2

It had been 8 years since the car accident that took Akram and Aleena's parents. But fate had already written a twist long before that Aleena wasn't Akram's real sister.

When Akram was a small boy, he had always begged Allah for a little sister. He would watch children playing on the street in Hotoro and whisper, "Ya Allah, please give me a small sister to play with." But his mother couldn't have more children after him.

One hot afternoon, when Akram was around twelve, he went with his mother to Sahad Stores. They were about to enter the car when they noticed an old woman sitting by the gate with a small girl beside her the girl was crying uncontrollably, nose running, face dirty with tears.

"Subhanallah," Akram's mother muttered, walking closer. "Mama, me yasa kike barin yarinyar nan tana kuka haka? (mama, why did you leave this girl crying)" 

The old woman adjusted her wrapper, clearly irritated. "Haba, Madam, idan ta gaji da kuka, sai ta tsaya. Ai kuka nata ne, ba nawa ba. (if she is tried if crying she will keep quite, the crying is for she not me)" 

"Haba Mama," Akram's mother frowned. "Ba kya tausayin ta? (won't you pity her) Pick her up at least. She looks tired. Isn't she your child?" 

The woman hissed softly. "Ni? Ba 'yata bace wallahi. Ina taimaka mata ne kawai. Amma gaskiya, bazan iya zama da ita ba. Ta fi karfina. (me she is not my child, I'm just helping her, but honestly she I can't take care of her, she passes my power)" 

Akram's mother's face softened. "Toh, ina iyayenta? (Toh where is her parent?"

The old woman sighed deeply, her voice heavy. "Ubangijinta ya karbi mahaifiyarta. Ni da mahaifiyarta muna bara tare tun da mijinta ya rasu. Amma yanzu, wallahi, ba zan iya kula da ita ba. Yarinyar nan tana da wahala sosai. (Allah has taken the mother's life, me and her mother use to beg together as beggars since when her husband died. Wallahi i cant take care of her, this child has so many problems)"

Akram looked at the girl closely. Her small face was pale, eyes red from crying. Something inside him tightened. She looked like someone who hadn't felt love in a long time.

"Mommy," he whispered in English so the old woman wouldn't understand, "please, let's take her. You know I've always wanted a sister."

"Akram," his mother said gently, "she's someone's child. We can't just take her like that."

"Please, Mommy. We'll help her. She looks sick."

His mother sighed. "Okay, let's first take her to the hospital. From there, we'll know what to do."

She turned back to the old woman. "Mama, mu tafi asibiti da ke, domin ta ga likita. Zan ba ki kudi. (mama lets go to the hospital, so that she can see the doctor, I will give you money)" 

The old woman's eyes brightened immediately. "Eh, toh, idan za ki biya, ni zan bi ku. (yes if you will pay me I will follow you)" 

At the hospital, the doctor said the little girl was malnourished and had fever. Akram's mother held her tiny hand gently. "What's your name, my dear?"

The girl sniffed and whispered, "Aleena."

After Akram mother and father talked about Aleena they decided to adort her. 

From that day, Aleena became part of their home. Akram was over the moon. He had finally gotten a sister and he treated her like the most precious thing in the world. He carried her to school, taught her English, even fought anyone who teased her.

Years later, after losing their parents, he often 

thought back to that day at Sahad Stores. 

Sometimes, in quiet moments, he'd smile to himself. If not for that day, I would've been completely alone. He had promised himself never to tell Aleena the truth. She was his sister  in blood or not, it didn't matter.

He went to the room and saw Aleena on the prayer mat.  "Aleena what are doing?" he looked at her.

"Praying." she said pouting her small lips.

Akram chuckled he almost laughed, "Aleena girl on there period do not pray. I didn't I tell you." 

"Oh, I forgot." she looked so very shy. She briefly looked at him then stood to her feet. "Ehn you can go now, stop staring at me." She was so shy of him. 

He like how she frown her face it make her look serious and cute "Fine" 

After he left she stood up and removed her hijab.

Ya Allah, I'm so shy, hmm I wish mommy was alive. He continued biting her finger in her mouth. This a is so embarrassing. 

                                 **********

"Yaya Akram!" Aleena's voice echoed from the toilet.

Akram, who was folding clothes in the sitting room, sighed. Na gode Allah, what is it again this time?

"What is it?" he shouted back.

"The poopoo is not coming out!"

He blinked, confused. "What?"

"The poopoo!" she cried louder, clutching her stomach.

Akram opened the bathroom door, and there she was sitting on the toilet seat, her face squeezed, legs dangling, holding her stomach like she was in labor.

"Yaya, it's hurting me! I just want the poo out, make it come out." she whined dramatically.

He stared at her for a second, not knowing whether to laugh or worry. "Aleena, what do you mean 'make it come out'? How am I supposed to”

"Help me, Yaya! Make it come out nau!" she said, almost crying.

He bit his lip, fighting laughter. This girl will not kill me today.

"Tashin hankali. Ki yi nishi keep breathing, it will come out."

"I'm tired of breathing!" she snapped.

Akram raised an eyebrow. "Eh? Then how are you still alive if you stopped breathing?"

