Chapter One
# CHAPTER ONE
### The Turaki House
The first thing I learned about staying in another person's house was that no matter how much they loved you, you still missed your own home.
I woke up to the sound of someone shouting downstairs.
“Amrah! Wallahi, ki dawo nan!”
A smile escaped my lips before I even opened my eyes.
Mummy.
Only Mummy could make a threat sound almost affectionate.
I pulled the blanket over my head and tried to go back to sleep, but another voice followed almost immediately.
“Amrah, ina kika kai?”
“I didn't take it!”
“Then why are you running?”
“Because you're shouting!”
The Turaki house had been like this since I arrived.
Loud, Warm, Chaotic, Alive.
There was almost never a moment when the house was completely quiet.
Someone was always arguing, laughing, or looking for something they had misplaced.
And somehow, despite all of it, I had begun to feel at home.
I opened my eyes and stared at the unfamiliar ceiling.
For a moment, I forgot where I was.
Then reality returned.
My parents were in Saudi Arabia for Hajj.
And I was in Lagos.
Alone.
Well—not exactly alone.
I was staying with the Turakis until my exams were over, after which I would travel to Gombe and meet my family there before they returned.
It had sounded simple when Abba explained it.
“It's only for your exams.”
Only.
As if leaving home for weeks was nothing.
I missed Mama's voice, Abba's quiet presence, my siblings fighting over absolutely everything.
Even Abdullah's stubbornness.
I sighed and sat up.
My reflection caught my attention in the mirror across the room.
Anyone could tell I am sleepy.
My long black hair had escaped the loose braid I'd slept in and now fell messily down my back. A few strands framed my face, making my already dark, almond-shaped eyes look even more pronounced.
Mama always said my eyes were the first thing people noticed.
“Ina kika gaje wadan nan idanun nan kamar na mage,” she'd tell me.
Cat eyes.
I had never understood why she made such a big deal about them.
I looked at my small pointed nose. Then my lips, Naturally pink.
I pulled a face at myself.
I was fair—much fairer than most of my siblings—and sometimes people made a bigger deal about my complexion than I understood.
Personally, I wished I were taller.
And maybe a little curvier.
Being five-foot-five as the eldest daughter of the family had not exactly given me the intimidating presence I imagined an eldest daughter should have.
I still looked like someone's baby.
Maybe because I was, Seventeen or not.
my hands reached for my phone.There was a message from Mama.
Mama: Kin tashi? I smiled immediately.
Me: Eh Mama.
A few seconds later:
Mama: Kin ci abinci?
I laughed.
Mama could ask me the same question three times in one day and somehow still believe I might have forgotten how food worked.
Me: Zan ci yanzu.
I opened Abba's chat. Nothing. That was normal.
Abba wasn't a texting man.
If he wanted to know how I was, he would call.
And when he called, the conversation would probably go:
“Ina kina lpy, ba komai ”
“Eh.”
“Kina karatu?”
“Eh Abba, inayi”
“Komai lafiya?”
“Alhamdulillah.”
Then silence.
That was Abba. Not overly affectionate.
Not the type to call every hour.
But somehow, knowing he had asked was enough.
I got out of bed. Today was another exam,dressed quickly, brushed my hair until it fell smoothly down my back, and tied the front loosely away from my face.
When I walked downstairs, the smell of fried eggs and tea reached me before anyone saw me.
Mummy was in the kitchen.
Even at that early hour, she looked completely put together.
She wore a long, flowing house dress and a matching headscarf, her round face bright despite the early morning. She had the kind of presence that made you notice her the moment she entered a room.
Energetic. Beautiful.
And very much a woman who did not tolerate nonsense.
“Se’ad!”
I smiled.
“Good morning, Mummy.”
“Good morning, my daughter. Come and eat.”
Mummy placed a plate in front of me and immediately narrowed her eyes.
“You look tired.”
“I slept well.”
“Hmm.”
That hmm meant she didn't believe me.
“I did.”
“You children always say you are fine.”
“Eat.”
I smiled and picked up my fork.
Across from me, Amrah was scrolling through her phone.
At 15, she had a face that made it difficult to believe how nosy she was.
She had bright, expressive eyes that seemed permanently prepared to discover something interesting, soft features and a mischievous smile that appeared whenever she was about to say something she shouldn't. She was much taller than me, but her baby face showed she’s still young
She looked at me, Then at Mummy, Then back at me.
“Se’ad.”
“Hm?”
“Do you miss your family?” there was a paused.
“Of course.”
“Especially your mum right?”
“ Yes” i replied
She nodded thoughtfully.
“Do you miss Labeeb the most?”
I smiled.
“Yes.”
“I knew it.”
“Why?”
“Because you're always talking about him.”
“He's my baby.”
“Your baby?”
“Yes.”
