Calmly, I greeted my Daddy as I entered his room. The room was neatly laid with a soft Indian carpet, the color and arrangement of the furniture giving it a soothing liver-like tone. Gently, I sat beside him, watching how skillfully he worked on his laptop. Seeing that he had no intention of turning his attention to me, I smiled faintly because I knew Daddy’s nature — once he was focused on work, no one could distract him, not even me, his favorite daughter.
I picked up the remote and changed the TV channel from sports to Zee World. It was only then I remembered my favorite series, Love Looks Like What You Made Me Do, was showing. I smiled and said softly, “Woah, I even forgot about this show.” Daddy glanced briefly at me and then returned to his laptop. Before long, the show ended, and adverts began, but Daddy was still engrossed in his work.
Sleepiness soon crept in. I yawned, grabbed the remote, and switched back to the sports channel before standing up to leave. Just then, Daddy closed his laptop and looked at me with affection. “Uwata, how are you?” That was his special name for me — Uwata — because it was also my mother’s name. Mommy and others called me Ummi, but Daddy preferred Uwata.
Pouting slightly, I replied, “I’m sleepy… goodnight!” He chuckled, held my hand, and pulled me back to sit beside him. Gently pinching my cheek, he said, “Ohhh I’m so sorry, princess. Did I keep you waiting? I was just sending some important information. Forgive me, please. Tomorrow, we’ll go for ice cream, me and my princess, okay?”
I turned my head away, pretending to ignore him. He softly turned my face back toward him. “Hey, I’m trying to make it up to you. Aren’t we good now?” I couldn’t help but smile at his funny expression. I love my dad deeply — more than words could describe — maybe even more than my mom loved me. His affection always felt special. Maybe because I’m their only child?
Smiling, I said, “Okay, I forgive you. But we’ll also go shopping, agreed?” He nodded. I stood up, “Goodnight, Daddy.”
“Sleep well, Uwata,” he said with a warm smile.
As I entered the main parlor, I met Mommy looking all dressed up and elegant, probably going out. She smelled so nice. I hugged her, “Mommy, goodnight.”
She patted my back. “Okay, sweet dreams, baby.”
In my room, I turned on the light, undressed piece by piece, wrapped a towel around myself, and entered my bathroom. I filled the bathtub with warm water and soaked for a few minutes before coming out. After freshening up, I wore light sleepwear, gathered my dirty clothes into the laundry basket, and jumped playfully onto my big bed. I unplugged my phone, turned on data, and started chatting with my friends on social media.
It was around midnight before sleep finally took over. But not long after, I felt my breath tightening. My nightwear felt like it was choking me. Panicking, I sat up, pulled it off completely, and threw it aside before lying down again. Honestly, I only wore clothes to sleep because Mommy would scold me if I didn’t. I usually slept without one because I always felt like the fabric suffocated me. I didn’t know if it was a habit or something else — and honestly, I didn’t care.
Morning and School Preparations
The call for the early morning prayer echoed from the mosque beside our house. I groaned softly, my eyes heavy with sleep. It took me almost five minutes before I could sit up. My hair was scattered across my face; I gathered it to the back, and the gentle breeze reminded me that I wasn’t wearing a top. Quickly, I jumped out of bed and put my nightwear back on. Just then, Mommy peeked into my room, saw me standing, and quietly closed the door without saying a word. I sighed in relief — thank God she didn’t catch me half-naked.
I headed to the bathroom, performed ablution, and prayed. After finishing my prayers and morning recitation, I went to greet Daddy, then entered the kitchen. Mommy and Mama Sauda were busy preparing breakfast. I greeted them and joined in helping.
Afterward, I returned to my room, took my bath again, and spent time doing my makeup carefully, applying various cosmetics like someone going for a ceremony. When I was satisfied, I opened my wardrobe, filled with clothes like it belonged to five people. My eyes landed on a beautiful coffee-colored cote d’ivoire fabric with peach and yellow patterns — a skirt and blouse design. The skirt was pencil-style, while the top was fitted and flared slightly below the chest.
After dressing, I tied a simple headscarf and picked a peach-colored shawl with a small Vincci handbag and matching coffee heels.
In the dining room, Daddy and Mommy were already having breakfast. They both stared at me, surprised by how dressed up I looked. I sat beside Daddy and said, “I’m going to school to collect my IT letter.”
Daddy nodded while sipping his millet porridge (kunun gyada). I poured mine, added milk, and drank slowly. After breakfast, I picked up my bag and scarf. “Mom, Dad, I’m leaving.”
Mom said, “God protect you,” and Daddy asked, “Should I send the driver with you? You won’t be long, right?”
I shook my head. “No, Daddy, I’ll just take the bus.”
He nodded again. “Money?”
“I’ve got enough with me.”
“Okay, take care, baby.”
Smiling, I walked out of the house feeling deeply grateful for parents like mine — caring, supportive, and full of love.
