To bare it all

"it's like the story of someone who went off and didn't return - that's where I'm going."

~That's where I'm going, Clarice Lispector.

.

The stillness of the night so pin drop, not even a ruffle of breeze or a stir from crawling night things was heard, the world was asleep and her aches kept her awake. It was so still Salima was hearing herself breath, she let time slide counting the breaths she took in since abandoning her bed, Sleep used to be an escape but she had had too much of it and it was making her sick. Reposing in the dark instead, as it was a sooth to crawl into and hide so as it was pain that you reside alone in it. darkness was a friend that didn't depart however that dawn she felt the coldness of being the only living soul in the unlit room even as the faint smell of the people she shared it with lingered, it pronounced more her aloneness.

For the days since the short break, she had only been waking, rereading old books and staying awake last part of the night studying scriptures till morning. Other times she scrolled media and let time pass.

Parts of her pseudo hardened self had shed, and she let herself miss people.

Salima seldom admit how quick she was to see people past acquaintance, extend a hand of goodness and she saw a friend in anyone and everyone. Belike, it was because she had scarcely knew kindness or the rooting fear of being alone - the way it left her feeling like a wrecked ship amidst stormy starless nights. People drifting left her void and reasons why she saw isolating easier than risking breaking ties. They were good to themselves, all three of them and it was enough she saw them as friends even though they saw her nothing more than a person they shared room with.

she never uttered it or showed it no way than being a good listener and hastening in sharing her thoughts with them.

Bushra was more outgoing, an ardent believer of happy ever afters, she seemed to hold ideas that life was incomplete without one to share it with and never gave up on finding the perfect match even though many of her attempts had failed. she liked Bushra as much as she did Anisa but among the two she inclined more towards Anisa in ties as they were familiar in traits and interest, their love of same genre of literature, myths and classic romance even when in real they shared same unfailing avoidance for the other gender, which was a rare thing.

Whenever Salima had talked of the unfair norms and patriarchy, she always had Anisa's ears. The energy and intensity of their questioning of culture had created a unique bond.

They were not friends that were always chatting with each other, they could be silent some times, going days without any heavy talk and it meant nothing. It was perfectly normal.

In the absence of real voices, Salima replayed conversations she had last had, deep talks that had drawn tears from old wounds, then hope and laughter after she had come back to hear Bushra narrate her unrelenting optimism for finding the love of her life. The missing piece of her soul.

It was a forenoon on a tuesday, they had walked far into another part of school, a change of environment which was a suggestion of Anisa's as their regular had become too familiar, something new would stir the mind, keep it fresh and more open to retain. they were done with reading and eased leisurely amidst designated resting places otherwise known as love garden because of the frequency of couples found in the area.

"how often do you speak to Habiba?" It seemed the book Salima had in hand, Habiba's forget-me-not had reminded Anisa of her good friend who was countries away.

"Not so often, sometimes once in weeks and the last time was when we both spoke with her through video call" Salima wondered the root of the sudden question but answered anyways.

" by the way how do you know Habiba gave me this?" It hadn't skipped her mind that Anisa wanted to say more from the way she gazed at the book.

"I've seen the book on her shelf a few times visiting her,it was a gift from her sister. Habiba wasn't into gothic literature but she would let me read though she never let me take it beyond her room" Anisa was observing the chatting couple in front of them. "never knew she was keeping it for someone who's more into it than I am, I wondered who it could be, who loved such old things"

Salima listened wondering where the conversation would lead to as Anisa's focus was elsewhere, the couple before them playing cheap romance.

" I wonder what he's telling her that's making her smile that much. what are those trapping words that can never work on me" Anisa's gaze was strong and together with Salima's good stare they successfully made the duo uncomfortable having them leave the place not without getting a bad eye from the girl.

"I suppose it is with the same way my father must have made my mother give up her whole life to be with him"

Anisa had rejected many advances, she was notorious for her saying no to men. To her, they were predators looking for preys, but her refusal to fall prey had been misconstrued as arrogance, that because she was too pretty and classy to talk to boys who didn't drive cars to school.

"Same way here"

It took a lot of selfcontrol from Salima to not hurl stones at people who did PDA.

