Despite the lack of sleep she had the entire night, that did not stop her from bathing at seven in the morning. She prayed, tidied herself, and when she came to choose clothes, she could not decide what to wear. Then she remembered Inna’s words from yesterday, advising her to dress up in atamfa.
Her eyes were heavy and reddish with sleep deprivation, for sleep debt is never forgiven without consequences. On that same day, she had a test, yet she hadn’t even read the alphabet “Alif.” Fortunately, it was a practical test.
By ten in the morning, they finished, and she headed home. From the Informatics Institute to her house wasn’t far, and she usually walked. She wore an exclusive white atamfa with blue and brown stripes, and a large brown headscarf that made her look like a complete Nigerian woman.
Seeing their car confirmed to her that they had arrived home. She slowed down, overwhelmed by thoughts—how could she face Daddy today, knowing that Ibrahim, his son, was acting in such disturbing ways toward her? That constant kissing around her was tormenting her deeply. It wasn’t just Daddy—she couldn’t even look Ibrahim in the eye. She dragged her weak feet slowly until she reached the entrance, but couldn’t press the bell. Instead, she sat on the edge of the flower bed, chewing on her headscarf with her white teeth.
After about twenty minutes, Inna came out carrying a large bag to put in the car. Rayhanah’s heart raced—was Ibrahim truly going to separate from her and leave for Singapore? After one and a half years of dedication, struggle, and effort?
Inna noticed her and exclaimed with shock:
“So you’ve been sitting here since? Rahane, when will you stop this village-like behavior? Even I, an old woman, would never treat my husband the way you treat Ibraheem. Ibrahim! Come out and take her inside… since she can’t even walk in herself.”
Hearing that, Rayhanah quickly rushed inside. Her eyes immediately met Ibraheem’s calm, sleepy gaze as he reclined on the sofa, feet stretched across a glass table. He wore blue Tommy Hilfiger trousers with gray stripes and matching gray socks. He looked at her for two full minutes before returning to his newspaper. She went behind the curtain to greet Baba Doctor, but he hardly noticed.
Ibraheem, cheerful and at ease, joked,
“Today Inna is off to Chicago, Inna to Takai!”
Startled, she widened her eyes. He laughed, shaking his head.
“Rayhanah, come here, or I’ll get angry at Ibraheem for bringing you. Since his arrival, I’ve seen nothing but the whites of your frightened eyes. Come sit.”
Hesitantly, she crawled near and sat beside him. He asked:
“When will you finish your tests and start your exams?”
Softly, she replied:
“We’re done with tests… exams start April 1st.”
“Masha Allah,” he said. “We’ll go home first. Inna will visit relatives in Albasu, then return to your house before you do. As for Chicago, Ibrahim has completed everything and will return for good. Before that, we’ll decide about your schooling. Of course, you’ll accompany him, won’t you?”
Her eyes filled with tears as she whispered firmly, “No.”
Even Inna was displeased at her response, let alone Ibraheem. Dr. smiled and asked, “Why?”
Without looking at Ibraheem, though she felt his eyes burning into her, she calmly said:
“I prefer to finish my education entirely and then go home for good. I love Daddy’s dream of my studies, I’ve suffered for it, and I’ve already drawn so much strength from it.”
Inna, frustrated, snapped:
“So you’ll marry education alone? I won’t! I’m tired of living among people who don’t even pray, who only check the clock. And now you’re saying no to your father’s command?!”
Her anger grew, ranting nonstop until Rahane broke into tears. Daddy intervened:
“Inna, be patient—she has her own truth.”
“What truth? Education above marriage? Not with me. I’m leaving. I won’t spend another day here.”
She stormed out. Ibrahim, after setting down his newspaper, went into Rayhanah’s room to pack some of her things. By 1:00 PM, they were to fly to Chicago with American Airlines from Changi Airport, while Inna and Baba Doctor would return to Nigeria.
Daddy comforted her gently:
“Understand, Rayhanatu, marriage comes before everything. This schooling is only to fill the emptiness until Allah brings your husband. Now that he is here, your life belongs with him. Would it make sense for you to be in one country while your husband is in another? No.”
She shook her head, wiping tears, her body trembling. He continued:
“Think of it—Allah has blessed you. If you calm down, He’ll find you schooling wherever you go. Ibraheem is a good man. I’m not praising him without reason—you’ll see one day yourself. He’ll be there for you, and with your children.”
She hid her face in her scarf, smiling faintly. Just then, Ibraheem entered with her heavy trolley, leaving behind excess items he couldn’t carry.
By 11:30 AM, they locked the house, returned the keys to the landlord, who refunded the remaining rent. At 12:30, they were at screening. By 1:00 PM, the American Airlines flight took off, the plane roaring across the runway.
Rayhanah wiped tears as she watched Singapore’s skyscrapers shrinking in the distance. She whispered to herself:
“Bye-bye Singapore… Bye-bye Informatics!”
