FADEELAH Complete Document Written By Fadila Sani Bakori
Description
KADUNA GOVERNMENT CENTER
Strolling leisurely, she exudes an air of helpfulness. Draped in a floor-length brown jalbab Hijab, with a modest handbag slung over her shoulder, her measured pace belies her sharp intellect and contemplative demeanor. Even in her brisk stride, a serene composure prevails, a placidity that accompanies her. The interior is cramped, the domicile diminutive with just two rooms, excluding the servants’ quarters and their petite kitchen.
With a nod, she entered the abode.
Emerging from the kitchen, a mature woman, not exceeding forty, noticed her cooking with eyes stinging from the smoke. Upon hearing Fadeelah’s salutation, she emerged, scrutinizing the greeting before uttering, “Fadeela. Back so soon today?” With a detached tone, Fadeela responded, “My apologies, Mother. Is Father home yet?” The gullible woman directed Fadeelah back to her cooking.
Sinking onto a seat, Fadila, or Guri, removed her Hijab. While seated, a girl, her sister’s kin, approached, querying, “Aunty, are you home? When Dad returned, he mentioned that his vacation hasn’t ended, instructing you to resume work.” Her sister’s words jolted Fadeelah. Wide-eyed and speechless, she eventually inquired, “Is it true Baba is still alive? We greet him even as we leave for work.” Husna, prone to gossip, attempted to speak but was silenced by her mother.
Apprehensively, Fadeelah glanced at her mother, questioning, “Mom, is what Husna said accurate?”
To witness her panic, broach not the topic of her job at Rahama TV.
Ravenous, she returned, retiring to her room and her thoughts. She pondered her potential actions or words when faced with her father’s inquiry. The recurring discourse with her father weighed heavily, an incessant dialogue that occupied their days, prompting her contemplation of seeking work elsewhere for reprieve.
Lying down, she heard her father’s entrance. Promptly following the evening prayer, Kira departed, affording Fadeela the opportunity to slip outside. After prayers, she hastened back to her room, preparing to confront her father.
Disquieted, she completed the Maghrib prayer as her younger sister, Husna, approached and ate. Seated, she awaited her father’s summons, her quiet demeanor leading to an unintended slumber.
At 7:00 AM the next day, Fadeelah embarked on her daily journey to work. She aimed to exit discreetly, the door’s handle grasped, yet her father’s voice halted her: “Fadeelah, come here.” Anxiety etched across her face as she approached, she mumbled, “I was just going to bed, Dad.” Ignoring her greeting, he inquired, “Where are you headed?” “Work,” she replied. “And what do you do there?” Silence ensued, punctuated only by his escalating ire.
Fadila’s father’s voice rose, exuding anger as he chided, “Did I ask how you are, Sando? Does acknowledging my message prove elusive for you?” Rendered speechless, Fadila struggled to respond. “From today, I forbid this job. It serves no purpose. I offer you two choices. Choose wisely, for if you pick incorrectly, within three months, your work will wane to naught!” With his pronouncement, he departed, leaving Fadila alone in his wake.
Fadila Dakya rose and contacted her colleague, Jamilu. Following pleasantries, she confided, “Jamilu, Father has acted as usual. He’s prevented me from going to work today, or perhaps I should say, today’s interference surpasses the ordinary. I doubt he’ll let me continue working. Nonetheless, I’m inclined to endure and persist with my job.”
In response, Jamila advised, “No, Fadila, reconsider. My suggestion is marriage. Seek Father’s consent and, if granted, maintain your employment. I’m not suggesting something covert, am I? Do you comprehend my intention? Who else but Wanda?” Fadila countered, “And what about me? Who am I supposed to marry if I pursue that path?” Jamilu persisted, “What about me, my dear? Fadila, your affection for Wanda is evident. He won’t hinder you, and that assurance alone should suffice.”
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