MAWAHIB Complete Document Written By Amnah El Yaqoob


Two young girls strolled leisurely, their youthful radiance complemented by their modest attire. One, dressed in an Islamic uniform, possessed a rich complexion that stood in contrast to the other girl’s casual home clothing. They were in the same room, yet their distinct personalities added a unique charm to their presence.

Jeddah began, her voice tinged with a sense of humor, “Mawahib, let’s talk about that ‘son of God.'”

Intrigued, Mawahib gazed at her with a quizzical expression. “What are you insinuating, Jeddah?”

Jeddah continued animatedly, “Believe me, Hassan and Hussain are all over our neighborhood, and they’re alluding to the fact that even Yaya ASHRAF, your house is no exception to the ‘Hassan and Hussain’ brigade. I’ve been here countless times, but you’ve never mentioned having two little ones at home.”

Saida, with her arched eyebrows denoting curiosity, interjected, “But why do you seem unaware of him, Jeddah? How’s Ashraf doing? I’m sure you’ve seen him around. He always struggles with his uniform. Although they are identical in appearance, they each possess a distinct personality.”

Jeddah appeared surprised. “Are there two big boys like Yaya Ashraf? Mawahib never mentioned him to me.”

Mawahib interjected hastily, “What does it have to do with me or his story? That unbeliever behaves just like their mother, always up to some mischief. He wronged my son Sumar, and since that day, my aversion towards him has only grown stronger.”

Taken aback, Jeddah widened her eyes in astonishment. “I beg your pardon, you’re referring to Suma, aren’t you?”

Mawahib nodded affirmatively. “Furthermore, I was sitting there, and Yaya Ashraf asked me to fetch something from their room. He must have returned from Abuja, but I’m not certain when he’s coming back. As I finished tidying up, I reclined on their bed, resting my head on a soft pillow. The next thing I knew, I was awakened by his angry grip on my hair. I let out a scream, and he thrust my head into the washbasin, drenching me with water. I couldn’t fathom what was happening until I found myself back in my room.”

Jiddah, visibly relieved, inquired, “But your father didn’t intervene?”

“Where was he since they took the authority away from him?” Jeddah sighed.

Mawahib responded matter-of-factly, “Yes, Jiddah, I’m not one to speak ill of my brother, but regardless of our differences, he is family. Even though he may not exhibit the most admirable behavior, he is still a Muslim. I was taken aback to hear about him from you. While he is known for helping others at our doorstep, why would he sleep in his own bed?”

“Is it his bed exclusively? There are six others, Yaya Ashraf,” Mawahib exclaimed.

Jiddah, clearly pensive, voiced her suspicions, “I can’t help but question this behavior. How can one who does good with his own money also engage in such behavior?”

In response, Mawahib declared, “Well, Jiddah, that’s just it. I’m telling you, that man lacks faith. You’re discussing his monetary acts, but his wealth is worthless and shallow. Let’s go, I’ll accompany you.”

As she concluded, she stepped forward, her gaze falling upon Jiddah, who stood there with a mix of surprise and contemplation. Was this a recurring issue within the same household?

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