Episode Twelve

The living room wafted of fried beef and onion. Greetings and talks rented the air as we welcomed our long-awaited guests- Khalid’s parents.



Khalid’s parents sat on the green sofa while Khalid, dressed in a red t-shirt and black pair of chinos, occupied the wooden chair opposite Rasheedah. They exchanged glances and communicated with signs while both parents discussed.



Khalid’s father was dressed in a white-laced kaftan and red cap. He was a tall and rotund man with dark skin. Khalid’s mother wore a sparkling blue-coloured iro and buba and gold scarf. She had fair skin, the colour of papaya. Her lips were thin, and it looked almost inexistent, save for when she smiled. Khalid’s skin colour was a blend of the two; chocolate. With the way they were dressed, it looked like they were returning from a ceremony…but they weren’t.



The trays placed in front of them contained samosas, mint sweets, and fried beef. As I dropped two bottles of water on the table and was returning to the kitchen, I overheard them talking about how they enjoyed their short trip to England.



I returned to the living room and added an extra tray of fried beef on the table in front of them as I cleaned my sweaty palm with the tip of my veil.



They muttered thank you, and I smiled in return. I was heading to the room when Dad called my name. “Rafiah, you should be here. You’re the eldest child and should partake in decision making,” he stated, and I grinned and took a seat beside the TV.



I glanced at Rasheedah and noticed that she and Khalid were communicating through texts. I couldn’t help but stare at them with a look of jealousy. I might not admire the setbacks of their relationships, but they were definitely in love with each other.



I imagined Munir taking the place of Khalid, but I winced instead. I hadn’t been able to imagine myself and Munir as a couple.



Khalid’s father’s croaky face drifted me back to reality. He was talking about the main suspect being a strong opponent who was contending with him for the senatorial position. Therefore, he believed the person must have a hand in the threat.

Continue reading https://www.maryamnittywall.com/2021/07/life-and-everything-in-between-episode.html

Finally there’s update after a very long time

aprilwise:
Finally there’s update after a very long time

Yeah, I had issues with uploading new episodes on Nairaland. Thanks for reading!

Episode Thirteen

I scrolled through my Instagram feed as I sat in the cab that was heading to Farouk’s office. I needed to distract myself by focusing on other things; like the bowl of garnished fried rice recently updated by a food blogger and a picture of Hassanah, my former colleague, and her three-month-old baby girl.

Anything to distract me from focusing on the reality- the fact that I would be meeting Farouk for the first time. I had first learnt about Farouk Zubair from a TedTalk he gave three years ago. He spoke about the significance of writing in our everyday lives. I had read through his Wikipedia profile and downloaded a couple of his books. I had no flick of an idea that I would, one day, have a personal interaction with him.

Farouk Zubair! Gosh! The thought of him made beads of sweat appear on my forehead. I plugged in my earpiece and spent the rest of the journey to his office, listening to his TedTalk for the hundredth time.
***
I arrived at Freelance Avenue about twenty minutes later, dressed in a brown-coloured t-shirt and black maxi skirt. My stiletto heels made a clicking noise as I walked into the medium-sized building.

As I arrived at the reception, I was shocked to see the office filled to the brim, despite today being a Saturday.

The receptionist, a petite lady with a bright smile (uncommon amongst Nigerian receptionist) looked up at me. “Good day. How may I help you, ma?”

I fiddled with the hand of my bag and tried to stay confident. “I have an appointment with Farouk Zubair by 02:00 pm.”

The receptionist smiled at me and tapped on her computer. “Please, give him a minute. He’ll join you soon,” she said as she gestured to the row of empty seats. “You can have a seat.”

“Thank you,” I replied as I settled on a chair and surveyed the office.

Farouk Zubair owned a digital marketing agency that offer clients copywriting, social media marketing, and content marketing services. The room was painted yellow and had this unconventional look that was common with tech companies.

The walls were designed with creative quotes and pictures of books and pens. I took several pictures of the reception with my phone before returning to an e-book I had started two weeks ago.

Farouk Zubair didn’t appear until ten minutes later. What had made me realise that he was standing in front of me was the scent of a grape-flavoued perfume. I whipped my head up and almost screamed in shock when I caught Farouk smiling at me.

“Asalamu ‘alaykum, Rafiah. I am so sorry for keeping you waiting,” he said with a grin.

Farouk Zubair was more handsome that I could have ever imagined. He had this smooth and glossy caramel skin that was looked like an eggshell. His eyes were glistening like light and his well-arranged set of teeth? Describing Farouk Zubair would take more than a day.

I tried to maintain composure and reply his greeting but what came out were breath of air. “Wa’alay…I mean…fine…” I prattled.

