EPISODE TWENTY-TWO
LATER THAT NIGHT
(Hazeemah drives to the supermarket to buy some foodstuffs. Exhausted, she returns home alone to prepare dinner for her husband. As she reaches the gate, she honks and waits for the security guard to open it.)
Security Guard: (Peeks through the gate, then hurriedly opens it) I’m sorry for the delay, ma.
Hazeemah: It’s alright. (Drives in.)
Security Guard: (Closes the gate and quickly runs to meet her) Welcome, ma. (Bows slightly.)
Hazeemah: (Weakly) Sir, I’ve told you not to bow before me. I am a human being just like you. Please, don’t do that.
Security Guard: I’m so sorry, ma’am. I’ll be mindful next time.
Hazeemah: Can you help me carry these foodstuffs to the kitchen, please?
Security Guard: Definitely, ma.
Hazeemah: Thank you. (She walks tiredly into the house, collapses onto the first couch she sees, and sighs heavily.) It’s almost time for Isha prayer...
Scene: Three Hours Later
(Hazeemah hears her name being called from a distance.)
M.K: (Finally finds her asleep on the prayer mat) Hazeemah! (Taps her gently.) What are you doing?
Hazeemah: (Quickly gets up) Subhanallah! I can’t believe I dozed off after Isha.
M.K: Are you serious? Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you at the hospital? I kept calling, but it turns out you left your phone with Najat.
Hazeemah: I’m so sorry. I was just so tired. I didn’t even realize when I fell asleep… Besides, it hasn’t been that long—just a 30-minute nap.
M.K: (Fuming, turns to the wall clock) What is this?!
Hazeemah: (Gasps, rubs her eyes, and stares at the clock in shock) Subhanallah! I slept for three hours? But… it felt like just 30 minutes.
M.K: It’s past 11! (Falls onto the bed.) Still, go make me dinner. I’m starving.
Hazeemah: Okay, sir. I’m really sorry about that. (She quickly folds the prayer mat and rushes downstairs.)
Scene: In the Kitchen (45 Minutes Later)
(Hazeemah struggles with the turning stick as she prepares swallow.)
M.K: (Enters the kitchen, looking impatient) I don’t think I can endure this hunger any longer. I feel like I might pass out! (Pauses, sniffs the air) What are you cooking?
Hazeemah: Amala with Abula and all kinds of meat—your favorites.
M.K: Why would you make such a heavy meal? It’s too late for this! I can’t eat that.
Hazeemah: (Glances at him, unimpressed) You just said you’re starving, and now you’re being picky?
M.K.: Why would you make this, knowing I don’t like Nigerian food that much?
Hazeemah: Get used to it. I asked you earlier what you wanted, and you said, “Anything.”
M.K: Yeah, but—
Hazeemah: (Cuts in) I’ll serve the meal now. This is your fatherland and motherland’s food. Get used to it.
M.K.: I’ll pass… Maybe I’ll just order some bur—
Hazeemah: (Shoots him a deadly glare) You wouldn’t dare! I used the little energy I had left to prepare one of the best meals in Nigeria, and you’re about to reject it for street food?! (Takes a deep breath, then lowers her voice) Listen, it’s been a long day. Let’s eat and go to bed. Please. I’m so exhausted, I might pass out. For the sake of Allah, just move to the dining table while I serve your meal. I know I messed up by dozing off, but please… don’t start something you can’t finish.
M.K: (Sighs) There’s no point arguing with you. This food better taste amazing. (Opens the refrigerator, grabs a drink, and exits the kitchen.)
Hazeemah: (Sighs, returns to stirring the amala.) Okay, sir…
Scene: 30 Minutes Later
(Hazeemah licks her plate, satisfied.)
Hazeemah: So, how was it?
M.K: It’s okay… I just haven’t adapted to the taste yet.
Hazeemah: How will you, when you’re using a spoon to eat swallow?
M.K.: (Shakes his head and pulls out his phone.) Oyegbami’s kidney matches with Shola’s.