Description
Evening with Daddy
Calmly, I greeted my Daddy as I entered his room. The room was neatly laid with a soft Indian carpet, the color and arrangement of the furniture giving it a soothing liver-like tone. Gently, I sat beside him, watching how skillfully he worked on his laptop. Seeing that he had no intention of turning his attention to me, I smiled faintly because I knew Daddy’s nature — once he was focused on work, no one could distract him, not even me, his favorite daughter.
I picked up the remote and changed the TV channel from sports to Zee World. It was only then I remembered my favorite series, Love Looks Like What You Made Me Do, was showing. I smiled and said softly, “Woah, I even forgot about this show.” Daddy glanced briefly at me and then returned to his laptop. Before long, the show ended, and adverts began, but Daddy was still engrossed in his work.
Sleepiness soon crept in. I yawned, grabbed the remote, and switched back to the sports channel before standing up to leave. Just then, Daddy closed his laptop and looked at me with affection. “Uwata, how are you?” That was his special name for me — Uwata — because it was also my mother’s name. Mommy and others called me Ummi, but Daddy preferred Uwata.
Pouting slightly, I replied, “I’m sleepy… goodnight!” He chuckled, held my hand, and pulled me back to sit beside him. Gently pinching my cheek, he said, “Ohhh I’m so sorry, princess. Did I keep you waiting? I was just sending some important information. Forgive me, please. Tomorrow, we’ll go for ice cream, me and my princess, okay?”
I turned my head away, pretending to ignore him. He softly turned my face back toward him. “Hey, I’m trying to make it up to you. Aren’t we good now?” I couldn’t help but smile at his funny expression. I love my dad deeply — more than words could describe — maybe even more than my mom loved me. His affection always felt special. Maybe because I’m their only child?
Smiling, I said, “Okay, I forgive you. But we’ll also go shopping, agreed?” He nodded. I stood up, “Goodnight, Daddy.”
“Sleep well, Uwata,” he said with a warm smile.
As I entered the main parlor, I met Mommy looking all dressed up and elegant, probably going out. She smelled so nice. I hugged her, “Mommy, goodnight.”
She patted my back. “Okay, sweet dreams, baby.”
In my room, I turned on the light, undressed piece by piece, wrapped a towel around myself, and entered my bathroom. I filled the bathtub with warm water and soaked for a few minutes before coming out. After freshening up, I wore light sleepwear, gathered my dirty clothes into the laundry basket, and jumped playfully onto my big bed. I unplugged my phone, turned on data, and started chatting with my friends on social media.
It was around midnight before sleep finally took over. But not long after, I felt my breath tightening. My nightwear felt like it was choking me. Panicking, I sat up, pulled it off completely, and threw it aside before lying down again. Honestly, I only wore clothes to sleep because Mommy would scold me if I didn’t. I usually slept without one because I always felt like the fabric suffocated me. I didn’t know if it was a habit or something else — and honestly, I didn’t care.
Morning and School Preparations
The call for the early morning prayer echoed from the mosque beside our house. I groaned softly, my eyes heavy with sleep. It took me almost five minutes before I could sit up. My hair was scattered across my face; I gathered it to the back, and the gentle breeze reminded me that I wasn’t wearing a top. Quickly, I jumped out of bed and put my nightwear back on. Just then, Mommy peeked into my room, saw me standing, and quietly closed the door without saying a word. I sighed in relief — thank God she didn’t catch me half-naked.
I headed to the bathroom, performed ablution, and prayed. After finishing my prayers and morning recitation, I went to greet Daddy, then entered the kitchen. Mommy and Mama Sauda were busy preparing breakfast. I greeted them and joined in helping.
Afterward, I returned to my room, took my bath again, and spent time doing my makeup carefully, applying various cosmetics like someone going for a ceremony. When I was satisfied, I opened my wardrobe, filled with clothes like it belonged to five people. My eyes landed on a beautiful coffee-colored cote d’ivoire fabric with peach and yellow patterns — a skirt and blouse design. The skirt was pencil-style, while the top was fitted and flared slightly below the chest.
After dressing, I tied a simple headscarf and picked a peach-colored shawl with a small Vincci handbag and matching coffee heels.
In the dining room, Daddy and Mommy were already having breakfast. They both stared at me, surprised by how dressed up I looked. I sat beside Daddy and said, “I’m going to school to collect my IT letter.”
Daddy nodded while sipping his millet porridge (kunun gyada). I poured mine, added milk, and drank slowly. After breakfast, I picked up my bag and scarf. “Mom, Dad, I’m leaving.”
Mom said, “God protect you,” and Daddy asked, “Should I send the driver with you? You won’t be long, right?”
I shook my head. “No, Daddy, I’ll just take the bus.”
He nodded again. “Money?”
“I’ve got enough with me.”
“Okay, take care, baby.”
Smiling, I walked out of the house feeling deeply grateful for parents like mine — caring, supportive, and full of love.