...poked Ayan’s mouth while giving him a look that I couldn't quite decipher. I let out a silent sigh, noticing that there was something hidden between them that they didn't want anyone to hear or know about.
I took their hands and sat them on the bed. I went to the mirror, which was lined with oils and perfumes like a grown woman's vanity. On one side were creams and hair products, as I understood from the pictures on the labels. I rubbed oil on their bodies and styled the hair they were growing out. I went to their wardrobe; it was packed with clothes, more than one would expect for children, and everything was in pairs. Most were small clothes; I put undershirts and shorts on them first, then began picking out their outfits—a blue shirt and jeans. Before I could finish, Aryan came and held my hand.
"No, don't take those. Not these," he said in his broken Hausa, his eyes suddenly filling with tears.
"Why?" I asked, looking at him.
He didn't answer; he snatched the clothes from my hand, put them back, and picked others. I didn't dare ask again. I helped them dress in what he chose and lightly sprayed them with perfume—it wasn't strong, but it smelled lovely. I held his hand to leave, but we bumped into Altine as she was entering. I moved aside to let her in. She stared at Ayan and the other, and at the sight of her, they both lowered their gaze.
She didn't say a single word to me, only let out a "hiss" of contempt before leaving the room, leaving me even more confused. We went to the parlor. When they saw Saif sitting there working on his laptop, they pulled their hands from mine and ran to him. He put the laptop aside, opened his arms, and they fell onto his chest, laughing as if they’d been given a great gift.
"You look very handsome," he said, stroking their hair that I had spent ten minutes styling.
"Uncle Saif, she's the one who bathed us today," Aryan said, jumping down and pulling my hand to bring me before him. Saif looked up at me once, then looked away without saying a single word. He pulled his phone from his pocket and started taking photos of them. Feeling dejected, I left the parlor and went to Altine's room to sit. I rested my chin in my hand and did what I am best at: thinking.
While I was sitting, Altine came in carrying a plate and a plastic cup. She set them before me disrespectfully, as one would toss fodder to a goat.
"Here is your breakfast," she said, walking past me to sit in the corner. I watched as she brought out a food warmer and a small flask of tea. I saw her pour milk into a cup and add tea from the flask, stirring it with a spoon. She took a sip, then opened the warmer. I saw fried yams and eggs, which she dipped in pepper and ate.
I was baffled because I hadn't seen anyone frying yams; in fact, I had found her frying *kosai* (bean cakes) earlier. I sighed and looked at the plate before me. There were about seven bean cakes with a small dollop of pepper on the side. I hesitated, then changed my mind and took one. I picked up the cup of porridge. I couldn't even swallow; it wasn't what I expected. It was plain *koko* (pap) without a grain of sugar, and it was stone cold and tasteless. Yet, I had seen with my own eyes that milk porridge was made. I said nothing and ate the cakes with the cold pap just to survive. When I finished and stood up to take the plate out, she burst into laughter. I didn't look back or ask why; I just walked out.
### **Part 2: The Shocking Name**
I found Hajiya and the others having breakfast at the dining table. I knelt and greeted them; she answered kindly. As I was about to go to the kitchen, I heard Saif say, “Hajiya Anty, we have a guest coming this week. I thought I wouldn't tell you until I brought him, but I changed my mind.”
“Oh! Who is it?”
“My friend—or rather, my soul brother—**Muhammad Taufik**.”
I didn't even realize when the plate in my hand slipped and shattered on the floor. I was paralyzed by the sheer terror that the name sent through me.
"Amatullah, what’s wrong? What happened?" I heard Hajiya Muhibbat’s voice, but I couldn't speak or move, let alone try to pick up the broken pieces. I didn't snap out of it until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I let out a long breath and slowly closed my eyes.
"What is happening?" she asked again. I exhaled the hot air trapped in my lungs before managing to say, "It’s nothing, Anty. I just felt a sudden sharp pain in my head." She was silent, watching me for a few seconds, before saying, "Go and lie down in Altine's room for a bit." I only nodded; I didn't trust my mouth to form words.