"Is it wrong to let bad life experiences define a whole race, the race of men. To be wary of even the ones who have done nothing to wrong you, that you repel them so much you don't even give a chance?"

" People who've survived car accidents tend to be wary of traveling roads" it was the closest to something reasonable Salima could come up with.

"Is it even possible to spend your whole life avoiding roads?" Anisa's question was rhetorical. no answer came from Salima and Anisa continued.

"Nose-diving into these gothics, those hair raising stories. love in its pure form, loving someone like the flesh of your flesh without lust, no materialism attached just love, the way it was created. How can someone detest of a thing yet read of it so fervently?"

"Seems hypocritic?" Salima asked, half- expecting Anisa to say yes.

"Maybe the truth is the conflict in your mind that you try knowing. burying heads in fiction seems like a closer bridge to a wish that you think impossible. You want and you don't want and you don't even know why." Anisa was invading territories Salima had hardly let anyone pass.

"I might be guarded when it comes to dating and the likes but that is because those are time wasters and I believe in the real thing, real love and I'll only let it in when I feel it's right. It doesn't mean I hate it all together, like you "

" I never believed you to have ideologies as sick as mine" it was no longer news to Salima, Anisa was as avoidant as she, though she knew her parents divorce played a role. She never mentioned the cause of divorce.

" It's not really sick maybe the cure is a little less hate and more hope. you were wounded badly, I won't tell you how I know"

Salima's curiosity was roused

"So can I know how you know?"

"I observe and watch closely but before I tell you that would you spare an ear for my own story"

" Ok. I'm hearing" hands folded, Salima was a good listener.

" You know I told you my mom is divorced, my siblings and I shuffle between here and Niger."

Salima remembered she mentioned it more than once but never elaborated.

"Growing up I thought I had the perfect family, great siblings, a cool dad and a super loving mom. My dad's still cool though but I hate what he did to my mother, it might have been unintentional but the pain I saw her go through makes me feel something akin to dislike for him. Mind you,I love my father." To Salima no father was worth hate so long he didn't run from his kids like garbages he badly wanted to be disposed of.

" my mother met him when she had been posted here for youth service, he was after her for almost two years. My mother said she had given in to him after so much persistence, with the way her eyes light up any time she tells me and the frequency of narration, my mother must have been and is still swoon by him. They were married, many tolerable years. it was my mother who had loved him, maybe my father thought he could love her but he didn't really.

Before marriage, rumors had reached her ears, my mother had vague knowledge of an old lover of his, one he had a tumultuous love affair with until it ended when she dumped him for a wealthier man. it took a lot for his family to stop him from running after her despite she was married. he pined for her presence believing they were soulmates and she was going to eventually split with her husband and end up with him. His family thought he was definitely over her when he decided to marry but the truth is he literally used my mother to forget her, to believe he could love someone else.

All the years they were married, he had filled her absence with duties to my mother and us.

he was a great father to us, a good husband to my mother but it pinched him once in awhile to tire of her presence, such things happen when there was never a real affection.

I hate that he stirred feeling in her that he didn't feel anything himself.

Fifteen dull years passed, and one day the news of my father's second marriage reached us, his former lover was divorced with kids yet it didn't deter him from treating her better than a woman who had given up her life, her everything, she had loved him with her soul and what she got back was another woman who's presence was still toxic to him being treated better than her almost two decades of sacrifice. Mother was tolerating of the union, never made a fuss but she was pained, I saw it in her eyes.

She told me if it was another woman he had married, it wouldn't have been much of a sting. But for a woman who wasn't soft to him, trashed him and gave him up for someone else, he literally worshipped her. My mother was enduring, she watched three more years of seeing him do things for another woman, things she hadn't seen in her near twenty years of marriage. She filed for divorce.

I'll be lying if I said my father was bothered, he tried to cajole her to stay but It was only for us, not him.

I saw my mother get disposed like trash for a woman who treated him like trash. she went back to her roots, far from my father, she couldn't stand the sight of him loving another woman the way he never did with her." Anisa stopped her long talk taking a needful break.

"So what I'm saying is a man could be after you like his life depends on it and end up dumping you like garbage." Anisa pronounced the 'garbage' with intensity.

