Adekunle: (driving) Yo… the weather looks good today. (phone rings) Oh, it’s Mom. (picks up) Yo, Mum! What’s up?
Mom: Where are you right now?
Adekunle: I’m driving, Mom.
Mom: Driving to where?
Adekunle: I want to hang out with my friend.
Mom: Good. Change that plan and come to my house right now.
Adekunle: What the hell? Mom, I just told you—
Mom: Let’s make this simple. If you go to your friend’s place, you can forget about eating my food again… and I cut ties with you.
Adekunle: What?! Mum!
Mom: Don’t you dare use that kind of language with me.
Adekunle: Alright… I’m sorry. I’m coming.
Mom: Right now.
Adekunle: Yes, right now.
Mom: Good. (hangs up)
Adekunle: Do you always have to yell? Seriously… (makes a U-turn)
(Curtain)
30 minutes later
Adekunle: (barges in) I’m home!
Mom: What took you so long?
Adekunle: Traffic, as usual… What did you cook? I’m starving.
Mom: Sit down.
Adekunle: Let me just check the kitchen—
Mom: (stares at him)
Adekunle: Okay, okay… I’m sitting. Gosh. Do you have to look at me like that? I just miss your food. (sits, scrolling on his phone)
Mom: My son… I called you here because I need to talk to you. I want a grandchild. Your father didn’t live to see one, and I don’t want the same fate. Have you thought about settling down?
(pauses, notices he isn’t listening) Adekunle!
Adekunle: Ma! Come on, don’t shout like that. I’m not a child.
Mom: You will always be my child. Now listen—what do you have to say about what I just said?
Adekunle: (half-smiles) You’re the one using harsh words now? Anyway… I understand. I’ll think about it.
Actually… there’s someone. A girl I met three months ago. She’s religious… and I think she’d make a good wife.
Mom: Religious? You must be joking. Those ones pretending just to get married—once they succeed, they turn into something else entirely. Not under my roof. I want a real girl, not all these “Salam-alaikum” girls wrapped in layers like that.
Adekunle: (stares at her, hurt) I can’t believe you’re saying this…
Anyway, I’m the one who will choose who I spend my life with. She’s amazing, Mom. I’ll bring her to visit soon—you’ll love her.
Mom: Don’t you dare bring her here dressed like that. I said I want a classy girl, not a village queen. Do you understand me?
Adekunle: But Mom, I love her. More than anyone I’ve ever been with. I haven’t even seen her naked or kissed her… she’s real.
Mom: You heard me. If you can’t find one, I will find one for you.
Adekunle: This is exactly what I don’t like about you. (stands up, walks away)
Mom: And where are you going while I’m talking?
Adekunle: Where does it look like? The kitchen, of course.
Mom: (chuckles) That’s my boy. Don’t finish the food! (follows him)
(Curtain)
Night
Adekunle: (falls on bed) What a stressful day… I need a shower. (phone rings) Who’s that? Oh… it’s her. What do I even say? (answers)
Khadijah: As-salamu alaykum, dear.
Adekunle: Wa alaykum salam.
Khadijah: I’ve told you not to shorten it like that. It’s not proper.
Adekunle: I’m not in the mood for this tonight, okay? You complain about everything—don’t you ever get tired?
Khadijah: (soft gasp) You’re using those words again…
Adekunle: This is exactly what I mean. You know what? My mom was right. People like you—pretenders.
Khadijah: Excuse me?
Adekunle: Yeah. You heard me. I’m done. I’m ending this relationship right now. I can’t marry you. My mom doesn’t even like girls like you. Find someone else. Goodbye. (hangs up)
Khadijah: Hello? Hello?!
Adekunle: (runs hand through hair) God… I really like this girl. What have I done? Maybe I should call Kelvin before I lose her for good. (dials)
Kelvin: Yo! What’s up, bro?
Adekunle: I’m good. You?
Kelvin: I’m great! You missed out today—mad fun with the girls.
Adekunle: Yeah… listen, I need your advice.
Kelvin: Go on. I’m listening.
Adekunle: My mom has been pressuring me to settle down. And there’s this girl… she’s different. Everything about her is.
Kelvin: Different how?
Adekunle: She’s religious, kind, gentle… but my mom doesn’t like that type.
Kelvin: That sounds like wife material to me. Bro, do what makes you happy. Good women are rare these days—you’ve found one. Don’t lose her trying to please your mom.
Adekunle: (quiet) I think… I already messed up.
Kelvin: Don’t tell me you did something stupid.
Adekunle: I… kind of broke up with her. Ten minutes ago.
Kelvin: What?! Why would you do that?
Adekunle: I don’t know… I just lost control. I don’t want to lose her, man. Help me.
Kelvin: (sighs) Okay… call her back. Tell her it was a prank—you wanted to see her reaction. Then apologize.
Adekunle: That’s brilliant! Thanks, bro.
Kelvin: Just fix it. (hangs up)
Adekunle: (takes a deep breath) I can do this… (calls repeatedly) Why isn’t she picking up? God… please pick up.
Khadijah: (finally answers, voice low) As-salamu alaykum…
Adekunle: Wa alaykum salam, baby.
Khadijah: (surprised) Oh… so you can say it properly. What do you want?
Adekunle: (softly) Baby… it was a prank. I just wanted to see your reaction.
Khadijah: A prank? Are you serious right now?
Adekunle: Yes… how could I end what we have like that? I love you.
Khadijah: Don’t ever do that again. Do you know what I went through? I was crying… I thought I had lost my future husband.
Adekunle: No, no… I want to marry you. I swear.
Khadijah: Then prove it.
Adekunle: Prove it?
Khadijah: Yes. Actions speak louder than words.
Adekunle: Okay… I’ll introduce you to my mom this weekend.
Khadijah: (excited) Are you serious?
Adekunle: I am.
Khadijah: Then I’ll believe you… when it happens.
Adekunle: It will. I love you.
Khadijah: I love you too. I should sleep now. See you tomorrow, insha Allah.
Adekunle: Goodnight, baby.
(call ends)
Adekunle: Wow… it actually worked. Kelvin is a genius. I almost lost her…
The next day
Adekunle: (on phone, impatient) I’m outside. What’s taking you so long?
Khadijah: I’m sorry, just one minute.
Adekunle: Seriously?
(Five minutes later, she runs toward the car)
Adekunle: One minute, huh?
Khadijah: I’m sorry, honey.
Adekunle: I’m already late for work. I came just to see you, and you kept me waiting. Is this how it’ll be in marriage?
Khadijah: I said I’m sorry…
Adekunle: It’s fine. Listen—about tomorrow… if you’re coming with me to see my mom, you’ll have to remove that long hijab and wear a scarf instead. Okay? Bye, I love you. (drives off)
Khadijah: (stunned) Wait… what?