FADEELAH

About this Novel

Strolling leisurely, she exudes an air of helpfulness. Draped in a floor-length brown jalbab Hijab, with a modest handbag slung over her shoulder, her measured pace belies her sharp intellect and contemplative demeanor. Even in her brisk stride, a serene composure prevails, a placidity that accompanies her. The interior is cramped, the domicile diminutive with just two rooms, excluding the servants' quarters and their petite kitchen. With a nod, she entered the abode.Emerging from the kitchen, a mature woman, not exceeding forty, noticed her cooking with eyes stinging from the smoke. Upon hearing Fadeelah's salutation, she emerged, scrutinizing the greeting before uttering, "Fadeela. Back so soon today?" With a detached tone, Fadeela responded, "My apologies, Mother. Is Father home yet?" The gullible woman directed Fadeelah back to her cooking. Sinking onto a seat, Fadila, or Guri, removed her Hijab. While seated, a girl, her sister's kin, approached, querying, "Aunty, are you home? When Dad returned, he mentioned that his vacation hasn't ended, instructing you to resume work." Her sister's words jolted Fadeelah.