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“Baba, please eat the food, if not, my heart will not be at rest,” Hajiya Saratu said softly as she offered him food from the spoon she had scooped. He turned his face away without saying a word to her.

“Grandpa, please eat something, we are all worried about your condition,” Zaid pleaded.

Before anyone could add another word, they began hearing the sounds of cars entering the estate.

“Maybe they have arrived,” said His Excellency Abdul Razak.

“Are you sure it’s them? I heard earlier that Yaya Deen called Yaya Sharafuddeen. I think it might be him that’s coming,” Pravin said. Everyone fell silent and turned their attention to the door, all eager to see who would enter.

There was a knock at the door. Pravin raised his voice and said, “Come in.”

When the door opened, Prime Minister Hateem was the first to enter, greeting them respectfully. Chief Owais followed right behind him. They were the only ones who came in; Boss Man and Sheikh Imam remained in the main sitting room, seated on the sofas.

As soon as they entered, the room went silent, everyone watching them closely. They themselves noticed that something was wrong. Out of respect, Hateem greeted his relatives one by one. Their faces showed no joy as they replied coldly. Chief Owais also greeted everyone, except Pravin. From the very beginning, he and Pravin never got along, which made Hajiya Saratu dislike Owais even more, for the animosity he displayed towards her husband. Even now, when he greeted her, she barely responded, frowning throughout.

Slowly, Owais sat down near Baba Obie’s food tray. Baba had kept his eyes fixed on their faces ever since they walked in. He would look at the Prime Minister, then at Owais. Even after they greeted him, he gave them no response. This deeply troubled Prime Minister Hateem, for it was a sign that his father was displeased with him.

Quickly, Zayn and Zaid both greeted the Prime Minister in unison. After he replied, they also greeted Chief Owais, who responded coldly. From there, silence fell again. Pravin, the hypocrite, secretly allowed himself a sly smile, feeling victorious.

Baba Obie fixed his eyes on Owais’s face, and Owais also stared back at him.

“Hateem, why didn’t you come home to see me this morning?” Baba Obie asked.

Struggling to speak, Hateem replied, “You were on my mind, Baba. I know I was wrong not to come. Please forgive me.”

“You haven’t told me what kept you from coming—that is what I want to know.”

Seeing the stern look Hajiya Saratu gave them, Zayn and Zaid quickly stood up and slipped out of the room.

Calmly, Prime Minister Hateem began explaining what had happened.

“So, who did you come to this country for?” Baba asked.

After a pause, Hateem answered, “For you, my father.”

“How can I believe that, Hateem? The very one who harmed me last night—you chose to help him this morning. You were busy serving him while I lay here sick.”

Prime Minister’s heart sank. Shame washed over him, and his spirit broke.

“Baba, I didn’t know you were unwell. Forgive me if I hurt you. But you know my nature, and you yourself always encouraged me to help others. Since childhood you taught us, when we see someone in need, we should help them with whatever we have. Those children are not to blame for their condition—it is fate. They are orphans with no one to care for them. They need people who will support them...”

Before he could finish, Pravin rudely interrupted:

“Yaya, you’re the one who doesn’t understand! That boy was sent by our enemies to destroy our lineage. Otherwise, how could a human turn into a snake? And of all the houses in this estate, why did he appear only near Owais’s house?”

Before he could continue, Chief Owais shot him a furious glare, and Pravin immediately choked on his words.

Angrily, Owais barked, “Get out of this room! What business do you have interfering in family matters? How dare you cut off the Prime Minister while he’s speaking? This concerns us, not you!”

Everyone was shocked by Owais’s bold words, especially Hajiya Saratu, who felt humiliated by the insult he threw at her husband.

Without shame, Pravin sneered, “Owais, you’re still just a child. Nothing you say can anger me. I excuse your words. Everything I said was only to protect your family, because of the favors you’ve done for me...”

Furious, Owais rolled up his sleeves, advancing on Pravin like a raging lion. No one could stop him. Before he reached, Pravin quickly bolted for the door, slammed it shut behind him, and left.

Owais returned to his seat.

Prime Minister Hateem spoke up: “My son, you did the right thing.”

