EPISODE SEVENTEEN
Scene: The Bedroom
(Hazeemah sits on the bed, lost in thought.)
Hazeemah: (to herself)
I can’t believe I just quit my job... I had to, but it still feels unreal. Maybe it’s time to change my mindset. Hazeemah, here’s the truth: you’ll never accomplish your dream as long as you’re working under your husband. You’ll never be your own boss.
And I love office work… What am I going to do now? Staying indoors all day isn’t my thing. I need to plan my way out of that company. But... staying indoors all the time will be so hard.
(The door opens gently, and M.K. enters, holding a bouquet of flowers in front of his face.)
Hazeemah: (raises her eyebrows, watching curiously)
What’s going on?
M.K.: (steps forward)
Milady... (presents the flowers) Do you like them?
Hazeemah: (smiles softly, trying to hold back laughter)
What are these for? Or do you want me to use them to make vegetable soup for you?
M.K.: (jaw drops in shock)
What?
Hazeemah: (bursts into laughter)
I’m sorry... But we’re Africans! (sniffs the flowers) These aren’t even real flowers. They smell like... ancient clothes. Why do white women sniff these like they’re paradise flowers? They don’t even have a scent!
M.K.: (shakes his head in disappointment)
You’re impossible. Anyway, let’s go. It’s time to explore the city together. We can also use the opportunity to find Salamah’s house.
Hazeemah: (smiles and stares at him)
So this is your way of making it up to me, huh?
M.K.:
Not just that, baby... (steps closer, holding her hands gently) I promise to change for good. I’ll always respect you as my wife and honor you like the queen you are. I’m sorry for being a pain in the ass.
Hazeemah: (smiles)
I’ve heard you. May Allah guide us to the right path.
M.K.:
Amin. (wraps his arm around her waist) So…
Hazeemah: (pulls away)
Don’t touch me.
M.K.:
Why?
Hazeemah:
Well, I’m on my period. And honestly, I’m not in the mood for romance. (frees herself and walks to the dressing room)
(M.K. watches her silently, deep in thought.)
M.K.: (to himself)
This isn’t funny anymore. So, she was right… I thought she was pregnant, but she’s not.
(Hazeemah removes her khimar and lays her dress on the bed.)
Hazeemah:
By the way, I have some advice for you. The person who actually needs to see a therapist... is you.
(M.K. stares at her for a moment before sitting down.)
Hazeemah: (noticing his silence while getting dressed)
Did I say something wrong again? Oh, I’m sorry! I swear, I didn’t mean it that way—
M.K.: (cuts in softly)
It’s fine. You’re actually right. (exhales deeply) The truth is, I don’t know why I’m like this. And whenever I am, I always end up hurting the people I love the most. (sighs) I’ll find time to see a therapist. Thanks for the advice.
Hazeemah: (pauses and stares at him briefly, then continues dressing)
M.K.: (stands up)
I’ll be waiting in the car, milady. (smirks and exits)
***********************************************************
Hazeemah and MK embarked on an adventure, exploring the city from one end to the other. MK was determined to make the day special for her. trying every means to put a smile on her face. As they wandered through different neighborhoods, communities and towns.they seized the opportunity to search for Salama's house.
Their journey had been ongoing for five hours, with the scorching sun beating down on them. Weary from the search and the stresses of the day, they finally decided to call it quits and head back home. As they made their way back, exhausted but hopeful, they reflected on their adventure... M.k ordered the driver to find a place to park.
Hazeemah: (leaning back, facing the window)
What an amazing yet stressful day.
M.K.:I can’t believe places like this still exist in Nigeria. It was quite an adventure. (glances at her and softly caresses her face) Should we go somewhere special tonight?
Hazeemah:Please, maybe next time.
M.K.: (thinking, trying to keep the conversation going)
So, tell me more about yourself. (smiles warmly)
Hazeemah: (gazes at him, tired)
Baby, if you really want to know me, you don’t need me to tell you. Just study me, and you’ll find the answers to all your questions.
(Suddenly, Hazeemah notices Salamah in the distance, dragging her luggage out of a gate, visibly upset and in tears.)
Hazeemah: (excitedly taps him multiple times)
Babe!
M.K.: (alert)What is it?
