Tears of Zubaida.

•••••TEARS OF ZUBAIDA••••• •••Chapter four•••

Getting annoyed by the blaring honk she had been hearing for like three minutes ago, she draped a veil and went out to see who was behind that.

She peeped her head outside and noticed a black Peugeot parked by the left wall of the house facade. She couldn't see whom was in the car because of the tint.
She let out a frustrating hiss and turned on her heels to walk inside when the door of the car was opened and a muscular figure came in view.

The person walked towards her direction which made her take two feet backwards.
She examined the person whom was dressed in a blue jeans and a black polo shirt, with a p-cap and a black shades which complimented his brown melanin.

"Excuse me miss, is this Musa's house?" The guy asked pointing at the house.

"Zubaida is the name." She said fiddling with her fingers.

"Ohh, I'm sorry. Am Mu'az Ibrahim. Is this the house?"

"Hmm, Mu'azu ko?" Zubaida said raising her head up to look at him.

"Its Mu'az not Mu'azu." He said removing his shades and quickly squinted his eyes. "Its sunny out here." He mused.

"Whatever, and also its Malam Musa not Musa. Show some respect."

"Oh really? Ai ban sani ba ne." Mu'az said raising his left brow.

"Oho dai. He isn't around, now go back to your car and stop honking, you're disturbing me." Zubaida said and walked away.

Mu'az stared at the metal door of the house and nodded his head in annoyance. He walked into his car and began pressing the horn button continuously to provoke Zubaida even more.

She kept the Hausa novel she was reading and walked out of the house picking a stone, she went to the car and threw the stone at passengers' window making the glass shatter and some broken pieces landed on Mu'az.

Out of annoyance, Mu'az opened the door and saw Zubaida leaning against the wall. He walked towards her direction and without a second thought, he landed a slap on her left cheek. She placed her left palm comforting the cheek when he landed another slap on her right cheek.

A tear escaped her right eye which she quickly wiped away and turned to walk when he grabbed her hand making her turn and pinned her to the wall.

"Not even your father Musa can afford the money to replace the window. And you must pay for what you did." Mu'az said releasing his hold off Zubaida, he entered his car and drove away.

"Zainaba, while I was out today; did someone came looking for me?" Malam Musa asked his wife.

Zubaida that was in the kitchen adding onions to the spaghetti she's preparing for dinner, heard her father's query and her heart began beating at a fast rate.

"I don't know if someone came looking for you; but, let me ask Zubaida." Zainaba said.

"Its alright, let me get going." Malam Musa said and exited the house to the mosque.

He knocked on the door and waited till he was permitted to enter.

"Salamu Alaikum." He chanted and entered the living room where he met his father seated on the sofa watching the nine o'clock news.

"Wa'alaikumus Salam. Come sit here Mu'az." His father Alh. Ibrahim said patting the space next to him.

Mu'az did as his father instructed and sat next to him.

"You want some?" His father asked passing a plate containing some dates in it.

Mu'az nodded his head and took a date from the saucer.

"What happened to your car?" Alh. Ibrahim asked biting the date.

"A stone was thrown at the window." Mu'az replied.

"Were you into a fight?" His father asked.

Mu'az took a deep breath and exhaled it out before he replied the query.

"No I wasn't into a fight. A lady threw it towards the window."

"Where? And why didn't you take it to the garage for repair?"

"The daughter of whom you sent me to. I was tired when I came, so I decided to leave it until tomorrow and it was Maghreb when I came back." Mu'az answered carefully selecting his words.

"That reminds me; did you meet him?"  Alh. Ibrahim asked.

"No, I didn't."

"And, what of the message?" His father asked again.

"I didn't give him..."

"And why?"

"He wasn't around." Mu'az replied.

"That's not an excuse, you're going back tomorrow and make sure you give him, if he isn't around; give his wife to keep it for him." Alh. Ibrahim concluded.

Mu'az nodded his head and waited for his father to dismiss him before he leaves.

"I know you're bored with the news, you may leave." His father said with a chuckle."

"You again?" Mu'az said.

"Ask me again." Zubaida said shifting out of his way.
Mu'az blocked her way closing the gap between them.

"Is Musa around?" He asked his breath fanning her face.

Zubaida scrunched her face and took a step backwards muttering something under her breath.

"If you ever address my father without respect again, you will regret ever knowing him." Zubaida said pointing her index finger at him.

"Oh really! What can you do?" Mu'az asked place his arms at his midriff.
"In fact, an ce Musa din what can you do?!"

Zubaida didn't hesitate to muster all her energy and slapped his cheek, though she had to balance on her feet to reach his height.

"This is for slapping me yesterday."

Mu'az clenched his fist and wanted to land it on her jaw when Sule came out of nowhere and held his arm midway.

"If you dare touch her, you won't like your reflection in the mirror." Sule said in a harsh tone.
He turned and looked at Zubaida whose expression was neutral. She wasn't shocked nor surprised to see Sule.
Within a blink of an eye, some children had gathered to watch the scenario about to unfold.
"Zubaida, you can go. Let me deal with this scoundrel."

Zubaida mentally thanked Sule for being her saviour. She wouldn't have known what will had happened to her if he didn't show up. Turning on her heels, she saw her father Malam Musa with his eyes raging with anger.

"Baba, I can explain..." Zubaida started but was cut off by her father.

"Keep shut and go to school." He turned to Sule and said "Sule, let him be, he's my guest."

Glossary.

Mu'azu ko? ... Mu'azu right?

Ai ban sani ba ne ... I don't know.

Oho dai ... Whatever.

Salamu Alaikum ... Peace be upon you.

Wa'alaikumus Salam ... And peace be unto you too.

An ce Musa din ... I've said Musa.

Baba ... Father.

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Thank you🙏.