Chapter 25: Nikkai at the Mosque

The door opens with a bizarre force and I am left with the view of my elder sister, Yemisi who is holding her favorite pistol in hand along with my husband, Mustafa. Tears cascade down his cheeks as our eyes meet. I could tell just how delighted he felt from the depths of his heart to see that I was alive and safe but I was not happy to see him.

I wish he never even went through the stress of looking for me because watching him make sacrificial deeds for my sake when I was far from deserving of it made my soul sink deeper than it already was in the chasms of ill feeling which aches me to term as "guilt".

I didn't want to feel guilty.

I was used to having people feel guilty about the things they did to me. People like my mother for example but looking at him alone did bewildering torture to my gut. It made the arms of shame itself squeeze my throat dry. Mustafa loved me dearly and ethereally but I made him bear the painful, cruel price for ever loving me.

He looked out for me genuine