By 2:00 PM, Daddy and the rest were also airborne with KLM to Nigeria after a transit in India.
Rayhanah in Chicago
When they landed in Chicago, it was raining heavily. Yet, no words passed between Ibraheem and Rayhanah. Her heart was still wounded—this sudden cut-off from her studies that she had fought so hard for, her only dream in life.
She remembered her father’s words daily: “You are nobody’s daughter, except the daughter of a poor man. Stand firm, don’t overreach.” That’s why education was her only ambition. She longed for deep knowledge, to one day benefit from it.
But her heart had not yet accepted Ibraheem as her husband, nor as a man she could ever love. In her eyes, he was far beyond her reach. She had tried to forget Yaya Khalipha, but she couldn’t replace him with Ibraheem.
Still in shock, she followed Ibrahim as he unlocked a luxurious American villa. They had been brought there in a hospital car from Illinois, chauffeured in a vehicle far more luxurious than anything she had ridden in Singapore.
Though exhausted, she prayed before collapsing asleep on the sofa, still in her clothes. Ibrahim lingered, watching her curled up with only her thin scarf for warmth. Memories of twelve years ago flooded his mind—how devoted she once was, patient even with Abida’s harshness, obedient to Mami, beloved by Azizah.
He knew Mami had liked her, but why then had she opposed her marriage to Khalipha? His heart whispered the answer: because destiny decreed otherwise. Every marriage is written in the Lauh al-Mahfuz before birth.
Khalipha was handsome, radiant. But why did he want Rayhanah, who wasn’t exceptionally beautiful? Few men recognized her true worth—except doctors, who understood the value of every part of a human being.
He had once struggled to forget her, fighting his emotions, convincing himself it was just pity. What did she have that was worth loving? Yet, by nature, he had always desired a woman like her—not overly beautiful, not light-skinned, not showy, not rich, but genuine.
He knew nobody finds 100% of their dream partner. To him, Rayhanah fulfilled about 80% of what he had longed for. And since Allah had written her as his wife, she was now with him—not by his own effort, but by destiny.
Reflection
Rayhanah’s new life in Chicago began under rainclouds and heavy thoughts. Her love for education clashed with destiny’s decree. Ibrahim, certain of fate, saw her as his destined companion. She, however, carried the pain of dreams cut short and the struggle of accepting a future she had not chosen.
Description
Struggles Before the Journey
Despite the lack of sleep she had the entire night, that did not stop her from bathing at seven in the morning. She prayed, tidied herself, and when she came to choose clothes, she could not decide what to wear. Then she remembered Inna’s words from yesterday, advising her to dress up in atamfa.
Her eyes were heavy and reddish with sleep deprivation, for sleep debt is never forgiven without consequences. On that same day, she had a test, yet she hadn’t even read the alphabet “Alif.” Fortunately, it was a practical test.
By ten in the morning, they finished, and she headed home. From the Informatics Institute to her house wasn’t far, and she usually walked. She wore an exclusive white atamfa with blue and brown stripes, and a large brown headscarf that made her look like a complete Nigerian woman.
Seeing their car confirmed to her that they had arrived home. She slowed down, overwhelmed by thoughts—how could she face Daddy today, knowing that Ibrahim, his son, was acting in such disturbing ways toward her? That constant kissing around her was tormenting her deeply. It wasn’t just Daddy—she couldn’t even look Ibrahim in the eye. She dragged her weak feet slowly until she reached the entrance, but couldn’t press the bell. Instead, she sat on the edge of the flower bed, chewing on her headscarf with her white teeth.
After about twenty minutes, Inna came out carrying a large bag to put in the car. Rayhanah’s heart raced—was Ibrahim truly going to separate from her and leave for Singapore? After one and a half years of dedication, struggle, and effort?
Inna noticed her and exclaimed with shock:
“So you’ve been sitting here since? Rahane, when will you stop this village-like behavior? Even I, an old woman, would never treat my husband the way you treat Ibraheem. Ibrahim! Come out and take her inside… since she can’t even walk in herself.”
Hearing that, Rayhanah quickly rushed inside. Her eyes immediately met Ibraheem’s calm, sleepy gaze as he reclined on the sofa, feet stretched across a glass table. He wore blue Tommy Hilfiger trousers with gray stripes and matching gray socks. He looked at her for two full minutes before returning to his newspaper. She went behind the curtain to greet Baba Doctor, but he hardly noticed.
Ibraheem, cheerful and at ease, joked,
“Today Inna is off to Chicago, Inna to Takai!”
Startled, she widened her eyes. He laughed, shaking his head.
“Rayhanah, come here, or I’ll get angry at Ibraheem for bringing you. Since his arrival, I’ve seen nothing but the whites of your frightened eyes. Come sit.”
