Chapter 68: Chapter 68

They hopped down from the bikes that brought them into the midst of Moreye village, with mischievous smiles on their faces-Umma and Amna walked over to the face they had an agenda with Sagiru to wait for them, so he could lead them to Hayfah's house.

They went to the place but couldn't find even someone that looks like Sagiru, getting slightly agitated. Umma turned and asked the people around the small market, "Hey! Please have you seen Sagiru?" She asked, ignoring the looks the kids and even the adults were flashing them, curious to know what brought these people into their village.

"Mi anda (I don't know)," A little boy that understood the hausa she spoke with, replied her in fulani, and that's when she remembered where she is and the language she had to use.

"Have you seen Sagiru from Galadimawa please? He told us that he'll wait for us here," Umma asked again, this time in fulani and to a young adult that looked a little bit matured.

He stared at her before something clicked in his brain. "Oh! Sagiru had some huge amount of money, after the bride from city was brought! The amount was so huge, you need to see how we've been to his house just to take a glimpse!" He exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. Umma thought he sold out the farm she gave him-which made her brushed it off immediately.

"I've known that. Where could we see him please? We need to get back to the city in time," Amna asked, seeing how Umma was likely into a hiatus, she too was bamboozled, how this guy sounded wasn't exaggerating, but she need not be paranoid, or he might've sold Hayfah out? That would've been great!

He looked at Amna and laughed again, annoying laughter that made Amna cringed. "Sagiru? You will never see him again, not in this village-I heard that he left even his family and went deep into the city that has alot of riches. So....Sagiru is no more." And he began chatting with his friends around, leaving them there stiffened in astonishment and what they wouldn't like to call desolation.

"Would you please take us to the city bride's house? I'm her mother please." Umma talked after what seemed like forever, to say she was detrimented would be an understatement. Sagiru ditched her and left, what happened? She was sure the farm she gave him couldn't be that expensive that he had to leave even his family. In the first place, he couldn't even find the one that'll buy it in such a huge amount this young man described.

"I'm working here, I can't leave my work," he answered and went back to his work, which was selling oil, maggi and the sort-to the children coming over.

"I would pay you please, just to take us there and come back." Umma spoke again, dipping her hand into her bag and brought out a copy of 1000; handing it to the young man.

His face broke into a large smile, he collected it and assigned his friend to look over the shop for him, before he walked over to them. They were walking, he was fast ahead of them, but Umma and Amna couldn't talk about anything concerning Hayfah or the betrayal of Sagiru. They came here overly thrilled, wanting to see Hayfah may be pounding fura or cooking something in those fulani attires, all the beauty and structure beginning to fade away, and what Sagiru did made them a little bit unsure. Something really happened.

"This is the house. Jibril's house right? She was brought here in a car, and was taken into something that looks like a mirror. You could even see yourself so clear on what they've taken her in, and she was laughing and one handsome rich guy was together with her and his family. You might need to check the house." He didn't wait for anything as he turned back and walked away.

Umma and Amna shared known looks and took in a deep breath before walking over the door entrace of the house-none of them want to divulge into what this guy had said, but somehow; he had proved their instincts. Something happened.

"Hey! Who are you?" Someone yelled from behind, as he was striding over them in breaths.

They simultaneously turned and faced him, "We're here for Jibril's wife, Hayfah. I'm her mother, and this is her sister." Umma answered, scrutinizing the young man that was staring back at them in confusion.

"Hayfah? I'm Jibril, but I don't have a wife-she've died five months ago. So I think you mistook the house." He was smiling gently at them, unable to remember the person they were talking about.

Their faces broke into a grin, atleast they found the husband of Hayfah, and she might've changed a name or haven't even told them her real name. "So you're Jibril?" Umma asked, feeling satisfied at how unrich Jibril looked like, Hayfah would surely not live in luxury.

"Yes, and I don't have a wife anymore." He answered back, looking at his almost nonexistence house-for he only sleep here in the night and leave early in the morning.

"We mean Hayfah, the one you got married to; two weeks ago. The daughter of Talhah Muhammad you went to his condolence prayer? The one Sagiru gave her hand in marriage. The city bride!" Amna exclaimed at last, finally finding the words to use so he could understand whom they were talking about. But how could this happen? He was married to her, and how couldn't he know the one they were talking about? There is something really fishy that happened, and they dread to know.

"Ohh!" And he let out a soft chuckle, brushing his nape. He stared at Amna's face for some seconds and yawed his gaze away.

"She wasn't married to me. But I think you might need to enter so I could discuss everything with you." He brushed past them and opened the door to the house, they exchanged looks and followed behind him, their hearts erratically beating against their enclosures. This wasn't what they planned.

They entered the house and he walked them over a tree that was in the middle of the courtyard with a spacious shade. He spread a mat for them and sat on a stone, facing them.

"We're all ears then," Amna spoke again, looking all over the house to catch a glimpse of Hayfah but couldn't.

