The next day
Ummu: (dressing her grandchild) Look at you… aren’t you the cutest baby ever?
(The baby suddenly begins to cry.)
Ummu: Shhh… sorry, my baby… let me finish dressing you, then I’ll prepare your food. Please, stop crying…
Abu: (entering the room) Why is she crying?
Ummu: She’s hungry. I just want to dress her first.
Abu: Give her to me while you prepare her food… ahh, my grandchild… aren’t you the cutest baby? Masha Allah… look at you growing day by day… (pauses) that reminds me… her father is in the living room.
Ummu: You mean Lukman? What is he doing here? So now he finally has the courage to come… after three months?
Abu: Relax… you have no idea what he has been going through. He couldn’t face us… or even the baby. But Alhamdulillah, he is here now… and that is what matters. If you see him, you will pity him… he has lost so much weight… he looks completely broken. Let him see his child. And besides, we have not named her yet. We were waiting for him… let us do that today.
(The baby has fallen asleep on his shoulder.)
Abu: Look at her… already sleeping. What an angel.
Ummu: (takes a deep breath) Give her to me. I will feed her, then bring her out.
Abu: Alright… please don’t take too long. (he gently hands her over)
Seven minutes later
Abu: (smiling) Here comes your daughter.
(Adekunle quickly stands, nervous.)
Adekunle: As-salamu alaykum… good morning, ma.
Ummu: (studies his face, surprised at how much he has changed) Wa alaykum salam… what happened to you?
Adekunle: Nothing, ma… I’m fine. (forces a weak smile)
Ummu: You are clearly not fine. (she sits down)
(Adekunle’s eyes fall on the baby.)
Adekunle: Is that… my daughter?
Abu: Yes. (smiles softly)
Adekunle: Can I… touch her? I mean… can I carry her?
Abu: Of course. She is yours.
(Ummu carefully places the baby in his arms.)
(Adekunle’s hands tremble as he holds her. Tears fall before he can stop them.)
Adekunle: Oh my God… my baby… I… I have never carried a baby before… are they always this… beautiful?
(Abu nods quietly, his heart heavy.)
(Adekunle stares at her for a few seconds, then breaks down.)
Adekunle: She looks exactly like her mother…
(Ummu wipes her tears silently.)
Ummu: Yes… she does.
Adekunle: What is her name?
Abu: That is why we called you. We want you to name her… but not after her mother. Give her a name you have always wished for your first daughter. You are her father.
(Adekunle nods slowly, tears still falling.)
Adekunle: I’m sorry… (he hugs the baby closer) I will call you… my little Aisha.
Abu: Masha Allah… a beautiful name. The name of the beloved wife of the Prophet Muhammad (SAW). I love it.
Ummu: I love it too.
Adekunle: Thank you… for allowing me to name her… after everything I have done… you are truly good people… you showed me what real parents should be… I have been lost for so long… but I pray Allah helps me find my way again.
(He continues to admire Aisha.)
Abu: You can take her home with you… if you want.
(Ummu and Adekunle both look up in shock.)
Adekunle: Sir… are you serious?
Ummu: No… he cannot. I am not giving my grandchild to a man who turned her into a motherless child.
(Adekunle lowers his head in pain.)
Abu: My dear… let go of the past. Khadijah is not coming back. The best we can do now is make her child happy… and pray for her. This child belongs with her father.
Ummu and Adekunle: Ameen.
Abu: She is yours… but remember, whatever you do to her will affect her mother even in her grave. Raise her well… that is your responsibility now.
Adekunle: (deeply emotional) Thank you, sir… I am truly grateful… but please… let her stay here for a few days. I need to prepare everything for her… just one week. I promise I will come for her.
Ummu: (softens) That is fine.
(Adekunle kisses Aisha’s forehead.)
Adekunle: Thank you… for making me a father… even though I don’t deserve it.
(Curtain)
A week later
(Khadijah’s parents bring little Aisha to her father’s house. Her room is fully prepared, filled with everything she needs. Adekunle shows Ummu around, eager for her approval. She nods, satisfied.)
(When it is finally time to leave, Ummu struggles to let go.)
Ummu: I don’t want to let you go… my little Aisha… but I don’t want to be selfish either… this is your home now… (she breaks into tears)
Abu: (placing a hand on her shoulder) It’s okay… she will be fine.
Ummu: (leans into him, crying) I will miss her so much.
