A tap -or more like hit- is given to her shoulder and then the cover is completely drawn from her body, exposing her to the merciless cold air blowing from the A/C. She can feel her leg been drawn from the bed and then a shout of her name. All these are done by her personal Alarm AKA mama.
Knowing Aysha is a heavy sleeper, Mama takes the liberty of waking her daughter up for fajr everyday which is proving to be a very hard job. It takes at least 20 minutes for her to wake up for fajr.
She squints her eyes just as Mama says "I am going to pour water on you if you don't wake up this instance" Aysha didn't take the threat seriously until she faintly hears the footsteps of her mom heading to the bathroom.
"I'm up" she raises her hand while still laying with her eyes close.
"Why don't you try to make an effort to wake yourself up for fajr, seriously when you get married do you want to make your husband late to the masjid just because he is waking you up while you are sleeping like a bear who has gone into hibernation" her mom rants as she leaves the room. So early in the morning. African mothers! They don't go a day without talking about marriage, the moment you turn eighteen they'll start nagging about marriage.
Aysha enters the toilet to perform her ablution. Looking in the mirror as she opens the faucet. Her hair is sticking in all direction as if she rolled all over -which she probably did-, if she remembered correctly she had on a scarf but as usual it slipped off her hair while she was sleeping. She finishes her ablution and comes out of the toilet.
She splays the prayer mat and grabs a long hijab to cover every inch of her body as she has on only a spaghetti strap pajama top and shorts. When she finishes she removes the hijab and falls down on her bed, letting sleep to take over her.
❧
She brings her hand to cover her eyes from the rays of sun making their way to the room from the open curtains straight to her eyes. She blindly searches for her phone on the bedside table with her eyes close. When she locates it she brings it to her face squinting a little to see the time, 12:05 it says. Which is the normal time she usually wakes up.
She brushes her teeth and makes her way out of the room with a long hijab on, she knows her father and brothers are not in the house but just to be on the safe side, she wouldn't want to appear in front of a guest or a random male wearing only a skimpy pajamas.
When she makes sure there isn't any guest in the house she removes her hijab and goes to the kitchen in search of food. She enters the kitchen to see Fatima, their cook by the cooker, cooking something Aysha couldn't see from where she stands but knows would be amazing by the aroma coming from the pot.
"Good morning" she says sliding on a seat by the breakfast table in the middle of the kitchen.
"Good morning" she answers back with a smile. Fatima pours tea from the whistling kettle to Aysha's favorite mug and slides it to her and from the smell of it it is also her favorite, chamomile.
"Thanks" she says gratefully. She pours two teaspoons of sugar and brings it to her mouth, nothing is better than starting your day with a hot cup of tea.
She slides a bowl and a plate to her. A simple catfish pepper soup and some home made bread buns that looked too beautiful.
"You are the best" Aysha says sending her a flying kiss.
"It is for lunch but I know its one of your favorites" she chuckles turning back to the cooker.
"This tastes delicious as always. You are the best chef in the world" she says moaning at the taste of the food, as always nothing less than the best.
"Right back at you" she shoots back. "Which reminds me, we miss your cooking" when it comes to cooking it's safe to say aysha has it completely handled, not baking tho, that is unfortunately not her forte. The last time she tried to bake a chocolate cake it was a disaster, the cake was brown quite alright but it definitely wasn't because of the chocolate but oh well, one couldn't have it all.
"Do you know where Mama is?" She asks as she washes her plate.
"Yes I think she is in her room".
Aysha goes back to her room and takes a bath putting on a simple white dress before going over to mama's room.
She lightly knocks the bedroom door before entering. "Mama" she calls out.
"I'm here" she hears her voice from the study, the study is connected to her room. Aysha enters the study, by the large window -which shows the backyard that is filled with trees of different kind of fruits- lies an oversized mohagany desk which mama is leaning on as she sits on the swivel chair typing away on her laptop. A bookshelf filled with mostly business books sits at one side of the wall with a comfortable looking couch and a Persian rug on the floor.
"What are you doing?" She plops down on the couch upside down, her head on the floor while her legs were mid air.