"My name is Jibril Musa, and I'm not married to Hayfah-her husband's name is; Adyan Aliyu Ardo and..." before he could even finish, they were on their feets, flashing him petrified and confused looks.

"Don't! Don't even repeat that word here. How could she be married to Adyan when we were told you're her husband?! Where do you even know that name? She ran away and told you to say she was married to him to whoever might come looking for her? You don't know Adyan, don't ever repeat his name here!" Amna was talking at the pitch of her voice, pointing at Jibril with her index finger, looking around, so she could see Hayfah walking out of somewhere and tell them he was just fooling them.

"Calm down, but that's the truth. I'm his second cousin from his father's side. And if you'd calm yourself down and hear me out, I can explain how it all happened." He was intensely staring at Amna, she looked beautiful to his eyes, even more than his deceased wife; Julde.

"Calm down? You're the one to calm down and tell us to gooddamn truth now!" She bellowed and angrily flashed him a disgusted look, looking away to hide her tears. This might be true, but how? That's the question that kept ringing in her brain.

"I have some work to do, and if you'll calm down and let me explain everything." Umma made Amna sat back on the mat and had her eyes glued on Jibril's face, so distraughted to even utter a single word. What kept ringing in her mind was 'Sagiru betrayed her!' Not just betrayal of getting Hayfah married to Adyan, he damaged her whole life!

"You see? Adyan is my second cousin, my mother was his father's cousin. They came together with his mother to this village..." and he didn't omitted a single information about how Adyan married Hayfah, the money he gave to Sagiru, him giving them this house to just spend a day so that the ones that brought her couldn't realize she wasn't really married to him; a poor fulani man, rather; a rich handsome fulani man.

This wasn't how they wanted the table to turn. They came here to tell Hayfah about her whole life. How she lived in misery since before she was born, the completion of the story of Rukayya, the hardships they made her experienced since her childhood, and invite her to the wedding of Amna and Adyan, not this! They want to leave this village with a satisfied smile on their faces and triumphant laughters coming out of their mouths, as they'll leave Hayfah crying anguishly. But it was likely changing. It has changed_for Amna was already crying bitterly.

Jibril kept looking at how Amna was crying and shaking her head, he knew she wanted a miracle to happen, a miracle that could break Adyan and Hayfah's marriage and get her hitched to Adyan, but that could only be in their dreams. Even if Adyan divorced Hayfah, she couldn't get married to him unless Hayfah died. That's the rule. Hayfah blocked even an ounce of chance of her getting married to Adyan. One couldn't marry the husband of his sister, nor could the husband marry a sister to his wife if she's alive or even when divorced-unless the wife is dead.

"We may take our leave." Umma spoke with a crooked voice and began lifting a profusely crying Amna, unable to even utter a word, the last time she felt something close to a heartbreak was the day Talhah got married to Rukayya, and today; she was more than heartbroken, she was scorched to some extent.

Amna stood up and tumbled on her feet, but Jibril was so fast as he held her hand, she doesn't matter who held her. How poor he was, the fulani attire on him, all she could hear ringing in her ears was 'You can never have Adyan, he was married to your sister' and it kept making her cry.

He helped her slipped into her shoes before a scorched Umma held her hand and they trudged out of the house with a crying Amna and internally bleeding Umma. Jibril got glued on his spot until he couldn't even see their retreating backs. He heaved a sigh, and all he could see in his closed eyelids was Amna's face, how she looked radiant and beautiful-even when crying-she was a damsel.

***

She was zipping his trolley of clothes, smiling and shaking her head. Since when they came back to their house, Adyan didn't knew the right time to fall sick and gave himself a bed rest untill she mentioned that they should arrange their wardrobes.

She had been calling his name but could only get a fake cough or fake painful whimper as an answer. She've finished arranging their wardrobes, and thought Adyan was joking, but he was still on her bed engulfed with his blanket.

She smiled and walked to her room, for that's where he was. She entered the room with soft steps and found him watching a movie with his phone-after sensing her presence, he quickly dropped the phone and get back completely into his blanket that it even closed his face.

"Adyan! I'm done with the wardrobes, I need my Hayatee back, not the little boy that feign sickness because of wardrobe arrangement!" She exclaimed and yanked off the blanket away from his face, and her eyes landed on his handsome face that was staring back at her with a smile.

He registered her words in and abruptly sat upright. "You're done with the unpacking? May Allah bless you, Rania! I'm well now, lets watch a movie!" He jabbered and started looking over for his laptop but Hayfah's laughter made him paused to look at her.

"There are little things I want you to unpack, c'mon, since you're well; let's go." Before she could even close her lips, he was back on the bed, in the blanket, and she found herself being dragged into the blanket.

"I have a fever, and suffering from flu, Rania, let's sleep for a while," he spoke in a feign whimper.

Hayfah opened her mouth to protest but he mumbled "Let's sleep, Rania." Merging their lips affectionately, and she gave in to his warmth.