"my story might not be worth the pessimism when it comes to finding how true intentions are. it is not a lack of belief but doubtfulness, to fall in a loop of wasting my time loving someone who isn't on same lane. The bottom line is I don't want to see myself getting treated like my mother. what about you, what killed all your hopes?"

" I thought you said you knew something," Salima said, serious.

" I can't judge from half part I overheard. I wasn't asleep that night when you were talking to Habiba. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I just stirred in my sleep and remained awake hence. My sympathy had been with you since, I wished in my mind to be friends with you and here we are, as roommates"

" Do you think I need sympathy?" Asked Salima.

"I don't think you need sympathy. I think you've been by yourself, too stuck up and rigid. you need to relax, at least a shoulder to support you, you are a human being. it would get to you eventually"

Suddenly the air around Salima seemed to dense, weighting against her breathing. her mouth twisted in trying to form words as she stared long into nothing, Salima didn't know how to frame it. She was tired of talking and never being heard.

" So what exactly did you hear?" She asked again.

" that your relationship with your mother's terrifying and you barely talk to your sister and your dad's gone. Literally everything, I'm sorry." Anisa apologized for knowing more than she admitted.

The first time Salima had encountered articles on toxic families, it was one sided, from one of the parent. Such people had another parent to lean on, but she stood amidst nothing with no means of support but broken ties.

Two abusive parent, abusive in physical and unphysical. living with her mother made her bearing of anything, her father's disappearance had strengthened her not to need anyone. She held herself to such rigid standards of hyper independence, it got to her most times but she would hardly admit she needed to rest.

She was ok like that.

"at least even though divorced you still have good ties with your parents.

Sorry if I make an example with your family but I want you to be able to see"

" I understand and I'm listening " Anisa assured with a nod that she would hear her out however she put it.

"Imagine if your mother didn't have a job and she was stuck in that kind of marriage getting maltreated and poured the blame on you or your father punished you with money, like dangling carrot to starving rabbits, you have to do as he says or no food for you. you are just a pawn in their hands, a way of getting to the other. Your parent punishing for their own crimes against each other.

Maybe just a summary of this disgusting life of mine. Fate didn't do me good. I trust no soul but myself, why should I go on narrating?" Salima was a skeptic, it was a trait that would never let her go.

"you never know who's shoulders the safest to rely on. when people really listen and offer to know you beyond depth, it soothes, I really want to hear. Seeing the way you are, so alone, tortures me. I wonder how someone can be isolated in this big world.

I see the way you read those books,the light that appears in your eyes. the way you seem to smile when I talk about visiting my family like you wish it for yourself. You dream of such, you need it. You hate to admit but you want to be loved. you want the acceptance. you want consistency."

Salima couldn't see her own eyes but she knew that they reflected every truth Anisa uttered.

"Maybe there's a lot of love inside you, you just don't know how to give it because you were never taught it. You want it, you don't know it, it's too complex to understand and that's why you run from it than try to figure it out"

A short laugh left her throat reaching Anisa's ears. It was laughter of mocking her own self that in spite of how concealed she saw herself, she really wasn't. people who wanted to see would see how needy she was. She was voracious, to be seen.

There were too many of her mother's brutality, many she had tried to forget but could not. Was she to start from the day her mother had beat her publicly for buying the wrong bubble gum, and after the woman had refused to take it back when Salima returned it, it spelt war.

Her mother had quarreled with the woman and for all the insults she got from the sharp tongued Yoruba woman, she poured it on Salima. Cable wire was breaking her skin, her mother spared no part of her. she could see through tears people who had tried to intervene and got threatened. the wise ones had stayed out of the business of the maniac woman who was pulling a child struggling to get on her feet by the hair. Salima felt like the filth on her clothes, she saw people gaze and from the day, anytime she passed, she got addressed as the girl that was beaten. Some even speculated she was a domestic maid.

"There are too many of them and if I want to say it all, it would take days and you would end up emotionally exhausted if not damaged"

"Please say the little you can"

Salima puffed. if one was to narrate a tale one was to start from the origin and the root of it all was her parents were very wrong for each other, or maybe they were each other's karma. for whatever reason they had married, they were enemies, she grew up watching them fight. she saw brutality, chaos, things breaking. screams that still tormented her mind made peace a most valuable wish, she never got enough of peace.

