MANAL

21. Jawaad

Surprise!!!

Jawaad's point of view.

As usual, work was hectic. My energy had been depleted. All I could think of while driving home, was the comfort of my bed. I badly needed to rest and have some burdens lifted off my shoulders. For two consecutive days, I had been working extremely hard in order to complete the project given by dad.

Incessantly, I kept honking the horn, until the gates eventually opened. Without wasting a second, I drove into the compound and pulled over in the parking space.

"Sir," the gatekeeper called, hurrying towards me. "I'm really sorry. I was in the -"

"It's fine." I raised a hand, dismissively. He wasn't at fault anyways. I was the inpatient one.

I ambled to the entrance of the house and discovered the door wasn't locked. "Adamu, I -" I turned around to ask him about it, but he had already left. I shrugged and walked into the house - perhaps I had forgotten to lock it, because I was in a hurry.

The aroma of jollof rice instantly filled my nostrils. My eyes closed on their own accord, as I took in the pleasant smell. Initially, I was hungry as a hog, but in a split second, the aroma, emerging from the kitchen made me famished. I smiled at mum's considerateness. Even without saying it, she knew what I wanted. I dropped my attaché box on the couch and loosened the tie around my neck, before ambling to the kitchen. "Mum, you should have -" I abruptly cut myself off, as I realized the person in my kitchen wasn't my mother, but some stranger, dressed in a grey coloured abaya and a white headscarf wrapped messily around her head.

Befuddled, I gazed at her, trying hard to recall if I had seen the face before. "Who are you?" I didn't mean for my voice to emerge so harshly, but it did.

"You're back, Jawaad!" She squeaked. "I didn't hear you coming in."

My brows furrowed even tighter. "Who are you?" I repeated my question; this time, not caring if I was being harsh. In fact, I wanted to be harsh. For all I knew, she might be a thief or the likes. "What are you doing in my house, in my kitchen? Who even let you in? You better start speaking, before I call the police and have you arrested for trespassing."

"You..." She trailed off; a sad look on her face. "Don't remember me?"

"If I do, will I be wasting my time asking you?" I sneered.

She hummed. "I'm - oh no!" She exclaimed and quickly turned off the cooker. She turned back to me and caught her lower lip between her teeth.

I could tell she was nervous, but I actually didn't care. All I wanted, was to know who she was and what she was doing inside my house.

"I'm Mariya. My mum and yours are friends. I once visited your parent's house with her and we met over there. Do you really not remember?"

"I don't think I've ever seen you, until today." I remarked, honestly. I found it useless to feign courteousness. Besides, it wasn't really my thing. "Anyways, what are you doing here in my house? Who gave you the keys?"

"I didn't break in." She was quick to turn defensive.

"Obviously." I deadpanned. "I never said you did."

"Hmm..." She heaved a sigh. "Actually, your mum did. She brought me here and then left afterwards."

Bewildered, I raised a brow, questionably. "Why?"

She shrugged.

I could see right through her act. She wasn't oblivious to what mum was trying to do, rather, they were allies. "Just leave. Please." I added the last word to sound less rude.