I went to the kitchen for a broom and dustpan, swept up the broken plate, and threw it away. I walked back through the parlor slowly; my legs felt so heavy I could barely lift them.
"So, when is the guest coming so we can prepare?" I looked up and stole a glance at Saif. He was staring at his plate of bean cakes, but he hadn't touched a single bite.
“Tomorrow afternoon, God willing, he will arrive in this town with his father.”
“God is Great! I love how Muhammad Taufik is so dedicated to the religion, just like his father, despite his job. Neither of you has time for yourselves, let alone a woman; that’s why you haven't married yet. You’re only getting older.”
"Hajiya Anty, everything has its time. When our time comes, we will marry. Or perhaps we aren't among those God decreed would find marriage in this world," Saif said, standing up. Hajiya asked why he was leaving so soon, and he said he was full. I entered the room and locked eyes with Altine. She gave me a look of pure hatred, as if she were looking at filth. I quickly looked away and sat on the floor.
### **Part 3: The Confrontation with Altine**
We sat for thirty minutes in silence. I spotted a Qur'an on top of a trunk.
“Anty Altine, please, if it’s no trouble, may I use this Qur'an?”
She looked at me with contempt. “You didn't find it on my head. Why ask me as if I’m using it?”
I said nothing. I took the Qur'an and began reciting *Suratul Maryam* calmly, pronouncing every letter perfectly.
"Madam, lower your voice. I want to sleep!" she snapped. I glanced at her from the corner of my eye and continued my recitation without minding her. Suddenly, I felt a stinging slap across my cheek. I clutched my face and looked up at Altine, who was standing over me with her hands on her hips, huffing like an angry cow about to charge.
“What did I do to make you slap me?”
"Let me tell you something you don't know," she hissed. “Every servant brought into this house must follow my orders. It is mandatory to obey me because I am your superior. I’ve noticed since your first day that you are over-excited, trying to get close to Hajiya and being overly affectionate with Ayan and Aryan. By Allah, you better check yourself before I frame you and trap you in a plot you can't escape.”
I felt a surge of rage rise to my throat. If this were back home, she wouldn't have dared lift a finger against me without me breaking it, despite my usual patience. I stood up, my body trembling and my teeth chattering with suppressed anger.
She stepped closer. "Are you going to hit me back? I see you shaking." She let out a dry, joyless laugh.
I replied, “Even if you beat me with a wooden club, I won't hit you back, Anty. Because I have been raised with manners. I was taught to respect my elders, even if they are only a day older than me, let alone someone old enough to be my mother. I am going to check if Hajiya is finished so I can clear the dishes.”
She looked stunned by my words, staring at me as if I were a ghost. I walked out before she could respond.
### **Part 4: Saif’s Apartment and the Photograph**
I cleared the table and washed the dishes. Then Hajiya asked, "Did Saif take you to his place yesterday?" My heart thrashed in my chest. Saif was sitting there, indifferent, scrolling through his phone.
“Yes, Hajiya, he took me.”
"Saif, give her the keys to your wing so she can clean it before you go out," Hajiya said.
Saif looked up. “Anty, my wing is already clean. You know no woman can beat my standards of tidiness, especially not this one.”
Hajiya smiled. “No matter how clean a man is, Saif, he is still behind a woman. Just give her the keys.”
"It's open," he muttered.
I went to his wing, my heart pounding. The parlor was white—everything from the curtains and chairs to the carpet and TV stand. I tied my hijab around my waist and started tidying. I found papers scattered on the table and an old coffee cup. I took them to the kitchen.
"He said it was clean," I whispered mockingly, mimicking his voice. I cleaned the kitchen and the guest room, then went upstairs to his main bedroom. Everything was white, even the bedsheets.
I changed the sheets and tidied the vanity. I saw an air freshener on the nightstand and reached for it, but then I saw something that made me freeze. With trembling hands, I picked up a photograph. If my eyes weren't deceiving me, it was a picture of **Muhammad Taufik and Saif** together, dressed alike, each holding a prayer mat as if they were going to the mosque. Both were smiling brightly.
