MATCH BOX AND MATCH BOUS

16

Ramadan, Day eleven.

(Day two—charity organization)

"Salamualaikum famz, we are here at  Crowne plaza and guess what? The handsome prince is cooking!" Yasmin kept life streaming like that's what she was created to do. She walked down to Abubakar who was busy with the food.

Cooking for large number of people can be excruciating than cooking for just ones' self.

"Hey Prince, can you tell us what we should be expecting today?" Yasmin squealed like a hyena as she pointed the camera at Prince Abubakar.

Prince Abubakar frowned at the camera.

"Matchbous!" Matchbous is a traditional food basically prepared by some part of the Arabian country. It is also made out if rice.

"You've heard the prince, and matchbous it is! Stay tuned, bye for now!" Yasmin ended the life streaming,

"You should at least help us, that's not helping. Go get the iftar fruits!" Abubakar ordered Yasmin. Zarah was putting more coal into the coal stove—making sure every thing followed the strict schedule. Not too far from where the cooking counter was arranged, people started murmuring and also making way for someone; Sheik Hamadan was walking towards them—waving at his loyal and affectionate subjects.

"Salaam Abubakar, how is it going, stressful?" Sheik Hamdan asked with an enthusiastic smile.

Abubakar chuckled as he continue cooking. His sleeves were up—folded. "It can't be, with the help of this wonderful cook!" Abubakar pointed at Zarah and Zarah blushed under her niqab.

"Oh? Mrs Rahman, I see, you are a wonderful cook, your mehalbiya was Masha Allah, thank you for honoring me and my wish. Jazakilahhul khairan." Sheik Hamdan said in a very courteous manner.  (Jazakhilahhul khairan is just another way to appreciate someone or show gratitude in all Arabian country — and it's also used for female in male, the usage is different; Jazakhalahhul khairan—changing 'khi' into 'kha')

"I'm a nothing for you to thank Sheik!" Zarah  interjected with a bow.

"Stop being modest Mrs Rahman, I'll make sure your eid is fantastic with what you've done. I heard you've got a daughter." Sheik Hamdan said and Zarah was stunned.

How did Fazza find out?

"Y-yes.. S-Safeenah," Zarah stuttered.

"Don't worry, you guys will love it here!" Sheik Hamdan said with his usual smile which was revealing his dimples. He walked towards the people waiting for him all dressed in black.

The press.

Yasmin wasn't happy with all the praising Zarah got from the Sheik. She was annoyed, why did the Sheik even ignored her—she is Abubakar's wife-to-be after all. She's got a plan to ruin Zarah, she needed to sabotage her. She smiled as she walked towards the truck. Inside the truck were the matchboxes.

When there is no matchbox there won't be fire and without fire Zarah won't cook on time—Yasmin also know Zarah will try to be modest and law abiding; since Fazza made it clear they should use coal for the cooking.

She set all of the matchboxes on fire and she smiled at the wild fire as it crackled.

* * *

A man in his mid twenties had a worried face on, he looked exhausted. He walked down to Prince Abubakar.

"Your Highness, there is a problem, the matchboxes are gone, we just found some ashes near the water board." Daniel said to the prince, pointing at the water board which was surrounded by ashes.

"Can't we just buy some more?" Prince Abubakar asked as he was washing the rice. Not concentrating on him.

"I've contacted a convenient store near by, but it will take an hour to reach them, beside no one use match box anymore!" Daniel sighed.

"You've got a lighter or something flammable?" Abubakar asked, now realizing the mess they're in.

"I don't smoke your Highness !" Daniel bickered. Probably angry at the statement he made.

Zarah barged in the conversation. "Wait prince, I think I have a plan!" She stared at the ingredients on the plastic tables. "We are going to need two granite stone, a tiny wood and some small portion of dry grass or straw," Zarah said courageously.

"Zarah, let just use the gas plant, that don't work, it only work in movies." Abubakar advised.