Farouk chuckled as if seeing people drool over his presence was a norm. “Please, come with me,” he said as he started to walk.

I tailed him as I glanced around the large hall, filled with cubicles. Farouk’s office was set up, such that, everyone worked in the same room. He didn’t even have a personal space of his own. Farouk halted at one of the cubicles composed of large books and award plaques.

“Please, have a seat,” he said as he took a seat beside an empty chair. “I am sorry once again. A client has complained about an article we delivered yesterday. So, my team of writers had to start all over because we didn’t meet his expectations. That’s one of the things we have to deal with,” he chuckled. “Do you care for a cup of coffee…or tea?”

I smiled shyly. “I’m fine, thank you.”

Farouk gave a throaty laugh. “You must take one of them. We’re still going to have lunch together, Rafiah. It’s a must!”

“Okay. Tea then,” I said with a smile.

“Great! Give me two minutes,” he stated as he strode off.

He appeared almost immediately with a mug of hot tea. “I also need to apologise for those crazy emails you received. My younger brother is a disaster,” he laughed. “I know I shouldn’t be laughing over this but I really wished you didn’t receive them. I mean, first impression matters. I am lucky it wasn’t one of my clients he sent those emails.”

“It is very fine,” I sipped from my drink and cleared my throat. “It is an honour to be in the presence of no one but Farouk Zubair! You’re a renowned and talented writer! Thank you for taking the time to see me.”

Farouk shrugged. “It is no big deal. I started just like you, eager to make something out of my talent. That was why I enrolled for a Master’s programme in creative writing. When I started the programme, I fell in love with writing all over again. I knew at that instant that I couldn’t do anything else.”

Farouk was dressed in an orange-coloured t-shirt and black pair of chinos. I had no idea orange could be that beautiful until I saw it on Farouk.

“Is writing that profitable? Can I make a living by just writing?”

“Of course, you can. That is exactly what I do. I publish novels and manage a digital marketing agency. The world is now digital, Rafiah. Companies are always looking for content for their websites. They need to grow their brand on the digital space, and that’s where we come in. It is paying off, in addition to the revenue I generate from the sales of my books.” Farouk paused and gulped down water from a flask resting in front of him. “What steps have you taken to grow your writing career?”

I furrowed my brows and lowered my eyes. “I haven’t taken any step.”

“I can give you pieces of advice, but it is up to you to take the step. You have to decide if you really want to pursue a career in writing and the niche you want to focus on. Enough of this career talk, let’s go for lunch. While eating, we can talk about our favourite writers and the works we enjoy best. What would you have? And don’t tell me you are fasting.” He faked a frown and laughed immediately.

“I’ll have anything. Are we…set?”

“Of course!” Farouk said as he rose from the chair. “I would really love to hang out with you again, Rafiah. How can we make that possible?”

My heart beat faster as I stared at Farouk. Hang out with me again? “Err.I have a wedding to attend tomorrow. My ex!” I laughed and he joined.

As we walked out of the building, I took more pictures of the interior.

“Add pepper to the cooler of rice. That’s the perfect revenge,” he laughed loudly and turned to me. My stomach churned in anxiety as he looked up at me. His face looked more charming in the bright sun…I had never set eyes on anyone more charming.

“You know I was joking,” he smiled. “So, can I accompany you to this wedding? I haven’t attended a wedding in years!”

“Well, I am going with Munir,” I said with a frown.

“It’s okay. I’ll do other things. Watch a movie. Read a book…”

“Or we can go together!” I interrupted. “Munir opted to come with me out of pity. You know, attending the wedding of an ex alone.”

Farouk’s face broke into a grin. “Great! I’ll iron one of my ankaras. That’s if it hasn’t been covered with cobwebs,” he laughed loudly.
***
I arrived home about two hours later, dancing in excitement and staring at the mirror over and over again. My cheeks hurt from smiling but I couldn’t help it. I had just had lunch with Farouk Zubair…and would be attending Tolu’s wedding with him. By my side! As my plus one!

Farouk was so charming that I wished I could spend the rest of the day with him. When was the last time my heart jammered in my chest at the sight of a man talking?

I was still drooling over my moment with Farouk when my phone chimed in my bag. It was Munir calling.

“Hey, Munir! Asalamu ‘alaykum warahmatuLlaahi wabarakahtuhu,” I greeted in excitement.

“Wa’alaykumu salam warahmatuLlaahi wabarakahtuhu, Rafiah. Wow. You sound so excited. I guess the meeting went well?”

“Yes, it went very well. And thank you for your offer, but I would be attending Tolu’s wedding with Farouk. I know you decided to accompany me out of pity.”

