THE NEXT MORING 6: 23AM
Munir: (waking from sleep, sits up and stretches) Alhamdulillah, ya Allah. (looks beside him and finds Habibah on the floor, crying) Oh please, get a hold of yourself. Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it. That reminds me—it’s been a while since I tasted your food. Get up and make me breakfast.
You don’t have to complain about not bringing anything to the table. Go check the kitchen and find something to do. (gets down from bed)
You’re becoming unattractive. Hurry up and do as I say—I’m heading to the mosque.
Habibah: (tears continue to stream silently down her face)
Munir: (heading out) Don’t let me return and find you in that same spot.
A few hours later
Amir: (in the living room watching football) Yesssss!!! Gooooal!!! (cheering alone)
Habibah: (quietly places his meal on the table and turns to leave)
Amir: Look at you—making breakfast at this hour? You should be ashamed to call yourself a wife.
Habibah: (gives him a cold glare)
Amir: You see what I mean? Rude and disrespectful.
Habibah: (whispers to herself while walking away) Biggest mistake of my life.
Amir: What did you just say? (turns off the TV) Come back here! I’m talking to you!
Habibah: (stops, getting angry, turns around)
Amir: Did you just call me a mistake?
Habibah: Yes. I did.
Amir: How dare you?! (roars, walking toward her)
Habibah: (scared but stands her ground) Let me guess—now you're trying to hit me?
Amir: If you don’t watch your mouth, I’ll show you who the man of this house is!
Habibah: (steps forward, furious) Look! I’ve tolerated your nonsense long enough, trying to accept my fate. But there’s one thing—just one thing—I won’t ever accept: you raising your hand against me.
Just because I’m quiet doesn’t mean I’m weak. I will make your life so miserable that even mad men will pity you. Don’t you ever cross that line, you shameless excuse of a man. (storms off)
Amir: (fuming) Get back here! I’m not done with you, you mannerless woman! Habibah!!
Monday Morning – Classroom
A.Z: (heading to his seat, sees Habibah with her head on her desk) As-salamu alaykum, Hajia. (no response) Maybe she’s sleeping.
Khalid: (enters and heads to his spot, distracted by a commotion in the class) What’s going on?
Aishat: Why are you always like this? You know I care about you...
Khalid: What is it, Aishat?
Aishat: I came to your house last night, but it was locked. I called multiple times—you didn’t pick.
Khalid: Aishat, I’ve told you already—I can’t date you. Please stop forcing this.
Aishat: Why? Am I not attractive enough?
Khalid: Listen… being beautiful isn’t always enough. (suddenly notices Sefinat entering the class)
Aishat: (notices his shift) Or is it because of her? (points at Sefinat, who quietly takes her seat) What does she have that I don’t?
A.Z: (still observing Habibah’s uneasy posture, approaches again) Hajia? Are you okay? Hajia? (gently taps her—she jolts up in shock, panting and startled; the whole class turns)
Oh! I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean to scare you.
Habibah: (notices everyone staring, quickly grabs her bag and exits the class)
Aishat: What’s up with her? Always acting paranoid. These extremists ehn.
So back to us, baby—
Khalid: (puts in his earpods)
Sefinat: (quietly leaves the class too)
A few minutes later – Stairwell
Sefinat: (spots Habibah crying quietly by the stairs) Hey… (gently) Are you okay?
Habibah: (wipes her tears quickly) I’m fine.
Sefinat: (sits beside her) No, you’re not. Enough of pretending. I’m here, and I won’t judge. Seeing you like this breaks my heart, wallahi.
You’re a religious woman, and I admire that.
Habibah: (finally breaks down in uncontrollable sobs)
Sefinat: (softly embraces her) It’s okay… I got you.
A.Z: (reaches the stairs and pauses, stunned by Habibah’s tears—moved for the first time)
Sefinat: (gently pats her back) Whatever it is… it must be heavy.
