Episode
Six
As I hurried to the
living room to know what was transpiring, I hit my right feet on the lower end
of the rusty door. Streaks of blood dripped from the second finger as I walked
in increased pace, withholding the pain and uncertainty that gripped me.
As I walked into the
living room, I caught sight of Khalid sitting on the sofa with lowered eyes.
Mom and Dad wore a solemn expression and it looked like Mom would cry any
moment. Rasheedah sat on the floor as she cried loudly.
“What happened?” I
asked in concern and confusion.
Dad whipped his head up
and stared at me with sad eyes. “Khalid is postponing the wedding.”
I gasped in shock as I
walked towards where he was sitting. “Why? Why would you…why now?” I prattled
in shock and dismay.
“Look, I can’t explain
this now, but it’s all for the good. Know that I love Rasheedah and I’m not
calling off the wedding. We just have to move the date for urgent reasons.”
“Like what?” I asked in
shock.
“I cannot explain this
now. It’s just…it’s a matter of life and death,” Khalid said as we all squealed
in shock.
“I have to go,” he
muttered as he rose to his feet and stormed out of the house.
“Khalid has disgraced
me,” Rasheedah bawled her eyes out.
“He talked about life
and death. Who could be in danger? Are we safe?” Dad wondered as I took a seat
to save my wobbly legs from pulling me down.
“I believe it’s for a
reason. But I’m scared. Life and death?” I said in confusion.
“He said he loved me…”
“He does love you. I
believe he’s protecting us for a reason. You should talk to him later and try
and find out some truths,” I said to Rasheedah.
“You’re right, Rafiah.
There is a reason to this,” Dad agreed.
“Reason wo? What
will happen to the arrangements that have been made? Do you know how much we’ve
spent?” Mom yelled in annoyance. “I’ll call his parents and ask them the
meaning of all these. Do you know the sweat and effort I’ve put into the
marriage?” Mom cried.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I
understand. I trust Khalid has a good reason for this. The wedding will hold in
sha ALlaah,” I said as I hugged my mother.
Hours later, Rasheedah
and I sat at the balcony, staring at the stars up in the sky. Dad had managed to
convince Mom to get a sleep and for the first time in hours, the house fell
silent.
The cool breeze tickled
my skin as I remembered how bubbly the house had been before Khalid visited and
broke the news. Wedding preparations rented the air. Food here and cakes there.
Discussions about aso
ebi ...and so much more. Now, everywhere had turned gloomy and we were
uncertain if the wedding will hold.
“There is no right man,
Rafiah. Only manageable ones,” Rasheedah muttered as tears glistened her face.
I patted her hand. “I
believe Khalid made this decision for a cogent reason. You should give him
time, then hear him out,” I advised.
Rasheedah shook her
head. “What if it is just an excuse to end this? What if this wedding will
never hold?” she said as her phone chimed on the table.
Rasheedah stared at her
phone for minutes before passing it on to me. “Look at what he sent,” she said
as she gave me her phone.
Rasheedah, you’re the
love of my life. I cannot think of spending my life with anyone else asides you.
I am also ready to walk you down the aisle. To start a future with you and
watch as we raise beautiful children. Masha ALlaah.
I am not ending this
marriage. I cannot bring myself to do that…I’ll not be the same if I make such a
terrible decision. As I sat in your living room, watching as you all gazed at
me with disappointed eyes, I wished that I had brought better news. I hate to
see your parents looking sad and angry…I hate to bring sadness upon your
family.
You see, life is so
unpredictable. This minute, you’re excited you can’t think of any worries. You
believe you have everything you could ever want. The next, you’re sad and
confused. You don’t know how you would get of every trouble in your life.
You’re confused as hell. And you make decisions; some costly ones to save your
loved ones.
Rasheedah, you’re the
love of my life and I cannot bear to watch anything bad happen to you. I prefer
to postpone this wedding than watch you get into danger. Believe me, this was
for our good. And I’m sure that years later, we would tell our children about
this with loud laughter. This will be part of our story.
Please, forgive me for
breaking your heart. I didn’t mean to. I’m only trying to protect you. I
promise you, our glamorous wedding- that will surely be the talk of town- will
be held soon. And we will become husband and wife. And we will spend the rest
of our lives together.
-
Khalid.
