30 MINUTES LATER
HANEEFAH: (opens the door, worried) Brother Abdulrasheed. Are you still telling me my husband hasn’t returned? It’s past nine now.
GATE MAN: (walks closer and points at the car)
HANEEFAH: He’s back? Since when? Then where is he?
GATE MAN: (whispers) More than thirty minutes now, and....
HANEEFAH: (quickens her steps to the car, tries to open it but it’s locked) Baby. (knocks)
ANAS: (opens his eyes, sighs, then unlocks the door)
HANEEFAH: (enters and closes the door) As-salamu alaykum, my love. What happened? Why did you take so long?
ANAS: Wa alaykum salam. (low tone)
HANEEFAH: What’s wrong? Why is the car so messy? Are you okay? (touches his forehead)
ANAS: I’m okay. (looks away)
HANEEFAH: But you don’t look okay, baby. What happened? Talk to me. (touches his forehead again)
ANAS: I’m just tired. That’s all.
HANEEFAH: Baby… oya, let’s go inside. Your food will get cold.
ANAS: You go. I’ll join you soon. I just want to stay like this for a few more minutes, please.
HANEEFAH: (caresses his chest) Now I’m worried. Did something happen? Talk to me.
ANAS: Haneefah, please. I said I want to be alone. Please.
HANEEFAH: (goes silent for a few seconds) Okay then. I’ll be here with you. The house is crowded right now with the idea I shared this morning. In fact, they’ve already started preparations and are waiting for your presence to pick a date. Ummu Nusaybah has also been discharged. She’s okay, but not as jovial. Her husband prepared their dinner.
ANAS: (no response, eyes closed)
HANEEFAH: (scans him from head to toe) Baby, I....
ANAS: (cuts in) Haneefah, please.
HANEEFAH: (startled, watches him for a moment, then opens the door and steps out)
ANAS: Baby, I...... Babe!!.
HANEEFAH: (enters the mansion)
ANAS: (stares at the glass)
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THE NEXT MORNING (4:53 AM)
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HANEEFAH: (tries to turn to the other side for comfort, then notices her husband behind her, his hand on her baby bump. She gently sits up and removes his hand, preparing to get down)
ANAS: (thick voice, half-asleep) Baby, I’m sorry now.
HANEEFAH: (pauses, smiling inwardly) At least let go of my tummy. I want to use the bathroom.
ANAS: (groans as he sits up) Alhamdulillahi ladhi ahyana ba‘da ma amatana wa ilayhin nushur. (sighs) I’m sorry for last night. (rubs her bump) I’m really sorry.
HANEEFAH: (tries not to soften, grabs her waist and kneels in front of him on the bed) What?
ANAS: Listen to me. I’ll tell you why I was down last night and why I came home late.
HANEEFAH: (folds her arms, looks away) I’m listening.
ANAS: I had a small accident yesterday, on my way back. I almost hit a trailer, but Alhamdulillah, my time wasn’t up yet.
HANEEFAH: (gasps, overwhelmed, checks his body) Subhanallah. Show me. How could you hide this from me? What if something had happened to you? (breaks down in tears)
ANAS: Because of this. (points at her face) Because I knew how worried you would be.
HANEEFAH: (sobbing)
ANAS: I was the one involved in the accident, yet you’re the one crying. This is why I didn’t want to tell you. I only had a small cut on my toe. I drove myself to the hospital for treatment and medication.
HANEEFAH: (still checking him) Where is it? Show me. Please don’t ever hide anything from me again. How could you do this to me? While I was talking carelessly last night, you were in pain?
ANAS: I’m fine. My body just aches a little, but I’m better now. There’s nothing to worry about.
HANEEFAH: (in tears) I don’t want to lose you. I’ll die too. Seeing you in pain is never my desire. How could you hide your pain from me?
ANAS: (takes a deep breath, holds her hands) Baby, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting myself unintentionally and for hiding my pain. Now please stop crying, for Allah’s sake.
HANEEFAH: Even apart from the accident, you barely touch me. You’re always exhausted whenever I’m around you, like you want to get rid of me. When was the last time you made love to me? I’ve given you signs, but it feels like I’m no longer attractive to you. And I’m carrying your child.
ANAS: (shocked) How did we get here? Why must I apologize for everything now? These hormones are frustrating me.
HANEEFAH: It’s fine then. You owe me no explanation. You’re fine now, right? Alhamdulillah for that. (tries to get down)
ANAS: (grabs her hand)
HANEEFAH: What now? Am I draining you mentally? I’m trying to be a good wife, to be there for you, but you keep pushing me away. Why is it always like this after marriage? Anas, I’m carrying your child. I’m eight months gone. I only want to make you happy. Why are you avoiding me? Why don’t you want to touch me?
ANAS: I am touching you now.
HANEEFAH: (looks at him) You know what I mean.
ANAS: Alright. Listen. You will always be my beautiful wife. No one can replace you in my heart. I just don’t want to be selfish, demanding intimacy while you’re heavily pregnant. It would be too much for you alone. I kept quiet because I didn’t want to worry you. Everything I do is out of love. Please, for Allah’s sake, try to see the brighter side.