"Let me say my parent were more like enemies, they hated each other so bad but I still don't know why they tried to lie to the world that everything was good despite they did their best torturing each other indoors" Salima drew a conclusion that her father wanted to leave her mother in the most humiliating way possible as her mother had no job or skill to survive on her own, reasons why she was stuck and pacified herself with lies that they were perfect, like that.

They were always plotting vengeance for each other but her father got her mother first.

"My father knew my mother depended on him for survival and that's why he thought the worst punishment was leaving her." Salima had sworn her life to be independent of any one, let alone a man.

"My mother was one of those women who strictly held on to gender roles. She believed in staying home to be provided for by a man, she saw women who worked as unlucky and that's why she's so angry about even stressing to run a shop, eventually because she's now one of the unlucky women. all the anger she directs at me though she spares my sister stems from a lot of things, one of them being our dependence on her"

It was hypocritic to Salima that her mother wanted to live off people but was inconvenienced by the needs of her own children . She had seen her mother lean on people, so heavily it nauseated. She had groomed Salima to do the chores from a very young age so she didn't have to. Her mother couldn't do the electricity fuse, she could hardly afford to own a pin by herself. For everything, she waited on their father, or anyone willing to bear her weight and she saw the way her father's brow would furrow in disgust yet still her mother couldn't see, she was proud of her role as the feeble female that had to be pampered.

All her mother's pain was she didn't have a man to care for her and that she had to do things for herself.

"However what she was, there were better ways my father could have dealt with it rather than dump us like that. he always had the intention to do so, just used my mother as cover. He was just as villain but knew better the art of deception"

there were secrets Salima would keep to herself till death. Her father was a notorious wencher, her stepmother had been only one of his many paramours that he ended up with. Only Salima knew. her mother was totally blind, it was an open secret he had left with one woman who had been pregnant before union but the truth was there were many of them, and only she will retain the knowledge.

"For a man who rebuked his daughters for walking in the house bareheaded, I didn't expect him to debase himself as marrying a pregnant mistress. The sin of adultery, severing ties with kin, the injustice that his wife and children have a soft life at the detriment of us, the children of the scorned woman. like we don't deserve anything good because of our mother's crimes"

Salima held her father's letter at surface value. she didn't believe he wanted them around him. He only said so because he knew they would decline. he had washed himself clean of his own sins portraying himself the slain saint but Salima was too wise to have her mind twisted, she knew all his villainy and his games. He too was as capable, too willing to be malevolent. She knew how he was deliberate in depriving them, how he punished them with hunger and thirst. The metaphor of them was like that of a thirsty man viewing a fountain yet unable to drink from it despite the abundance and it was worse than poverty. It was dying everyday. Seeing you could have so much but lacking still.

Her father had money but they were poorer than church rats.

Anisa had been listening with her whole mind, it was believable but shocking to her.

"You know the day I had come here for my exams, my mother had refused to give me money for fares. she didn't look like she would mind if I missed my papers. I had taken from what I saved from the allowances my uncle gave" Salima felt like an ingrate she hadn't gone to see him yet, she was wary of how his wife would perceive her, the daughter of the woman who had sown fights between she and her husband. Her uncle was good but he too wasn't spared from her mother and she was shamed at the idea of being seen as needy anytime she showed her face as the child of the ingrate that was also ingrate.

"When I had gone back home ready to face repercussion, she had already spread the word of how I was the evil and did all possible things to portray her as the worst mother in the world just when she couldn't meet up my impossible demands.

She erased her own side of the story how she had bought clothes worth sixty thousands but called my need an impossible demand. I don't want to even start with the curses she throws my way for every slight, how I'm such a horrible daughter and would definitely be a horrible woman to my family and live a bad life and end up getting dumped. She had uttered so many curses that if I told you, it would sound like lies" Salima had exhausted herself how she had said so much but still so little. She wouldn't even start disclosing of their slothfulness, her mother and sister waited on her to do everything, she was the one fit for all the ordinary everyday things yet her mother would tell her she was the child she wished she had miscarried.

