He stopped and stared at his large white eyes, which were further illuminated by the black coals he had rubbed on his face. In a soft voice, Abbasi said, "Where are you going, Mahomet?" He did not answer him, but looked back and saw Ammi holding the scissors in her hand, full of fear. He stepped back behind Abbasi, placing his dirty hands on Abbasi's white shaddar.

"Ammi, since he didn't want to leave him alone," said Abbasi. Ammi said, "don't you see that the pain is too much, like a madman, let me ease it for him." From there, Hajiya Atine burst out laughing and said, "Who else is there if not the MADMAN?" Abbasi looked up and looked at his mother, who was shaking her head before turning and grabbing Mahomet's hand.

Ammi followed her until they reached the house where her room was. They entered the living room. Mahomet pulled over and stood at the door, looking at the scissors in Ammi's hand again. Seeing this, she placed them on the table and ran. Mahomet headed for his room and entered while Abbasi followed behind him.

He saw him sitting in the middle of the bed, pulling the blanket over his entire body, leaving his face open as he stared at the entrance. It was Abbasi who made him pull over and stare at him. He sighed and said, "Let's go wash off that thing you put on your face, it's not good." He shrugged and shook his head, indicating that he didn't want to.

Abbasi said, "I won't wash you, let's go to the face, I'll just wash you, you didn't do anything wrong." Agreeing with his brother's words, he headed for the toilet. Abbasi washed his face with a sponge and soap, revealing his true face, which was long and slender, with a long nose and a bow. Abbasi showed him the mirror in the toilet, he looked at himself and let out a sigh. His dimples were drawn, his thin red lips opened and his white teeth were revealed.

With great deliberation, Abbasi parted with his belongings, while Mahomet was busy looking at himself, for there was nothing in the world he loved more than a mirror.

He pulled the pump and began to bathe him, splashing water on him like a child. Mahomet burst into laughter as he felt the cool water seep into his skin.

Abbasi applied the shampoo to his head and it started to lather up, and there was nothing Mahomet hated more than having his hair touched. Like a little child, he started to cry and tried to tease Abbasi while I tried to wash the foam off him.

Even after the bath, Mahomet was already angry with Abbasi, who was almost always like this as soon as he bathed him. He brought oil to rub on him, but he refused to let him, and even the bed he had brought was torn apart.

Seeing this made Abbasi smile and come out. In the living room, he found Ammi, who was shocked to see him. She stood up and said, "All her hair is gone, did you wash her?" Abbasi said, “It doesn't matter Ammi, if I take her to the washroom, she will come back clean. I washed her but she refused to let me, even I applied oil to her.”

Ammi wiped her tears and said, "May Allah reward you with the best of blessings, Abbasi, for taking care of your brother. May Allah give you compassionate children." He murmured, "Amen, Ammi, thank you. I will go and change my clothes. Let him get his medicine." "Yes," Ammi replied.

She brought a bottle of water from the fridge and went to his room. He was lying there, covered in a blanket like a new bride. He heard my voice and pulled off the blanket and sat in the middle of the bed, leaving only the shorts that Abbasi had put on him before trying to apply oil.

The medicine bottle on the bedside table opened and the medicine was poured out. He couldn't take it and opened his mouth, so he gulped and took a sip of the water and swallowed it.