Tabarmar Kashi Book 1 Complete Huguma

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She didn't tease her again after they went online. They greeted each other, and then Sāahar asked her about Fadeela's condition.
"There is something terrible inside it," she replied, her heart sinking as she wondered if there was anything wrong.
"Like what?" Afifa asked her, feeling anxious that Fadeela might fall victim to another harmful situation like the previous ones. Calmly, Sāahar told her everything, and shortly after, a series of voice notes arrived. Afifa let out a sigh of relief after listening to all of them. Everything Afifa said made complete sense, and Sāahar was glad for the encouragement she poured out.
"But Afifa, how can she survive without medication?"
"Yes, her illness needs treatment; otherwise, it will keep worsening. So, I am going to prescribe some medications for you. She will take them, and they will help, In sha Allah. But before that, get a history of her illness, how it affects her when it triggers, and its origin. Put those other things aside since there is no authenticity in them." They discussed at length, and Sāahar felt comforted by Afifa's advice on how to care for Fadeela—advice that made Sāahar realize many mistakes she had been making in handling the child.
They didn't log off until late into the night. When it was almost time, Sāahar logged off, performed Wudu, and stood up for night prayers as she always did. She laid her needs before her Lord with eyes full of tears. This was a secret part of her life that no one knew except Afifa. When she finished, she went out to check on Fadeela, rearranged her sleeping position, covered her completely, and pulled the room's door shut as she left. In her heart, she felt it was improper to leave the child sleeping entirely alone given such a serious condition, as an attack could strike her at any moment.
THE NEXT DAY
She realized that everything in the house operated on a sort of "Jewish schedule"—mornings felt like nights because no one woke up early at all. Only Fadeela was prepared, given breakfast, dressed, and sent off to school. Everyone lived their own life; they would cross paths to greet one another, complete their individual tasks, and move on, unless a specific duty brought them together.
As soon as she finished dressing Fadeela and the driver took her away, Sāahar entered the girl's room. By herself, she cleaned the entire room, removed every sharp object that could harm Fadeela if her illness triggered, organized everything, and placed items where a fall wouldn't cause injury.
She made a list of large teddy bears among the things Fadeela requested, wanting them placed in various spots so the room wouldn't be cluttered with anything sharp or hard. Sudden medical triggers were unpredictable, and she wanted to create a makeshift first-aid environment even when no one was around.
While she was in the middle of cleaning, the cleaner walked in, but Sāahar dismissed her right away. She walked into Fadeela's walk-in closet herself; it was filled with beautiful, expensive, luxury clothes, though signs showed many of them had never been worn, or perhaps no one bothered to dress her in them. Sāahar cleaned and reorganized everything meticulously. She didn't leave the room until past one o'clock, right when she bumped into Baaba Ramatu.
Baaba Ramatu stepped back respectfully, her face beaming with a smile. "I noticed the silence was too long, so I thought of checking on you."
Sāahar smiled. "I was inside cleaning Fadeela's room."
"Ah, where is Mabaruka?"
"I dismissed her; there was some cleaning I needed to do in the room myself."
"Well done, good job," Baaba Ramatu said. Deep down, she felt that Fadeela had finally found a nanny who would be very hard to fire. From yesterday until today, she had already noticed a world of difference compared to all the previous nannies.
Within just one week, Sāahar fully grasped all the household's routines and figured out how to coexist with everyone. In that single week, she and Fadeela developed an intense bond. The child possessed an infectious charm paired with a sharp intelligence reflected in her academic brilliance.
Gradually, all the tasks previously handled by other house staff—preparing Fadeela's meals, cleaning her room, sorting her laundry, and sending it to the laundry room—were completely taken over by Sāahar. Fadeela looked up to her with immense respect, feeling that Sāahar surpassed everyone else in the house. Within less than a month, they became like mother and daughter. Sāahar wouldn't return to her own room until Fadeela fell asleep. When Fadeela woke up in the morning, the first thing she would hear was a knock—if she heard that specific knock, she knew it was Fadeela. They would finish getting ready for school together.
Even Fadeela's school lessons now fell under Sāahar's care. Although Fadeela still disliked her private tutor, Sāahar noticed a weakness in her Islamic education. She sat down and personally mapped out a curriculum to start teaching her, though she wished the child could attend a formal Islamiyya school, she just didn't know how to approach the family heads about it.
As for Sāahar, taking care of Fadeela brought her pure joy, completely easing her longing for children and keeping her away from any male presence, just as she desired. She felt secluded, completely out of everyone's sight, and found absolute peace and satisfaction in the house.
