Chapter 1:
They were all seated around the dining table, the five members of the household, having dinner in an atmosphere full of care and affection. There were two beautiful little girls and a young lady who looked about seventeen. She was extremely pretty, with a well-shaped body. Even though she was sitting down, it was clear that she was of medium height — not short, not tall — and her complexion was perfectly balanced, neither light-skinned nor dark. You could simply call her a "water-melon beauty." Her figure was full and well-formed.
The young lady, who was the wife of the head of the house and herself no more than twenty-five, looked at her and said,
> "Hameed, it seems something's wrong with your little sister Umaimah. For the past few days, she hasn't looked cheerful. Haven't you noticed?"
He set down his spoon, raised his head and looked at Umaimah, who had her eyes lowered, then said,
> "It must be because she's been thinking about your mother, right?"
She quickly nodded.
> "Honestly, Uncle, I don't know why, but all these years since I lost my parents, I never really felt the pain—until these past few days…"
She stopped talking because tears were welling up inside her. The two small children, about three and five years old, moved close and hugged her. The older one said,
> "Aunty Umah, don't be sad. We don't want you to be sad. See—you've even lost weight! Daddy, look, she's thinner, right?"
He smiled, stood up, and said,
> "It's okay, she'll be fine. You two go to bed now; we'll talk later because I'm tired. Umaimah, make me a list of the things you need—I can see the month's far spent, and you probably don't have what you need."
She lowered her head shyly and said with a small smile,
> "Please, Uncle, leave it. I feel embarrassed."
Aunty Sadiya stood up, heading toward her room, saying,
> "You just can't stop pampering those girls. Anyway, I'm off to bed. Don't disturb me—I'm tired. Tomorrow I'll be going to a seminar in Lagos."
Not only Hameed but even Umaimah turned to look at her. Sadiya turned back quickly and caught them looking, and Umaimah immediately looked away. Sadiya smiled and locked her bedroom door.
Hameed turned, feeling pained by how his wife behaved toward him in front of Umaimah, who was like a younger sister to him. Hameed and Umaimah had grown up together — their parents were the same. When Umaimah's parents died in a car accident between Damaturu and Kano, only she and her elder sister Jameelah were left. Because Hameed and Umaimah had always been close, when Jameelah got married, Hameed asked to take care of her younger sister. His parents hesitated but finally agreed.
At first, his wife Sadiya didn't mind; she thought having Umaimah in the house would make things easier for her. She quickly realized that the girl was clean, hardworking, and obedient. Umaimah became the one who did almost everything in the house — cooking, cleaning, taking care of the children. When she woke up in the morning, she would bathe the kids, dress them for school, and help Hameed get ready before he dropped them off. She had already finished secondary school and was waiting for her exam results.
He sighed, entered his room, took a shower, and lay down, turning restlessly with heavy thoughts.
Meanwhile Umaimah, after putting the children to sleep, lay down, turned on her phone, and began listening to a Qur'an recitation by Sheikh Sulaiman. She eventually fell asleep.
The next morning, being a Monday, she woke up early, bathed Nihal and Maliha, dressed them in their uniforms, packed their lunch boxes, and served them tea just as their parents came out of their separate rooms.
Sadiya, rushing, took a sip of tea and said,
> "Uncle, I'm leaving now. I might stay a week. Umaimah, take care of Nihal and Maliha. The weather there is cold, but I'll be fine."
She turned, saying as she left,
> "Bye, my love."
Hameed said nothing—just watched her go, his eyes dull with hidden pain. Then he stood up, picked up his laptop bag, pulled some money from his pocket, and dropped it on the dining table.
> "Here—just in case you or the kids need anything."
Quietly, she replied,
> "Thank you, Uncle. But I'd like to go make my hair today."
He turned sharply.
> "No. I don't want you going out. And you know I don't like those hairstyles."
She didn't take it to heart.
> "Alright, Uncle. Thank you."
Then she began cleaning the house. When everything was spotless, she sat in the living room watching TV. Around noon, she went into the kitchen to cook lunch. She wore jeans and a white shirt, her hair tied back with a black ribbon—she looked stunning.
The children came home from school, shouting joyfully, hugging her. She lifted them playfully, spinning them around, laughing, completely forgetting that their Uncle was standing there. When she bent down to remove Maliha's shoes, his eyes unconsciously rested on her chest. A strange shock ran through him. He couldn't take his eyes off her and felt an overwhelming urge to touch her just once to relieve the burning tension inside.
She suddenly looked up and caught his gaze. Realizing himself, he rubbed his head, embarrassed, and forced a smile.
> "Babe, you've really grown up. You're thriving, huh?"
She smiled back.
> "Uncle, you're funny."
Then she lifted the kids, placed them at the dining table, and fed them while joking with them. Hameed sat down, unable to eat. A dangerous desire was rising inside him. Finally, he got up and went into his room, unable to go back to the office that day.
Lying down, he tossed and turned, thinking about how things had changed with Sadiya. She no longer cared for him as a wife. She was always busy—work, work, work. It had been almost three months since they last slept together, and every time he tried, she made excuses or even cried, accusing him of wanting to ruin her body.
He eventually gave up. When the urge became too strong, he would squeeze lemon or bitter herbs, drink, and lie back down, sometimes even crying from the pain in his stomach that came from suppressing himself.
Days passed like that. Umaimah kept caring for the kids lovingly, and because of their closeness since childhood, they barely missed their mother.
One night, Hameed was lying on his bed, his stomach aching terribly. He hadn't gone to work for two days. He heard the doorbell, didn't get up, but gave permission for the person to come in. The door opened, and Umaimah stepped inside, greeting him softly. She approached his bed, where he lay with his legs crossed and eyes half-closed, and knelt beside him, saying…