Hesitantly, she crawled near and sat beside him. He asked:
“When will you finish your tests and start your exams?”
Softly, she replied:
“We’re done with tests… exams start April 1st.”
“Masha Allah,” he said. “We’ll go home first. Inna will visit relatives in Albasu, then return to your house before you do. As for Chicago, Ibrahim has completed everything and will return for good. Before that, we’ll decide about your schooling. Of course, you’ll accompany him, won’t you?”
Her eyes filled with tears as she whispered firmly, “No.”
Even Inna was displeased at her response, let alone Ibraheem. Dr. smiled and asked, “Why?”
Without looking at Ibraheem, though she felt his eyes burning into her, she calmly said:
“I prefer to finish my education entirely and then go home for good. I love Daddy’s dream of my studies, I’ve suffered for it, and I’ve already drawn so much strength from it.”
Inna, frustrated, snapped:
“So you’ll marry education alone? I won’t! I’m tired of living among people who don’t even pray, who only check the clock. And now you’re saying no to your father’s command?!”
Her anger grew, ranting nonstop until Rahane broke into tears. Daddy intervened:
“Inna, be patient—she has her own truth.”
“What truth? Education above marriage? Not with me. I’m leaving. I won’t spend another day here.”
She stormed out. Ibrahim, after setting down his newspaper, went into Rayhanah’s room to pack some of her things. By 1:00 PM, they were to fly to Chicago with American Airlines from Changi Airport, while Inna and Baba Doctor would return to Nigeria.
Daddy comforted her gently:
“Understand, Rayhanatu, marriage comes before everything. This schooling is only to fill the emptiness until Allah brings your husband. Now that he is here, your life belongs with him. Would it make sense for you to be in one country while your husband is in another? No.”
She shook her head, wiping tears, her body trembling. He continued:
“Think of it—Allah has blessed you. If you calm down, He’ll find you schooling wherever you go. Ibraheem is a good man. I’m not praising him without reason—you’ll see one day yourself. He’ll be there for you, and with your children.”
She hid her face in her scarf, smiling faintly. Just then, Ibraheem entered with her heavy trolley, leaving behind excess items he couldn’t carry.
By 11:30 AM, they locked the house, returned the keys to the landlord, who refunded the remaining rent. At 12:30, they were at screening. By 1:00 PM, the American Airlines flight took off, the plane roaring across the runway.
Rayhanah wiped tears as she watched Singapore’s skyscrapers shrinking in the distance. She whispered to herself:
“Bye-bye Singapore… Bye-bye Informatics!”
By 2:00 PM, Daddy and the rest were also airborne with KLM to Nigeria after a transit in India.
Rayhanah in Chicago
When they landed in Chicago, it was raining heavily. Yet, no words passed between Ibraheem and Rayhanah. Her heart was still wounded—this sudden cut-off from her studies that she had fought so hard for, her only dream in life.
She remembered her father’s words daily: “You are nobody’s daughter, except the daughter of a poor man. Stand firm, don’t overreach.” That’s why education was her only ambition. She longed for deep knowledge, to one day benefit from it.
But her heart had not yet accepted Ibraheem as her husband, nor as a man she could ever love. In her eyes, he was far beyond her reach. She had tried to forget Yaya Khalipha, but she couldn’t replace him with Ibraheem.
Still in shock, she followed Ibrahim as he unlocked a luxurious American villa. They had been brought there in a hospital car from Illinois, chauffeured in a vehicle far more luxurious than anything she had ridden in Singapore.
Though exhausted, she prayed before collapsing asleep on the sofa, still in her clothes. Ibrahim lingered, watching her curled up with only her thin scarf for warmth. Memories of twelve years ago flooded his mind—how devoted she once was, patient even with Abida’s harshness, obedient to Mami, beloved by Azizah.
He knew Mami had liked her, but why then had she opposed her marriage to Khalipha? His heart whispered the answer: because destiny decreed otherwise. Every marriage is written in the Lauh al-Mahfuz before birth.
Khalipha was handsome, radiant. But why did he want Rayhanah, who wasn’t exceptionally beautiful? Few men recognized her true worth—except doctors, who understood the value of every part of a human being.
He had once struggled to forget her, fighting his emotions, convincing himself it was just pity. What did she have that was worth loving? Yet, by nature, he had always desired a woman like her—not overly beautiful, not light-skinned, not showy, not rich, but genuine.
He knew nobody finds 100% of their dream partner. To him, Rayhanah fulfilled about 80% of what he had longed for. And since Allah had written her as his wife, she was now with him—not by his own effort, but by destiny.
Reflection
Rayhanah’s new life in Chicago began under rainclouds and heavy thoughts. Her love for education clashed with destiny’s decree. Ibrahim, certain of fate, saw her as his destined companion. She, however, carried the pain of dreams cut short and the struggle of accepting a future she had not chosen.