From Strangers to Soulmates

Chapter 1

The afternoon sun burned bright over Abuja, casting its golden heat over the city like a blanket. The dry, dusty air carried with it the unmistakable scent of home. As Mubarak stepped out of the plane at Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport, the familiar heat rushed at him, slapping gently against his face. It was a feeling he hadn’t realized he missed: the warmth, the noise, the scent of jet fuel mingled with roasted groundnuts somewhere in the distance.

He walked down the metallic stairs of the aircraft, a small black travel bag slung over his shoulder. The breeze ruffled his shirt as he glanced around the tarmac. Everything felt oddly the same, yet he knew it had been two long years since he last stepped foot on Nigerian soil.

Inside the arrival hall, the usual bustle of travellers filled the air, voices overlapping, trolley wheels clattering against tiled floors, and the faint echo of airport announcements. Mubarak waited patiently by the baggage carousel, scrolling through his messages until his box came around. He grabbed it, adjusted his bag, and started toward the exit, eager to see his family.

But fate had other plans.

Just as he reached the glass doors leading outside, a figure bumped into him, a girl, petite, clutching her phone in one hand and a handbag in the other. Her files scattered on the floor.

“I’m so sorry, Sir! I was in a hurry and didn’t see you,” she said quickly, bending to pick up her things.

Mubarak’s brows furrowed. His patience, already thin from the long flight, snapped slightly.

“How could you see me when you’re busy looking at your phone, stupid fool,” he muttered coldly before walking off, leaving her frozen and embarrassed.

Outside, the bright light made him squint for a moment and then he heard it.

“Ya Mubarak!”

Before he could turn, a blur of colourful hijab and soft perfume crashed into him. His younger sister, Aisha, wrapped her arms around him tightly, almost knocking the breath out of him.

“I missed you!” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

He smiled, a real one this time. “I missed you too, kanwata,” he murmured, hugging her back. Their bond had always been special, unbreakable since childhood. She was his little sister, his biggest fan, and often, his biggest headache.

Before they could separate, a familiar voice rang out.

“Toh, ya isa haka! (Okay, that’s enough!) Step aside and let me hug my son.”

Mubarak turned with a grin. “Mommy!”

He moved toward Hajiya Binta, and she pulled him into a warm embrace that instantly melted away the exhaustion from his journey. The scent of her perfume, the softness of her wrapper, the gentle pat she gave his back, it all reminded him of safety. Home.

They stayed like that for a few moments before Aisha groaned dramatically.

“Can we please go now? You two are acting like long-lost lovers.”

Hajiya and Mubarak burst into laughter.

“Well, you can’t blame me,” Mubarak teased, glancing at his mother. “This woman right here is the love of my life. The only woman I’ll ever love.”

Aisha rolled her eyes. “That’s cringe, you know.”

“Whatever!” he said, laughing as they all walked toward a white Jeep parked nearby.

“Good afternoon, Sir,” came a respectful voice.

Mubarak turned to see Malam Audu, their long-time driver, bowing slightly.

“Malam Audu! How are you?” Mubarak asked warmly.

“I’m fine, Sir. Welcome back.”

“Thank you,” Mubarak said as Audu took his luggage and loaded it into the boot before moving to the driver’s seat.

Inside the car, the air conditioner hummed quietly as they drove through the busy streets of Abuja. The conversation flowed easily, jokes, questions, laughter. Mubarak’s heart felt full again.

He looked out the window, watching familiar sights blur past, the hawkers weaving between cars, the banners of political campaigns, the grand mosques gleaming under the sun. Everything about it screamed home.

When they arrived at their mansion, a three-story building that gleamed white and elegant, surrounded by perfectly trimmed hedges, Mubarak couldn’t help but smile. “Home sweet home,” he whispered to himself.

Inside, the air smelled faintly of fried plantain and air freshener. The marble floor reflected the chandelier light above.

“Alhaji na Hajiya!” Mubarak called playfully as he entered his father’s sitting room.

His father, Alhaji Faruq Abdullahi, looked up from his newspaper, pretending to frown. “So you haven’t changed at all, huh?”

“Now, what did I say wrong?” Mubarak teased, walking closer. “You know you can’t live without Mommy.”

“Well, that’s true,” Alhaji admitted, chuckling. “But you kept her waiting at the airport.”

“Because she’s my mother. I can do whatever I want.” Mubarak grinned, earning a hearty laugh from his father.

“Get yourself a wife and let mine breathe,” Alhaji said, shaking his head with amusement.

“Noted,” Mubarak replied, laughing. “Good afternoon, Daddy.”

“Afternoon, my son. How was your flight?”

“It was fine. A bit long, but good.”

They sat together, talking animatedly about his trip to Australia and the business deal he went to secure. Their conversations were always filled with mutual respect and friendly teasing, more like brothers than father and son.

Soon, Aisha’s voice echoed from the dining room. “Lunch is ready!”

The men joined the women, and soon laughter filled the air again as plates clinked and spoons stirred. The family of four talked about everything and nothing, teasing, sharing, laughing. They truly looked like the happiest family in the world.

After the meal, Mubarak excused himself and headed upstairs to his floor, the third one, which was practically his private apartment. It had everything he needed: a cozy sitting room, two bedrooms, a kitchen, a small gym, and his home office.

He dropped his bag on the couch, went straight to the bathroom, and took a long, refreshing shower. The cool water washed away his fatigue. After praying, he grabbed his phone and called his best friend, Omar, to let him know he had arrived. They talked briefly before Mubarak’s eyelids grew heavy.

He lay down on his bed, the soft mattress hugging him in comfort. His mind drifted between thoughts of home, work, and the mysterious girl he bumped into at the airport. Her face flashed in his mind, startled eyes, nervous apology.

He sighed, dismissing the thought.

Within minutes, sleep claimed him completely.

And so, Mubarak’s journey in Abuja and perhaps, something far more unexpected began.