When he finished, she warmed water and practically carried him to the bathroom like a child. He bathed, and began to feel fresh air filling his lungs. She made him perform ablution and he began making up his missed prayers.

“Sayyid,” she said, “don’t say you must do all of them now. They are many. Make them up gradually.”

He only nodded. He started standing but soon had to sit. She watched him quietly — some of their habits were so similar.

No matter his condition, as long as he still had his mind, he never joked with prayer. She believed he must have been like this even before: very strict with prayer.

Around 3:30 a.m. he said, “I can’t finish… my breathing.”

“Will you pray lying down?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I prefer sitting, or standing.”

She opened the window; he was sweating heavily. She spread a prayer mat for him by the door, arranged pillows, and he lay down. She sat beside him, fanning him. She placed her hand on his forehead, reciting whatever came to her heart.

He slipped his hand into her clothing even with his eyes closed. She smiled and continued. When he tickled her, she lay beside him laughing. He laughed too.

“Lie close to me,” he said, pointing beside him.

Before she could move, someone flashed a torchlight at them. Shocked, he buried his face in Nana’s thigh, hiding himself. Nana covered her face.

Barira’s voice said, “Sorry please… I heard movement and got scared. I came to check. Sorry.”

She turned off the torch and left.

“Sayyid, I know you didn’t like that. Sorry,” Nana whispered.

He remained silent, face still buried. She stroked his hair. “My chief, talk to me. I’m happy — you slept for four days without speaking to me. Don’t let someone else’s mistake affect me.”

He slowly turned.

“Good… my life,” he said.

“Have you stopped vomiting?” he asked unexpectedly.

“Yes, I’ve stopped.”

“May Allah make you give birth this time.”

“Amen. And may Allah give you good health so you’ll raise both my children — the older one and the younger one.”

He smiled. “Insha Allah. Before you give birth, if I recover, I’ll find a job and take care of you both.”

“Amen. But Sayyid… the money I saw in your wardrobe the other day — I didn’t see it when packing. We would have used it for your treatment and to change houses.”

“Habu took it the last time he came. He took almost all the Nigerian money, left me with some Niger currency. Check my things properly — they’re inside.”

“