Abu: Me too.
(Adekunle watches them, guilt tightening his chest.)
Adekunle: I know I don’t deserve her… but I hope her mother is pleased with me.
Abu: She will be… just make sure nothing harms our grandchild.
Adekunle: Yes, sir.
Abu: We should be on our way now.
Adekunle: So soon? Ummu, please… can you guide me on how to care for her properly?
Ummu: I thought your mother would help you when you go to work?
Adekunle: I am not leaving her with anyone… not even my mother. Please, teach me everything.
Ummu: (nods) Alright… come.
(They step aside while Abu waits.)
Thirty minutes later
Ummu: Now I am satisfied… she will be fine.
Abu: Good. Shall we go?
Ummu: (nods, holding back tears) Lukman… may Allah bless you and your home… bye, my little angel…
Adekunle: Thank you so much, sir…
(They leave.)
Abu: (driving) I’m glad to see him smile again.
Ummu: You mean Lukman?
Abu: Yes… he deserves peace too. If he had the chance to go back, he would change everything… I can see the sincerity in him. Let us just pray that Aisha grows into a better version of her mother.
Ummu: Ameen.
(Adekunle returns inside, holding his daughter.)
Adekunle: Hello, my angel… what should we do today? Eat? Sleep? Play?
(The baby suddenly cries.)
Adekunle: No, no… don’t cry… I promised I wouldn’t make you cry… maybe you want me to carry you on my back…
(He struggles with the wrapper, awkward but determined.)
Adekunle: Ah… this is not easy… please don’t fall… I beg you…
(He paces the room, singing softly until she quiets.)
Adekunle: Good… now let me prepare your food.
(He moves carefully, preparing everything, then rocks her gently until she sleeps. After a while, he lays her on his chest and drifts off.)
During the night
(The baby cries uncontrollably. Adekunle moves around the house in confusion, trying everything.)
Adekunle: Why are you crying? I fed you… I carried you… what do you want?
(Her cries grow louder. He breaks down.)
Adekunle: Maybe this is my punishment… Khadijah… I will accept it…
(Then suddenly, realization hits him.)
Adekunle: Wait…
(He checks her diaper, then sighs.)
Adekunle: I forgot… I’m so sorry…
(He quickly cleans and changes her.)
(A moment later, she becomes quiet.)
Adekunle: Oh… so that was it…
(He smiles weakly.)
Adekunle: Now… do you want to eat?
(He feeds her gently. She falls asleep.)
Adekunle: (watching her) You are the most beautiful baby I have ever seen…
(He holds her close, exhausted.)
Thirty minutes later
(Mum quietly enters the house. She notices the silence and walks into the bedroom. She freezes at the sight of her son sleeping with a baby on his chest.)
Mum: (whispers) My God… is this my grandchild?
(She steps closer, her eyes softening.)
Mum: She is beautiful… why didn’t he tell me…
(She gently covers them with a blanket. Adekunle stirs awake.)
Adekunle: Mum? What are you doing here?
Mum: And you didn’t tell me your daughter is here? What is my purpose if not to help you?
Adekunle: Stop right there… I don’t need your help. I will raise my child myself.
Mum: What does that mean?
Adekunle: You heard me… I will not repeat the same mistake twice.
Mum: (hurt) After everything… this is how you speak to me?
Adekunle: Does your apology change anything?
(She goes silent.)
Mum: (picks up her bag slowly) Alright… I will go… but can I at least carry her?
Adekunle: She just fell asleep… I won’t wake her.
(Mum nods sadly and walks out.)
(Adekunle looks down at Aisha, gently rubbing her back.)
Adekunle: I’m sorry, my baby…
(Curtain)
The next Monday, around 5:30 a.m.
(Adekunle wakes up early, moving quietly so he doesn’t disturb his baby. The house is calm, the air still heavy with the responsibilities he now carries alone.)
(He begins his routine with careful attention. He boils water and pours it into a flask, sterilizes the feeding bottles, then gently bathes Aisha. After drying her, he ties her securely to his back while he prepares everything else he will need for the day.)
(He works steadily, balancing fatherhood and survival. By the time Aisha falls asleep, he lays her gently on the bed and quickly takes his own bath. When he is done, it is almost 8 a.m.)
(He packs her things into the car, including her pram, making sure everything is arranged safely. He places her carefully, ensuring she is secure before driving off.)
