Aisha Muhammad Novels & Stories

“Did this not go through any due process before dissemination? People would literarily just wake up one morning and shoot videos like this without caring what exactly would happen to the younger generation if they saw it.” Aisha was a staunch and devoted Muslim. She prayed five times daily and fasted for as long as she could. She observed the laws in the Holy Quran and did everything that Allah requested of her. She gave alms from time to time and also went on Hajj whenever she could. This was why things like this disturbed her. “I have a daughter who is clocking nine very soon. I have a daughter who is growing up to be a woman someday. I have started to teach her from now never to allow the

Different is what I need right now. Leaving the bathroom with a solemn promise to myself, I hop on a different train and pray that whatever the future has for me will be good. After sitting, an older woman is scolding her daughter, whom she calls "Ashanti." Ashanti. I love it. Ashanti Dunbar. Perfect.

*********FLASHBACK********** Paulina was sobbing on Isabel’s lifeless body, not planning on letting go, no matter how Xavi urged her to, when she felt a very weak pulse at the side of Isabel’s neck. She quickly gestured for Xavi to get the pack doctor, which he did without hesitation, even though he had no idea why his aunt was asking for the pack doctor. Fernando assisted Paulina in taking Isabel’s body inside the house while Xavi hurried to the pack hospital to get the doctor. She wiped Isabel’s injured body clean with a wet towel and waited for the doctor’s arrival.

Leah Sullivan had never wanted to slap someone so bad! She sat in one of the two black leather armchairs across from her father’s large mahogany desk, and stared at her father, King Marcus. The only outward sign that she was anything other than the calm, unaffected facade she presented was a slightly raised eyebrow.

Gogo Ramatu said crying the same way as Tehzeeb "Gogo Ramatu take heart,Aisha does not need your tears now but prayers. Every living soul shall taste death, whenever death arrived at your door step you shouldn't cry rather pray because you have no idea how the grave is. Please pray for her, she doesn't deserve your tears" Mrs Habiba said trying her possible best to control her own tears

"Salam. Bakhsish (thank you) dear. It's not very heavy.'' She replied in a kind voice. I gaped at her entranced. However, hearing what she said made me a feel bit down. I mean yeah she must have done this her entire life, what would she need my help for. ''Oh. Okay. Yeah...Sorry for disturbing you.'' I returned awkwardly. I couldn't hide my disappointment despite trying. Meanwhile, she smiled softly watching me with her warm blue eyes. I turned to leave with a nod, when I heard her call out. "Though, I would like it if you could help me with this one." I watched her extending the basket in her hand to me, in shock. Taking turns, looking between her and the basket, I broke into a wide smile

" Does this means I get to join the boys abroad?" He wrinkled his nose at me. " You're not joining the boys abroad. I told you before, we operate in small scale over there. And point of correction, she's not a white woman, she's a Nigerian widow. Her husband died a year ago and left her all his wealth. She's one of the richest women in the country presently. You might've heard of Mrs Johnson Aisha." Mrs Johnson Aisha. Ofcourse I've heard of her. She was the wife of one of the country's top billionaire. The mysterious thing about her was that no one ever knew what she looks like. It was said she hated publicity but that wasn't my concern now.

I can't tear my eyes off of her. She has ivory complexion, with thick brown locks. She's petite, not even reached my shoulder at best. And she has breathtaking pair of heterochromic blue and yellow eyes, completed with a small nose and plump pink lips, oval shaped face, and a perfect curves. Beautiful is an understatement.

She has broken two of her coffee mugs over the smallest argument, she almost fired someone for bringing the ‘wrong’ brown coloured belt and she hasn’t spared me a look all morning. I knew why she was ignoring me, I wasn’t stupid. She was the kind of woman who has never been vulnerable in front of someone, she was always in power. Yesterday night makes her feel ashamed and mortified so she is trying to show me that she doesn’t even care who I am and doesn’t even know that I exist.

She pointed to the man sitting closest to her and he stood up to introduce himself. One by one, the others followed; Rose nodded and smiled at each of them. Some of them were wary, others curious and the rest unbothered. But nobody was outwardly hostile until the last lady stood up. She was slim, dark skinned and pretty. She looked to be in her mid-thirties and her full afro suited her perfectly. There was an unmistakable look of scorn on her face when she stood up. “Aisha Idris, Assistant Chief Marketing Officer.” She said icily before having her seat once again.