Chapter Three

"I'm worried for her, she's twenty eight and married to her job. You know this is entirely your fault." His wife said folding her veils in accordance to color on her wardrobe.

"I don't get how it's my fault your adult daughter isn't interested in getting married." He said rolling over to look at her.

"Well you caused it, it's always Sabeerah acquire those buildings, Sabeerah make sure construction starts today, Sabeerah why hasn't the roofing equipments been delivered?" She said turning to look at him with accusing eyes.

"Well the family business must move." He said shrugging.

"Yes but she needs to be married AbdulMalik, these men are even intimidated by her, why don't you reduce her workload?" She asked softly.

"I can't do that, Sabeerah is useful to the companies."

"But you don't appreciate her enough and Aakhil works less, he's the one who's going to be in charge one day, why don't you give him as much work? Sabeerah is working in both companies, isn't it high time to let her stick to one?" She closed the wardrobe and came to join her husband on the bed.

"Sabeerah would always be there to help him run the company, that's why she's his sister and as for her getting married, I'll leave that up to you, find her a suitor if you're that interested in her marital status."

"I'm not just interested, I'm also worried and you should be too but you think if she gets married she's going to put in less work at the company right?"

"Aisha please do whatever you want and let me sleep, I have work tomorrow."

"Fine, fine. I hope she agrees to whoever I find this time around."

•••• •••• •••• ••••

On most days, Sabeerah loved her mother, not as much as she did her father but she loved her nonetheless, today wasn't one of those days.

The day had started normally, she'd woken up for fajr prayers and after praying, she read the Qur'an for few minutes, went to the gym in the basement and exercised for half an hour before going to take a shower and dressed up for work.

She was applying lip gloss when she heard a knock on the door.

"Come in." She said as she proceeded to tying her veil turban style on her head.

"Habibty you're going to work already?"

Sabeerah's eyes flitted over to her mom who was looking comfy in her robe. For as long as she could remember, her mother had always been a housewife, she enjoyed cooking and was comfortable with her life... Sabeerah could never.

"Yes Umma, I have to survey the site work going on at Kuje, then meet with the owners of the property behind Glaze plaza before heading to the office."

"I wanted to discuss something with you if you have time."

Sabeerah sighed. "I honestly don't, perhaps when I come back."

"It's urgent Hajrah." Her mother said sternly. She's never called her Sabeerah ever, it was mostly Habibty which meant my love or the name she'd given her, Hajrah.

"Fine. What is it now?" She asked finally turning to look at her mom who'd settled herself on Sabeerah's bed. Age had done her mother well, she was still stunning.

"It's been long I saw you with a man..."

"Umma." Sabeerah complained, why couldn't her mother let her be with all these talk about being married. She was aware that is was weird that she didn't have even at least a boyfriend at the age of twenty eight, especially considering the tribe she was from. Extended families had complained to her mom about it but none of them had the nerves to talk to her personally, she didn't care if you were older, her mouth had no filter.

"Don't Umma me, aren't you tired? Of being alone?"

Sabeerah rolled her eyes. "I'm not alone, I have my job and..."

"Your job, it's always about your job. This was exactly what I was talking to your dad about, he needs to cut your workload so you can focus on what's important and it's certainly not that job."

Panic seized her, if her father cuts her workload that meant she wouldn't have the opportunity to prove herself to him. Blast marriage!

"Umma it hasn't gotten to that fah," She began in a soft tone, "okay what do you suggest now?"

"Well I don't know, it all depends on you because somehow you always reject everyone I set you up with."

"That's because they're idiots."

Her mother always set her up with her friends sons, somehow these set of men had the same mindset and considered themselves traditional men, she honestly had no idea what was wrong with most of the Hausa men she'd met, boldly telling her that their wives wouldn't work or she'd have to reduce her work time and she had to always be able to make their dinner, not a maid, a hired chef but her.

She, Sabeerah AbdulMalik who'd never bothered with cooking, was now going to be some man's personal chef and what happened to him cooking? But they'd found her suggestion appalling and she'd had to walk out on these stupid meetings, she could've done something better at the office rather than wasting her time with these silly idiots.

