Greetings, with respect and good wishes to all my beloved readers. I extend my greetings to you all. I hope everyone performed their prayers in good health. May Allah grant us the chance to witness many more—Ameen. May Allah have mercy on the Muslims who have passed on to the abode of truth, and may He allow those of us still alive to leave this world in peace—Ameen, Ameen.
Oh, I hope the reader quickly says Ameen… lol, even though I know you already did—whether you’re a he or a she.
JALILA
Ayusher Muhd’s novel presents Page 1 of the book “Jalila.”
With the seal of the Haske Writers Association.
She hurried out of the bathroom, not even stopping to apply oil, quickly dressed, slung her bag over her shoulder, picked up her shoes in her hand, and headed outside. Her grandmother, Goggo, quickly called out,
“Jalila, haven’t you even eaten?”
As she struggled to put on her sandals, she replied,
“Goggo, just dish out the food there. If Safeenah’s driver leaves without me, I alone know the suffering I’ll face. If I waste time and eat everything, by the time I get to school—”
She finished putting on her sandals, and Goggo quickly handed her twenty naira, saying,
“Here, when you get there, buy something to eat.”
Jalila accepted it and ran outside.
By the time she reached the vehicle, it had already sped off. She ran toward the gate, but before she could get there, they were gone.
Her eyes welled up as she tried to confirm whether she had really seen them, or if it was only through the car mirror. She had been overwhelmed with house chores that morning, yet they did not wait for her. She was used to this, though she tried to endure it—especially since the school she attended was far away. Even though Safeenah’s school was a private one, hers was a government school; still, the distance between the two schools was not that great.
She quickened her pace, knowing she would definitely arrive late.
The road was unpleasant to walk on because of the water that had been splashed the night before. Since she wasn’t wearing her school shoes, the sound of a speeding car made her quickly step aside. She followed the car with her eyes as it rushed past her. She shot the driver an angry glare and clicked her tongue, then turned around and noticed that most of the people behind her were also glaring at the car—it was clear everyone was annoyed by how recklessly it had sped through their lane.
Jalila looked at the car again as it disappeared into the distance, clicked her tongue once more, and muttered,
“Some people have no sense unless they’re carrying luggage.”
She continued walking, exhausted, until she was close to the school. She then stopped, pulled out her shoes, stood by the roadside, put them on, and dusted herself off before heading toward the school. She was surprised to notice what looked like the same car she had seen earlier.
The car moved ahead; she smacked her lips in annoyance and then reached the school gate.
She saw their new teacher standing at the gate, clearly stopping latecomers. She lowered her head as she approached him.
He had been watching her from afar, his face slightly stern. As she came closer, he said,
“Habiba Auwal, what’s this?”
She quickly looked up and said,
“Good afternoon, sir!”
“Afternoon? Now?” he replied.
She hurriedly corrected herself,
“Oh sorry, sir—good morni—”
He cut her off.
“Don’t you come to school early?”
She looked at him and said,
“No sir, honestly today was just unfortunate.”
His face hardened further.
“Unfortunate—on the very first day I start standing at the gate?”
She bowed her head, playing with her fingers. He said,
“Go and take the dustbin and start picking.”
She looked at him, thinking he was going to beat her. A smile spread across her face as she said,
“Thank you, sir.”
He smiled too and said,
“This is your last warning, if you don’t want us to get serious.”
She quickly raised her head, picked up the dustbin, went ahead, and began picking. She glanced back at him—without a doubt, she had never seen anyone look so good in NYSC uniform like Uncle Sagir.
When Jalila finished, she went to her class. Seeing that the classroom was empty, she quickly turned and headed to the lab.
They were having a chemistry practical in the lab. She quickly joined her group. Zarah looked at her and said,
“Jalila, you should see how our eyes were popping—we were scared he might discover that all six of us were absent.”
Jalila replied,
“Leave that. Even I thought he would catch me.”
They continued with their studies until break time. During the break, she bought a ten-naira biscuit, ate it, drank tap water, and saved the remaining ten naira.
After classes, she and Zarah came out chatting. Zarah said,
“Jalila, do you know that yesterday Ya Amud came with his JAMB form?”
Jalila looked at her happily and said,
“Really? So you’re finally at peace—you were scared they might force you into marriage.”
Zarah replied,
“Just leave it. Yesterday I slept so well, because I don’t think I can be separated from my Nasir. And you know he’s in level 3 at BUK.”
Jalila smacked her lips and said,
“These big people and their love. It looks like you’ll even apply to their school.”
Zarah replied,
“Just wait till you ask…”
They laughed. Zarah then said,
“I’m heading home. I know you’ll wait, right?”
Jalila replied, “Yes.”
Since Zarah’s house was close to the school, she left. Jalila stood aside as usual. There were thirty minutes between the time school closed and when Safeenah’s people came. What was surprising was that whenever they were ready to leave, they never cared whether she was waiting or not—yet Jalila could not leave on her own; she had to wait for them.
As she stood there, she heard someone say,
“You haven’t gone yet?”
She turned and saw one of their teachers—the one all the female students in the senior classes always gossiped about whenever they sat together.
“Yes, sir,” she replied.
He slightly raised the book in his hand as if to hit her. She quickly shut her eyes. When nothing happened, she slowly opened them and looked at him. He had simply folded his arms and was staring at her in surprise.