Those words pierced Hajiya Saratu’s heart. Angrily, she snapped, “Yaya Hateem, you’re supporting him even after he insulted my husband?”

The Prime Minister remained silent, not even lifting his eyes to meet hers. This only fueled her anger further, and she kept shooting hateful glares at Owais, who didn’t even notice her.

Baba Obie sat quietly, surrendering the matter to Allah, for the quarrel was beyond his control.

His Excellency Abdul Razak then asked:

“Owais, we are listening. We want more details about the boy who transformed and the girl that was with him.”

It took nearly a full minute before Owais finally replied:

“I took in eleven orphans. They all live in my house under my care.”

“Where did you find them?” Abdul Razak asked again. Owais remained silent until the question was repeated.

“American soldiers found them in the forest. They handed the case to our authorities because the children claimed they were Nigerians. We even found the father of one of them. We suspect kidnappers took them from their families. As for that boy, spirits possessed him in the forest, changing his form. That is all I know about them.”

Senator Lateef cleared his throat before speaking:

“We’ve already made a decision. The children cannot remain in our estate—for the sake of our father’s health. And from now on, you are cut off from them. The Prime Minister must also return to Canada on the date given to him. We will not allow your reckless charity to endanger our family. I never trusted those children from the start. How can children suddenly be found in a forest, then brought here? Why didn’t the American soldiers keep them if they were genuine? They knew there was danger—that’s why they dumped them on you.”

Prime Minister Hateem’s heart was torn hearing this. He had always obeyed his elder brothers, never crossing their line. The only person who could overrule them was their father, but even he seemed to side with them.

Softly, he pleaded, “Please don’t do this to me. I came all this way for you. It’s been nearly a year since I last came home. If I return now, I don’t know when I’ll ever be back. Baba, please intervene.”

His Excellency Deen, who had been quiet, now spoke:

“If you came for us, don’t worry. Just go back, and we will visit you wherever you are. If necessary, we can travel to Canada every week—we have no problem with transportation. We can even take leave from our work just for you. But we cannot allow you to stay here, because we will not risk your life. Don’t forget who you are: the Prime Minister of Canada.”

Hateem lowered his head, tears filling his eyes. He wasn’t grieving over himself, but over the boy he loved so dearly. He knew once he left this country, it would be almost impossible to see him again. Perhaps one of them might even die without ever meeting again.

Chief Owais’s heart sank with sorrow, his mind heavy with concern for the Prime Minister.

Abdul Razak sighed and added:

“Owais, we won’t stop you from your work. But the children cannot stay in this house. Take them to the orphanage and hand them over to caretakers there.”

Frustration silenced Owais, and unease filled the room.

Baba Obie, however, kept studying the faces of Hateem and Owais. He seemed to understand them, but fear of what might come from their charity kept him from stopping Senator Lateef’s decree.

“Baba, please say something! I know you understand me. Wallahi, I love that boy. Can’t you see? He looks like me and Nazli—everything about us is alike, as if I fathered him myself!” Hateem’s voice cracked, nearly breaking into tears. Never had they seen the Prime Minister so weak, until now, when Allah tested him with love for a stranger.

“Hateem! This has nothing to do with us. Everyone has look-alikes in this world. And as for evil men, they don’t reveal themselves in their true form. They disguise themselves, live among those they seek to destroy, pretending to be kind—until one day they shatter them with treachery. That is why I cannot trust that boy or the others. Strangers found in the forest—who knows if they are the children of jinn that you’ve brought us?” Senator Lateef said, gesturing dismissively.

Slowly, Prime Minister Hateem reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, which he had left at home in the morning to avoid endless calls. He had only retrieved it when they entered the house earlier. Dialing Sharafuddeen’s number, he waited three rings before it was answered.

“I’m at home. Please come quickly, otherwise anything could happen,” Hateem said.

On the other end, Sharafuddeen’s voice replied, “Alright, I’m on my way. Take care of yourself until I arrive.” Hateem ended the call.

“What’s the point of calling Sharafuddeen? You and he are both under our authority—we are above you,” Senator Lateef said arrogantly.