Regarding Hajiyar Karama—whom she initially feared might be a problem—Sāahar realized she didn't seem bothered by their wing at all, going days without visiting unless Fadeela went to her. But was Fadeela truly her granddaughter? If so, how could such a distant relationship exist between a grandmother and granddaughter? She wanted to know their history and who Hajiyar Karama truly was to Fadeela, but she wasn't the type to meddle in affairs she believed didn't concern her.
It was a few minutes past five in the evening when a sleek, mid-sized car drove into the compound. Its arrival coincided with the house staff rushing out within two minutes, eager to greet the owner of the car while protecting their own dignity.
The car door opened, and she barked an order at one of the staff members who hurried over, chewing gum lazily. "Carry my handbag."
"Tom," the girl muttered, opening the other side where the bag was and taking it.
"Goodness me, someone acts like she owns the world with sheer arrogance and pointless pride," Labiba muttered under her breath as she walked away, letting out a soft grumble.
"What did you say?" Labiba asked, turning around sharply.
The staff member forced a panicked smile. "N... nothing, I just said welcome back."
Labiba didn't say another word. She walked off, leaving them to lock the car and secure the keys. She walked with supreme arrogance, wearing tight skinny jeans that hugged her thick lower body and accentuated her pointed curves, though her flattened chest under a tight t-shirt disrupted the silhouette. A braided attachment cascaded down her back, peeking out from beneath a short, loosely tied veil that barely covered her neck.
She headed toward Hajiyar Karama's quarters, but upon learning she was out, she changed direction and headed toward Fadeela's section. She wanted to befriend the child, but the problem was she didn't know how to approach her or win her over.
At that exact moment, Sāahar was sitting with Fadeela in their second sitting room on the carpet. Fadeela was eating while Sāahar monitored her and reviewed her school homework from that day.
Sāahar wore a loose brown chiffon gown paired with a matching plain chiffon veil that was slightly lighter than her dress. Her beautiful face was fresh, her skin glowing without a single blemish or pimple. Her pink lips shone with lip balm. Her slender fingers turned the pages of the notebook one by one, checking Fadeela's performance on her previous homework.
Twice, Fadeela opened her mouth to speak, but Sāahar gently pressed a finger to her lips. "Shh, shh, shh." Sāahar knew she wanted to praise the meal she had cooked herself today. On the third attempt, Fadeela tilted her head. "Please Aunty, let me say something."
The way she said it made Sāahar burst into laughter. She closed the notebook with a smile, her eyes on Fadeela. "Say it, Fadee."
"Wallahi Aunty, I have never tasted food this delicious; it's like it came straight from Paradise."
Unable to help it, Sāahar burst into laughter. She reached out, grabbed a cushion, and placed it beside Fadeela. "Let me brace you in case the praise makes you faint." They both laughed and continued eating.
"Please Aunty Nanny, will you keep cooking for me? Even the food I take to school, please! I know my food tastes better than everyone else's."
Sāahar closed her eyes and nodded. Given how she felt about Fadeela, there was nothing she wouldn't do for her. "Alright, but if this week ends and you haven't finished memorizing Surah Al-A'la, I'll stop. Do you agree?"
"I agree, Aunty! I promise by the day after tomorrow I'll finish."
Sāahar widened her eyes in disbelief. "Really?"
Fadeela nodded vigorously.
"Hi, Fadeela." Labiba's voice cut through the air. Neither of them had noticed her arrival or presence in the room.
They both looked up almost simultaneously, and Sāahar's eyes locked directly with Labiba's.
Labiba stepped back slightly, a flicker of shock crossing her features. Ya salam, she whispered internally, swallowing a hard lump in her throat. Where on earth did they find this inside the house? She wanted to direct the question at the strange face, but looking into Sāahar's eyes sent a wave of intimidation through her.
Sāahar was the first to look away, feeling slightly annoyed that Labiba had barged in uninvited and stood towering over them. She returned her attention to the notebook without bothering to look back up, though deep down, the face felt oddly familiar, as if she had seen it somewhere before.
Labiba walked over, sat near Fadeela, and tried to engage her in chatter, casting stolen glances at Sāahar, who kept her eyes strictly away. Even if it was the custom of this house to act like foreigners, at the very least, since they were Muslims, she could have offered the Islamic greeting of peace.
"I'm done, Aunty," Fadeela announced, setting down her water bottle.
"Good. Let me get your hijab; we're starting Qur'an." Sāahar closed the book and stood up to go to Fadeela's room.
Labiba watched her go, a deep sense of unease washing over her. Even as a woman, she had to admit that Sāahar possessed a breathtaking, intoxicating beauty mixed with an aura of quiet confidence. The sudden realization of this woman's existence in the house struck Labiba with a sharp pang of anxiety and jealousy. She turned her gaze to Fadeela, who was diligently clearing her plate and wiping the table with a tissue—something Labiba had never seen the child do before.