Hazeemah:Isn’t that Salamah?
M.K.: (focuses on the scene)Yeah... I think it’s her.
Hazeemah:I’m coming. Just give me a second. (hastily gets out of the car)
M.K.:Wait up! (follows her)
(They approach Salamah, who looks up in shock upon seeing them.)
Salamah: (wiping her tears, voice sharp)What are you doing here?
Hazeemah:Uh… are you moving out?
Salamah: (glares) I said, what do you want?
Hazeemah:Can we talk, please?
Salamah:Why would I ever want to talk to you? I’m sure you’re happy to see me like this. I lost my job because of you! I’ve done everything to show you how much I like you, how much I wanted to be your friend, but you’re wicked and selfish. You only care about your happiness!
Do you think you’re the only one who deserves a luxurious life and a happy marriage? Well, guess what? I hate you now. This is just the beginning. I lost my home, my job, and everything because of you. But one thing I won’t lose is the love of my life. I’ll do whatever it takes to have a place in your brother’s life—whether you like it or not.
M.K.: (firmly)Hey! Watch your words.
Hazeemah: (signals to her husband)Please, I’ve got this. Just wait for me in the car.
M.K.:I can’t leave you here.
Salamah: Because you think I’ll harm her, right? Well, guess what? I’m not a bad person! All I ever wanted was to be loved. Is that too much to ask? (speaks with pain as tears stream down her face) Now even my mom—whom I’ve been taking care of for years—has thrown me out because I couldn’t bring a man home to marry me!
Hazeemah: (turns to her husband) Please, just listen to me. Kindly excuse us.
M.K.: (sighs deeply) Fine. But I’m watching you two. (reluctantly heads back to the car)
Hazeemah: (gently moves closer to Salamah) Hey… I know you’re in pain right now, but we can settle this.
Salamah: Settle what? No one can separate me from Abdulrahman—not even your mom!
Hazeemah: But Allah can. Please, let’s sit over there and talk this out. Together, we’ll find a solution.
Salamah: You know nothing about me, and I don’t need your pity. I’ll be gone soon, so just go back to your husband and leave me alone.
Hazeemah: (steps closer, her voice calm) C’mon, Salamah… You’re taking this too—
(As Hazeemah tries to hold her hand, Salamah throws her hand off, unintentionally hitting Hazeemah in the face.)
M.K.: (rushing out of the car) Hazeemah!
Hazeemah: (quickly to her husband) Please don’t come closer!
Salamah: (sobbing) I said leave me alone! (picks up her belongings)
Hazeemah: (grabs her hand) Wallahi, I’m not here to fight with you. I’m not here to mock you or threaten you to leave my brother. I’m here to listen to your side of the story. I’m a woman, just like you, and I know how draining this can be. We’ve all been there. Please, just give me a chance to understand.
Salamah: (pauses, drops her bag, and hardens her expression) Fine. I’m listening. But make it quick—I don’t have time for this.
Hazeemah: Can we at least sit here while we talk?
(Salamah hesitates but nods slightly as the tension begins to ease.)
M.K.: (watches them from the car) Hazeemah... The way she thinks is so different from other women. I'm sure any other woman in her shoes wouldn't sit calmly next to a home-wrecker like that. They'd either be arrested for breaking each other's noses or one of them would end up in the hospital.
Hazeemah: (takes a deep breath) A’uzubillahi minash-shaitanir-rajeem. First, I want to say I’m so sorry for anything I’ve done to cause you pain in any way. Please forgive me. But I’m having this conversation with you today because it involves my brother. He has changed so much—toward his wife, his kids, even us—and it’s all because of you. Don’t get me wrong, okay?
I’ve known my brothers since I was a kid. They raised me; I’m the last-born in the house. I barely act like the youngest, though, because I was mostly raised by men—you understand what I mean. Abdulrahman is next after my dad. In fact, he is my dad in so many ways. I’m his “first daughter” because he takes such good care of me, even now. He’s a great man, and I understand why you’d want him.
But let me ask you an honest question, alright? Do you love Abdulrahman? And if so, why?
Salamah: Well, obviously, for all the reasons you just listed. Who wouldn’t love a man like that? I’m madly in love with him, and I don’t see the big deal in wanting to be his second wife.
