Our Fates: Book III of the Fate Trilogy

Eighteen: I Hope We Will

Barakah Muhammad

“Oooh,” Hoor whines for the third time. Mommy hisses while I roll my eyes.

As mommy opens the car and goes to open the bonnet, I drag Hoor’s hand to enter, but she refuses, squeezing her face like what I don’t know.

“Oooh, mommy, Hoor is wasting time.”

“Hoorul’ain, inna kamaki ko?” Her voice rings from behind the open bonnet.

That only makes things worse because Hoor sits on the floor and burst into tears.

Oh God.

I glare down at her. “Better stand up!” But she only stares at me, still crying.

I hiss and roll my eyes. At this point, there’s nothing I can do but tell her sorry, even though I don’t know why she’s crying. “Oya,” I bend down, “sorry.” I rub her back. She twists away. Now I feel like slapping her. “Sorry now.” I drag her to me. “I will not buy you bobo again o.”

She turns to me. “I don’t want to go to school.”

I frown. “Why?”

She moves from side to side like a fish before saying, “I want to stay at home with mommy.”

I can never understand why some people don’t like school. I love it. I get to meet different people and learn new things, even though Brianna and her friends used to say that we might not become what we study. I don’t care about that. Besides, it’s temporary.

Mommy joins us, her ironed blue hijab now looking squeezed. “Seems you’ll take an okada. The car is having problem.”

“Noooo,” Hoor goes again, as if that’s why she has been crying in the first place.

“Okay.” I stand and brush my uniform. I look down at her. She’ll just slow me down. “I’ll go by myself.” I tell mommy.

She frowns, “for why? We’ll go together.” She turns to Hoor, “Who beat my baby?” She lifts her from the ground. Hoor keeps quiet and hugs her. I roll my eyes.

***

“I don’t want to say I told you so, but I did.” Brianna says to me, standing with folded arms as other students rush past us to the already full kiosk windows.

“Okay, fine.” I tell her. “But it’s just for today. Aunty Kemi always has fresh eggrolls and meat pies.”

“Maybe she’s sick.” Tinu, Brianna’s best friend says, her mouth already oily.

“Don’t tell me you’ve started eating already.” Brianna says, eyes wide.

I laugh. Tinu shrugs. Just then, I sight someone from afar, stretching her neck over some girls in a queue: Aliyah.

It’s almost a week since we talked. Did she notice?

“Okay, let’s go,” Briana says, “before someone finishes all her snacks and then comes back to beg for our own.”

Tinu shrugs, as usual, and I smile, and I don’t bother looking at Aliyah again.

***

I run fast. I didn’t know time has gone like this. Malam Mustapha will surely flog me today.

I don’t even bother to knock, I just open the door and run inside. Mommy will complain. But then I stop. The sitting room is dark. That means mommy isn’t around, but why is the door open?

Someone coughs. I turn. “Hello?” Nobody answers. “Who’s there?” I want to go and turn on the light, but I can’t move, and I don’t know why.