Dedicated to MARIAMbahzad, Sydhussein and Ayeesha2024 for the votes. This is my little way of saying Thank You.
Jamal
Zipping across the streets, my mind is occupied with getting home and sleeping my eyes off. I've been closing really late from work recently and it's starting to take its toll on me.
We keep getting other requests from clients, apart from the mall project in S.A. One currently being the construction of a mosque in Zamfara state.
It's a good thing the company is divided into different teams, each with a supervisor as the head. It gives Stephen and I more liberty to work on the big shots, the main deals.
Thank God for the competent employees, the pressure isn't easy to bear alone.
At the house, I rush up the stairs to freshen up. Dinner's just going to be cereal, exact same thing I've been eating since I visited the supermarket.
I find it tasking to even fry an egg, nonetheless whip up a plate of noodles.
If my little brother was around, I wouldn't be bothering about what to eat. Jahid has an unnatural flair for cooking. I go over some work, before calling it a night and giving in to sleep's embrace.
The rev of an engine interrupts my sleep the next morning, forcefully waking me up.
I make my way downstairs, as an incessant knocking threatens to tear down the door.
I don't bother replying because I've prepared a damn good speech, about disrupting my sleep when it's barely 9am. Who does that?
I fling the door open with impatience,"Who the he- -". I swallow the rest of the word, as my brain cuts short. I stare wide eyed at the person, no, scratch that. . .people.
"Jamal! Oh my baby, how I've missed you!", Mom exclaims, grabbing me in an unsuspecting embrace. She rubs my back fondly as if I'm the prodigal son, who'd just found his way back home.
I just stand there, dazed and perplexed for a while, before my brain kicks in.
"M-mom?, what are you doing here?"
I ask in surprise. She gives me an amused look and I suddenly feel like banging my head on a wall.
What a silly question, this is HER house.
"Uhm. I mean, what a surprise, you should have called first", I quickly amend then move aside, so she can come in. Dad trails behind her, along with Aunty Asma'u, Hafsah and the driver.
"Good morning dad", I greet, curtsying with respect, as tradition demands.
"Good morning to you too, my boy", He replies in a hearty tone, slapping my back fondly.
I pull him aside as everyone gets in, Hafsah shutting the door.
"Dad, what's mom up to?", I ask in a whisper.
He shakes his head, "I have no idea son. She just told me plainly she'd come see you today. It's a miracle we didn't get into an accident". He chuckles lightly, "She kept urging the driver to speed more!"
"Jamal Hassan Ziyad!", Mom thunders from the kitchen suddenly. I gulp from fear, my mind reeling with questions.
What have I done?
Dad gives me a sympathetic look, "Sorry son, but you're on your own", He says, before walking off the opposite direction. Unbelievable!
YOU ARE READING
Our Stormy Ride
Spiritual#1 Ar-Rahma Series Their names were written down together long before the universe had been created. Life throws them at each other. They collide. An arranged marriage. Their Stormy Ride. For Nadia Ali, life was just as ordinary as a plain white cl...
