I was sitting in the middle of our courtyard, reviewing my book, as I had my JAMB exam coming up in two weeks. My focus was divided: part of it on the English I was studying, and part of it worrying about where Mimi had gone. She had left after Asr prayer and hadn’t come back yet. I sighed, thinking about how I would reprimand her for going out alone in the evening, knowing I didn’t like it.

A little girl, about four years old, as fair-skinned as an Arab due to her beauty, entered the courtyard. She was wearing a worn-out but clean dress that reached her ankles. The bottom of her dress had traces of dirt, indicating she had been playing outside.

Since she entered, I had been staring at her, silently praising God for her beauty. Mimi was exceptionally fair, with a round face, large eyes, a long nose that perfectly suited her face, and a small, reddish mouth. I glanced at her hair, which was braided but so long that the tail almost reached her waist.

I closed my eyes, feeling a tear well up, and heard her sweet, pleading voice next to me, saying, "Maa, please forgive me. Hidiya asked me to come play in their garden."

I just looked at her, focusing on her cheeks and the dimple on her right cheek, which added to her charm. With a stern face and a bit of a scolding tone, I said, "Didn't I tell you not to go out? So you think you can ignore me, huh, Mimi, and leave without my permission?"

Her eyes filled with tears, and she held her ears with her hands, saying, "Maa, I'm sorry. I won't do it again. Please don't be mad at me."

From behind us, Umma, who had just come out of the room, laughed and said, "Come here, my friend. You know Maa can't stay mad at you."

Mimi shrugged her shoulders and said, "But Umma, she hasn't forgiven me yet."

I pulled her close, full of affection, and said, "I forgive you, baby. But don’t go out without telling me again, okay?"

She nodded, resting her head on my chest, continuing to plead with me, and I played along. Umma just shook her head, fighting back tears.

We were all sitting in the courtyard—Umma and Mimi on the mat, and I was in the kitchen—when Aysha walked in, wearing her Islamic school uniform.

I came out, holding a spoon, and said, "You came back early today, Aysha. Where are Kamal and the others?"

She sat down on the mat, dropping her bag tiredly, and said, "They're on their way, Ya Batul. I couldn't wait for them because I'm so tired. My leg hurts."

I laughed and said, "That’s why I said, take it easy. You’re almost done with school. Make sure to rest."

She looked at Mimi and said, "So you didn't go to Islamic school today, huh? Your teacher said she'll punish you tomorrow."

Mimi pouted and said, "I wasn't feeling well. My head hurt, and Maa said I should rest. I'll go tomorrow."

I was about to say something when Kamal and the others arrived. I looked at them, noticing Kamal was blowing his nose and sweating profusely, indicating he wasn’t feeling well.