"Father, please, you need this more than I do, for God's sake." He turned his head aside, unable to move due to his illness. His mouth was twisted in pain, and tears streamed down his face. She quickly put the cup down and wiped his tears. "Father, have I upset you? Please forgive me. I promise I won't do it again, In Sha Allah." Slowly, he began to speak. "Jiddah, you haven't done anything wrong. In fact, I don't need anything to enter my mouth..." She interrupted him quickly. "Don't say that, Father. If you don't take your medicine, what will happen? Your health is more important to me than anything else. You and Mama are my only support. When I lean on you, I feel comfort. You are my happiness. Please, take it. You didn't eat anything yesterday."

"Jiddah, I feel my failure. I should be out there providing for you and your mother. But look at me now. I've failed you. My relatives, who should support me, have all abandoned me. Everyone avoids me because I'm poor. I'm a pauper!" He burst into tears. Mama, who had just come out of the bathroom, approached and gently placed the water pot she was holding down, struggling to stand up due to her aging body. "Have patience. Allah is aware of our situation. This is a test, not because He dislikes us, but to test our faith. We thank Him every day. Oh Allah, You who created Adam and Eve, please help us. On this blessed Friday, grant my husband Usama good health." Jiddah, who was holding her father, echoed, "Ameen, Mama."

She touched her stomach and shook her head, not having eaten since yesterday. She had managed to get some food from the neighbors after doing some chores for them. "Asama'u, take this cup and drink." Mama said. "No, Usama should drink it so he can take his medicine." Usama replied, "Asma'u, I don't want any arguments. You need it more than I do. My only wish is to see my family's happiness and to clear the debt I owe to Mu'azzan before I die. I pray Allah shows me a way to achieve this."

"Leave us to whom, Usama?" "There is Allah," he replied. Turning to Jiddah, he said, "Take this to your mother. May Allah bless you, protect your honor, and keep you away from the evil of deceitful men." Jiddah took the cup and brought it to her mother. "Open your mouth, Mama, let me feed you." Without hesitation, her mother opened her mouth. After three sips, the cup was empty. Asma'u closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face, hunger clawing at her.

Jiddah threw the cup aside and called out, "Mama, what's wrong?" "Nothing, Jiddah," she replied.

They sat in silence. Jiddah got up, picked up the water pot her mother had left, and went to fill it. She noticed the bucket was empty. "I'm going to fetch water," she announced. They wished her well as she left. Asma'u moved closer to her husband, resting her head on the mat beside him. "I want to touch your face, but I can't. Could you help me by bringing my hand to your face?" She began to sob softly, holding his hand and placing it on her face. However, he couldn't move it. This made her cry even harder. "Why is it like this? Why don't some people consider the future? Why do some forget acts of kindness? Is this the reward for helping others? Usama, you've brought this calamity upon us. Why did you bring this misfortune upon us? Look at me; my youth has turned into old age. Look at my stomach. We can't even afford food. What did we do wrong? You brought us to this state. Our daughter can't go to school; she's the one finding food for us. A girl who doesn't even get to bathe regularly is taking care of us now. Oh Allah, help us."

"Asma'u, have patience. I feel her pain too. I see everyone avoiding her, showing her disdain and rejection. I never imagined it would be this way. I intended good for her, but she repaid me with betrayal, taking my son away and destroying everything I had. Look at what she turned me into. IT'S MY FAULT." (This is also the theme of my new book, which will be out soon, God willing).

"Asma'u." She looked up to see tears streaming down his face. She wiped his tears and then wiped her own. "The way you called my name tells me you want to discuss something important. May Allah guide my understanding to hear good news." "Indeed, it is an important matter, and I want you to understand it well. Look ahead and don't dwell on the past. If you do, the devil will mislead you and make you disobey me, which would bring me no comfort. After much thought and consideration, Asma'u, I have decided..." He paused, contemplating how she would react. She interrupted, "You have decided to give Hauwa'u in marriage to Mu'azzan, isn't that what you want to say? You are hesitant to speak because you fear I won't agree, right? But you don't know him. He has three wives already, and this is purely a business deal. I believe he doesn't care about the money because he has plenty. Hauwa won't be able to endure being a fourth wife. I am sure she will suffer greatly. She doesn't know what life is about yet. She will turn fourteen next month..."

He interrupted her, "Who is closer to you than I am?" She lowered her head. "Who has the right to choose a husband for Jiddah? Between you and me, who has the authority over her? Who besides me can make that decision? A father is the dignity of his daughter. A girl's honor lies in her husband's house."