"Muhammad Taufik," I whispered, tears streaming down my face.
Suddenly, I heard the door open. I was so startled the photo slipped from my hands and the glass shattered on the floor. I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my ears, the sound of the breaking glass shaking my very soul.
“What are you doing here?”
His voice sounded like it came from above. I couldn't speak. He walked over to where I stood. I opened my eyes and looked at the shattered glass. I looked up and our eyes met. He gave me a piercing look, knelt down, and picked up the frame. Without a word, he walked out. I collapsed to the floor and sobbed. I felt the glass piercing my heel, but I didn't care.
What is the relationship between Saif and Muhammad Taufik? Is he really the guest coming tomorrow?
### **Part 5: The Warning from the Gatekeeper**
I cleaned up the glass, sprayed the air freshener, and left. Saif was gone. I found the old gatekeeper, Baba, sitting on a bench.
“My daughter, are you alright? I’ve seen you standing here in silence for a while.”
“I'm fine, Baba. I wanted to ask you to teach me more of the local language.”
"I have nothing to do, I'm just sitting here," he said. “Get a pen and paper.”
"I went to school, but I didn't go far," I admitted.
Just then, Altine marched toward us like she was going to war, carrying a large bag.
"Don't you know there's work in the house?" she snapped at me.
“I washed the dishes, and Hajiya told me to clean the other wing...”
“So you think the work is finished? Go clean the children's room. We need to start lunch.”
"Safe travels," I said softly. She hissed and dragged her bag away.
Baba the gatekeeper shook his head. “Daughter, you need patience to live with Altine. She has been here since Hajiya got married. Hajiya and her husband trust her completely, believing she would never hurt them. They don't know that she has been harming them and their children from underneath, in secret. She is a two-faced woman.”
My mouth hung open. “What kind of harm, Baba?”
“Many kinds. Altine hates anyone getting close to Hajiya, especially if she thinks they will benefit. She frames every new maid who comes to help until they are forced to quit. Altine is a dangerous woman; she makes even the devil look timid...”
The Children’s Room and Hidden Secrets**
...poked Ayan’s mouth while giving him a look that I couldn't quite decipher. I let out a silent sigh, noticing that there was something hidden between them that they didn't want anyone to hear or know about.
I took their hands and sat them on the bed. I went to the mirror, which was lined with oils and perfumes like a grown woman's vanity. On one side were creams and hair products, as I understood from the pictures on the labels. I rubbed oil on their bodies and styled the hair they were growing out. I went to their wardrobe; it was packed with clothes, more than one would expect for children, and everything was in pairs. Most were small clothes; I put undershirts and shorts on them first, then began picking out their outfits—a blue shirt and jeans. Before I could finish, Aryan came and held my hand.
"No, don't take those. Not these," he said in his broken Hausa, his eyes suddenly filling with tears.
"Why?" I asked, looking at him.
He didn't answer; he snatched the clothes from my hand, put them back, and picked others. I didn't dare ask again. I helped them dress in what he chose and lightly sprayed them with perfume—it wasn't strong, but it smelled lovely. I held his hand to leave, but we bumped into Altine as she was entering. I moved aside to let her in. She stared at Ayan and the other, and at the sight of her, they both lowered their gaze.
She didn't say a single word to me, only let out a "hiss" of contempt before leaving the room, leaving me even more confused. We went to the parlor. When they saw Saif sitting there working on his laptop, they pulled their hands from mine and ran to him. He put the laptop aside, opened his arms, and they fell onto his chest, laughing as if they’d been given a great gift.
"You look very handsome," he said, stroking their hair that I had spent ten minutes styling.
"Uncle Saif, she's the one who bathed us today," Aryan said, jumping down and pulling my hand to bring me before him. Saif looked up at me once, then looked away without saying a single word. He pulled his phone from his pocket and started taking photos of them. Feeling dejected, I left the parlor and went to Altine's room to sit. I rested my chin in my hand and did what I am best at: thinking.
While I was sitting, Altine came in carrying a plate and a plastic cup. She set them before me disrespectfully, as one would toss fodder to a goat.