Hazeemah: (Pauses, stunned) Are you serious? (Quickly rinses her hands and drags her chair closer.) So what’s next?
M.K.: He volunteered. The surgery is scheduled for tomorrow.
Hazeemah: Wait! You’re saying Mrs. Shola’s ex-husband is ready to donate his kidney to his ex-wife?
M.K.: I’m as shocked as you are. I was dumbfounded.
Hazeemah: Wow! This is unbelievable.
M.K.: I guess love doesn’t always fade after a breakup.
Hazeemah: So… does that mean he still loves her? Masha Allah! Now, that’s a real man.
M.K.: Hmm… hmmm.
Hazeemah: Alhamdulillah. I’m so happy to hear this. Finally, Mrs. Shola will be back on her feet in no time. Sometimes I wonder why they even divorced in the first place.
M.K.: It’s complicated… Anyway, I’m off to bed.
Hazeemah: At least let your food digest first.
*********************************
oticing her stirring) You… you’re awake… She’s awake! (Runs out of the room, shouting excitedly) Doctor! Nurse! She’s awake! (Rushes back in, breathless, and moves closer to her.) Welcome back, ma’am.
Miss Shola: (Weakly, struggling to speak) You… you…
RHW: Yes, ma’am. I’m still here. How do you feel? At least now you can talk—that’s a good sign of improvement. Thank goodness.
Miss Shola: Where is…?
RHW: I guess you’re asking about your family? They went downstairs to clear some medical bills.
Miss Shola: What about my… child?
RHW: She’s with her dad in the next room.
Miss Shola: (Surprised, her voice barely above a whisper) Her dad… is still here?
(Just then, the doctor enters with two nurses.)
Doctor: Well, look who we have here—our strong woman! How are you feeling?
Miss Shola: (Nods weakly, forcing a dry smile) Much better than before, but I…
Doctor: No need to say more. The rest will improve with time. The surgery was a complete success.
Miss Shola: I’m thirsty.
Doctor: I understand how you feel, but you can’t take anything for now except the IV fluids.
RHW: (Frowns) Doc, that’s not fair now! She hasn’t eaten in days, and now that she’s awake, you’re still saying no?
Doctor: (Rubs his head, sighing) She’ll be fine. It’s for her own good—to help her heal faster. (Moves closer to Miss Shola and begins a routine check-up.)
RHW: But won’t she waste away like this? Look at her! She’s almost a skeleton already.
Miss Shola: Grace… please.
RHW: I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m just looking out for you.
Miss Shola: (Weakly) Please… can you get my child?
(At that moment, M.K. and Hazeemah enter the room. The exhaustion on their faces disappears the moment they see Miss Shola awake.)
Hazeemah: Alhamdulillah, she’s awake!
M.K.: (Moves closer, gently kisses her forehead, and whispers) I’m so glad you’re getting better. I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if…
Miss Shola: (Smiles weakly and whispers back) It’s okay…
(Hazeemah moves closer to her husband. Miss Shola reaches out and takes Hazeemah’s hand.)
Miss Shola: Thank you… for everything.
Hazeemah: It was our responsibility to take care of you. And… we’re really sorry for everything.
(The doctor finishes the check-up and straightens up.)
Doctor: She needs more time to rest. It would be best if we limit visitors to just one person. (Exits the room.)
M.K.: Alright, Doctor. Thank you so much.
Miss Shola: My daughter… please.
(Hazeemah and M.K. exchange glances.)
Hazeemah: Uhm… about that… I think… I mean… she’s with her dad at the moment.
Miss Shola: (Tenses, her voice slightly rising) And you let her leave with him?!
M.K.: Not exactly. He’s also recovering right now. He kept asking for his daughter, and…
Miss Shola: So his life is more precious than mine?!
M.K.: Please, take it easy. You’re not strong enough for this stress. Just relax and focus on getting better. Please.
Miss Shola: I want my daughter, and that’s final! I don’t care what you say. I can only recover properly if she’s beside me. Do you even know how he barely lets me see her, let alone spend time alone with my child?!
(Hazeemah sighs and glances at M.K.)
