RAYUWAR BAHIJJA Complete Document Written By Safiyya Mrs J Moon
Description
The young man’s call of “Queen, Queen!” rang out, but the intended recipient, lost in thought, remained oblivious, mistaking it for the stepmother’s summons. Bilal approached with a smile, prompting her to quickly adjust her hijab to conceal her amusement.
“You should be ashamed, pretending you didn’t hear me calling you, thinking it wasn’t for you,” he teased playfully. She replied, “What’s up, Bilal? How did you manage to receive such a call from my father while on the road?” Her voice was cool, conveying a hint of disapproval.
“Please, Bilal, let’s not engage in this. It doesn’t befit our status. You resemble Kaedin; I am a member of the royal family and the daughter of the priest’s household. So, it’s inappropriate for us to act this way. May God bless you. Farewell.” With that, she turned her back, engrossed once again in her Islamic studies, and walked away without a glance in his direction.
Bilal watched her retreating figure, his smile fading as he mulled over her words. He sighed, “I’m sure I’ll have a girlfriend when I grow up.” With that, he plucked a strand of his father’s hair from the ground, twirling it in his hand, its luster resembling that of wildflower petals.
Seating himself among the others, he remained silent, the little girl’s remarks still echoing in his mind. The group exchanged bemused glances before bursting into laughter. Bilal waved them off, exiting the gathering with a thoughtful expression.
As she stepped into the house, she responded to the greeting of “Good evening.” He drew closer, bowing slightly, and inquired, “How are you?” “May God grant you good health,” she replied, smiling softly.
With meager means, she picked up her work basin, filling it with water and began preparing for the evening’s rituals. Soon, a large pot of amhuru stew was set to cook. It was then that she noticed the arrival of a young girl, seemingly in high spirits.
“Nana, good morning. I’m off to work,” the girl exclaimed cheerfully. “Hello, how are you?” she responded. Nana glanced at her, shaking her head, and whispered in Bahija’s ear, “I can’t comprehend what happened. That’s why I mentioned my stomach ache. I’m anxious about all the teachers.” Sorrowful, she hurried away, holding her hand, pleading, “Please, don’t touch me there.”
“Where did she go?” Bahija mused, “And why did she meet them? Oh, woman, you know a woman’s conduct can lead to disaster. Regardless of what she says, she will be punished severely by God for her lack of faith.” “May God bless her. She’s well,” she concluded.
She busied herself, shuttling to and fro, attending to household chores. Upon her return, she ignored the Hindu and made her way to her room.
As she began her work, she discovered some items that overwhelmed her. Amidst the confusion, the Hindu came out, laughing and kicking her heels. She winced and retorted, “I’ll be back soon.” Amidst the commotion, she quickly added, “God forbid, you are a hot-tempered, demonic imbecile. I want nothing to do with you.” She hurried to wash the dishes.
Awaje met the teacher, removing her mask, and praised him while bowing, and the other twenty-somethings followed suit, expressing their gratitude.
That day, she and her mother toiled in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Despite the stifling heat and the water shortage, they persevered, their faces glistening with sweat. The Hindu observed silently, but the growing smoke soon caused her a headache.
The teacher entered, greeting them. Coughing from the smoke, he gestured toward his stomach, engaging in a conversation with them, his legs crossed. In discomfort, he called out, “Lanti lanti!!” She retired to her room, arranging the potatoes and laid down.
Another onlooker exclaimed, “What are you doing working amidst all this smoke?” He replied, “Get up, let’s go. You are a chemist.” Slowly, she removed her hijab.
“I went out and asked them to lay down. They emerged, their eyes red, wiping sweat from their brows. May God bless you,” she saluted.
The hubbub temporarily interrupted the teacher’s speech. He reciprocated their greeting, enveloping them in a warm embrace, and they reveled in their joy.
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