... a friend who wouldn't vanish for years the way she did.
Over the years, Hanan had secretly regretted walking away from their friendship.
She had also broken the promise she made, that one day she would come back.
But how could she have returned back then?
Her life had been in ruins.
She had been drowning in grief and problems she didn't know how to solve. The last thing she wanted was to become another burden in Jamila's life after everything Jamila had already done for her.
Now... Things were different.
Allah had rewritten her story.
Maybe...
Just maybe...
It was finally time to return.
To apologize.
To ask for forgiveness.
Even if Jamila no longer wanted her friendship, Hanan believed they deserved a proper ending instead of silence.
She lowered her head.
"Jamila... I hope you don't hate me."
The whisper disappeared into the quiet room.
By 5:30 am., the adhan for Fajr echoed from the nearby mosque, its melodious call filling the peaceful dawn.
Hanan finished her dhikr with istighfar, then rose from her prayer mat.
Facing the Qiblah, she raised her hands beside her ears.
"Allahu Akbar."
And she began her prayer.
"Hanan... is that really you?"
Abdul had just walked into the dining room, intending to grab a piece of masa before leaving for work, but he stopped mid way, staring at his sister in disbelief.
She glanced up.
"Who else would it be?"
She rolled her eyes before tearing off a piece of masa, dipping it into the rich spinach soup and popping it into her mouth.
Breakfast that morning consisted of fluffy masa served with vegetable soup packed with stockfish and chunky pieces of meat.
She had cooked it herself as a small thank you to everyone for making her birthday unforgettable.
"Wait!"
Just as Abdul turned toward the door, Hanan hurried after him.
She quickly filled a food flask with masa and soup before handing it to him.
"Take this. You can eat it at work."
His eyebrows shot up.
"You cooked this?"
He glanced dramatically at the wall clock before looking back at her.
"Now I understand why I was shocked to see you awake this early."
She narrowed her eyes.
"And what exactly are you trying to say?"
He laughed. "Nothing."
Then he grinned.
"I'm just happy to see my little sister already practicing for married life."
He lifted the flask.
"You do know Najib is a serious foodie, right?"
She smiled proudly. "I know."
Then she folded her arms.
"And I know you helped him plan yesterday's proposal."
"I did." He puffed his chest proudly. "And I hope you loved it."
He leaned closer.
"Seventy percent of that proposal was my idea."
Hanan burst into laughter. "Liar."
She shook her head.
"What do you even know about impressing a woman?"
"Oh?"
He smirked.
"Go and ask Amira."
"I'm sure she'll tell you how special I make her feel every single day."
Before she could throw another comeback, Abdul hurried toward his car.
Hanan chased after him.
"Speaking of Amira..."
She caught up just as he opened the driver's door.
"Can you drop me at her place on your way to work?"
He shook his head immediately.
"No."
"You have your own car now."
"But there's barely enough fuel to take me there and back." She pouted.
"And I'm not standing in those endless fuel station queues. You know how terrible it is with this ongoing fuel scarcity."
Abdul sighed. "So... what do you want me to do?"
"Give me a lift."
"I can't."
He checked his wristwatch.
"I'm already running late, and it's Monday. Traffic is going to be horrible."
He pointed toward her new Audi.
"Take an Uber if you have to. I'll buy fuel for your car on my way home."
He paused.
"And I also need to stop by Dad's place."
The smile on Hanan's face slowly disappeared.
The moment he mentioned Dad, she stopped listening altogether.
Abdul's father...
The man she met only once at the university where she had studied before moving to America.
She still remembered the warmth with which he had welcomed her that day and how, despite the circumstances surrounding her, he had given her the opportunity to study at his university.
That single encounter had left her with a good impression of him...
Until she overheard that phone call.
His stern voice still echoed in her memory.
"If you don't send that girl away, Abdul, I'll disown you. I'll cut off every allowance you receive, and you will no longer have the right time to inherit the university."
But Abdul didn't listen.
"Dad, I can't. And you know I've never depended on you for a single penny. I've worked hard to build my business and Mom's abandonment taught me that, so you can keep your university."