HANEEFAH: (exhales) But I miss you. I want you. I want all of you. (caresses him, kisses him)
ANAS: (holds her waist) Are you sure?
HANEEFAH: I am. I want all of you.
ANAS: (gently stops her) Wallahi, I want you badly. But you said I shouldn’t hide anything. The truth is my body aches badly from the accident. I feel like I lifted a mountain. By tonight, I should feel better and be ready for you. Please don’t take it badly.
HANEEFAH: (lets go gently and smiles) You’re right. I almost forgot you’re not fully strong yet. No problem, dear. I need to ease myself anyway. (enters the bathroom)
ANAS: Are you sure you’re not angry?
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Haneefah’s pov
After everything that happened, I felt like my marriage was slowly crashing. My husband had become distant, not harsh and not cruel, just far away in a way that hurt quietly. Deep inside me, I knew something was troubling him, something heavy he had not found the courage to say out loud yet.
Still, I reminded myself to be patient. I had to be there for him. I could not allow my emotions to take control of me again, not after what happened the last time. So I focused on finding my balance, holding myself together, learning how to be a good wife even in silence, and controlling the storm of feelings around me.
Then the news of the family picnic came up.
The entire family gathered for a meeting. We discussed the picnic, how it would be, the place to rent, and the arrangements. Everything was carefully planned, and for the first time in a while, there was a sense of excitement in the air. Chief was especially happy about the idea. He looked genuinely excited, and that alone gave me a little hope.
A date was fixed, Saturday, a week away.
Preparations began immediately. Chief, the wives, and husband's came together to make arrangements except for my husband who was busy and was never available for such gathering. Chief instructed all of us not to stress ourselves or do too much. Instead, he ordered a private chef to handle all the meals for the picnic. Everything was taken care of. All that was left was to wait and hope that the day would turn out beautiful, something memorable for every one of us.
Yet, something still felt off.
My senior wife, Zainab, had been distant for a while. She barely showed up for family gatherings, and everyone noticed. Even during the preparations, she was absent. She did not attend the meeting at all. I felt concerned. I wanted to be closer to her, to understand what she was going through, to know why she was withdrawing.
But with the weight of recent losses and unspoken pain hanging in the air, I did not know how to reach her.
All I could do was hope that the picnic would bring healing, closeness, and answers we were all silently searching for.
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Friday morning 9:34am
ZAINAB: (climbs the stairs and bumps into one of her children) Where are you running to?
TAIYE: Nowhere, mummy. (laughs and happily runs down the stairs) Kehinde. Where are you? I’ll find you. (laughing)
ZAINAB: (watches him, smiling softly) Kids, ehn?
(She looks up and notices her husband stepping out of his new bedroom. Her smile fades. She looks away and tries to walk past him.)
JAMIU: Aha. Didn’t you feel my presence, Zainab?
ZAINAB: (ignores him and keeps walking)
JAMIU: Zainab. Walking out again, abi? You can’t avoid me forever. You’re still my wife.
ZAINAB: (reaches Aishat’s room and knocks) Ummu Nusaybah? Are you there? As-salamu alaykum. (no response) Hello?
JAMIU: (grabs her hand from behind) I’m talking to you and you’re walking away?
ZAINAB: (turns slowly and fixes him with a deadly stare, says nothing)
JAMIU: (finally lets go) I’m still your husband in this house, no matter how long you try to deny it. We’re still married. It’s been four months now.
ZAINAB: (hisses and continues knocking) Ummu Nusaybah, are you there? I just want to check on you.
RAHMAH: (appears suddenly) Baby. I’ve been looking for you. (pauses, eyes Zainab) What are you doing with her?
JAMIU: She’s still my wife. So what kind of question is that?
RAHMAH: After you said you never wanted anything to do with her again?
ZAINAB: (chuckles bitterly, notices the door slightly open, enters quickly, and slams it shut in his face)
RAHMAH: You see? Even she doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. So stop it.
JAMIU: Why were you looking for me?
RAHMAH: (stretches out her hand) Your phone was ringing. It’s your boss.
JAMIU: Ehn? (snatches the phone) Why didn’t you bring it faster?
RAHMAH: You were busy with your past, remember?
JAMIU: I don’t blame you. (walks away)
(Inside the room)
ZAINAB: (rests her head against the door, breathing heavily, hand on her chest)
AISHAT: (comes out of the bathroom, drying herself) I’m so sorry. I heard your voice but I was bathing, that’s why. Don’t mind me. (smiles weakly)
ZAINAB: It’s alright. I saw your husband leave, so I decided to come check on you. How are you feeling now? Any pain anywhere? (sits on the bed)
AISHAT: Hmm. I’m better. Just dealing with depression, but I’ll be fine.
ZAINAB: I think you need this picnic more than anyone in this house. You’ve been indoors all this while.
AISHAT: Abi now. I have a good feeling about it. I loved the idea from day one. It’s exactly what we all need.
ZAINAB: (hesitates) Actually… about that… I don’t think I’ll be going.