EPISODE SEVEN
Mrs. Shola: Something is definitely fishy here.
M.K.: You’re not the only one. I don’t even know why I suddenly feel so… indifferent.
Hazeemah: (moves closer to her husband and whispers) Please, let’s go home. I’ll prepare a delicious meal for you. You can take a shower and rest. Please. (gives him a sad look)
M.K.: (sighs heavily and looks her in the eye)
Mrs. Shola: (suddenly gets up) I’m heading to my house. I need to freshen up and get enough rest. You two should do the same—you look even more miserable than I do. (walks out of the room, with security guards following her)
Hazeemah: Shall we? (stretches out her hand) Let’s go home.
M.K.: (looks at her once more, then takes her hand gladly and heads out with her. He remains silent as they get into the car)
Hazeemah: I know you’re not happy with everything, but I’m sure your dad will explain everything once he’s home safely. Stop overthinking. (suddenly grabs the car key from his hand) I’ll drive.
M.K.: What are you doing? Can you even drive?
Hazeemah: Of course! My father taught me. I used to drive his old car a lot. I miss him.
M.K.: Look, madam, give me the car key! There’s no way I’m letting a woman drive me.
Hazeemah: Seriously? I’m your wife. I’m not going to get us killed.
M.K.: I never said you would. It’s just that—you know what? Never mind. I’ll call my driver.
Hazeemah: (says nothing, turning toward the window as she hands him the key)
M.K.: (stares at her for a moment) Are you upset?
Hazeemah: (doesn’t respond)
M.K.: Why do you feminists get upset over every little thing? It’s like your hormones don’t consider the situation we’re in. (waits for a reply, but she remains silent) Okay, okay, I promise—you’ll drive next time. Look, I’m too weak for this. (starts the car) You’re still making my meal, right?
At M.K.'s house (dining room)
Hazeemah: (serves his meal without saying a word)
M.K.: (notices her silence) Oh, come on. Are you still mad at me?
Hazeemah: Enjoy your meal. Eat well. I’m going to take a shower.
M.K.: You’re not going to join me?
Hazeemah: I already showered… in the kitchen. (leaves without another word)
M.K.: (mutters as he eats) Fine. We’ll settle this in bed. I’m starving anyway.
**********************************
An hour later
M.K.: I’m coming, hold on! (checks the camera) What is he doing here? (opens the door) Yes?
Reem: Good day, sir. How have you and your family been?
M.K.: Let’s skip the pleasantries. What brings you here?
Reem: Well, uh… Mrs. Fashola instructed me to drop these documents at your place. She wants you to review the current situation and the project we’re working on.
M.K.: (takes the documents) Alright, you may leave now. Thank you. (is about to shut the door when Reem speaks again)
Reem: Uh, sir! How is Hazeemah? I haven’t seen her since her wedding day.
M.K.: And what exactly should I do with that information?
Reem: Well… maybe I could say hello to her?
M.K.: (his expression changes) You’ve got some nerve. You want to see my wife? Should I call her for you? Or maybe you’ve found yourself a new job as her personal assistant?
Reem: Sir, I meant no harm. Hazeemah is just a friend. Anyway, it’s fine. I’ll leave now. Have a lovely day. (turns and leaves)
Hazeemah: (walks up to him) What’s going on? Who were you talking to?
M.K.: Oh, so you’re not mad at me anymore? Now you’re speaking to me? Great. Someone just dropped off these documents from the office.
Hazeemah: And who was that?
M.K.: It’s nonya.
Hazeemah: Nonya? Is that the name of a new employee?
M.K.: Nonya means none of your business. (starts climbing the stairs) Come meet me in the room. We need to talk.
Hazeemah: (furious) Well, I’m not coming! Whatever you want to say, say it here. (moves to the living room)
M.K.: (pauses briefly) Seriously? (continues upstairs)
**************************************************
A Few Hours Later
M.K.: (comes down the stairs and sees Hazeemah asleep on the couch. He moves closer, sits at the edge of the couch, and gently caresses her face) Look at her... so peaceful. Those lashes, those lips...
Hazeemah: (shifts her face for more comfort in her sleep)
M.K.: (suddenly scoops her up, cradling her against his chest) You’ll sleep better like this.
Hazeemah: (startled, waking up slowly) What are you doing? Why must you disturb me? Can’t you see I’m resting?
M.K.: Well, let’s rest together. I’m tired too, and I need your warmth to doze off.
Hazeemah: M.K., please, I really need this nap. Put me down—I’m visiting the hospital in an hour.
M.K.: We’re going together, so stop talking and let’s rest. (pecks her lips) Now hush.
Hazeemah: (groaning and frowning) Sometimes, you make me wish I were still single.
M.K.: Seriously? You’re not serious.
Hazeemah: (smirks) I’m kidding.
(They both burst into laughter. She rests her head on his chest.)
Hazeemah: Warning—since you want to be my couch, don’t move!
M.K.: Yes, ma’am.
Hazeemah: Couches don’t speak.
Two Hours Later
(The couple remains asleep in the living room, tangled in each other’s arms, enjoying their rest. Suddenly, M.K.’s phone begins ringing incessantly. He ignores it several times but finally picks up, frustrated.)
M.K.: (answers groggily) Who is this? (listens with his eyes closed) Yes? Uh-huh? Okay. Good to hear. Now get off the phone. (hangs up and pulls Hazeemah closer)
Hazeemah: Who was that, baby?
M.K.: One of Dad’s workers, saying he’s back home.
Hazeemah: (sits up excitedly) Are you serious? Alhamdulillah! He’s finally home safe.