At the time, Hanan was still struggling to recover from the loss of her unborn child... Little Me.
She heard father and son arguing over the loudspeaker.
His father's voice had been just as cold as she remembered.
"I insist that criminal leaves your house!"
Hanan had never told Abdul she overheard every word of that conversation.
Neither had Abdul ever brought it up.
She had fully expected him to send her back to her village.
But he never did.
Even now, she didn't know how he had managed to convince his father to let her stay, allowing her to live under his roof as his sister all these years.
Whenever she remembered it, the same feeling crept into her heart.
She had been such a burden.
"Hey!"
Abdul's voice snapped her back to reality.
"You zoned out."
"Sorry."
"I was saying..." He grinned mischievously. "Send my sweetest regards to Amira."
Then he lowered his voice dramatically.
"And give her a peck on both cheeks for me."
"Eww!" Hanan scoffed.
"I'm not doing that. Go kiss your girlfriend yourself."
Abdul burst into laughter as he climbed into his car.
"I'll tell her you refused!"
He drove out of the compound, still laughing.
"Nanny Ann, good morning."
Nanny Ann looked up from the dining table, surprise written all over her face as she stared at the neatly arranged dishes.
"You made all this?"
She pointed at the steaming masa.
"Yeah."
Hanan smiled proudly.
"Taste it and tell me what you think."
"I already know it'll be delicious just from the aroma."
Nanny Ann pulled out a chair and sat.
"And it's already eight thirty. Since when have you been awake?"
"I've been in the kitchen since six."
After Fajr, Hanan didn't go back to bed.
Instead, she spent the morning making sure her meal came out perfectly.
Nanny Ann took a bite.
Her eyes widened.
"Oh..."
She quickly took another.
"The soup is amazing! It's spicy and delicious."
She grabbed another piece of masa.
"And this masa..."
She shook her head in amazement.
"How did you make it this soft? Mine never comes out like this. You have to teach me."
Hanan laughed.
"I'm glad you like it."
"It's one of my mother's recipe."
"She used to make it every Eid celebration. I simply watched her until I learned."
"The next time I make it, I'll show you every step."
"I can't wait." Nanny Ann smiled warmly.
"Your mother truly passed only beautiful qualities on to you."
"May her soul continue to rest in peace."
"Ameen." Hanan smiled softly.
"Thank you, Nanny Ann."
"Don't mention it."
She gestured toward the chair opposite her.
"Come and eat with me."
"I've eaten already."
Hanan stood up. "I just want to take my bath."
"Going somewhere?"
"Yes."
"I'm visiting Amira."
"Oh."
Nanny Ann nodded.
"Alright then."
Hanan changed into a beautifully Ankara skirt and blouse that hugged her curves perfectly.
She tied it's scarf around her hair, slipped on a pair of gold earrings that perfectly matched her wristwatch and handbag, then completed the look with comfortable flat shoes
After draping her veil elegantly over one shoulder, she smiled at her reflection.
She was ready.
"Nanny Ann, I'm leaving."
"What time should we expect you back?"
"I won't stay long."
She checked the time.
"I should be home by three."
"Alright."
Nanny Ann smiled.
"Safe journey."
"And send my regards to my daughter in law and her family."
Hanan laughed. "Aww... that's so sweet. I'll tell them every word."
She waved. "Bye."
Her Uber arrived just as she stepped outside.
Hanan had expected to reach Amira's house by ten o'clock.
Instead... She didn't arrive until noon.
Monday traffic had other plans.
"As salamu Alaikum."
She rang the doorbell as she walked into the house.
Inside the sitting room sat Mama, comfortably watching Arewa24.
"Wa Alaikumus Salam!"
Mama looked up immediately.
"Hanan! Is that really you?"
"Yes, Mama."
Hanan dropped respectfully to her knees.
"Good afternoon."
"Good afternoon, dear."
Mama quickly opened her arms.
"Enough of that. Come here and give me a hug."
Hanan smiled before embracing the elderly woman.
"It's been such a long time."
"It has."
"I actually came last week, but I heard you and Baba had gone out."