It was a Saturday, so Nooratu got ready early to go to work. She knew that their business on weekends was bustling since it was a day off for most people. She arrived at 7 a.m. and quickly changed into her work clothes. She hurriedly fetched the mop and cleaning supplies, intending to tidy up the reception area before people started coming in, as the kitchen staff were already finishing up some of the food preparations.
She was engrossed in mopping and singing her Arabic song, "Habibiyaaaaa Mohd, ataita bissalami wal huda Mohd..." even though she didn't know it well. She would hum "hunnnn hunnnn" where she didn't know the words and then sing loudly when she did.
He had entered and greeted her three times without her hearing him. He stood silently behind her, smiling at her earnestness.
She thought she saw a reflection of a shiny, expensive men's shoe on the glass door of her office. Startled, she stepped back three paces and then turned around completely to see who was behind her.
She saw a distinguished-looking man dressed in a sharp shadda outfit, tailored like those influencers who spend extravagantly on their clothes, costing around 150k naira.
He wasn't wearing a cap, and his well-maintained hair, shiny as if oiled, indicated wealth and careful grooming, resembling that of a half-caste. His beard was equally well-groomed, making him look more like a well-off gentleman than a religious scholar. His eyes were hidden behind stylish black sunglasses with gold detailing on the bridge.
She gave him a puzzled look, trying to recall where she had seen his face before. His intoxicating designer perfume was almost overwhelming her senses.
She pressed her nose with the back of her hand, trying to remember where she knew him from.
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