"Let's honor Fazza's wish," Zarah said like the loyal and law abiding subject she is. Abuakar nodded in affirmation at Daniel, Daniel was gone for five minutes. he came back with a some dry straw—which can actually feed a calf. Two granite stone and a tiny wood.

"Now do the magic, magician!" Abubakar snickered and Daniel burst into untimely laughter; Zarah was annoyed, she was determine to make a fire.

She can do it, right?

Zarah snapped the item and she scrubbed the two granite stones against each other, causing frictional force—a droplet of spark could be seen; it falls on the dry straw and the dry straw caught fire instantly. She gently lay the tiny wood on it and fire started generating. She started performing combustion reaction on the fire.

Seconds later, the fire was wild and the coal was getting red.

"Whoa, I never thought it'll work, you're amazing Zarah!" Abubakar testified with a thumbs up as he brought out a big pressure-cooking pot.

Yasmin was furious.

Her plan to sabotage Zarah failed again. This made Yasmin abhor Zarah even more. She walked away angrily.

"What's wrong with lady Yasmin today? She seems angry." Zarah asked as she was still blowing air in the wild coal.

"I dunno" Abubakar shrugged as he started chopping the veggies on a wooden cutting board. Zarah started preparing the matchbous after mix— by combining all the powdered spices.

"lemme help with that." Abubakar gestured.

"No! you go get the 1.3 kg prawns!" Zarah said and Abuakar walked towards the ingredients truck.

The matchbous took two hours to make and atlas it was ready. It was time for iftar, the males rush to the nearest masjid to observe Salah as soon as the adhan was heard. After the prayers, the prince and Zarah started serving the poor.

"Thank you prince, I'm so happy. May Almighty Allah bless you!" An old woman prayed.

"You didn't even stop feeding, even though you knew I'm not a Muslim" the old woman added.

"Even though if you are Jew, Hindu or anything, I'll still feed you and beside it's charity organization feed the poor not feed the Muslim poor masses!" Prince Abubakar explained with a smile as Zarah handed the woman her portion of matchbous.

Zarah handed her the matchbous. "Here you go ma'am,"

"Thank you young lady; you two suits each other." The woman said in a clueless manner not knowing the effects she left on Zarah. Zarah giggled underneath her niqab,

"Well, we gonna make a great couple!" Abubakar suddenly teased.

Zarah ignored the prince. "That's the last person to serve today!"

"Where is your daughter? I've not been seeing her around." Abubakar asked. "How is your Ramadan going so far?" Abubakar added not waiting for her to respond.

"It's great Alhamdulilah, thanks to Fazza and your company!" Zarah said as she lift her niqab up to gulped down a soda.

Abubakar stared at Zarah, "Don't cover your face yet,"

"What..... The what? "

"Oh.. No. You've got a rice on your lips!" He explained. He leaned in and he placed his middle finger on her lips to remove the stuck rice. As his  long finger touched Zarah's tiny lips, she became vulnerable and numb, she found out something new about the prince today; he actually looks like Ricky De-luna, like in Zarah's dream. She shuddered in pure love as Abubakar's finger was dancing on her lips. Her heart rate began to beat as fast as a Tokyo train.

"Why... Are you sweating," Abubakar said as he removed the rice.

Zarah bit her lower lips to avoid embarrassment and was quiet—she knew the answer to the questions that have been burning in her heart for days now.

Now she can proudly say it's love, and she is in love with the prince of Dubai.

Author's note

Well, this chapter is filled with many climaxes—Yasmin is changing into a psycho little by little.

I'm still confused, is Abubakar in love with Zarah, or he is only a play boy billionaire. But what I am certain of is the fact that Zarah is in love with Abubakar.

Once again, matchbous is a traditional food in Dubai, it is made with rice and prawns. If you want the recipe, comment below ❤

Thanks for your votes, it means a lot to me.