"Who is this, Uktie?" Labiba asked.
Fadeela merely glanced at her. True to her reserved nature, before she could say anything, Baaba Ramatu walked into the lounge carrying a humidifier—she knew Sāahar loved its fragrance, and since the old one broke, she had replaced it. Baaba Ramatu respected Sāahar's preferences immensely, privately admitting that in all her time working in the house, she had never enjoyed living with anyone as much as Sāahar.
"Welcome back," Baaba Ramatu said, glancing at Labiba.
"When did we start having strangers in this house?" Labiba fired back without acknowledging the greeting.
"She's not a stranger; she's the one taking care of Fadeela now."
Instantly, Labiba's face brightened into a mocking laugh. "Ah, Ramatu, just call her a nanny, no need to strain your tongue."
She made this remark right as Sāahar walked back into the room holding Fadeela's ironed hijab—one of the ones Sāahar had sewn for her with her own money because she arrived to find Fadeela had no decent clothes aside from her tight school uniforms.
Their eyes met, and Labiba's remaining words choked in her throat. She stood up from her seat, muttering, "I'll wait for Mommy in her quarters. Fadeela, enjoy your new nanny." She patted Fadeela's head and hurried out of the room.
Baaba Ramatu placed the humidifier down with a heavy heart. She knew everyone in this house inside out. She sat down as Sāahar began placing the hijab on Fadeela. Deep down, Baaba Ramatu analyzed Labiba's look and words. She understood their meaning clearly, but what baffled her was why, from the very first meeting and without a single word exchanged, such intense jealousy burned in Labiba's eyes.
"That is Labiba. You could say she is a step-sister to Fadeela—she's the daughter of Toufeeq's father's other wife. She has some unpleasant traits at times, so you'll need patience with her," Baaba Ramatu advised quietly.
Sāahar calmly raised her head, looked at Baaba Ramatu, and flashed a rare, radiant smile before picking up their books. "Don't worry, Baaba Ramatu. Patience with her won't even be necessary, since I have no business with her."
Baaba Ramatu nodded thoughtfully. She knew Sāahar was patient, gentle, and quiet, never loud or quarrelsome. But Labiba? She believed that even if Sāahar minded her own business, Labiba would surely meddle in hers. She could only pray for divine protection.
HUGUMA
TABARMAR KASHI
Page 63
A heavy lump sat in Labiba's throat. She wanted to walk past Hajiyar Karama's quarters, but her legs failed her. She sat on a chair in the courtyard, panting and letting out breath after breath. Nothing flashed in her mind except Sāahar's striking beauty, her composed demeanor, and an overpowering aura that commanded absolute presence. How could life in this house continue with such a woman around—and in the role of nanny to the creature Toufeeq loved above everyone and everything else in the world? How could she allow them to breathe the same air? Had Hajiyar Karama's eyes gone blind to accept such a woman as a nanny?
With one leg crossed over the other, she bounced her foot while staring at the estate's massive double gate. One wing swung open, indicating an arrival, and she prayed it was Hajiyar Karama.
It was indeed her. Unable to wait for the car to pull up fully, Labiba stood up and hurried after it to the parking lot. Just as the car stopped, she opened the back door where Hajiyar Karama usually sat while the driver drove. She climbed in, her eyes fixed on the older woman, who was deeply engrossed in a phone call.
"No... don't worry, MY BABY. How many months are left anyway? Just calm down and finish your school. I promise you, whenever I come for your siblings' wedding, I will bring you along. I promise you that."
Labiba's heart skipped a beat. Whenever she heard Hajiyar Karama speaking on the phone to this "BABY," a deep sense of dread gripped her. The mere existence of someone with that title posed a major threat to her ears and her future.
"Alright... don't worry about that. Focus on your studies and graduate with top-tier results... Okay, bye, I love you." Hajiyar Karama hung up with a smile that resembled a laugh. Her affection for that person ran deep, and her ambitions tied to them were high. She was just waiting for time to pass, and only death would stand between her and the fulfillment of that dream.
"How are you, Labiba?" Hajiyar Karama asked, turning to her after slipping her phone into her handbag.
Labiba drew a breath and swallowed hard. "Mommy, I came across a woman who looks like a jinn working as a nanny."
"So what?" Hajiyar Karama asked calmly.
"Mommy, didn't you see her beauty and appearance? Aren't you afraid she might seduce Yaa Toufeeq with her looks?"
