The entire neighborhood was silent because it was a distribution day, so everyone was indoors. It was an area of wealthy people; mostly the rich lived there, and the houses were luxurious.
I spotted a very large house—beautiful, well-arranged, and surprisingly big. Even the gate alone could take more than fifteen cars.
There was another house nearby, equally beautiful with its own gate. But there was also a door inside that allowed someone from one house to enter the other without going around. Everything inside was well-structured and organized.
She was sitting, washing clothes and hissing repeatedly. Inna, who sat chewing kolanut, said,
“Since someone’s father told you to wash, you’ve sat there hissing at people. Useless work! Rubbish!”
Aira, who was already full of stubbornness, turned and said,
“You, Inna, what’s your business with me? You just like looking for trouble. Once someone talks to you, you’ll say they insulted you. Go and tell Abba anything you like. Just leave me; I’m tired already.”
Inna snapped back,
“What’s my business? Child of nonsense! Looking like a spirit—always fidgeting like a chicken but full of bad luck and pregnancy.”
Aira hissed, dropped the clothes, stood up, and began packing her washing items.
She said, “You’re already close to death so we can rest.”
In anger, Inna grabbed a pillow beside her and threw it at her.
“Your mother will die, not me! Rahama will die, useless child!”
Aira laughed and ran out, knowing she had touched Inna’s weak point—nothing annoyed her more than being told she would die.
As she stepped out laughing, I finally took a proper look at her.
She was light-skinned, almost yellowish, tall and slender but not too slim—her height made her look slimmer than she was. She had a very nice shape, especially her hips; whenever she walked they swayed. You could call her a Coca-Cola-shaped girl.
Her chest wasn’t big, but she wasn’t flat either.
She had a slightly long face, a pointed nose, and a small mouth that suited her beauty. Her lips were naturally reddish as if she applied lipstick.
She wore English clothes—shirt and trousers—no headscarf.
Her black hair was packed neatly and reached down to her back. She was extremely beautiful, the type that could grace the front page of a magazine.
But from her face alone, you would know she was still very young, maybe not more than seventeen years old.
She entered their house through the other gate. Inside, she saw Abba sitting on a white chair, wearing glasses, reading a newspaper. She walked straight to him smiling.
“Abba, good afternoon.”
With a mature, calm voice, he looked up, smiled, and said, “Welcome, daughter of Inna.”
Then he returned to his reading.
When I looked closely, she resembled him a lot, except she had inherited more brightness than him.
Inside the parlour, her siblings were sitting. The children were preparing for Tahfiz while the adults were chatting.
As she entered, Mamy said,
“Good you’re here. I was just about to ask them to call you so you can get ready for Tahfiz.”
Mamy was also fair like Aira, but Aira looked more like her father.
She pushed her lips forward and said,
“Ah, this is nonsense. I’m tired. I just got back from school, and besides, we’re preparing for WAEC. I’ve taken a break from this Tahfiz until after exams.”
Mamy gasped.
“You dare not! Either you get up and prepare, or I’m calling your father right now.”
Her eyes widened—there was nobody she feared like Abba. He did not joke with education, especially Arabic studies.
Mama joined, “Hurry up. Your siblings are ready. Education is not something to play with these days. And you’re already advancing, almost completing Hizf Arba’in. It’s better you continue.”
Aira sighed. “Fine, I will go and dress up. But I won’t return until I disturb Inna first.”
She ran off laughing.
Mama smiled. “You and Inna—if it was me you provoked, I’d have chased you already.”
In her room, she found her sisters already dressed.
“Sister, please lend me your clothes to wear,” she said while putting on her hijab.
Her sister replied angrily, “Where are your own? Why should you borrow mine every time?”
Another sister, Ummy, who was busy chatting, scoffed,
“You’re lucky it’s her. If it were me, I would let you die first before lending you anything. Even though you’re our younger sister, you disrespect us too much.”
Aira hissed.
“What’s your business? You’re poking your nose where it doesn’t concern you. Don’t interfere in what’s between me and her.”
She took the clothes anyway and wore them.
Ummy muttered, “Exactly, she has no shame.”
But she went quiet—she knew arguing with Aira would only lead to insults.
Later at night, after they returned, Aira entered Inna’s room. Inna began scolding her again.
Aira ignored her until it became too much. Then she stood up, went to her bedroom, and brought two big chocolates.
She handed them to Inna and said, “If you want these, you must stop all this scolding.”
Immediately, Inna’s face softened.
“Ah, my darling child! I knew we had foreign honey in this house.”
Aira laughed and gave her the chocolates.
“That’s why I don’t give you anything—you talk too much.”
Inna grinned widely, opened one, and began eating, almost closing her eyes in pleasure.
Aira spoke in a low voice,
“My dear Inna, may God grant you long life like the date palm. You will outlive everyone. Now please, can you lend me your phone? I’ll return it soon.”
“Ah, may God bless you! Among all Habubakar’s children, you’re the best. They all take after him, but you alone inherited good character,” Inna said as she handed over her phone.
Aira only laughed at the praise—just minutes ago, Inna had been insulting her. She knew once she brought chocolate, everything calmed down.
She went to her room, lay on her bed hugging a pillow, and dialed a number she had been thinking about.
It kept saying switched off. She tried again and again—ten times. Same result.
Tears filled her eyes.
“Yaya, where are you? Since yesterday your phone is off. I’m worried… I hope nothing bad happened to you.”
She cried for a long time, calling repeatedly. She had never gone a full day without hearing from him.
Eventually, around 1 a.m., she fell asleep.
The next morning, she woke up quiet
ly, her mind unsettled.
She went to school and wrote her exams, but her thoughts were far away.