Amrah laughed.
“He's seven.”
“So?”
“You're behaving like he's your son.”
Mummy laughed from the kitchen.
“Leave her. She loves that boy.”
“I know.”
Amrah leaned back in her chair.
“And he knows it too. That's why he gets away with everything.
That was true.
Labeeb could probably ask Abba for the moon and Abba would at least consider how to get it.
“Se’ad!”
Hanan's voice came from the hallway.
Before I could respond, she appeared.
Ten years old.
Small, adorable and incapable of entering a room quietly.
She had round cheeks, wide curious eyes and two little braids tied with ribbons that bounced as she walked.
She came straight to me.
“You didn't wait for me.”
“For breakfast?”
“Yes.”
“You were sleeping.”
“I wasn't sleeping.”
“You were.”
“was just resting my eyes.”
I laughed.
“Okay.”
She climbed onto the chair beside me.
“I want your phone.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“That's not a reason.”
“It's enough of a reason.”
She frowned.
I smiled.
Hanan had somehow decided that I belonged to her during the short time I'd been staying there.
If I sat somewhere, she sat beside me, everywhere I go she followed.
If I was on my phone, she wanted to know who I was talking to.
And if I told her to leave me alone, she looked personally betrayed.
Mummy walked out of the kitchen.
“Se’ad, what time is your exam?”
“Ten.”
“Then you need to leave early.”
“I know.”
“Don't rush.” I simply nodded
“Ridhwan bai tashi?” mummy asked Amrah
I looked up.
Ridhwan.
I had heard the name several times since coming to the house.
Mummy's son.
The one studying Medicine in Gombe.
The one who had come back to Lagos because of the university strike.
The one I had barely seen.
Amrah shrugged.
“Maybe he's still sleeping.”
Mummy frowned.
“Since when does he sleep this late?”
“He came home late yesterday.”
“Go and call him.”
“Me?”
“Yes, ke.”
Amrah sighed dramatically.
“Why me?”
“Because you're standing there doing nothing.”
“I am eating.”
“You can eat and walk.”
Amrah pushed her chair back.
“Fine.”
She took two steps toward the stairs, then stopped.
A mischievous smile slowly appeared on her face.
“ I'll tell him Se’ad is looking for him.”
My eyes widened.
“Amrah!”
She burst out laughing and ran.
“Don't you dare!”
Mummy shook her head.
“Wallahi, this girl…”
I was still laughing when I heard footsteps coming from the staircase.
Slow, Unhurried. I didn't look up immediately.
Then I heard a man's voice. “Assalamu alaikum.”
Something about the voice made me raise my head.
And there he was.
Ridhwan.
For a moment, I simply stared.
He was taller than I had imagined.
Very tall.
Slim, with broad enough shoulders to give his otherwise lean frame a quiet elegance. His complexion was fair, though not as fair as mine, and his features had that clean, striking sharpness that made his face difficult to forget.
A pointed nose.Slender brown eyes.
Dark, neatly kept hair.
And lips that curved naturally whenever he smiled.
But it was his eyes that caught me.
They were an unusual shade of brown—warm and clear, almost golden when the morning light touched them.
I had never noticed someone's eyes like that before.
He looked older than the boys I was used to seeing around me.
Not just because of his height.
There was something composed about him.
Something quiet.
He wore a simple traditional outfit, nothing particularly extravagant, yet somehow he carried himself like someone who never needed to try too hard to be noticed.
His eyes moved around the room before settling briefly on mine.
I looked away almost immediately.
“Wa alaikumussalam.”
My voice sounded quieter than I intended.
Mummy turned toward him.
“Sai Yanzu?”
“Na tashi.”
“Yanzu?”
He smiled.
“I slept late.”
“You young people and this sleeping.”
He laughed softly.
And that was the first time I heard his laugh.It was brief,Low Warm.
The kind of laugh that made you want to hear it again without knowing why.
He walked toward the table.
Amrah appeared behind him, grinning like she had just accomplished something.
Ridhwan glanced at her.
“Me kike dariya?”
“Nothing.”
His eyes moved back to me “You're Se’ad, right?”
He knew my name?
“Eh, Ina kwana” I greeted him
he replied “ Lfy lau, I've heard about you.”
I didn't know what to say to that So I smiled.
Mummy interrupted before the silence could become awkward.
“She's writing an exam today.”
Ridhwan looked at me.
“What exam?”
I told him WAEC
“When are you leaving?”
“Soon.”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
That was it.
Nothing special.
Nothing dramatic.
Just a boy I'd barely known, standing in his mother's house, asking about my exam.
I lowered my eyes to my breakfast.
But for some reason, I suddenly became very aware of the fact that he was still sitting across the room.
And I couldn't understand why.
I hadn't even known him properly.
Not yet.