M.K.: Yeah, whatever. Now, let’s get back to where we left off. (pulls her hand to lie down again)
Hazeemah: Continue what? See this man o! What happened to the guy who was crying for his father’s safe return? Now look at you when the good news comes. Please get up, let’s go welcome him.
M.K.: Hell no. He already has the son he needs. We’re going to your parents’ place first, so let’s finish our nap before we go. Come on, baby.
Hazeemah: (gets up, pulling at his arm) Get up! Get up, jor! We’ll continue this later tonight. (checks the time) It’s after 2, and we haven’t prayed Zuhr. Please, get up!
M.K.: You piss me off sometimes, I swear to God. (grumbles as he gets up) But we’re going to the hospital first.
***********************************
At Chief Aregbeshola’s Mansion
The mansion buzzed with activity as guests gathered to welcome Chief Aregbeshola’s return. Despite the commotion, the chief chose to stay in his room, undergoing a medical checkup by his personal doctor. His first son, Mubarak, was seated beside him.
Mubarak: (whispers to one of the officers near him)
Chief Aregbeshola: Why haven’t any of my other children shown up yet? They know I’ve returned.
Mubarak: Why worry about them instead of focusing on getting better? Your blood pressure is high. I’m here. Isn’t that enough?
Mrs. Shola: (bursts into the room) Dad! (rushes to embrace him on the bed) Thank God you’re home safe. I was so worried!
Chief Aregbeshola: (weakly) I’m here now... Where’s M.K.?
Mubarak: I’m right here, Dad.
Mrs. Shola: (glares at Mubarak furiously) Dad, you have a lot of explaining to do… after you recover. Just seeing him here pisses me off!
Mubarak: (chuckles) Really? Funny how the feeling is mutual.
Chief Aregbeshola: That’s enough from both of you. We’ll discuss this later. Just tell me, why hasn’t M.K. arrived yet?
Mrs. Shola: He should be on his way by now.
Mubarak: (gets up angrily and storms out of the room)
Mrs. Shola: (watches him leave furiously, hisses, and turns back to her father) Dad!
Chief Aregbeshola: I know. It’s time I let the cat out of the bag… I don’t have much time left in this world.
Mrs. Shola: (sighs heavily and looks away)
Later in the Day
M.K.: (putting on his sneakers) Babe! I’m ready to go. Hurry up! (no response) Fine, whatever. Next time, I’m sure you can drive yourself if you keep ignoring me. (still no response) I’m heading out. (opens a drawer) Hmm, which one to take? (finally picks a car key) It’s been a while since I drove this old one. (his phone rings; he quickly answers) Yes?
Mrs. Shola: Where have you been? Dad’s been waiting for you.
M.K.: What’s the drama? Mubarak’s with him.
Mrs. Shola: All I know is he’s asking for you. You wouldn’t want to keep him waiting. What happened to the guy who was crying for his father’s safe return?
M.K.: He died three days ago.
Mrs. Shola: Whatever. Just hurry up. He’s not eating your name.
M.K.: (hangs up) Hazeemah! Are you ready to go? (about to climb the stairs when he hears a loud scream from the bedroom) Hazeemah! (dashes up the stairs and barges into the room) What? What happened? Why did you scream like that?
(He finds her on her knees, tears streaming down her face, her expression one of utter shock.)
M.K.: (panicking) What happened? Talk to me!
Hazeemah: (still in shock, whispers) Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un… La hawla wa la quwwata illa billah…
M.K.: (runs to her) Baby! What happened? (notices her phone shattered on the ground) Oh no. Don’t tell me— (his mind races as he gently sits beside her and holds her)
Hazeemah: (crying bitterly) My Abu! My Abu!
M.K.: (holding her tightly, his voice heavy with emotion) I’m so sorry, baby…
(He feels her pain deeply and doesn’t let go as she sobs uncontrollably in his arms.)
In the Bedroom
(Hazeemah is in her bedroom, standing in front of her wardrobe, distracted as she picks out clothes. Her thoughts wander as she contemplates her future with M&S Company amidst the family drama.)
Hazeemah: (mutters to herself) Why can’t I just start my own company as an architect? That would be amazing. It doesn’t have to be big—just something of my own.
(She pauses, staring at the bed, then sits down, her face lighting up with determination.)
Hazeemah: Yes! I could make this work. It’ll be small at first, but at least it will be mine. No more working under my husband’s family. But... I can’t tell M.K. yet. He might misunderstand, and the last thing I want is more conflict.
(She lies back, gazing at the ceiling as the idea takes root in her mind.)
Hazeemah: This is my mission. I’ll achieve it, no matter what. I need to stay focused and vigilant. I can’t believe it—I’m going to be my own boss!
(Her phone suddenly rings, pulling her back to reality. Startled, she quickly sits up.)
Hazeemah: Subhanallah! I need to hurry—we’re running out of time.
(She picks up the phone and glances at the caller ID.)
Hazeemah: Oh, it’s my brother. (answers the call) As-salam alaykum wa rahmatullah.
(Her expression changes as her heart begins to race. Her voice becomes anxious.)
Hazeemah: I can’t hear you clearly. What did you say?
(She suddenly stands, her body tense as she listens. Her face pales.)
Hazeemah: What happened to Dad?!
(The phone slips from her hand, smashing to the ground. She collapses onto her knees, tears streaming down her face as the shock consumes her.)
Hazeemah: No... No...
(From downstairs, M.K.’s voice echoes up to the bedroom.)
M.K.: Hazeemah! Are you ready to go?
(Her anguish explodes as she screams.)
Hazeemah: NO!!!
Watch out for the next episode!