Chapter 8 (part two)

She looked at the environment and hissed, disgusted. So this is where the girl lives and mommy was disturbing her about the dirty thing? A jungle, no a garbage place. She chuckled dryly and went back into the car.

A while later, he came out together with Dalia. Burning rage hissed through her body like deathly poison, screeching a demanded release in the form of unwanted violence. Dalia opened the back door when she caught sight of amira in the front seat. She greeted her same time he was stepping into the car.

Dalia sinked in het seat when amira ignored her. He started the car and they left the village. Few minutes into the journey, amira broke the silence. "I hope we're taking her home with us to clean the house because it’s been two weeks since she last cleaned the house."

He glanced at her and gazed away as he chuckled, devastated. "I'm taking her home and I don’t want any arguments amira." He declared but it was like he added more fuel to her fire. "But the house is dirty, she needs to clean it today!"

"Is she some kind of your maid? You should respect this girl more than you respect those your useless friends that only teach you how to roam around the city. This girl cleans your entire house and for once have you ever thanked her? And you have the audacity to speak like that as if you were the one that gave birth to her.”

Her eyes widened for a second before narrowing in anger. She had no words to fight back. Every word stung only fuelling the fire that burned inside her. Every violate phrase was like gasoline to it, her fists began to clench and her jaw rooted. She was more angry at Dalia than she was with her husband because she caused all the insults rained on her, she mused to herself.

And as he said, they dropped her off at home and went back to their house. The moment he dropped amira off, he left the house again.

White knuckles from clenching her fist too hard, and gritted teeth from the effort to remain silent, her hunched from exuded an animosity that was like acid- burning, slicing, potent. Her face was red with suppressed rage, and when she saw him leave again, the anger rises twice as much as it was.

Later that night she was still in the living room waiting for him. She needed to release her anger on something or someone, and he was the perfect person. An hour later, she heard his car pullover. She peeped from the window and nodded her head, infuriated.

The moment he stepped into the house and met her in the living room, arms akimbo, he sighed as he rubbed the space between his eyes. He walked into the living room passed her, she blocked his path, "we need to talk," she demanded.

"What, amira?" He asked calmly. He knew definitely things were about to get bad. "What the hell was the meaning of what you did? How on earth would you speak to me that way in front of that rag?" She dared to ask. He shoved his hands in his pocket as he chuckled angrily, maybe that would reduce the anger boiling within him.

"I did not question you for what you did to my own mother, I did not question you for indirectly calling that girl a slave. But you have the audacity to come block my path and say nonsense to me like I'm your kid." There was no heat in his voice, as if his heart beat was steady, or he wasn't angry.

"I... I.... What do you mean? I'm the bad person? You insulted me so many times in front of that girl. What have I done to you to get that kind of embarrassment in front of that rag...."

"Stop calling her that, amira. She has parents and it is not like they could not take care of her or any of her financial needs. You should watch your mouth and know what you say to people, amira. And this talk is over," he declared. Her cold fury burnt with dangerous intensity. He never worries about her frequent fireworks and showers of red hot sparks, it was these bitterly cold slow burning rages that threatened to engulf their relationship.

She looked at his retreating back remorsefully. Maybe she has gone too far, she thought. But he also has a fault in this, he humiliated her in front of that rag girl. As big and rich as she was, he dared to humiliate her in front of that girl? That will never sit right with her and she was never going to tolerate it.

**

"Alhaji, I have an idea. Why don't I ask my nephew to move here since he isn't doing much in kano, I know my brother won't have a problem with that." She suggested. He flashed her a quick gaze and averted his eyes from her. He continued watching the news as if he was the only one in the room. "Alhaji I'm talking to you. I see Muhsin has his own company which he must be busy with and he has family to take care of so there's no point in stressing him all the time because of that girl or anything."

He chuckled nonplussed. "I didn't tell you I needed someone to help me with anything. Muhsin is enough for me," he concluded but amira's mother still insisted. "Alhaji if my nephew comes, things would be much more easier for you. You don't have to call muhsin all the time. He might not show it to you but with time he will definitely get tired of your errands."

He rest his back against the soft couch and exhaled. He barely let's anything enrage him. His eyes were on the tv as he spoke. "Hajiya, since when did you start caring about my business or anything concerning my life activities?" He inquired. Her eyes widened before she furrowed her brows and ward off her face away. "I'm asking you. When did you start showing your concern? Why are you even bothering yourself about them? What's the worse that could happen? He would ask the girl’s hand in marriage? I would be more than glad if he did because your daughter is as good as nothing in his life. So Please, I don't want to hear such thing again if not you'll face my wrath."

She rise to her feet and marched out of his room. If amira or her father wont't cooperate, then she was in no position to bother herself about what might happen since they don't understand what she's afraid of.