Hajiyar Karama let out a soft laugh. "Toufeeq... Toufeeq, you say? Don't you know his nature by now? Have you ever seen his eyes linger on a woman with love or desire, let alone fall for one? Where is Toufeeq even?"
Labiba fell silent, rolling Mommy's words over in her mind. True, throughout her life, she could count on one hand the number of times he had even raised his head to look at her—and most of those glances were corrections when she violated his rules. The case felt like a dead end.
"Mommy, is Haseena coming back?" Hajiyar Karama opened the car door and placed one foot outside before answering.
"Not right now." She started to step out, then paused as if deep in thought. She turned back to Labiba and spoke softly.
"Toufeeq is like a needle lost in water; whoever is destined for him gets him. So try to ease your mind about certain things, daughter." With that, she stepped out of the car, leaving Labiba sitting inside.
Labiba sat in silence, sweat trickling down her forehead. Mommy had spoken in a soothing, caring tone, but the words tucked inside her speech... felt strange. Whoever is destined gets him? A needle in water? What did all that mean? She pondered deeply, trying to make sense of it, but drew a blank. Since Mommy said Haseena wasn't returning anytime soon, it blocked off that line of thought. She reluctantly pulled herself out of the car so the driver could lock it, but deep down, she felt she needed to call her own mother and see if she could decipher what she couldn't.
That night, they were on Fadeela's bed after Sāahar made sure she took the medication Afifa prescribed, which Sāahar had gone out to buy herself. She dressed Fadeela in her sleepwear. Fadeela laid her head across Sāahar's lap, her long, silky hair—mirroring Sāahar's own—spread across Sāahar's thighs as she insisted that Sāahar braid it.
Sāahar wasn't great at braiding, so she attempted cornrows, though the strands kept slipping. Her attention was drawn to Fadeela, who was complaining about her "Abby" not calling her. Most of his calls went through Baaba Ramatu, where they finished their conversations.
"Abby is definitely busy, but you must make excuses for her. Stop complaining so much, Fadee. He cares about you, Fadee. You have to appreciate his efforts," Sāahar said gently, trying to comfort her while teaching her the importance of patience and understanding.
Fadeela nodded quietly and said nothing more.
As if waiting for her to quiet down, the tablet began to ring. Fadeela slid off the bed in a flash and ran toward it. She was well-read, so she recognized the caller's name instantly. "Aunty, please open my Google Meet, it's Abby!"
Calmly, Sāahar stepped down from the bed, brought her a headphone set and a foldable stand, helped Fadeela plug in the headphones, and set up the stand with the tablet so she could answer comfortably. Sāahar stepped just out of camera view to let her handle the Google Meet call.
He was seated on a magnificent, beautifully designed balcony divided into two sections—a lounge and a dining area. It was adorned with fine stone tiles, ultra-plush couches paired with a table and four chairs, and a swing bench tucked into one corner. Ambient lighting decorated the space, complemented by potted plants in every nook and corner, filling the air with a fresh breeze and the sweet scent of trailing flowers.
He wore crisp, pure white pajamas. The short-sleeved top featured a V-neck that exposed the smooth, masculine chest hair lying flat against his skin. The short sleeves revealed muscular biceps, down to smooth, strong forearms. His shorts stopped at his knees as he sat cross-legged, waiting for the call from the dearest creation in his world to connect. In his right hand, he sipped coffee slowly. He had returned from the office less than an hour ago, throwing himself into work as a distraction to chase away stress and loneliness.
A faint, reserved smile touched his lips as Fadeela's innocent face appeared in the center of the bed, framed by her messy hair.
"As-salamu alaykum, Abby," her greeting pierced through him, perfectly matched by her sweet voice.
"Wa'alaykumus-salam. Daddy's angel has really grown up! And you greeted so properly, Barakallahu fiik."
"Abby, Aunty Nanny taught me!"
He nodded with a smile. "She told me it brings more reward than saying hello."
"It's true," he replied, shifting his position. He opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could, Fadeela beat him to it. She burst into an excited retelling of all about "Aunty Nanny"—the things she taught her, the rules she enforced, the room cleaning, her studies, and more.
He remained completely silent, fixing his gaze on her moving lips and drinking in her words. He absorbed a wealth of information about this "nanny" she was describing, and slowly, a genuine "Alhamdulillah" slipped from the depths of his heart. As Fadeela recounted their daily routines, a profound sense of peace settled over him regarding the hands his daughter had fallen into this time—something he had constantly worried about. He relaxed fully, giving her his undivided attention, feeling deep down that perhaps Allah had finally looked upon him, wiped away his sorrows, and blessed the apple of his eye with a good nanny.
"Do you want to see her? Should Daddy show her to you?" Fadeela asked enthusiastically...