Fear and anxiety made her unable to return home; she ended up sitting on the edge of a yard, watching people pass by heading to the mosque to perform Friday prayer.
She stayed there until people started returning from the mosque. Haladu passed by and shook his head at her. She returned the gesture and watched him until he left their lane. She felt certain by the way he hurried that he intended to tell someone what had happened — and that would surely upset her — because they were used to him visiting their house whenever he came to buy food.
Because his house was shared by many, he would come in without prior notice and greet them loudly.
She answered and came out of the kitchen with a small pot of stew turning in her hand.
She said, “Haladu, has he returned already?”
He replied, “Yes, by God.” He immediately went to the place where they normally sit and took off his cap.
She asked, “Will you buy bread and stew or rice and stew?”
He sighed, rubbed his head, and said, “Today I want rice — I’m tired of floury foods. The last two times I came home and sneaked behind the house, I kept hitting the tap because I was getting dizzy — I was shouting! This is a real problem, by God.”
Saliha, who was slicing watermelon, laughed and looked at him. His face frowned and he grumbled. She continued laughing until she was satisfied, then grew quiet.
After he had eaten three spoonfuls, he said, “Mother, tell me — where did that girl go?”
Baba Asabe asked, “Do you mean Shahida?” He said, “Yes, exactly.” She replied, “I told you before I left for the mosque that I sent her to the hospital area — she’s still not back.”
He shook his head and said, “I saw her down at the old madman’s spot by the roadside, crying. When I asked her, she told me everything…” He told her all that had happened.
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