“Wow!” I exclaimed in
tears as I handed the phone over to Rasheedah. “I hope you now believe that he
had a reason for making this decision and he loves you like always. I’m scared
though. Are you safe? Are we safe?”
“I’d give him a call,”
Rasheedah said. “Thank you,” she smiled at me before leaving.
As I recalled all I’d
read and gushed over my sister’s love story, my phone beeped. I shrieked in
surprise as I unlocked the phone and checked the message. My heart beat faster
as I read the name of the person that had sent the message.
Munir! It was from
Munir! My future husband! The next Khalid!
I beamed in excitement as I clicked on WhatsApp.
Asalamu ‘alaykum,
Rafiah. How are you doing?
-
Munir.
I grinned as I started
to type.
Wa’alaykumu salam.
AlhamduliLlaah, I’m fine. You?
-
Rafiah.
Splendid! My stomach is full and round. Just had dinner
with my brother and he left a few minutes ago…
-
Munir.
Oh, nice!
-
Rafiah.
…which brings me to
the question. Did you send a mail to my brother?
-
Munir.
Yes, I did. But he
hasn’t responded.
-
Rafiah.
I told him about you
some minutes ago and he promised to skim through his unread messages…which I
doubt he’d do. Can you, please send a follow-up, so, he’ll see that and
respond?
-
Munir.
No problem. I’ll do
that. Thanks!
-
Rafiah.
How is Asmau’s health?
Hope she’s getting better?
-
Munir.
Yes, she’ll be at work
next tomorrow, in sha ALlaah.
-
Rafiah.
Next tomorrow?
-
Munir.
LOL. Tomorrow’s workers’
day. So…no work!
-
Rafiah.
Gosh! Totally
forgotten. Thanks for the information. So…how would you be spending workers’
day?
-
Munir.
I’ll pay Asmau a visit,
read some books and have quality sleep. What about you?
-
Rafiah.
Nice choice! Well, I’ll
keep myself busy with activities. Need to study hard for an exam I’d write next
month.
-
Munir.
BarakaLlaahu fee. May
ALlaah make it a success.
-
Rafiah.
Aameen. So, I wanted to
tell you about a restaurant I found out before leaving for work today. A
certified jollof rice lover like you would love this place.
-
Munir.
Lol. Their jollof rice
is that delicious?
-
Rafiah.
More than delicious. I
could take you there next tomorrow…if you want.
-
Munir.
It would be an honour.
Thanks for everything, Munir.
-
Rafiah.
Ha-ha. What I have
done? Anyway, I need to sleep now. My eyes are dancing right now. Bye, Rafiah.
-
Munir.
Bye, Munir.
-
Rafiah.
I clicked the ‘send’
button and dropped my phone, smiling sheepishly. Yes, I’d be going on a date
with Munir!
Episode
Seven
Asmau laughed loudly as
I related what had happened a day before- how Munir and I had eaten lunch
together and talked about anything and everything. She rubbed her belly and
made the ‘aww’ sound when I also
revealed that we chatted overnight.
It was workers’ day and
I had decided to spend a major part of the day with Asmau. Her husband- who
worked in shifts at his place of work- had to leave for work this morning. So,
this was me and Asmau all alone in her cream-coloured apartment, eating boiled
yam and fried eggs, and catching up with the latest gist.
“Ah, it has happened oo!
What colour we will use as aso ebi? When are we holding the
long-anticipated wedding? This year or next year?”
I gave a staccato of laughter
as I stared at Asmau, still dressed in her nighties and looking puffy. “This
guy hasn’t asked me out. I’m not sure he would…”
“But there are clear
signs. If you can’t see them, I can see them,” she chuckled. “I’ll start
ironing my gele for the glamorous wedding. And imagine, he is from a
wealthy home. That makes you even with your sister.”
“I’m not competing with
my sister,” I frowned at her. “By the way, the wedding has been postponed.
Khalid said it’s a matter of life and death,” I said as Asmau dropped her cup
in shock.
“Matter of life and
death? What happened?”
“I don’t know and
Khalid will not explain in detail. My parents are livid right now. Dad hardly
says a word. It looks like he is deep in thought. I think he is more bothered
about the ‘life and death’ part. I mean, who wouldn’t be? I’m also curious and
scared. Mom keeps lamenting and complaining over what Khalid said. She is also
furious his parents haven’t come over to explain exactly what went wrong.