“You are going to Tolu’s wedding with Farouk?” Munir asked in surprise and I noted a twinge of jealousy in his voice.

“Yes…but if you…”

“No, it’s fine,” he cut in. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy your time with Farouk since you’re both writers. I’ll see you on Monday then. I’ve got to go. I need to pick up an item from the airport,” he said and hung up the call.

I was still trying to interpret Munir’s sudden change of tone when Rasheedah entered the room, throwing a big bag at me. “That is your dress, Rafiah. Check it out!” she said with a grin.

I stared at her with confused eyes. “Which dress?”

“The dress you’ll be wearing on my wedding day. Oya, put in on. Let’s see how it looks!” Rasheedah said excitedly as she dragged my hands.

“Okay!” I opened the bag and changed into the blue-coloured sparkling gown. Rasheedah and I gasped in shock as we stared at my reflection in the standing mirror. The dress was really glamorous.

“It is so beautiful, Rafiah,” she muttered.

I stared at my beautiful self and imagined walking down the aisle in a lovely gown. Not with Munir this time. I imagined walking down the aisle with Farouk.

Welcome back. Two brothers in love with one girl

aprilwise:
Welcome back. Two brothers in love with one girl

LOL. Thank you!

This is getting intense. Space booked!

Life and Everything in Between
Episode Fourteen

Rasheedah grinned at me with sleepy eyes as I adjusted my red gown- the dress I had ordered from Jumia specifically for Tolu’s wedding.

“You look amazing, Rafiah!” Rasheedah said as she stared at the red gown over and over again.

It was a sparkling gown with flowery patterns at the tip. I smiled in appreciation as I grabbed my black bag from the wardrobe.

“You don’t have to attend Tolu’s wedding. It will be perfectly fine if you just sit at home and read a book…or watch a movie,” Rasheedah stated as she looked at me with pitiful eyes.

“I am okay attending this wedding, believe me,” I said as I settled on the bed and wore my leather wristwatch. “No one will look at me with pity. My plus-one will be someone hot and famous,” I chuckled, and Rasheedah widened her eyes in surprise.

She jumped up from the bed and hurried to stand in front of me. “Who is that? Gosh! I knew you’ve been up to a lot of things, Rafiah. Those calls and chats you’ve been so preoccupied with,” she laughed. “Tell me. Who is it?”

“Farouk Zubair. The same popular writer,” I tried to stop myself from grinning, but I couldn’t help it. The thought of seeing Farouk again and spending time with him made my heart leap in joy.

“SubhanaLlaah! How is that possible? How can Farouk Zubair be your date?” she stared at me in shock.

“It feels like a dream, but it’s the truth. Just yesterday, I spent a major part of my day with him. And now, he’ll be attending my ex’s wedding as my plus one,” I smiled in excitement.

Rasheedah picked up the pearl earrings from the jewelry box and helped me put them on. “Show me the way, nah!” she laughed.

“You’re the one that should show me the way. You’re getting married to Khalid, the son of a famous politician,” I said.

Rasheedah continued smiling. “I cannot believe that, by this time next year, I would have become a married woman. How is that possible?” she sighed deeply.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, but don’t forget to brush your teeth as you rise from sleep. Your mouth stinks, Rasheedah!” I said as we both fell on the bed, laughing hysterically.

“I need to leave on time. I wouldn’t want to keep Farouk waiting,” I was saying when Mom barged into the room.

“Where are you going to, Rafiah?” Mom asked as she stood hands akimbo, her dress smelling of onion and curry.

“I’m attending Tolu’s wedding,” I said, but Mom scrunched up her face in anger and disappointment.

“That Tolu? I thought I’d never heard that name in this house again. You do not have to attend. Or did your boss make it mandatory for every staff to attend?”

“No, she didn’t. Asmau isn’t even attending the wedding. She has an appointment with her doctor.”

“You see?” Mom said, staring at Rasheedah to get her approval. “You shouldn’t attend that wedding. Or don’t you know the gravity of what that Tolu did?”

“She is not going there alone. A famous writer will be her plus one,” Rasheedah said as she smiled at me.

Mom sat on the bed and stared at me with eager eyes. “I’ve missed so much from your life, Rafiah. Rasheedah’s wedding preparation has taken all of my time. So, you’ve met someone else?”

“No, Mom. We’re just going as friends. I’ll explain everything to you later. But first, I have to leave.”

“Ah, no. You have to eat before leaving. I just finished preparing a pot of porridge.”

I stood up and protested, shaking my head. “I’ll eat at the wedding.”

