Daughter of the Buried Truth

Chapter Three: The Siblings

She was driving in the new car Daddy had bought for her, her mind crowded with countless thoughts. The soft recitation of the Qur'an playing in the background helped her steady her nerves.

Beside her, Junior slept soundly, clearly exhausted from the day.

Her phone, which was charging, suddenly began to ring. Seeing the name on the screen made her release a gentle sigh. She picked up slowly, placed the phone to her ear, and said:

"Assalamu alaikum."

From the other end came a warm, concerned response:

"Wa alaikumussalam. Is everything okay? You're not home yet?"

She returned her attention to the road and replied:

"All is well, Ameerah. I went to Daddy's place to give him the monthly report. You know the year is ending, and I had to finalize everything. But I'm on the way now, and I'm coming with a big surprise."

She ended with a smile.

Excitement filled Ameerah's voice as she said:

"Wow! Okay, we'll be waiting. But I'm sure my sweet little boy is asleep by now, I know he can't stay up this late."

With delighted laughter, Nuratu answered:

"You guessed right."

"I always know," Ameerah said cheerfully. "May Allah bring you both home safely."

"Ameen," Nuratu replied, ending the call.

By 7:48 p.m., she turned into the row of houses in Tudun Yola, within the city of Kano. She honked once, and the security guard rushed forward. Not recognizing the car, he hesitated until she rolled down the window. Then he opened the gate quickly.

She drove into the spacious compound, and he greeted her politely as she passed.

The house was a moderate duplex with two floors, not as grand as Daddy's mansion, but beautifully designed and furnished with modern luxury.

She parked under the carport just as a beautiful young lady, no more than 22, came running out with excitement.

"Wow! What a big surprise! Ukhty, this car is beautiful, you're truly a big Hajiya now. May Allah protect you."

"Ameen," Nuratu replied with a small smile.

Her eyes shifted to the entrance, where she spotted a handsome young man, around 26 or 27, standing still.

He was tall, fair-skinned, broad-chested, with neat hair and a full beard. He wore a black suit set, sleeves folded to the elbow, and was staring at her, or rather, at the car.

Her chest tightened a little at the sight of him, especially seeing how intently he was looking at the car instead of coming forward to greet her.

Turning away, she focused on Ameerah, who was trying to lift Junior.

"He didn't go to the hospital today?"

"He's just arrived," Ameerah answered briefly, lifting Junior and heading inside.

Just then, Baba Rabi appeared, a cheerful middle-aged woman, greeting warmly:

"Welcome home, Nuri."

Smiling, Nuratu responded, "How is the house, Baba Rabi?"

"Alhamdulillah," she replied joyfully. "And this new car, may Allah protect you from harm and guide you. May He bring you joy the same way you bring joy to us."

She picked up Nuratu's bag to take inside.

Meanwhile, Nuratu walked toward the entrance.

He was still standing there.

Still waiting.

Still watching.

When she got close enough, he finally spoke:

"Congratulations."

His face held questions, curiosity... maybe even irritation.

She simply looked at him with a stiff expression, said nothing, turned her face away, and walked past him.

He shut his eyes briefly, stung by her reaction, then returned his gaze to the car, studying it carefully, calculating its price in his mind. Suddenly anger flared in him. He stormed inside after her, calling loudly:

"Ukhty!"

But she was already climbing the stairs. She didn't even turn back when he called again.

He followed her quickly, still shouting her name, until she entered her room and shut the door.

That didn't stop him. He knocked forcefully, calling her again.

Then her voice came from behind the door:

"Go away. Leave me alone. I don't have time to waste on you. Please, Anuwar....just go."

Then harsher:

"It's clear I have no value to you. Any time you feel like it, you barge into my peace. Don't let your bad mood kill me. Just leave before I get even angrier."

He turned away with an angry groan, grabbed a nearby flower vase, and flung it aside, then walked to his own section of the house.

Their family tradition was that dinner never started until everyone was present. That night, everyone except Nuratu was seated.

The room was tense; no one felt at ease. Except Anuwar. He pretended not to care, scrolling on his phone as if nothing had happened.

By 9:45 p.m., Ameerah checked her phone, glanced at Anuwar, and glared, knowing he had started the morning with trouble and ended it the same way. She quietly climbed the stairs to check on her sister.

She knocked softly and entered.

Nuratu sat on her large bed, papers everywhere, laptop open, phone to her ear, clearly talking to Daddy.

When the call ended, she looked up briefly.

"Bibi, what's wrong?"

Ameerah swallowed. "Ukhty... everyone is waiting for you. We... can't eat without you."