According to Rasheedah, they are currently not in Nigeria.”
Asmau gasped in
surprise. “Wow. I’m so sorry. May ALlaah protect all of you and make the
marriage a success,” she picked up her cup and filled it with water. “I hope
this is not politics-related. You know his dad is a politician?”
I played with the tip
of my veil as I adjusted the pillow on the sofa. “Who knows? I also thought
about that. We all know politics in Nigeria is a dirty game.”
“How is Rasheedah
faring? I hope she’s fine?”
“She’s faring well.
Khalid sent a lengthy and heart-warming message to her last night. I’m sure she
has fallen in love with him over again with that message,” I was saying when my
phone started to ring.
I shrieked in surprise
and alarm as I checked the caller ID. My eyes widened in shock when I realized
that it was from Munir. I could catch sight of Asmau peering at me as I took
hold of my phone.
“Who’s that?”
I smiled shyly. “Munir.
Excuse me,” I said as beads of sweat formed around my forehead. My legs felt
wobbly as I hurried to the balcony to pick his call.
“Asalamu ‘alaykum,
Rafiah!” Munir greeted excitedly.
My stomach flipped in
excitement as his sound of his voice rang over my head. I loved the way he
pronounced my name with emphasis on the ‘ain. Totally loved it!
“Wa’alaykumu salam.
How are you?”
“Lazy as heck. Remember
I told you I’d spend today reading? Well, I’ve been in bed all day, scrolling
through my social media feed. I’ve practically spent two hours on Instagram.
Gosh! That space is crazy. You’d visit a profile and end up clicking on the
profile of an account and another account tagged by the person they’ve
tagged…and they cycle continues!” he laughed and I did so in return.
“I can relate to that.
I try to avoid that space as much as possible. So yeah, try getting up from bed
and drop that distraction called phone.”
“Thanks, Rafiah. I’ll
do just that. Have you sent the mail to my brother?”
I gnashed my teeth as I
recalled our last night’s conversation. SubhanaLlaah! I’d totally
forgotten. “I totally forgot. I’m so sorry!” I’d spent the night and this
morning, reminiscing over Munir and picturing our lives together.
“You shouldn’t be
sorry. It’s not about me. It’s about you, Rafiah. Have you discussed with your
dad?”
“My home is currently
tensed. Some unexpected events happened. So, I don’t think this is the ideal
time to tell him about it.”
“Hope everyone’s fine?”
“Yes, we are. AlhamduliLlaah,”
I said, recalling Khalid’s statement and wishing one of us had a flick of an
idea about what was happening.
“I cannot explain this now. It’s just…it’s a matter of life and death,”
Khalid had said.
I couldn’t tell Munir
what was really happening at home. At least, not now.
“I’m glad to hear that.
Erm…are you already at Asmau’s place?”
I laughed. “Yes. We’ve
been eating and talking nonstop.” I said, leaving out the part that we’d mostly
talked about him and our imaginary wedding.
“I guessed as much. My
regards to her. Let me get out of bed and get something doing…and please, send
that mail.”
“Thanks. Bye,” I said
as I ended the call and walked over to where we were once sitting.
Asmau had left for the
kitchen. She winked at me as she returned with a glass of cold juice. “You’ve
been eating and drinking everything. You’ll get fatter, Asmau!” I yelled at her
as I settled on the couch.
“Leave me alone, jare.
Me and my baby are eating,” she shrugged as she sat on the floor. “What were
you two lovebirds discussing?”
“Mostly about my
career. He wants me to send a mail to his brother. His brother is a successful
author. Faruk Zubair,” I said as Asmau widened her eyes in shock.
“The cute and popular
author? Ah, Rafiah. You’re one lucky person. You get to get married to the
brother of Faruk Zubair!”
I rolled my eyes. “Can
you stop with all these marriage talks? Nothing has been official okay?” I
frowned at her and she gave a pretense nod. “Good. So, as I was saying, he
wants me to follow my passion. So, he wants me to talk at length with my dad.
But…I don’t think this is the right moment to do so.”
“Talking to your dad
about pursuing a career in writing can actually distract him from the whole
matter-of-life-and-death saga. Or…what do you think?”
“I think it would
worsen it. Imagine telling my dad, now, that I want to do away with my
accounting degree and become a professional writer. Believe me, he will flare
up.”