"there were times my mother had swore to never associate with me, know me or my children, no matter what I became in life. That if I was thinking she'll be waiting on me or whatever money I was thinking I would have, then I was very wrong.

Anisa, I only knew my childhood being threatened, it was either from the plate pieces I broke by mistake which she would promise to cut my skin with or threatening not to give me food. The way she never did it with my sister left me feeling like I wasn't worth anything."

Salima had always felt like an inconvenience to other people, the way their father didn't care of what would become of them. The way every thing that existed of her felt like a blunder in the perfect life they could have had and she was worthless. The people who gave birth to her felt she was a mistake, that she was the taint to her own blood. the worst was her sister turning out to be exactly as her mother or even worse.

how was she to believe anyone in the world was true. If she didn't have herself, no one would.

" I would tell you the truth, I won't coat it, your mother is your abuser. it is a damaging cycle of abuse. There's no how to put it. Just because she birthed you doesn't trivialize it."

Being the normal person among sociopaths, it was bound to be so, she had read.

"I'm horrified at what you've said and I know that's not all, sorry to say this to you but she's either possessed by a very wicked jinn or she's disordered and I'll go with the latter because she doesn't abuse your sister, so she knows what she's doing"

Salima's heart stung like she should caution Anisa against her utterance, the words were very brutal but true. her mother wasn't as angelic as mothers described in scriptures, she thrived on chaos. Everyday she had something to nag about, she didn't mind bringing back things that had passed years before, so long she had a thing to shout for. To make someone miserable for.

Salima had only been living in fear, she trembled hearing just her mother's voice.

"No one would live like that and not be damaged. I see the fear in your eyes that whenever you answered phone calls from her it left you dull. I noticed everything and I kept watching. The way you feel obliged to do everything for other people. you are painfully restricted, you want to live but are held back by your fears. You grew up tortured and you still are tortured. You thrive the world like an overgrown infant. You are so grown yet clueless about life. You only live for others. To be the door mat, the sacrificial lamb." The truth shuddered Salima and she cried. her peers were thriving, she was toiling and learning life for the first time. She was forging her way through but everytime she would slip back and start from scratch. She toiled but scarcely made progress.

Making peace with her family was either she died first or they did, and she preferred the former.

"It's understandable you should be very picky of people you let in, you couldn't choose your parent, may Allah judge them both but you can choose your partner, and you must never toy that chance.

However, don't be a prisoner of circumstances"

"I'm not prisoner, I'm breaking my head in books and pray to make it through as a great practitioner in my field. you see those houses in those estates, I would live there someday"

"And with whom would you share it?"

They were strolling back to the lodge room, the hunger in their stomachs had drove them out faster than they planned staying.

"I would know when the time comes"

Salima said before Bushra had answered the door, welcomed them in with blowing their ears off, she had her head in the clouds, her long time crush liked her too and she had to share the good news with them.

"If you like be an idiot and get dumped again" they knew Bushra was sick for true love and would do anything to keep whatever looked like it.

"I'll keep trying till I find it right"

"You too like boy, mumu for man" Anisa hissed and Salima was laughing her lungs out as Bushra narrated the rest with her usual high pitch of voice, hardly catching her breath.

"I do Duas, that Allah gives me a love as pure as Adam and Eve, the way they had only each other in the empty world, just them. Imagine being deeply deeply wrapped into each other, you should try it too." It was a thing Bushra had mentioned out of high spiritedness, Salima had taken it to heart, such never crossed her mind, it struck her to mention in her prayer. to cut down ego of human hurt and lay her head down before God and ask.

One who had faith as small as mustard seed would be heard, God answered even the worse of sinners, why not her and for the first time in her life Salima had prayed for the right spouse, all that she wished. if she wanted a family that would be coolness of her heart then it had to be through the legitimate way, however she disliked it, marriage. She let her silence and tears speak for her from the soul of her soul.

Her agony shedding out and for a moment she was filled with a kind of hope, light she hadn't felt in a long time.

