ƳAR WANKE WANKE  Complete Document Written By Oum Sultan

Description

Translation and Rewriting:

The vast parking lot was empty as the car swiftly pulled in. Sitting in the driver’s seat, the young man called out, “Ammi, Ammi, I’m back home.”

A middle-aged woman, who wouldn’t pass for a day over 45, emerged. “Oh, Sadeeq, why rush? You’ll give me a heart attack with that speed,” she said.

A playful grin crossed Sadeeq’s face. “Ammi, I’m starving; I can already smell the food from outside.”

“Well, it’s only because of the food that you come running like this. Otherwise, what need do you have to return?” Ammi replied, teasingly.

He chuckled, knowing she was right. Without further ado, he proposed, and she accepted. But before he could step into his bedroom, he dashed into the bathroom, then emerged with a towel draped over his shoulder, ready to wash up before dinner.

“Mom, when we’re done with all this, let’s talk about finding a suitable match for Hameeda,” he remarked as they walked towards the house.

“Sure, Hameeda, just keep going to work, we’ll discuss it later,” Mom replied.

Hameeda’s eyes sparkled with hope as she said, “Insha’Allah, may everything turn out well.”

“Indeed, Hameeda. May Allah help us. We’ll find you a good man soon,” Mom affirmed.

A hundred Naira for fifty grams of wheat flour, thirty for sugar, and twenty for yeast. Together with her mother, Hameeda prepared the dough, kneading it while reciting verses from the Qur’an with devotion.

By 7:30, they finished, and her mother instructed her to head to work. As she left, the carpool arrived, and they bid farewell. Hameeda, designated as Hajjiya Gaisawa’s assistant, walked briskly, knowing she had only thirty minutes to spare.

“Mama, the young girl says she’ll continue her studies if given the chance,” Hameeda reported, looking up at her mother.

Murmuring to herself, Mom replied, “Well, even if she has the chance, will she be able to continue? That’s uncertain.”

Upon hearing this, Mom decided to start making lunch for Hajjiya, signaling to Sadeeq’s driver to deliver it. Not wanting to disturb their conversation, she quietly entered the kitchen, where Sadeeq’s maid was already preparing. Not wanting to delay, she quickly adjusted her hijab, then turned to her maid and said, “Come, let’s make sure Sadeeq has his lunch.”

As they worked, Sadeeq, sitting at the dining table, observed his darling mother. She was lost in thought, diligently focusing on slicing the vegetables. Each movement of hers, delicate and precise, caught his attention. Finally, breaking the silence, he asked, “Will you please forgive me? I didn’t mean to upset you. I know I’m impatient, but you must understand, I’m worried.”

“Please, have patience. I swear by Allah, I don’t doubt your intentions, but impatience only leads to trouble. However, your persistence is commendable, just like your father’s,” she replied, gently.

A smile played on Sadeeq’s lips as he said, “And you, you’re just like him, too, always the voice of reason.”

 

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