Can You Trust Me Again?

2

AT dawn, I watched Luqman through my window as he closed the house gate; undoubtedly he had left to the masjid. 

I was curious to know the house schedules, therefore I walked upstairs to greet Maimuna and talk to her about that. 

I knocked several times and there was nothing but silence. At last, I gently pushed open the door and had found her laying on the master bed, deeply asleep. 

My eyes observed the spacy room, not failing to notice the arabic calligraphy neatly hung above the entrance, and lovely vases placed at corners of the room. 

However, the flowers were fake. 

I detested fake flowers. 

Could one not get a real flower and take the responsibility of watering them daily? 

For this reason, I made up my mind to rid the fake flowers and replace them with real ones when the right time came. For now, I was still new to this very surroundings and they hadn't gotten well acquainted with me. 

          Luqman hadn't come home until when breakfast was ready. It was around 8 in the morning and I had settled the table with cutlery, waiting for the young madam to carry on with the serving. She had walked up to us in her grey pyjamas, eyes showed she was freshly awake. 

I noticed the young man's eyes twinkle with affection towards her, and he motioned her to sit next to him. 

From the side of my eyes, I noticed as he gently fed her the rice I skillfully cooked half an hour ago and she shyly chewed: the atmosphere was conducive for both of them. 

I took my leave. 

I remained in the backyard for nearly an hour, overseeing the house's setup.

It was a 4 bedroom bungalow: one of the rooms which was mine, the couple shared one and the rest of the two for their planned offsprings. 

The son of my madam had grown into a lovely gentleman. I must mention: the last time we had met was when he was a teen, preparing to leave for China to begin his bachelor's degree. I am unsure if he recalls me, however I very much do. 

He was a jovial, yet calm and reserved boy-- I would even term him an introvert. He remained his mother's gold and companion, as my madam had lived a lone life, since the conjugation of her husband to a woman named Mufeedah. 

       

 The pair became familiar with me over the course of a few days. Now I was fully certain, he had forgotten about me from the past. It seemed he believed this was our first meeting. 

I learned that my madam's son was 7 years older than the wife. She was 23, and a final year student at University of Maiduguri. She was soon to be a biochemist. 

She was the only female child of her parents and had lost her father a year before her wedding to Luqman. Young madam was a spoilt kid, a damsel among 2 male siblings. 

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Unknown to them, I had reunited with ma'Zulaihat 7 years ago; at the airport, aiming to land in Makkah. We had adventured the city of Madinah and Makkah together and when we returned, stayed in touch. 

The lady I once knew as vivacious and feisty was now frail and reclusive. She told that she was now like that because the world had humbled her. I was curious as to what bitter event had changed and gunned down her once unsettling and unyielding worldview.

I progressively learned that her world had indeed altered since her spouse, the renowned and influential founder of 'Ishak Holdings,' had privileged ma'Mufeedah instead; by appointing her as vice-president for one of Nigeria's leading organizations.

It shocked us.

However, nature had planned it like that and we are only to be grateful. 

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On the 3rd week of my presence, a man drove into the house compound.

Have I failed to mention the presence of Ladi the 14 year old maid?  

-I think yes, 

Ladi had welcomed him in and I was at the dining, setting cutlery for dinner with Maimuna. 

The man identified as Tahir, and Maimuna had told me he was Luqman's close friend.

They were seated comfortably, enjoying the cold breeze the Air-conditioner was providing, sipping cans of sodas, goofing around. 

I was seated on the mat far away, and I looked to be engrossed in writing my journal. 

The young men did not mind me much, which I loved, as that portrayed the trust they felt when I was around. 

My cell-phone beeped: A timer I set for the washing machine. 

I emptied the machine and this was an excuse for me to visit Maimuna upstairs, and query if there was more laundry. It appeared that was what I intended to do. 

However, 

I was curious to get an insight on what exactly she did when bored or when less busy. 

When her spouse was having a time with his buddies. 

I was curious to know why ma'Zulaihat had called on me to live here. 

However, Maimuna was studying on her bed, the least I expected to see. 

I had thought she would be on a call with her mother to complain about being here with her spouse; not because she hated him, nor that she suffered, but because that was what I expected from a spoilt lady like her. 

I got back to doing more machine operation. 

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