“Okay, that’s true,”
Asmau said as she suddenly grew quiet. She stood up and started to pace around
the room. “Jamal wants me to stop working for Fulaan. He told me to tender my
resignation letter next week,” she said with wet eyes.
“Wow! He has always
wanted you to stop working. What will you do now?”
“I’m still trying to
convince him…even though I’m certain he would not accept. Now that I’m
pregnant, he has made a solid decision that I stop working.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“It’s fine. I’ll be
back shortly,” she picked her hijab from the chair. “I need to get sardine from
downstairs.”
I laughed unbelievably.
“What for?”
“Bread and sardine.”
“You still want to eat?
How will…” I was saying when Asmau sprinted out of the door.
I sighed deeply as I
clicked on Gmail and started composing a message to send to Faruk Zubair.
CAN YOU BE MY MENTOR?
Hello Mr. Zubair,
Trust this meets you
well.
I’m Rafiah Hassan, an
acquaintance of your brother, Munir. We were chatting on a sunny afternoon when
he revealed that you are his brother. Well, it came as a great surprise and I’d
never felt that excited in a while.
I am currently working
as an accountant in an auditing firm. I, however, do not like my job. Right
from when I was young, I’d always wanted to become a writer. I would dream of
publishing great works and winning awards. I would imagine becoming a prolific
author, just like you.
I do not want to work
as an accountant. It brings no satisfaction at all. I want to pursue a career
in writing and I need you as my guide and mentor. I want you to pull me through
the ways to becoming a successful author. I need you to teach me how to start,
what to do, and how long it will take to become one.
I anticipate a response
from you. Thank you so much.
Best regards,
Rafiah Hassan.
***
When I returned home
before sunset, I realized that the tension that crept up the room since
yesterday had reduced. The sound coming from the TV filled the room and Mom was
talking about her proposed lace business with a friend over the phone. Dad was
reading the latest news on his tablet and Rasheedah had gone out to visit a
friend.
I grinned widely as I
greeted them and walked to my room, wondering if this would be the right time
to reveal the news to Dad. Munir had sent over five writing-related job opening
links to my WhatsApp and this had motivated me to start working as a
professional writer.
As I reached for the
door knob, I heard Dad call my name. “How is Asmau?”
“She’s fine. She sent
her regards.”
“I want to see you.
Let’s go inside,” he said as I entered the room and dropped my bag on the bed.
I placed the second bag
containing cold Fanta and meat pie on the table and took a seat beside Dad on
the bed.
“It’s about what Khalid
said. I don’t want to act worried because of your mom and Rasheedah…but there’s
all need to be worried, Rafiah. For Khalid to be unable to explain how
dangerous it would be to hold the wedding at the specified date, I’m bothered
our lives are all at risk.”
I pulled my hijab and
stared at the ceiling. A cobweb had formed at the right corner. I would take a
broom and dust it off immediately Dad leaves the room.
“I’m also scared. I’m
wondering it might have to do with politics. The question is, what happens when
a new wedding date is fixed? How can we go about that day knowing that our
lives could be at risk? What if we’re also not safe even at home? What is
really happening?” I prattled as I remembered the look of fright that had
clouded Khalid’s eyes on the day he visited.
“These are some of the
questions bogging my mind, Rafiah. I think we should demand his parents visit
immediately,” he was saying when I interrupted.
“But they are currently
not in Nigeria.”
“Does that matter more
than our lives? We deserve a tangible explanation other than ‘It’s a matter of life and death.’ If
they can’t, we might have to call off the wedding. We are not puppets who would
just do anything even when our lives are on the line,” Dad said with creased
forehead.
As he shared his concern
with me, I suddenly realized how much I was adored by my Dad. Not just because
I was the first daughter, but because I had decided to follow his instruction
and become an accountant like him. He believed we had so much in common and I
was someone we could confide in. Suddenly, I felt guilty for thinking of going
against his wish. I also felt scared to express my dissatisfaction in being an
accountant.
“I agree with you,
dad.”
“Thank you, Rafiah.
I’ll go give them a call,” Dad said as he stood up and started to leave.
I cleared my throat as
fear gripped. “Erm…there’s something I want to discuss with you,” I said as he
stopped on his tracks and swivelled towards me. “What is it about?”
“It is about my
career.”
“What about your
career?” he narrowed his eyes at me.
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Love your writing!!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much!
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