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Greetings, with respect and good wishes to all my beloved readers. I extend my greetings to you all. I hope everyone performed their prayers in good health. May Allah grant us the chance to witness many more—Ameen. May Allah have mercy on the Muslims who have passed on to the abode of truth, and may He allow those of us still alive to leave this world in peace—Ameen, Ameen.
Oh, I hope the reader quickly says Ameen… lol, even though I know you already did—whether you’re a he or a she.
JALILA
Ayusher Muhd’s novel presents Page 1 of the book “Jalila.”
With the seal of the Haske Writers Association.
She hurried out of the bathroom, not even stopping to apply oil, quickly dressed, slung her bag over her shoulder, picked up her shoes in her hand, and headed outside. Her grandmother, Goggo, quickly called out,
“Jalila, haven’t you even eaten?”
As she struggled to put on her sandals, she replied,
“Goggo, just dish out the food there. If Safeenah’s driver leaves without me, I alone know the suffering I’ll face. If I waste time and eat everything, by the time I get to school—”
She finished putting on her sandals, and Goggo quickly handed her twenty naira, saying,
“Here, when you get there, buy something to eat.”
Jalila accepted it and ran outside.
By the time she reached the vehicle, it had already sped off. She ran toward the gate, but before she could get there, they were gone.
Her eyes welled up as she tried to confirm whether she had really seen them, or if it was only through the car mirror. She had been overwhelmed with house chores that morning, yet they did not wait for her. She was used to this, though she tried to endure it—especially since the school she attended was far away. Even though Safeenah’s school was a private one, hers was a government school; still, the distance between the two schools was not that great.
She quickened her pace, knowing she would definitely arrive late.
The road was unpleasant to walk on because of the water that had been splashed the night before. Since she wasn’t wearing her school shoes, the sound of a speeding car made her quickly step aside. She followed the car with her eyes as it rushed past her. She shot the driver an angry glare and clicked her tongue, then turned around and noticed that most of the people behind her were also glaring at the car—it was clear everyone was annoyed by how recklessly it had sped through their lane.
Jalila looked at the car again as it disappeared into the distance, clicked her tongue once more, and muttered,
“Some people have no sense unless they’re carrying luggage.”
She continued walking, exhausted, until she was close to the school. She then stopped, pulled out her shoes, stood by the roadside, put them on, and dusted herself off before heading toward the school. She was surprised to notice what looked like the same car she had seen earlier.
The car moved ahead; she smacked her lips in annoyance and then reached the school gate.
She saw their new teacher standing at the gate, clearly stopping latecomers. She lowered her head as she approached him.
He had been watching her from afar, his face slightly stern. As she came closer, he said,
“Habiba Auwal, what’s this?”
She quickly looked up and said,
“Good afternoon, sir!”
“Afternoon? Now?” he replied.
She hurriedly corrected herself,
“Oh sorry, sir—good morni—”
He cut her off.
“Don’t you come to school early?”
She looked at him and said,
“No sir, honestly today was just unfortunate.”
His face hardened further.
“Unfortunate—on the very first day I start standing at the gate?”
She bowed her head, playing with her fingers. He said,
“Go and take the dustbin and start picking.”
She looked at him, thinking he was going to beat her. A smile spread across her face as she said,
“Thank you, sir.”
He smiled too and said,
“This is your last warning, if you don’t want us to get serious.”
She quickly raised her head, picked up the dustbin, went ahead, and began picking. She glanced back at him—without a doubt, she had never seen anyone look so good in NYSC uniform like Uncle Sagir.
When Jalila finished, she went to her class. Seeing that the classroom was empty, she quickly turned and headed to the lab.
They were having a chemistry practical in the lab. She quickly joined her group. Zarah looked at her and said,
“Jalila, you should see how our eyes were popping—we were scared he might discover that all six of us were absent.”
Jalila replied,
“Leave that. Even I thought he would catch me.”
They continued with their studies until break time. During the break, she bought a ten-naira biscuit, ate it, drank tap water, and saved the remaining ten naira.
After classes, she and Zarah came out chatting. Zarah said,
“Jalila, do you know that yesterday Ya Amud came with his JAMB form?”
Jalila looked at her happily and said,
“Really? So you’re finally at peace—you were scared they might force you into marriage.”
Zarah replied,
“Just leave it. Yesterday I slept so well, because I don’t think I can be separated from my Nasir. And you know he’s in level 3 at BUK.”
Jalila smacked her lips and said,
“These big people and their love. It looks like you’ll even apply to their school.”
Zarah replied,
“Just wait till you ask…”
They laughed. Zarah then said,
“I’m heading home. I know you’ll wait, right?”
Jalila replied, “Yes.”
Since Zarah’s house was close to the school, she left. Jalila stood aside as usual. There were thirty minutes between the time school closed and when Safeenah’s people came. What was surprising was that whenever they were ready to leave, they never cared whether she was waiting or not—yet Jalila could not leave on her own; she had to wait for them.
As she stood there, she heard someone say,
“You haven’t gone yet?”
She turned and saw one of their teachers—the one all the female students in the senior classes always gossiped about whenever they sat together.
“Yes, sir,” she replied.
He slightly raised the book in his hand as if to hit her. She quickly shut her eyes. When nothing happened, she slowly opened them and looked at him. He had simply folded his arms and was staring at her in surprise.