"Here is your breakfast," she said, walking past me to sit in the corner. I watched as she brought out a food warmer and a small flask of tea. I saw her pour milk into a cup and add tea from the flask, stirring it with a spoon. She took a sip, then opened the warmer. I saw fried yams and eggs, which she dipped in pepper and ate.
I was baffled because I hadn't seen anyone frying yams; in fact, I had found her frying *kosai* (bean cakes) earlier. I sighed and looked at the plate before me. There were about seven bean cakes with a small dollop of pepper on the side. I hesitated, then changed my mind and took one. I picked up the cup of porridge. I couldn't even swallow; it wasn't what I expected. It was plain *koko* (pap) without a grain of sugar, and it was stone cold and tasteless. Yet, I had seen with my own eyes that milk porridge was made. I said nothing and ate the cakes with the cold pap just to survive. When I finished and stood up to take the plate out, she burst into laughter. I didn't look back or ask why; I just walked out.
### **Part 2: The Shocking Name**
I found Hajiya and the others having breakfast at the dining table. I knelt and greeted them; she answered kindly. As I was about to go to the kitchen, I heard Saif say, “Hajiya Anty, we have a guest coming this week. I thought I wouldn't tell you until I brought him, but I changed my mind.”
“Oh! Who is it?”
“My friend—or rather, my soul brother—**Muhammad Taufik**.”
I didn't even realize when the plate in my hand slipped and shattered on the floor. I was paralyzed by the sheer terror that the name sent through me.
"Amatullah, what’s wrong? What happened?" I heard Hajiya Muhibbat’s voice, but I couldn't speak or move, let alone try to pick up the broken pieces. I didn't snap out of it until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I let out a long breath and slowly closed my eyes.
"What is happening?" she asked again. I exhaled the hot air trapped in my lungs before managing to say, "It’s nothing, Anty. I just felt a sudden sharp pain in my head." She was silent, watching me for a few seconds, before saying, "Go and lie down in Altine's room for a bit." I only nodded; I didn't trust my mouth to form words.
I went to the kitchen for a broom and dustpan, swept up the broken plate, and threw it away. I walked back through the parlor slowly; my legs felt so heavy I could barely lift them.
"So, when is the guest coming so we can prepare?" I looked up and stole a glance at Saif. He was staring at his plate of bean cakes, but he hadn't touched a single bite.
“Tomorrow afternoon, God willing, he will arrive in this town with his father.”
“God is Great! I love how Muhammad Taufik is so dedicated to the religion, just like his father, despite his job. Neither of you has time for yourselves, let alone a woman; that’s why you haven't married yet. You’re only getting older.”
"Hajiya Anty, everything has its time. When our time comes, we will marry. Or perhaps we aren't among those God decreed would find marriage in this world," Saif said, standing up. Hajiya asked why he was leaving so soon, and he said he was full. I entered the room and locked eyes with Altine. She gave me a look of pure hatred, as if she were looking at filth. I quickly looked away and sat on the floor.
### **Part 3: The Confrontation with Altine**
We sat for thirty minutes in silence. I spotted a Qur'an on top of a trunk.
“Anty Altine, please, if it’s no trouble, may I use this Qur'an?”
She looked at me with contempt. “You didn't find it on my head. Why ask me as if I’m using it?”
I said nothing. I took the Qur'an and began reciting *Suratul Maryam* calmly, pronouncing every letter perfectly.
"Madam, lower your voice. I want to sleep!" she snapped. I glanced at her from the corner of my eye and continued my recitation without minding her. Suddenly, I felt a stinging slap across my cheek. I clutched my face and looked up at Altine, who was standing over me with her hands on her hips, huffing like an angry cow about to charge.
“What did I do to make you slap me?”
"Let me tell you something you don't know," she hissed. “Every servant brought into this house must follow my orders. It is mandatory to obey me because I am your superior. I’ve noticed since your first day that you are over-excited, trying to get close to Hajiya and being overly affectionate with Ayan and Aryan. By Allah, you better check yourself before I frame you and trap you in a plot you can't escape.”