(listens in silence while she cries for minutes; A.Z watches, deeply affected)
At the mosque – later
Sefinat: (standing at the women’s entrance) Uhmm, can I come in?
Habibah: Yeah, sure. It’s for Muslims—unless you’re off solat.
Sefinat: (steps in nervously) This feels… weird.
Habibah: Aren’t you Muslim? Why are you acting like a stranger? (removes her niqab)
Sefinat: (stunned to see her face for the first time)
Habibah: (noticing her reaction) What? The mosque won’t bite.
Sefinat: Habibah… you’re beautiful. Wow. I can’t believe this beauty was hidden all along. Look at your skin—oyinbo pepper!
Habibah: (smiles) Actually, I’m dark-skinned.
Sefinat: I’m not blind, Habibah. You’re glowing.
Habibah: It’s because my skin hardly gets exposed to the sun. That’s why I look a bit fair.
Sefinat: That’s a skincare routine on its own! Should I start wearing niqab too?
Habibah: (chuckles) No… you need deep knowledge and understanding of Allah’s command behind it.
Sefinat: Hmm… will you teach me?
Habibah: I don’t think that’s a good idea. (starts fixing her niqab back)
Sefinat: No, please… don’t cover back yet. Let me admire you a bit more. Your husband is lucky to have access to this beauty.
Habibah: (suddenly grows silent, lowers her gaze, leans on the wall, and sighs deeply)
Sefinat: (noticing) I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?
Habibah: Not really…
Sefinat: (holds her hand) I want to be your friend, Habibah. People say bad things about religious women like you, but you take my breath away. Honestly.
Habibah: (smiles briefly, then turns sad again) Thank you for brightening my day. But… I don’t think we can be friends.
Sefinat: Why not? I mean no harm. I’ve always been curious about you since I first stepped into that class. You’re different—and that’s what draws me to you.
Habibah: (sits up) So tell me… what brought you to our department? You’re clearly not one of us.
Sefinat: (sighs) Well… I like you and trust you. Promise me this stays between us?
Habibah: That’s what you said last time—and I avoided you ever since. I don’t want problems.
Sefinat: I swear, you’re safe. I just need someone I can talk to… please.
Habibah: Alright. I promise.
Sefinat: (smiles) Thank you, gorgeous. (they chuckle together) So… do you know Jamiu? Late Jamiu?
Habibah: (gasps) Don’t tell me— (stares at her closely) Are you?
Sefinat: (grins) You’re sharper than I thought. A genius.
Habibah: His sister? His twin sister?
Sefinat: Wow! I didn’t expect that. You even know he was a twin? How?
Habibah: (exhales softly) Your brother was kind. He always looked out for me—until everything changed.
Sefinat: (focused) What happened?
Habibah: I got into the wrong crowd… and he changed too. From an angel to a nightmare. No offense—but if you had been around then, you might have cut ties with him.
Sefinat: (eyes widen) Can you tell me more?
Habibah: I only knew about his shift in personality. I heard rumors… dark ones.
Sefinat: (breathes deeply) I need to know what really happened.
Habibah: Don’t tell me you’re here as a spy?
Sefinat: Something like that...
Habibah: You've caused enough trouble since you arrived. That’s why I kept avoiding you.
Sefinat: But not anymore. I can’t tell you everything now, but I promise—when the time is right.
So tell me—what’s really bothering you?
Habibah: I married the wrong man. I disobeyed my family just to be with him… now I regret everything. I wish I could go back.
Sefinat: Oh my God. I’m so sorry. What kind of man treats a woman like that? Why not file for divorce?
Habibah: It’s not that simple. Marriage is a black market—you don’t know what you bought until you open it.
I wanted to avoid zinah. I thought marriage would be a fairy tale—but this… this is a nightmare. He starves me, isolates me, treats me like nothing.
Sefinat: (heartbroken) That’s terrible…
Habibah: He came home after months—and raped me. All night. Just like that.
Sefinat: (shocked) He what?!