"Nothing, just replying to emails" she replies without looking.
"Innalillahi Wa Inna Ilaihirraji'un, which kind of sitting position is this? Why can't you for once behave like the girl you are, you want to get married with the way you are acting" she rants when she looked up after she was done.
Leave it up to her mom to declare her a tomboy just because of one thing she did and marriage, when did she say she wanted to get married, if it's left to her she is dreading it. Like she says, African mothers! As funny as that sounds Aysha isn't ready to leave her single life.
"Anyways, mama what about my Kayan sallah? I want to take it to the Tailor's" she changed the topic.
"Your mates are worrying about eid clothes for their children and you're here talking about yourself." She shakes her head. For God's sake! No matter what the conversation is about she always finds a way to turn it towards the direction of marriage.
"But since that's not my case why shouldn't I talk about my own" she grumbles lowly.
"Did you say something?" Mama narrows her eyes.
"No! Nothing" she shakes her head. Mama is usually laid back but when she's working she is a totally different case, she gets irritated and flips out easily.
"Was it not just last week you took some other clothes to the tailor?" She asks.
"Yes but mama those ones are not for eid. I want ones particularly for eid" she pouts, times like this she really acts like the last born she is.
Mama shakes her head, "there are some fabrics and laces inside my closet take some. If you take all I'll deal with you this time" she warns. Aysha loves new clothes and whenever she sees mama with new fabrics she takes them all for herself.
She takes them and leave the room. "Mama I'm going to the tailor's" she shouted behind her.
She goes back to her room to get ready. She wraps a scarf around her before grabbing her shoes and bag along the way not before double checking that her phone and wallet are both inside.
And now that she can't drive and all the drivers are on leave she has no idea how to get to the Tailor's, why she didn't even think of all that before getting ready is something she could never guess. Deciding the twins are her only choice because she heard them coming back a while ago she sets out to look for them. She knows they willing wouldn't want to go but there's nothing a little groveling wouldn't make possible.
The twins spend 80% of their time at home in the gaming room between both of their rooms in the east wing of the house and that's where she finds them.
She knocks on the door and opens it before they even answer. There are so many bean bags lying around the large room because the twins used to host their friends for games but they haven't done that in a while.
Sitting on one of the bean bags furiously tapping a controller pad, with his whole attention on the TV screen where some sort of soccer video game is been displayed is Fahad. He didn't even notice when she came in so she simply turns to the twins giving them an innocent wide smile.
"What do you want?" Abdulraheem asks with a sigh, knowing she is only ever extra nice to them when she wants something .
"I need a ride to the tailor's" she fakes a sad expression.
"No way!" "Not happening" they both decline simultaneously shaking their heads.
"Why?" she pouts moving her head to the side trying so hard to give them an innocent puppy face.
"Because it's so far and my favorite football team is going to play in less than an hour" Abdulrahim says.
His phone starts ringing and he answers with a "hey babe". It definitely is his fiance, they have been engaged since last year. Her name is Maryam Ibrahim, daughter to rtd. Col Ibrahim Ahmed.
"Why do you even need to go to tailor's, you already have enough clothes" Abdulrahman rolls his eyes.
"Big brother don't you know that clothes are never enough" she says as she sits next to him pinching his cheeks he and smacks her hand away.
"Oh hey Aysha, I didn't even notice you" fahad waves at her when he pauses game and she barely acknowledged him.
"Okay baby, I'm on my way" Abdulrahim says making her to cringe, she never could have guessed he had this lovesick side of his.
"Na maryam bada kanka a sare" Fahad hails him with a chuckle.
"Let's just go" he grumbled standing up.
"Why should we come?" Abdulrahman asked . Abdulrahim gave him a secret look and he nodded his head in resignation.
"Well Aysha it looks like your wish has been answered so let's go we'll drop you" Abdulrahim said.
"Thank God she was starting to get annoying" Abdulrahman dramatically raised his hands in a prayer.
"Hey!" she exclaimed slapping his arm.
•••
Salam,
So, how is this chapter
Kind of a filler. But, 😮😮 Hajiya Iya is coming. Do you think she has a motive of coming?
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Allah Hafiz