Hazeemah: Alright then. I think it’s time we tell her… Miss Shola, we tried everything to find a kidney donor for you. We even volunteered, but none of us were a match. We were running out of time, and your condition kept worsening. We were desperate. Then… your ex-husband showed up with your daughter. He volunteered to donate his kidney.
(Miss Shola’s eyes widen in shock.)
Hazeemah: It was a shock to us too. At first, we didn’t believe him. But… after the surgery was done, it was real. He risked his life to save yours. And as for your daughter, she’s with him in the VIP room, helping him recover. (Exhales deeply.) That’s the truth.
(Miss Shola stares in stunned silence, struggling to process the information. Her breathing slows, and her chest tightens.)
M.K.: (Noticing her reaction, alarmed) Shola?! (Taps her shoulder gently.) Are you okay?
(Miss Shola finally exhales loudly, as if releasing a breath she didn’t know she was holding.)
M.K.: (Sighs in relief.)
Miss Shola: What your wife just said… is she pranking me?
M.K.: (Shakes his head) No, she’s not.
(Miss Shola turns to her right-hand woman, RHW, who silently nods in confirmation.)
(Silence fills the room as Miss Shola tries to come to terms with everything.)
**********************************
Inside Abdulrasheed’s Office
(Hazeemah hesitates before knocking softly and entering.)
Abdulrasheed: Yes, come in.
Hazeemah: (Steps inside, forcing a polite smile) Good morning, sir. You called me?
Abdulrasheed: (Gesturing impatiently) Close my door. Or do you want to stand there like a statue?
Hazeemah: (Quickly shuts the door) I’m sorry, sir.
Abdulrasheed: (Leaning back in his chair, arms crossed) I’m listening.
Hazeemah: (Hesitant) Uhmm…
Abdulrasheed: (Scoffs) So you’re going to act dumb now? I gave you work—important work—and I made it very clear how urgent it was. You had the guts to disappear the next day, and now, two weeks later, you just stroll back in like nothing happened? Who gave you that permission? Who the hell do you think you are?!
Hazeemah: (Takes a deep breath, keeping calm) I’m really sorry, sir. Something happened.
Abdulrasheed: (Slams his fist on the desk) I don’t give a damn about what happened! If it was that serious, you could’ve at least notified someone!
Hazeemah: But I—
Abdulrasheed: Shut the f#ck up! When I’m talking, you keep your dirty mouth shut!
Hazeemah: (Swallowing hard, lowering her gaze) I’m sorry, sir.
Abdulrasheed: If not for Chief Stan, I would’ve thrown you out of here already! Absolute rubbish!
Hazeemah: I’m sorry, sir…
Abdulrasheed: Sorry for yourself! Honestly, I don’t even know how on earth they hired someone like you. Just look at yourself—do you even belong here?
(Hazeemah stands silently, tired but composed.)
Abdulrasheed: (Eyeing her disdainfully) Look at you—can’t even dress properly. Money doesn’t care about your religion, woman! You think looking like that will get you anywhere? I pity the man who’d ever consider marrying someone like you.
Hazeemah: (Calmly) Actually… I am married, sir.
Abdulrasheed: (Chuckles mockingly) Well then, I pity that man. Must be hard for him.
Hazeemah: (Pauses, then tilts her head slightly) Are you married, sir?
Abdulrasheed: Yes. Happily married, for that matter.
Hazeemah: (Smirks slightly, lowering her voice) If you’re happy, sir… I’m not sure she is.
Abdulrasheed: (Narrowing his eyes, voice sharp) What did you just say?
Hazeemah: (Shakes her head, smiling faintly) Nothing, sir. I’m really sorry about everything. I’ll do my best to make it up to you.
Abdulrasheed: (Slamming his hand on the table) Just get out of my office! Now!
(Hazeemah nods, calmly opens the door, steps out, and closes it behind her—this time, with a quiet smile.)
Hazeemah: (Muttering to herself as she walks away, smirking) If only you knew… nothing can hurt me anymore.
Watch out for the next episode!!!
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