Hazeemah: I never said there was. In fact, it’s Sunnah. But you can’t practice the Sunnah in the wrong way. Let me ask you another question. Do you really think my brother loves you for the sake of Allah and for who you truly are?
Salamah: (clears her throat) Of course. You can see that too.
Hazeemah: Are you sure?
Salamah: (furiously gets up) What are you trying to say? That I forced him to love me?
Hazeemah: Relax, okay? C’mon! I never even mentioned that. I guess your mind moves faster than my words. Please, sit down.
Salamah: (aggressively sits) Now what?
Hazeemah: Now, let me switch the situation for you, and I want you to think about how you’d react. Imagine if you were Abdulrahman’s wife—living your happiest life, married to him, bearing him pious children. For 10 years, your marriage has been your paradise. Then suddenly, everything changes.
Abdulrahman stops coming home, treats you like you don’t even exist, and turns from a good man into a monster—all because a woman out there is having an affair with him. You expected he might marry more wives—it’s allowed—but you never thought his desires would destroy your marriage. Then he threatens to divorce you because of his mistress. You know that isn’t the man you married. Something must have changed him. What would you do as Abdulrahman’s first wife? And for the record, you’re pregnant with his fifth child. How would you feel and react to that situation?
Salamah: I never told him to treat his wife badly. All I want is for him to love me and marry me. I’m not a home-wrecker.
Hazeemah: (smiles) I never said you were. But can you tell me when this “talking stage” started? Was it during the last company trip? Because I’m pretty sure he didn’t even think of you in that way before. So, since when?
Salamah: It’s been two months now.
Hazeemah: When did you two meet again after the trip?
Salamah: Why all these questions?
Hazeemah: I’m sorry, but we’re helping each other here.
Salamah: How are you helping me? Tell me! I know you’re here to tell me to leave him alone, but that can never happen. He can’t even survive without me.
Hazeemah: Exactly. You’ve finally said the truth yourself. But I’m not stopping you from joining the family. In fact, we’ll be there. I’ll even call a caterer—we’ll come and cook. Isn’t it just a wedding you want?
But let me tell you this: if he can do what he’s doing to his wife now, he’ll do worse to you if he chooses to marry a third wife. And if you’ve used something on him to turn him into this “crazy lovebird,” imagine the day it stops working. I just pray, on that day, he won’t pluck out your eyes and place them in your hands.
You can’t force love, Salamah. You’ll be the one to get hurt in the end—physically, mentally, and emotionally. There are men out there praying for a woman like you, but you’re too blind, forcing love. How will you even see them? Wake up, Salamah. Wake up.
That’s all I have to say. Sit and think well about our conversation. Ma’as-salamah. (She gets up, dusts off her clothes, and walks toward the car. Suddenly, she pauses, hearing her name being called.)
Abdulrahman: Hazeemah! (furiously gets out of his car) What are you doing here? How dare you come to see my wife-to-be? I think it’s high time I put you in your place.
M.K.: (steps out of the car too) Whoa, bro! You can’t say that.
Hazeemah: (holds her husband) Baby, no! Please, don’t say anything. Let’s go, please. Let’s just go.
Abdulrahman: Are you talking to me, Mr. M.K.?
Hazeemah: No, sir. He didn’t mean it that way. Please, I’m sorry on his behalf. And as for your wife-to-be, I promise never to stop her from marrying you again. Whatever makes you happy, makes me happy too. But today, I realized you don’t say your morning and evening adhkar. Please, it’s very important.
As-salam alaikum. (She enters the car, and the driver drives off.)
Abdulrahman: (runs to Salamah and embraces her) Are you okay? I was worried about you. What did she say to you?
Salamah: (gently retreats from his arms without saying a word)
Abdulrahman: Sweetheart, what happened? Talk to me.
M.K.: (admiring Hazeemah as the car moves away) My queen.
Hazeemah: What?
M.K.: You are indeed manipulative. And you use your talent well. You just changed her mind with a few words. You’re amazing. (Gently presents a rose) This is for you, my queen.
Hazeemah: (stares at him, then sighs heavily and looks out the window)
M.K.: Don’t you like it?
Hazeemah: Oh, should I smell another “ancient cloth,” abi?
Watch out for the next episode!
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