She opened her mouth wide and burst into tears. "You're laughing at me!"

At that point, Akram lost it. He started laughing quietly, covering his mouth. "No, no, I'm not laughing. Wallahi, I'm not." He crouched beside her, patting her back. "Okay, try small, kinji? It will soon come out."

Then he noticed something. "Aleena, your pad is full. You didn't change it."

She looked at him with tears and annoyance. "Yaya, I just want to shit! Forget pad, I want this thing to come out!"

Akram turned away, shaking with laughter. "Mothers are trying, wallahi," he muttered under his breath.

Moments later, Aleena suddenly leaned forward. "Yaya, I think I want to vomit."

"What again?" Akram's eyes widened. Before he could grab a bowl, she threw up.

He just froze. "Astaghfirullah! Aleena! You're vomiting and pooping at the same time?"

She leaned weakly against him. "I told you my stomach hates me."

He couldn't even get angry. He just started laughing again, holding her until she was done. The smell was horrible, but he stayed there, cleaning her up patiently. The smell of the poo the blood on the pad and the vomit was too much. 

When he finally bathed her, changed her pad, and tucked her into bed, she looked peaceful like a baby again.

Akram collapsed on the couch, exhausted. His head fell back against the chair. "Aleena will not kill me," he muttered, smiling faintly. "If I survive living with this girl, I can survive anything."

He looked at her sleeping face, her lips slightly open, the faintest smile on her face even in sleep. 

"Alhamdulillah," he whispered. "Thank God I'm not a girl."

He chuckled quietly before drifting off beside her, both siblings not by blood, but by love safe in their little world in Kano.

Aleena woke up in the middle of the night crying softly. The room was quiet except for the distant hum of generators from their neighbors and the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock. Her stomach twisted again, sharp pain pulling her out of sleep.

Akram stirred on the couch when he heard her sobbing. His heart squeezed. Even half-asleep, his instinct was to protect her. He got up, rubbing his eyes, and went to her side.

"Shhh... Aleena," he whispered, lying beside her on the bed. He pulled her gently into his arms, her warm tears soaking through his shirt. "Take it easy, okay? It will stop soon. I'll take you to the hospital tomorrow." His voice was heavy with sleep, soft and comforting.

She sniffed, her voice small and trembling. "Yaya, I don't want to do it every month. It hurts too much."

He smiled faintly, even though his heart ached for her. "Don't worry. Next time it won't hurt this much, kinji? You'll get used to it."

She didn't answer. She just pressed her face deeper into his chest, breathing unevenly, like a child afraid of being alone. Akram ran his hand slowly over her hair, the way his mother used to do for him when he had nightmares.

He whispered quietly, "Allah ya baki lafiya (May Allah heal you)."

The room fell silent again. Outside, the wind brushed against the curtain, carrying the faint sound of a distant muezzin calling "As-salatu khayrun minan-nawm..." Prayer is better than sleep.

But tonight, Akram was too tired to move. He just lay there, holding her until her breathing steadied and she fell asleep again.

It was past seven in the morning when someone began knocking on the door. The sound echoed through the small flat, mixing with the smell of early morning dust and the warmth of the rising sun.

Akram groaned and opened one eye. The sunlight filtering through the curtain hit his face, and his heart dropped. "Inna lillahi..." He hadn't woken up for Fajr.

He sat up quickly, rubbing his face. He could still hear Aleena breathing softly beside him. Her face was peaceful now, no sign of the pain from the night before.

At least she slept well, he thought with relief.

The knocking came again. Kai, who is that this early?

He walked to the door, adjusting his shirt, still half-asleep. When he opened it, he saw Salma and Humaira standing outside, both in their neat school uniforms, school bags hanging from their shoulders.

"Ina kwana, Yaya Akram, (Good morning Yaya Akram)" they greeted in chorus, smiling politely.

"Lafiya lau," he replied, rubbing his eyes again. "Come in."

"We came to check on Aleena," Humaira said quickly. "She hasn't been to school for two days. Our teacher was even asking of her yesterday."

Akram nodded, stepping aside for them to enter. 

"She's inside, still resting. She's been sick, that's why. But she's getting better now."

Salma's eyes softened. "Allah ya bata lafiya. (may Allah heal her)" 

"Amin," he said with a small smile.

They walked inside quietly, their chatter filling the sitting room as Akram excused himself to perform ablution. The cool water touched his face, waking him fully. As he prayed, his heart felt calm again.

After finishing his prayer, he sat on the mat for a while, hands raised in dua.

Ya Allah, thank You for everything... for this roof, for my sister, for giving me strength when I almost had nothing left.

His eyes drifted toward the window, where sunlight now fell across the simple sitting room their father's house. He was grateful their uncle had allowed them to stay here, even though he had taken every naira of their father's savings.

Still, Akram was thankful. At least they had a home. At least they had each other.

He smiled quietly, hearing Aleena's faint laughter from the room as her friends teased her. It was the first time he'd heard her laugh since the pain began.

Alhamdulillah, he thought, his heart swelling with peace. My little sister will be fine.