Milk ranked as my most frequent purchase today, primarily due to my awareness that my father is in dire need of tea. I loaded one shopping basket with snacks and groceries before taking another basket and filling it with essential items like soap, laundry detergent, and perfume. Then, there was omo.
My attire for the outing was a black abaya, save for a small veil that allowed me to manage both baskets. As I approached the cashier, Amal stood behind me, clutching her biscuit tightly. Upon reaching the table where the cashier was tallying the items, I placed the baskets and retrieved my ATM card from my bag, holding it in my hand while waiting for my turn. My habit was not to withdraw my entire salary; I preferred to make payments using the ATM.
When the cashier finished with two other customers and turned to me, he listed all the items before I handed him the money. He started counting the money, and then it was time for him to bid farewell.
“How much is it?” I asked.
“The bill has been settled,” he replied.
He mentioned that he had seen the tailor’s work on my clothes. Just as he was about to continue, he abruptly stopped and dropped to the floor. It took me a few moments to process this unusual sight, and then I inquired again.
“Who pays for this?”
“Someone out there,” he muttered.
I turned to see Abdallah waiting in his car, engrossed in his phone. I shook my head and waited until the cashier had packed my items and handed them to me.
“Thank you,” I said.
“No, we’re thankful, Hajiya,” he responded.
With both hands, I grasped the door handle and headed for the exit. Amal clung to my shirt, and together we left the store.
As we walked along the road, I heard his voice behind me.
“I didn’t pay the money, and I don’t expect your thanks, but even a glance in my direction would warm me up a bit.”
I stopped in my tracks, turned around, and fixed him with a stern gaze, my face a stormy mask. However, it seemed that my reaction pleased him, as a smile spread across his face. He removed his white glasses and looked at me, but I turned away and continued walking. Then, I heard him hand something to Amal, who was still holding my hand.
“Take this and get in the car, Amal. I know even if I said I’m taking your stubborn mother to the car, she won’t go.”
Amal accepted the money without protest. Money and biscuits seemed to be irresistible to her, no matter whose hand they came from. I gently pulled her hand, and we continued walking.
“Now, I left your husband at the boxing area with his friends and some women,” Abdallah informed me.
I turned around for the second time, dismayed by his words and disliking the sight of his face.
“What do you gain from telling me this? Do you think I’ll believe you? Why would my husband look for other women?”
“Well, I’ve seen it too. Would a man who has a wife like you seek other women?”
“You lack fear of God, Abdallah. By defying the laws of marriage and ignoring God’s commandments, you bring curses upon yourself. Will it harm you if a man takes care of his wife? Can a man speak ill of you to your wife? Are you jealous of yourself? From now on, don’t mention my husband to me. My husband is not unfaithful. It’s clear to me that you don’t understand the sanctity of marriage, let alone how to protect your own family’s honor.”
“I do understand the value of marriage, Halimatu. I respect marriage and all married individuals. I just have feelings for you. I want you to know that appearances and circumstances change, but the heart remains constant. Our relationship will persist even beyond any romantic feelings. We’re like siblings, right?”
“I’m not a stranger, and I hope you realize that.”
He nodded and smiled at me. I turned away and continued walking.
“If I had a woman like you, I would do everything to protect her honor and dignity, and no one would dare to approach her.”
I chose not to respond further and kept walking. Eventually, I hailed a cab and, after a brief negotiation, we hopped in.
“Mangroves, take me,” I instructed the driver.
“Two hundred,” he replied.
“I’ll give you a hundred,” I countered.
“Let’s go,” he acquiesced.
I put on my gloves and secured Amal in the backseat beside me.
“Mommy has the money,” Amal said, handing me the money that Abdallah had given her. I stowed it in my bag.
“Assalamu Alaikum, Hajiya,” the driver greeted me.
“Hello, Halimatu. Are you all right?” I asked.
“Is Hajiya all right?”
“Al-hamdulillah,” I replied. “Did you inform Aminu about the money?”
“Yes, Hajiya, I told him.”
“If you haven’t told him yet, you should. I’ve been silent for too long. I don’t know if you’ve informed him or not, but you should do it now. It’s essential.”