Without looking at her, Nuratu said calmly:

"I'm not hungry."

Ameerah lowered her voice. "Please, Ukhty... I know yaya upset you in the morning. Forgive him and come down. You know no one will eat unless you're there."

With a tired, sarcastic smile, Nuratu replied:

"Then I guess you'll all sleep hungry today."

Ameerah tried again, but Nuratu pointed at the door:

"Please leave before you add to my anger."

Ameerah quietly walked out, disappointment weighing on her chest.

She went downstairs, checked Anuwar's plate, and found that he had barely eaten. She served herself reluctantly, just enough to soften her hunger, then returned to her room with Junior, who had already eaten and fallen asleep again.

At 12:48 a.m., Nuratu finally finished her work, end-of-month salaries had to be processed, and she hated delaying people's rights.

Exhausted, she headed to the bathroom, performed ablution, prayed nafilah, made her usual supplications, and prepared to sleep.

A sharp hunger suddenly gripped her. She realized she hadn't eaten breakfast properly because of the morning argument, and she hadn't really eaten at Daddy's either.

Reluctantly, she stepped out to make something light.

She began preparing indomie, intending to fry an egg, since dambun shinkafa was too heavy for the night.

She opened her tea flask, as usual, someone had left tea inside for her. She placed it on the dining table, set water to boil, cracked an egg, and stirred the pot.

But then she remembered a message she needed to send to Daddy. She picked up her phone, sat on one of the couches, and began typing, sinking slowly into deep thought...

...until sleep gently carried her away.

She didn't know how long she slept before she felt someone touching her foot.

She jolted awake.

It was Anuwar, holding a plate and a tea cup.

Her heart steadied. She hadn't realized how carelessly she had left the food cooking. Things were clearly piling up beyond her limits; she needed rest or even an assistant.

He picked up a side table, placed the plate on it, stirred the tea gently, making sure everything was perfect before handing it over.

She accepted it with both hands and ate hungrily, like someone who had starved too long.

He watched her intently, softened by the sight, it reminded him of their difficult past.

When she finished, she stood up. He watched her silently as she climbed the stairs.

Instead of heading to her own section, she climbed the final staircase leading to Anuwar's floor. The house had three levels. The ground level held the guest rooms, Baba Rabi's room, their large family lounge, a small side parlor, and their spacious, well-equipped kitchen.

The first floor housed her own quarters, almost like a mini-apartment with a bedroom and private living room, and then Ameerah and Junior's section, which was structured similarly, since the two always slept together.

There was also another large family lounge on that floor. From there, another staircase led up to the topmost level, where Anuwar's own suite sat alone, alongside a beautiful balcony decorated with glass panels and lush grass carpet, the kind of place that caught your eye even from a distance.

This balcony was where Nuratu headed, needing fresh air. It was the place she always chose whenever she wanted solitude.

Though the balcony was furnished with two chairs, she ignored them and settled on the grass carpet instead. She tilted her head upward, staring at the sky.

The moon was bright, washing the whole place in soft light. The night was calm, the only sound the gentle whisper of wind. The atmosphere stirred memories, deep ones from her past.

Slowly, a hot tear slid down her cheek. She opened her eyes and turned to the side after sensing movement. Anuwar stood there, watching her. Even though the lighting was faint, she could see the heaviness in his expression.

She quickly turned away and wiped her tears. No matter what, she never allowed her younger brothers to witness her cry. She returned her gaze to the sky and, with a steady voice, she called:

"Anuwar."

He turned fully toward her, his face shadowed with sadness. She continued speaking without looking at him:

"Why do you accuse me of a******y?"

The question rattled him deeply. He searched for words but found none; he stood frozen, staring at her in shock and distress. When he remained silent, she finally turned and looked directly at him. The turmoil she saw on his face gave her the courage to continue:

"Anuwar, no one knows me better than you do. You know what I am capable of and what I can never do, not even as a joke.

"You know very well the hardship we lived through... hardship so severe that even if I had committed such a sin, Allah would not hold it against me. But you... you accuse me of giving birth to Junior outside marriage? Outside they point fingers at me, and now inside the house too?"

Her voice cracked.

He dropped to his knees, tears spilling as he spoke:

"Ukhty, I never doubted you. Your words just... they cut too deeply..."

His voice broke completely.

Nuratu inhaled slowly, then met his eyes:

"Anuwar, what I have learned about life is this: every hardship comes with its ease; every problem has its solution. We lived through trenches filled with dangers, snakes, terror, things people would never believe... Yet we survived with our dignity intact.

