(Fatimah is busy in the kitchen preparing dinner. Lukman enters
the house after Asr prayer. As he opens the door, a delicious
aroma hits him.)
Lukman (thinking aloud): Hmmmm, now that’s my country food.
Who is preparing this delicious aromatic food? Let me check.
(He heads to the kitchen and sees Fatimah.)
Lukman (thinking): So this girl is a good cook. I guess she must
be our maid, but why is everything about her so perfect? She
seems very religious…just like my parents. I wish I could talk to
her… but I just can’t. I better go.
Fatimah (noticing him): Brother Lukman.
Lukman (shocked): Y…yes?
Fatimah: Do you need anything?
Lukman: Uhmm…no, just came to check who is in the kitchen. Ithought my mom was back.
Fatimah: Ok, oh that reminds me… (she leaves what she’s doing
and moves closer to him) Please, mom will be back from work
soon, and I want us to surprise her.
Lukman: Ok, but how are we going to do that?
Fatimah: You, of course! You have no idea how long she has
prayed to see you again. I want you to hide when she enters, and
I will ask her to close her eyes. Then you show up—I know she will
be overwhelmed with joy.
Lukman: Wow, that sounds cool! Ok, I’ll do it. Thanks for trying to
make my mom smile. If you don’t mind me asking…who are you to
her, and do you live in this house?
Fatimah (looking down): Uhmm…yeah, I live here. It’s been a
year now, and…uhm… (she goes silent for a few seconds) I…
Lukman (noticing her sadness): It’s okay, it’s fine. You don’t
have to tell me. I’m sorry for ruining your beautiful mood. Let’s
forget I asked, ok?
Fatimah: No, I wish to tell you my identity, but I… I…
Lukman: Look, I totally understand. You don’t have to tell me.
I’m not even interested in hearing about it again. Don’t ruin your
beautiful smile, ok?
Fatimah: Ok, thank you so much for your kindness, sir. (She
hears a car horn from the gate.) Wait! Mummy is back! You have
to hide now!
Lukman: Ok, ok! Where am I going to hide?
Fatimah (pushing him to a corner, not minding how close they
are): Here, you can hide here. When I say “come,” you show up, ok?
Lukman (still staring at her): Ok…
Fatimah (noticing his gaze, quickly steps back): Uhmm…sorry for
making you uncomfortable. (She rushes back to the kitchen.)
Hajia Habibah: As Salam alaykum?
Fatimah: Walaykum Salam waramatulah, mum. Welcome home.
(She takes her bag to her room.)
(Lukman watches from his hiding spot, surprised at how close
Fatimah and his mother are.)
Hajia Habibah: Thank you, my dear. Ahhh…today was so stressful.
I need a vacation. (She falls onto the couch.) Please get me some
water.
Fatimah: Ok ma. (She heads to the kitchen.) Here it is, ma. Sorry
for the stress.
Hajia Habibah (drinking water hurriedly): Thank you, my dear.
Hmm…what are you cooking? I love this aroma, Masha Allah!
Fatimah: Uhmm, mom, can you do me a favor and close your eyes?
Hajia Habibah: Why? Do you have a surprise for me?
Fatimah: Yes! I want to present my amazing delicacy.
Hajia Habibah: Oh really? Then I can’t wait! (She gladly closes
her eyes.)
Fatimah (smiling, signaling Lukman): I’m coming!
Hajia Habibah: I’m waiting!
(Lukman quietly moves in front of his mother.)
Fatimah: Mom, now you can open your eyes to see my new
delicacy.
Hajia Habibah (opening her eyes, shocked): (She gasps, seeing
her son…)
(Hajia Habibah stands in front of Lukman, overwhelmed with joy.
She jumps up, embracing him tightly in tears.)
Hajia Habibah: My baby!! Ahhhhhhhhhh, Lukman! You left me
for so many years, my baby! (She wipes his face, inspecting him.)
You are now a big man, Masha Allah.
Fatimah (smiling, feeling happy for Hajia Habibah): Do you like
my new delicacy, mom?
Hajia Habibah: Are you kidding me? I love it! Thank you so much,
Fatimah, for making me happy today. I love this surprise. Ahh,
my son! (She re-embraces Lukman.) I have missed you so much.
Lukman: I have missed you too, mom. Look at you—you look like aprincess! You still look so young for dad, no wonder he doesn’t
want to marry again. People can’t believe you have a son like me.
Hajia Habibah: And you… you look so handsome and big, in fact
huge! Come, let’s have a seat. Have you eaten?
Lukman: Almost, mom. Fatimah is almost done cooking, right?
Fatimah (nodding gladly): Let me set the dining table. (She
heads to the kitchen.)
Hajia Habibah (still admiring her son, resting her head in his
arms): What about your brother? When will he be back, my baby?
Lukman: By next year, I’m sure he will be back. I believe so.
Hajia Habibah: You have to tell me about Canada.
Lukman: Why are you acting like you haven’t been there?
Hajia Habibah: I know, but it’s been three years now.
Lukman: I bought a lot for you.
Fatimah (shouting): Food is ready!
Hajia Habibah: Ok dear, we are coming! (They head to the dining
table and are surprised by the spread.) Masha Allah! You
prepared all this? Jollof rice, plantain, fruit salad, vegetable
salad, fried eggs, roasted chicken?
Lukman: I am so hungry. Let’s dig in! When was the last time I
had a proper Nigerian balanced diet? Thanks so much, Fatimah.
I’m indeed grateful.
Fatimah: You’re welcome. Please enjoy.
Lukman: Join us, please.
Fatimah: I’m not hungry for now. I’ll eat at night.
Hajia Habibah: Are you sure you aren’t hungry?
Fatimah: Yes, ma. Please excuse me. (She heads to her room,
leaving them alone. Lukman can’t take his eyes off her, but his
mother notices.)
Hajia Habibah (playfully hitting his head): Can’t you lower your
gaze? Did we teach you to stare at a woman like that?.
Lukman: Mom! Is that why you hit me? At first, I thought you
were happy to see me! Why are you hitting me again?
Hajia Habibah: Welcome back to Nigeria! This is not abroad; I can
still hit you. I’m your mother, and you have to learn to lower your
gaze. Am I making sense?
Lukman: Ok, mom. (He continues eating angrily.)
Hajia Habibah (touching his head affectionately): My baby boy.
Lukman: Mom! I’m not a kid anymore! Stop touching my head;
I’m 24, for goodness sake!
Hajia Habibah: To me, you are still five.
(Curtain closes.)
Grace began to regain her strength. She started cleaning the
house and preparing proper meals for herself. She tried her
best to reach her children, but they did not pick up her calls.
Feeling frustrated, she blamed herself for not training them
well. Eventually, she reopened her shop, but to her dismay, it was
found open and nearly empty. Overwhelmed, she burst into tears,
wondering who could have stolen her goods. Neighbors gathered
around her, offering comfort and support. By the end of the
day, she returned home, heartbroken and exhausted.
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