"Okay so what kind of men do you want?" Her mother asked excitedly.

"Well for starters, I don't want a sexist, none of that misogyny around me. Can he be a busy man too? A really busy man please."

A busy man wouldn't have time for her too because she was very sure she wouldn't give a care in this world about him, she was too busy with chasing her goals for any distraction.

"A busy man? You're busy, he's busy, how'd you both have time for each other?" Her mother asked worriedly.

Sabeerah sighed dramatically, "this is the problem Umma, you don't let me have a choice, this is exactly why I and the men you set me up never work out."

"Okay fine, he should be extremely busy, he shouldn't be a sexist, what next?"

She grinned mischievously. "He shouldn't be functional."

Her mom's brows knitted in confusion. "Functional how?"

"Like in the bedroom area, he should be asexual." She finished off with a laugh at her mom's glare.

"Just joking Umma, just joking." She said hugging her mom.

"Don't joke like that again." Her mother warned.

"Yes boss lady." She picked up a bag that went with her outfit, a turtle neck long sleeve to match the February's chilling weather, with a Palazzo trouser.

"Is that all, what about looks?" Her mother asked fearing she wasn't being serious with the whole thing.

"As long as he's tall, it's okay. I'm good looking enough for the both of us." Those were her parting words as she hurried away, glad she'd chosen flats.

At Kuje site, she gave instructions to the leader of the construction workers, laid complained, listened to some, surveyed the work done and when she was satisfied, she headed off to Glaze plaza.

The owners were an old-aged couple and the building was a two story dilapidated one that used to be a hotel, it had seen better days though, a very long time ago definitely. They lived on the ground floor of the building and Sabeerah prayed that if they don't sell it to their company, it'd one day collapse killing them both and their greed... Good riddance!

"Hello, good morning." She greeted with a pleasant smile on her face as soon as the wife had opened the door.

"Good morning, how can I help you?"

"You probably don't remember me from the other day, I'm Miss Sabeerah from Shar'ib real estate company."

A smile broadened the woman's face and Sabeerah could literally see the money counting machine in her head working... Money monger kawai!

"Do come in." The woman stepped away to let Sabeerah in. The house had a modest looking interior, a very modest one with the walls peeling off, an outdated television set, a single couch and torn carpeted floors.

"Your home is very beautiful ma'am." Sabeerah said sarcastically.

"Oh well, it's seen better days. I'll call my husband." She said exiting to an inner room. Sabeerah didn't know if to sit on the lone couch, where'd her hosts then sit? Oh well, she thought as she settled herself on the couch, they'll just sit on the floor, it'll remind them how uncomfortable their standard of living were in case they thought of rejecting her offer.

"... And I did hear from a reliable source the minister of works is thinking of signing an agreement with the foreign company to start the railway project, if that happens it's going to pass through here, the owners of Glaze plaza has been using all their connection to make sure it doesn't happen but they aren't strong enough and neither are you, obviously." Sabeerah said giving the house a look over as if to prove her point.

"But a strong company like Shar'ib can definitely do that. My father Mr AbdulMalik Sambo is close friends with the minister and if he was the owner of this building, the minister would never bother with signing a contract to demolish it, so it's in your hands now, sell the building to Shar'ib for twenty million or let it get demolished and wait for payment of damage control that'll maybe take years before you get the money and for probably less than ten million." She deadpanned smiling internally at the look of fear that registered in the couple faces.

The husband found his voice first, "how're we to believe you? For all we know you could be lying just to get us to sell it to you for less it's worth."

Less it's worth indeed, and yes she was lying but they didn't need to know that.

"Well you could go do your findings but like I said, it's all hush-hush and by the time the minister signs the contract it'll be all out in the open and my company is not going to buy your building because there's no influence Shar'ib will have over the minister again, a signed deal is a signed deal." She finished up, picking her bag as she got up.

In few minutes she was on her way to the company with the owners at the backseat ready to go sign a contract. Sabeerah didn't care about the old people smell that'll linger on her car later, Joe would take care of it, all she cared about was the money counting machine working in her head at the money they'll be making once they'd finish putting up a grand hotel, right after demolishing that eyesore inhibiting the space of course.