RUWAIDA ✔️

CHAPTER TWELVE

Muhammad looked down, his sweaty hands entwined into each other while he stood by the doorstep, with Mal Mahmoud standing beside him, his hands crouched to his bosom.

His little hope had just been openly shattered; but mostly in a very polite way. He could tell Mr Moolah hadn't done that too make him feel down or bad about it, it is rather, just the way he thinks. He couldn't take help from Muhammad as much as that without him trying.

Yes, his daughter's life is of most importance, but then such is of his self dignity. The money for the treatment is far beyond that which he earns in years but, however it would be, he'll do his best to find a way out, which excludes the gentleman's suggestion.

He couldn't lean his back on the doctor and let him take responsibilities of his own daughter as if he were out of existence. It's important for him to get his daughter cured, with little help from around him. He had refused Muhammad of helping out because of many reasons, most of being a stranger to him. He knows him as a doctor and nothing else. He couldn't just take money from him because he's desperate.

So he wisely declined him, saying he'll try to arrange the money before the upcoming week. With a sad face, Muhammad left, also not giving up on the one thing he's come to find his happiness in. Just the mere thought of her condition had left him worried for days now. And by each passing day, he forebodes it slowly getting worst.

He cleared his thoughts as he again that month arranged to leave for Yamma. Placing the last set of clothes into his black traveling bag, he zipped it close and placed it down from his bed.

"Mama, I'll be leaving soon, I'll come back tomorrow evening InshaAllah, help arrange some things before I get back," he said to his stepmother, seeing the surprised look she'd on her face, probably wondering where he had intended going in such an impromptu manner.

"Where are you going Turaad? You told me not about this earlier, I hope all is well," she prayed, taking her eyes off the bag to look at him properly.

Not knowing how to start explaining things to her, he looked down at his blue sneakers and smiled while his left hand reached for his nape nervously. Things could get a little messed up if he says anything wrong, so he took his time in choosing exactly the words that wouldn't end up making her angry. Because he's almost wronged her.

"Mm...Mama, I'm going to Yamma to see Kawu Sani and Uncle Bashari, I think I've found a girl," he spoke, feeling slightly embarrassed. Mama smiled and dragged his hand, and only released him when she made him sit beside her on the sofa across the television.

"You've found a girl? So when did you intend on telling me," she asked, and even tho she'd looked quite unfazed, he could sense the hurt in her voice.

He rubbed his hands together and pushed his traveling bag from beside his legs, before slowly looking up at her. "Mm, Maaamaaa! I was just thinking maybe you wouldn't agree at first, I'm sorry,"

She cringed her brows, trying as much to look offended, but then, the excitement of having her son married wouldn't let her. "Ya salaam! Why wouldn't I? Of course I will...

"What's happening," came Zarah's sleepy voice as she descended down the stairs with her trencher in hand. She made her way sluggishly and sat beside Mama, and then turned to greet Muhammad with a small smile.

Mama smiled mischievously, placing her hand over Zarah's head as she rested on her lap. "Your brother just got himself a wife,"

Zarah hastily got up to sit upright, looking extremely gratified and then, slowly confused. "Wait, what?!,"

"Yes, you heard right, I just learnt about it too," Mama added enthusiastically. She couldn't contain her joy, especially seeing Muhammad nervously looking at his hands with a ghost smile. She could tell, he is also happy about his decision. And she hopes the girl good for him and all around him.

"Ya Turaad, are you serious," she asked now, looking directly at him. He gave her a small nod, stretching out his hand and taking the bag from beside him. "Do I know her," she whispered, ignoring the questioning stare Mama sent towards her. She felt a little bad that he'll end up marrying someone else, after all the hopes she'd raised in Ruwaida.

"Oh yes you do, very much," he replied and walked out, waiting not to see her reaction. He wouldn't want his ears damaged with Zarah's screeches before the Emam declares her his.

He placed the bag in the backseat and walked to sit himself in the driver's, and within seconds honked and drove out of the house. By Asr, he had reached Yamma. One of the guards helped him with his bag while he rushed to join the congregational prayer which had already started, just a few walks from their family house.

After finally saying his silent duas, including getting his uncles to agree, he walked back to the big lodging. It was quiet due to most of the children been in school, so he went directly to see his mother's apartment and waited for her to also say her prayers, while he had the fruits Saude had brought him.

"Muhammadu barka dai! This snappy visit, I hope all is well," she asked, immediately he had offered to her, his greetings.

He smiled and placed down the fork he held, inching a bit forward to rest his back on the chair. "Ehh Ammi! How's everything here, I hope Inna doesn't trouble you much," he asked with a wide grin.

Mama let out a small laugh, before resting her hand on his shoulder with a smack. She was a big woman, with a pretty round face, and one could say she looked about Forty_five or so. In spite of her neutral face, she had a matching expensive well sworn clothes that made her look much younger. "Well," she trailed, raising her head up to glance at her son. From how he'd been acting, he must have something serious he want to discuss with her, but then, she didn't make any assumptions, waiting for him to finally prove her right.

"What is it that you want to say? I don't like you all nervous, the extreme doctor face looks much better on you Muhammadu," she added teasingly, watching as he gently placed a slab of Pineapple into his mouth, probably a way to hide the mysterious smile he had all through.

Ultimately gathering every inch of the courage in him, he decided to speak. "Ammi, I've found a girl...mm I'll like to marry her,"

Her joy knew no bounds as she threw her hands up, using all the names of Allah in glory. "Ohhhh! Alhamdulillah! I'm so happy Allahu Akbar (all praises be to Allah) Whose daughter is she,"

The question dragged him back like a string, and he felt his body grow cold. He knew something like that will happen, but he didn't know how soon it would be. "Er Ammi, they live in jamaii, just three streets from our hospital," he uttered, hoping his reply had answered her question but he knew deep down, it didn't.

"Jamaii? I don't understand, why will her father take a house in such an area, or is it perhaps closer to his place of work," she asked again.

"Oh! Yes Ammi, his shop is not very far...

She immediately stopped him with a grim expression. "Tsaya Muhammadu, what are you saying? Shop? Where does he work,"

Muhammad looked down at the tray in front of him. "He's a tailor Ammi, his daughter is very responsible I'm sure you'll like h...,"

"Yimin shiru Turaad! You wouldn't marry such a girl! Not when I'm alive, tabdi jam! Kasake tunani dan I'll not get you married to such a girl! I've said my own," she yelled and walked out of the exquisite living room. She ignored his excessive groping of her name as he followed her behind, till she'd shut the door right on his face.

Never! He son will not marry from a poor family!

Love_
Silentwriter ☕️