It was those times of lightness of heart in the dark night that had kept her on her mat till the morning. Light rays had filtered in and dispelled the former sober of the dark room, she got off her mat and folded it.

The time read six thirty and she turned on her phone notifications, aside class groups she had a really small circle and her messages were sparse.

She clicked on the first one from her sister, they barely had anything to say to each other and Salima always texted first so it was a surprise to get a message from Iman. she opened and it read

'Fauzan's asking for your number should I give him'

She didn't think twice before answering a sharp no. She disliked the boy for no good reason, the way he would smile at her made her want to fold her fist and punch his face, dislocate his very straight nose. Salima rued the scarcity of talks with her sister before moving to the next message, it was from Nazifa.

It was a photo of a baby with an attachment

'Assalamu Alayki

How are you doing?

I'm glad to announce to you a recent addition to my growing family, Amina now has a baby brother, Aman.'

Salima typed all the good wishes she could imagine, she prayed for the beautiful baby boy that was obviously a replication of his mother. She delighted for her, her heart full for the joy of another and she planned on giving her a call later in the day.

Salima saw another notification that she had missed a video call from Habiba. She wondered what good news she had to share so early in the morning but it could wait, she needed sleep first. Once she woke up she had a lot too to talk, to Habiba, to Nazifa.

**

The knock on the door was short and persistent, she thought it was hallucinations but the knocking continued, getting louder as she was clearing her eyes off sleep. It wasn't in her dreams, there was somebody at the door. salima could barely raise her head, it felt heavy.

"are you ok in there?"

Salima knew the voice,it was Anisa's. She remembered that day was the supposed end of break but didn't know any of them would hasten back to school before evening.

"I'm coming" her voice was low, she had no energy to tell her she could hardly lift herself. With strenuous strides, Salima reached the door and opened it.

"What's wrong with you?. I've been knocking since and you look sickly" Anisa dropped her bags before feeling her forehead, "you're running temperature"

" I just slept fine and woke up like this" it reminded Salima of death. how sudden it came like sickness.

"how was home?" Salima asked rubbing the right part of her head that throbbed.

"Forget home for now. we're going to the clinic, I won't see you like this"

"It's nothing more than malaria, I'll go myself when I'm ready" Salima was readying to throw herself under her sheets again.

" No, Fareed had dropped me off, he can take us to the clinic before he leaves. Hurry and wear something let me get the rest of my baggage" she hastened outside.

Salima knew the dangers of not attacking her illnesses early. she washed her face, rinsed her bitter mouth and chewed fresh mint leaves she had left in water since morning.

Draping a hijab over the tshirt and floral skirt she wore under, she asked

"By the way, who's Fareed?"

"My cousin, the one who dropped us off that night, he insisted on bringing me" Anisa answered safeguarding their door with a lock, they already were outside and she helped Salima holding her hands towards the car. Salima for a moment wanted to turn her back, she doubted he wouldn't turn her back and refuse to help, if he remembered what she did the last time. If she even knew white wizard was Fareed, she would have rather trekked with her fever.

"Fareed, my friend here is really sick, I didn't want her walking to the clinic, please can you drop us off. It's not far from here"

Fareed seemed to have a hobby of pampering his heavy beards as it was oiled, very shiny black and contrasting on his face. his hands roamed his wheels, showing how prideful he was of his possession, his car. It was an emerald green, like some expensive automobile she had heard people who knew cars discuss. He seemed to love his car next after his beards. Salima tried maintaining a neutral face as she greeted him, tongue in cheek.

"such a stingy greeting coming from a person who needs help but anyways I'm not vengeful, as a dutiful Muslim I'll help the sick" he let them in though Salima regretted she could have turn her back sooner but didn't, then she would have to still thank him for his subtle shade. Besides it wasn't even she who asked for his help.

They were soon in front of the school clinic, he could have let them outside the gate but he drove into the expanse and found a spot to park.

"At least our sick sister can walk this distance. I tried."

"Thank you" Anisa said to him and caught up with Salima who was already heading to the card section.

"You don't have to wait, I'll walk myself back"

" I'm deciding to wait"

she sat with Salima at the waiting bench. Salima's card was called and because her symptoms were not clear, an instant test had to be run on her. They took her blood sample and after the diagnosis, Salima had been given injections and got her drugs.