At work
(As he walks into the company with his baby, heads turn. Whispers follow him. Some of the workers exchange glances, not with mockery, but with quiet admiration. A man broken by loss, yet still standing… still trying.)
Adekunle: (placing the pram beside his chair) Back to work.
Secretary: (knocks softly)
Adekunle: Come in.
Secretary: Good morning, sir. Here are the documents you gave me on Friday. I’ve completed everything.
(She glances at the baby, unable to hide her admiration.)
Adekunle: Very good. You can go.
Secretary: Okay, sir… but… if you don’t mind… can I adjust something?
Adekunle: What is it?
Secretary: (steps closer, gently demonstrating) The bow… it should be here, not here.
Adekunle: (nods) Oh… I didn’t notice. Thank you.
Secretary: She’s such a beautiful baby.
Adekunle: Thank you. You may leave now.
Secretary: (hesitates) Sir… if you ever need help taking care of her… I can assist.
Adekunle: No. Thank you. I can handle it.
Secretary: Alright, sir.
(She leaves.)
(Adekunle looks at Aisha quietly.)
Adekunle: I won’t let anyone touch you… I will protect you till my last breath.
Six months later
(Life as a widower has proven harder than he ever imagined. Raising a child alone tests him every day, yet he refuses to give up.)
(Aisha is now nine months old, full of life and curiosity. She crawls everywhere, sometimes into places that leave Adekunle panicking… the toilet, the compound, corners he never imagined she could reach.)
(Her grandparents visit often, relieved to see her healthy and growing well. But Adekunle himself has changed. He has grown thinner, quieter, worn down by stress and sleepless nights. Still, Aisha keeps him going.)
One night
(Aisha is not her usual self. Her body is warm. Fever. Diarrhea. Her cries are weak but constant, cutting through the silence.)
(Adekunle has already given her medication, but nothing seems to calm her.)
Adekunle: (patting her gently) Sorry, my baby… do you want noodles?
Aisha: (crying softly)
Adekunle: (hands her toys, but she pushes them away) What do you want… please… Aisha, I need to rest too… it’s already past ten…
(Aisha continues crying.)
Adekunle: (runs his hand through his hair, overwhelmed) What do I do now… I’ve tried everything…
(He pauses, thinking.)
Adekunle: Maybe a bath… yes… come, let’s bathe.
(After bathing her, she becomes calmer, her eyes growing heavy.)
Adekunle: (quickly preparing her food) Here… your Cerelac…
(He places the feeder in her mouth and supports her gently.)
Adekunle: That’s my girl…
(He carries her to the bed so she can fall asleep comfortably.)
Adekunle: Good girl… stay here, don’t move… if you want to come down, you can… okay?
(He rushes to the bathroom.)
(Aisha quietly holds her feeder.)
Seven minutes later
(Adekunle returns and finds her asleep, the bottle resting beside her face.)
Adekunle: (smiles faintly) Funny baby…
(He removes the feeder gently, cleans her mouth, and covers her with a blanket.)
Adekunle: Now I can change…
(After changing, he heads back to the kitchen, preparing noodles and boiling more water for the night.)
Adekunle: (yawning, exhausted) Please hurry… it’s already past eleven…
(A few minutes later, he is done. He returns to the room with the flasks.)
Adekunle: Finally… I can sleep.
(He lies beside her. As soon as she senses him, she crawls toward him and rests her head on his chest.)
(Adekunle freezes, surprised.)
Adekunle: What…?
(He looks down at her, his expression softening.)
Adekunle: You’re used to me now?
(He kisses her forehead gently.)
Adekunle: Good night, my sleepy head.
(Curtain)
(Dream sequence)
(Khadijah appears, smiling softly, her presence calm and warm.)
Khadijah: Come… don’t be afraid… I’ve missed you.
Adekunle: (breathing heavily, tears falling) Khadijah… is it really you? Please… come back… we need you… forgive me… I’m sorry for everything…
(He breaks down.)
Khadijah: You will be fine… and our daughter… she doesn’t need me anymore. I have been watching over both of you… but now, I can rest.
(She smiles gently.)
Khadijah: I have forgiven you… because of how you chose to care for our child… you have done well.
(Adekunle reaches out to hold her…)
(He wakes suddenly.)
Adekunle: Khadijah! Please… come back!
(He sits up, crying deeply.)
Adekunle: Life without you… is not easy… I’m sorry…
(Curtain)