I felt a surge of rage rise to my throat. If this were back home, she wouldn't have dared lift a finger against me without me breaking it, despite my usual patience. I stood up, my body trembling and my teeth chattering with suppressed anger.
She stepped closer. "Are you going to hit me back? I see you shaking." She let out a dry, joyless laugh.
I replied, “Even if you beat me with a wooden club, I won't hit you back, Anty. Because I have been raised with manners. I was taught to respect my elders, even if they are only a day older than me, let alone someone old enough to be my mother. I am going to check if Hajiya is finished so I can clear the dishes.”
She looked stunned by my words, staring at me as if I were a ghost. I walked out before she could respond.
### **Part 4: Saif’s Apartment and the Photograph**
I cleared the table and washed the dishes. Then Hajiya asked, "Did Saif take you to his place yesterday?" My heart thrashed in my chest. Saif was sitting there, indifferent, scrolling through his phone.
“Yes, Hajiya, he took me.”
"Saif, give her the keys to your wing so she can clean it before you go out," Hajiya said.
Saif looked up. “Anty, my wing is already clean. You know no woman can beat my standards of tidiness, especially not this one.”
Hajiya smiled. “No matter how clean a man is, Saif, he is still behind a woman. Just give her the keys.”
"It's open," he muttered.
I went to his wing, my heart pounding. The parlor was white—everything from the curtains and chairs to the carpet and TV stand. I tied my hijab around my waist and started tidying. I found papers scattered on the table and an old coffee cup. I took them to the kitchen.
"He said it was clean," I whispered mockingly, mimicking his voice. I cleaned the kitchen and the guest room, then went upstairs to his main bedroom. Everything was white, even the bedsheets.
I changed the sheets and tidied the vanity. I saw an air freshener on the nightstand and reached for it, but then I saw something that made me freeze. With trembling hands, I picked up a photograph. If my eyes weren't deceiving me, it was a picture of **Muhammad Taufik and Saif** together, dressed alike, each holding a prayer mat as if they were going to the mosque. Both were smiling brightly.
"Muhammad Taufik," I whispered, tears streaming down my face.
Suddenly, I heard the door open. I was so startled the photo slipped from my hands and the glass shattered on the floor. I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my ears, the sound of the breaking glass shaking my very soul.
“What are you doing here?”
His voice sounded like it came from above. I couldn't speak. He walked over to where I stood. I opened my eyes and looked at the shattered glass. I looked up and our eyes met. He gave me a piercing look, knelt down, and picked up the frame. Without a word, he walked out. I collapsed to the floor and sobbed. I felt the glass piercing my heel, but I didn't care.
What is the relationship between Saif and Muhammad Taufik? Is he really the guest coming tomorrow?
### **Part 5: The Warning from the Gatekeeper**
I cleaned up the glass, sprayed the air freshener, and left. Saif was gone. I found the old gatekeeper, Baba, sitting on a bench.
“My daughter, are you alright? I’ve seen you standing here in silence for a while.”
“I'm fine, Baba. I wanted to ask you to teach me more of the local language.”
"I have nothing to do, I'm just sitting here," he said. “Get a pen and paper.”
"I went to school, but I didn't go far," I admitted.
Just then, Altine marched toward us like she was going to war, carrying a large bag.
"Don't you know there's work in the house?" she snapped at me.
“I washed the dishes, and Hajiya told me to clean the other wing...”
“So you think the work is finished? Go clean the children's room. We need to start lunch.”
"Safe travels," I said softly. She hissed and dragged her bag away.
Baba the gatekeeper shook his head. “Daughter, you need patience to live with Altine. She has been here since Hajiya got married. Hajiya and her husband trust her completely, believing she would never hurt them. They don't know that she has been harming them and their children from underneath, in secret. She is a two-faced woman.”
My mouth hung open. “What kind of harm, Baba?”
“Many kinds. Altine hates anyone getting close to Hajiya, especially if she thinks they will benefit. She frames every new maid who comes to help until they are forced to quit. Altine is a dangerous woman; she makes even the devil look timid...”