"I wasted much of your time" Salima said almost apologizing, they were walking out the clinic.

"I told you it was my decision to wait, you don't have to apologize for every single thing" Anisa hardly closed her mouth when the sight in front of her gave a shock. Salima too could recognize it, the green fancy car was at the spot the owner had left it.

"What's Fareed still doing here?" She walked towards the very familiar vehicle and there was no one inside.

"It was time to pray, so I found the closest masjid" his voice came from behind Anisa.

" What even kept you till praying time?"

" I was waiting for you, Abba asked me to make sure you're in your room before leaving so I had to wait to drop you back" he ended his talk posing with his hands behind him like the dutiful son of his father. His bulk biceps flashed from his native wear as he took the semblance of 'the responsible man.'

"Inside please." This time he looked at Salima who hadn't said anything.

"and Mrs.. oh I meant miss patient I hope you get well soon" he ushered Anisa in before Salima followed leaving him to close the door after her. He hummed incoherent things tapping his wheel and salima let her mind wander to his talk, if the Mrs he had joked about meant she looked too mature to not be a married woman or he just said so without intent.

Her mind could make the worst of things.

"Thank you" she said to Anisa and before she could answer, Salima heard him say "There's absolutely no need for that, I'm used to being the helpful one. Thank you is something I hear every time. This big shoulders are not for waste, they carry"

"She wasn't even talking to you" Anisa countered him followed by a loud hiss. He only laughed as a response and turned up the volume of radio.

Salima eyed the back of his head that had very black frizzy hair slipping out of his traditional cap, she continued her talk to Anisa

" You had spent your time staying despite you're just reaching school without even resting"

"You could've done it too if it were any of us. you're most generous with yourself"

" As miserly as me?" Generosity was the last trait Salima expected anyone to attribute her with.

"we all have things we're miserly with. for some it's with their time, others their money and that's the widespread definition of miserliness but I know it goes beyond that. You're giving with yourself, your readiness to help." Anisa saw the look on Salima, like she thought what she had said was to make her feel better.

" And it's not miserliness if you're lacking yourself"

She hadn't still learnt accepting compliments, so she only gave a small smile to Anisa, showing her gratitude.

"Again, we are here" Fareed announced turning low the radio volume.

Anisa opened the door and stepped out, Salima didn't know if he was too annoying to get any thank you but he had saved her the stress of walking with her headache.

"Thanks"

"So can I have your phone now, as I said the other day, for future contact.

You can thank me better like that"

Salima felt he had caught her this time. A favor for a favor.

she unlocked and gave her phone, pondering his insistence on typing in her phone instead.

He gave a look of triumph as he handed her phone back, Salima doubted she would ever pick his calls. He should save from wasting his time, she had only given her contact because she didn't want to obviously portray herself ingrate, she was never grateful to men, they did what they did because they wanted something and they did bigger things for other girls.

"I saved my two numbers. expect my calls because I would call you"

A curt nod was the only response from her and she turned her back.

"Don't think you're obliged to do anything just because he's my cousin. It should come from your mind and not that you think of repaying favors" Fareed was long gone and they were in the repose of their room.

"I know what I'm doing"

Salima knew it was Fareed who would get tired of being ignored. He didn't look like someone she should take serious, she might be wrong to judge but he didn't look he had any depth. Like shallow waters, all she thought he knew was that he looked good, has a car and has reached the age of talking to any girl who would give him attention. He looked responsible didn't mean he actually was. she couldn't see him beyond a dumb boy riding on his father's privilege though she would never tell his cousin.

But Salima wasn't the only one unwilling to say things, Anisa too was. she trusted Salima to see for herself and make her own choices. When it came to stuff like that she pinned her lips, she would only caution that she tread well.

"I trust you're wise enough for your own decisions" Anisa told Salima who was munching over-soaked cereals and she nodded again. A reassurance from her that she knew what she was doing

Anisa knew not of the guilt that would come after that day. that it sprung from the wrong deed of keeping away from Salima things she knew and had left her to figure it out for herself.

She didn't realize sooner how wrong, so wrong she was.