In one moment, Allah looked upon us with mercy and gave us light. We followed that light and found a life like everyone else, safety, peace, stability."

She paused and continued:

"That light... that mercy... didn't create itself. Allah sent it to us through one of His servants. How could I betray someone who became a means of our survival? How could I let people insult him through me? Insult my own child... the child who is my life?"

He quickly interrupted her in tears:

"Ukhty, wallahi, not even as a joke have I ever accused you..."

But she turned sharply toward him, her tone rising:

"So why are you forcing me to reveal Junior's family? Why do you disrespect Daddy? Why do you get angry with him all the time?"

She lifted his face with both hands. He could barely meet her eyes. In a trembling voice, he whispered:

"Forgive me, Ukhty. I'll never ask again, I promise. Please... forgive me."

She exhaled, long and tired:

"Many times when you question me, I feel proud, proud that my little brother has grown enough to distinguish right from wrong.

But what I want from you, Anuwar, is calmness. The time is near. I am close to giving you the answers, even the ones you never asked."

He held her hands and, with deep remorse, said:

"You walked through fire because of me. You suffered endlessly because of me. You endured, and still you made me a good man.

Whenever I hurt you, you carried my burden without complaint. And me? I have done nothing, not even a single thing. to bring you joy. Ukhty... please... ask me for anything, no matter how big. Just once. Let me do something for you..."

Tears flowed down his face again.

Nuratu smiled with strength, lifted his chin, and said:

"You've already done everything for me, Anuwar, the moment you became a good man."

She wiped his tears and playfully teased:

"Aren't you the one who said you're my guardian? Then you will be the one to marry me off."

He burst into laughter, shaking his head.

"I have no replacement for you. You are mother and father to me."

She smiled warmly.

"And you are the same to me, Anuwar."

She stood, cheerfully pulled him up, and led him to his bedroom. He lay down, and she tucked him in like a child.

"Don't forget your prayers. Sleep well."

He nodded, watching her as she turned off the light and locked the door behind her.

His thoughts immediately returned, all the ways he had failed to appreciate her. He knew how deeply it sometimes hurt her, especially growing up without a father figure.

He feared he often belittled her efforts simply because she was a woman. And as a man, he felt he needed to guide her, even though she often surpassed him. Many times he forgot she was a woman; she carried strength like a man.

But he acknowledged the truth: her weaknesses were few, and she endured everything with astonishing resilience. No matter how he treated her, she was always ahead. He had no choice but to surrender and love her the best he could.

With that thought, sleep finally took him.

As for Nuratu, she returned to her room and continued her nafilah prayers until dawn. After praying Fajr and reciting her adhkar, she finally lay down to rest.

THE NEXT MORNING

At exactly 9:47 a.m., Nuratu woke from a deep, tangled sleep filled with strange dreams she couldn't interpret. Almost all of them were about Ashraf, something that confused her deeply.

Being one of those few blessed individuals whose dreams often carried divine messages, she knew that whenever she dreamed, it was rarely random. Her dreams were usually warnings, guidance, or revelations.

The nature of last night's dream troubled her. Many times, what seemed unclear in her life became resolved through her dreams. That was why some people assumed she practiced magic. which was completely false.

Allah chooses certain servants and sends them messages through dreams, whether warnings or glad tidings.

Denying such a person simply because you yourself are not among the chosen is ignorance. Allah gives gifts to whom He wills, in whatever form He wills.

Slowly, she rolled out of her luxurious bed and walked toward one of her bedroom windows, which she had forgotten to close.

Before she reached it, faint noise drifted upward. She pulled the curtain aside with both hands, and a soft morning breeze brushed over her. Even though the weather was chilly, it felt refreshing.

She closed her eyes for a moment as her body settled into calmness. When she opened them, she looked toward the source of the noise.

There, in the courtyard, she saw Anuwar and Junior, dressed in expensive tracksuits, Anuwar in blue with white stripes, Junior in black, playing football.

She stood watching them with a smile. Just then, Junior fired the ball straight at Anuwar's leg. Anuwar fell dramatically to the ground, pretending he had been defeated. Junior, thinking it was real, jumped excitedly and shouted:

"I won! I won!"

Everyone knew that if Anuwar finished a football game without being declared the winner, there would be drama. But Junior took the game too seriously.

Their playful behavior warmed her heart. As she watched from above, her smile widened. At that moment, Anuwar looked up and spotted her.

He pointed her out to Junior. Junior instantly began jumping and pointing at her, bragging triumphantly to show he had defeated his uncle.

Nuratu gave him a soldier-style salute and told them to come inside because the cold was too much. Then she shut her window and headed to the bathroom.