Description
The Quiet Neighborhood
The entire neighborhood was silent because it was a distribution day, so everyone was indoors. It was an area of wealthy people; mostly the rich lived there, and the houses were luxurious.
I spotted a very large house—beautiful, well-arranged, and surprisingly big. Even the gate alone could take more than fifteen cars.
There was another house nearby, equally beautiful with its own gate. But there was also a door inside that allowed someone from one house to enter the other without going around. Everything inside was well-structured and organized.
She was sitting, washing clothes and hissing repeatedly. Inna, who sat chewing kolanut, said,
“Since someone’s father told you to wash, you’ve sat there hissing at people. Useless work! Rubbish!”
Aira, who was already full of stubbornness, turned and said,
“You, Inna, what’s your business with me? You just like looking for trouble. Once someone talks to you, you’ll say they insulted you. Go and tell Abba anything you like. Just leave me; I’m tired already.”
Inna snapped back,
“What’s my business? Child of nonsense! Looking like a spirit—always fidgeting like a chicken but full of bad luck and pregnancy.”
Aira hissed, dropped the clothes, stood up, and began packing her washing items.
She said, “You’re already close to death so we can rest.”
In anger, Inna grabbed a pillow beside her and threw it at her.
“Your mother will die, not me! Rahama will die, useless child!”
Aira laughed and ran out, knowing she had touched Inna’s weak point—nothing annoyed her more than being told she would die.
As she stepped out laughing, I finally took a proper look at her.
She was light-skinned, almost yellowish, tall and slender but not too slim—her height made her look slimmer than she was. She had a very nice shape, especially her hips; whenever she walked they swayed. You could call her a Coca-Cola-shaped girl.
Her chest wasn’t big, but she wasn’t flat either.
She had a slightly long face, a pointed nose, and a small mouth that suited her beauty. Her lips were naturally reddish as if she applied lipstick.
She wore English clothes—shirt and trousers—no headscarf.
Her black hair was packed neatly and reached down to her back. She was extremely beautiful, the type that could grace the front page of a magazine.
But from her face alone, you would know she was still very young, maybe not more than seventeen years old.
She entered their house through the other gate. Inside, she saw Abba sitting on a white chair, wearing glasses, reading a newspaper. She walked straight to him smiling.
“Abba, good afternoon.”
With a mature, calm voice, he looked up, smiled, and said, “Welcome, daughter of Inna.”
Then he returned to his reading.
When I looked closely, she resembled him a lot, except she had inherited more brightness than him.
Inside the parlour, her siblings were sitting. The children were preparing for Tahfiz while the adults were chatting.
As she entered, Mamy said,
“Good you’re here. I was just about to ask them to call you so you can get ready for Tahfiz.”
Mamy was also fair like Aira, but Aira looked more like her father.
She pushed her lips forward and said,
“Ah, this is nonsense. I’m tired. I just got back from school, and besides, we’re preparing for WAEC. I’ve taken a break from this Tahfiz until after exams.”
Mamy gasped.
“You dare not! Either you get up and prepare, or I’m calling your father right now.”
Her eyes widened—there was nobody she feared like Abba. He did not joke with education, especially Arabic studies.
Mama joined, “Hurry up. Your siblings are ready. Education is not something to play with these days. And you’re already advancing, almost completing Hizf Arba’in. It’s better you continue.”
Aira sighed. “Fine, I will go and dress up. But I won’t return until I disturb Inna first.”
She ran off laughing.
Mama smiled. “You and Inna—if it was me you provoked, I’d have chased you already.”
In her room, she found her sisters already dressed.
“Sister, please lend me your clothes to wear,” she said while putting on her hijab.
Her sister replied angrily, “Where are your own? Why should you borrow mine every time?”
Another sister, Ummy, who was busy chatting, scoffed,
“You’re lucky it’s her. If it were me, I would let you die first before lending you anything. Even though you’re our younger sister, you disrespect us too much.”
Aira hissed.
“What’s your business? You’re poking your nose where it doesn’t concern you. Don’t interfere in what’s between me and her.”
She took the clothes anyway and wore them.
Ummy muttered, “Exactly, she has no shame.”
But she went quiet—she knew arguing with Aira would only lead to insults.
Later at night, after they returned, Aira entered Inna’s room. Inna began scolding her again.
Aira ignored her until it became too much. Then she stood up, went to her bedroom, and brought two big chocolates.
She handed them to Inna and said, “If you want these, you must stop all this scolding.”
Immediately, Inna’s face softened.
“Ah, my darling child! I knew we had foreign honey in this house.”
Aira laughed and gave her the chocolates.
“That’s why I don’t give you anything—you talk too much.”
Inna grinned widely, opened one, and began eating, almost closing her eyes in pleasure.
Aira spoke in a low voice,
“My dear Inna, may God grant you long life like the date palm. You will outlive everyone. Now please, can you lend me your phone? I’ll return it soon.”
“Ah, may God bless you! Among all Habubakar’s children, you’re the best. They all take after him, but you alone inherited good character,” Inna said as she handed over her phone.
Aira only laughed at the praise—just minutes ago, Inna had been insulting her. She knew once she brought chocolate, everything calmed down.
She went to her room, lay on her bed hugging a pillow, and dialed a number she had been thinking about.
It kept saying switched off. She tried again and again—ten times. Same result.
Tears filled her eyes.
“Yaya, where are you? Since yesterday your phone is off. I’m worried… I hope nothing bad happened to you.”
She cried for a long time, calling repeatedly. She had never gone a full day without hearing from him.
Eventually, around 1 a.m., she fell asleep.
The next morning, she woke up quiet
ly, her mind unsettled.
She went to school and wrote her exams, but her thoughts were far away.