“What if you don’t get served? Last month, I went to Iya Jelil’s son’s wedding with an empty stomach, with the hope of eating amala and efo riro till my stomach bulges. Instead, I didn’t get anything to eat…” Mom was saying when my phone started to ring.

It was the cab driver calling. “I think my cab is outside. I need to leave now. Bye. Asalamu ‘alaykum,” I said as I grabbed my bag and walked out of the room.
***
I arrived at the wedding venue about an hour later, struggling to fight the nervous thoughts that engulfed me. How could I possibly walk into the wedding hall with Farouk by my side? How could I possibly do so?

“You will do this,” I muttered between breaths as I picked up my phone and dialed Farouk’s number.

“I’m in front of the hall,” I said.

“Okay. I’ll hop out of the car then,” he said, and I looked around the sea of cars parked, hoping to spot the car he was seated in.

Farouk descended from a black Mercedes, and he walked towards where I was standing, dressed in a kaftan and black kufi cap. “Asalamu ‘alaykum, Rafiah,” he greeted with a smile.

“Wa’alaykumu salam. How long have you been here?”

“Thirty minutes. I didn’t want to step into the hall without you.”

“Thank you,” I said in appreciation. “And I’m sorry for keeping you waiting.”

“It’s fine. I left home earlier to beat the traffic,” Farouk said as he glanced at me. “You look nervous, Rafiah. Do you want to do this? We can always turn back…”

“It’s fine,” I said with a sigh. “Let’s get in.”

“Okay!” Farouk said in a frisson as we stepped into the wedding hall, filled to the brim with guests.

Maher Zain’s Paradise rented the air, and from a distance, I could spot the bride and groom, looking dashing and flashing their brightest smiles.

“Look! That’s Rafiah!” I heard someone say, and soon, a hundred pairs of eyes were fixated on Farouk and me.

I grinned from ear to ear as Farouk and I settled on our seats. “We should take a picture. Out first outing together,” he said, and my heart leapt in excitement again.

Could there be a possibility of Farouk and me becoming a couple?

“Hi, there! Rafiah!” Janet hurried to where we were sitting as I posed for the camera. “Is this not Farouk Zubair? Oh yes, he is. Oh my God. Good morning…good afternoon, sir. You’re here with Rafiah?”

“Yes, I am,” Farouk was saying, but several people had gathered at our table, literally begging for pictures.

It took more than an hour for me to get used to the fact that people would keep staring at us until the wedding ceremony ended. After that, I tried to drift my mind to something else, like eating from the tray of small chops and going through my Instagram feed.

Farouk seemed more composed than ever. He was probably used to people gushing over him as a public figure. But my face was literally filled with sweat, knowing full well that people were staring at Farouk and me.

“May I ask what happened?” Farouk drifted me back to reality.

“What?” I asked in confusion.

“You and Tolu. I know it must be so hard. I cannot imagine how challenging it must be, seeing your ex at work every day and learning that he is engaged to another colleague.”

“It is very hard, Farouk. One evening, I received a WhatsApp message from Tolu, explaining why we should end our relationship. I spent the night drowning in my tears and wishing that I could erase every memory of him. Everything suddenly didn’t make sense. I even saw a therapist. I still don’t understand how I managed to get through that dreadful experience,” I said.

“We all get through the experience. At one point or the other, we get through it. Not because we did something spectacular to get through it or grew strong. We get through it because ALlaah created us as forgetful beings. We do not remember things exactly how they happened years ago, and we don’t spend all of our time thinking of these events.

“I’ve also been heartbroken. Jamila. Smart and outspoken. She walked up to me at an event, and we connected. We would spend our Saturdays talking about writing and foreign authors. So it came as a shock when she ended our engagement and travelled to Canada. Jamila wasn’t the committed type. She wanted to write and visit countries. She couldn’t bear to be limited by love,” Farouk concluded.

“I’m sorry about what happened to you,” I said.

“And I’m sorry you have to go through this. No one else attends their ex’s wedding. No one!” Farouk shook his head, and I laughed in response. “Well, food is here!” he exclaimed as the usher placed two plates of jollof rice and garnished goat meat in front of us.
***
I stepped into the office on Monday morning, feeling confident and beautiful. I’d never felt that way in a long time.

My colleagues greeted me with smiles as I walked graciously in my new black pointy heels. Tolu and Najeebah had been granted two weeks leave to travel for their honeymoon. Tolu had always talked about spending our honeymoon in Kano, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he took Najeebah there.

News had been spreading that I was in a relationship with Farouk. Some bold colleagues had approached me to confirm it was true, but I only responded with a grin.

As I turned on my computer, my phone chimed with a new notification. My heart raced faster as I picked up my phone and realised that it was from Farouk.

Gosh! I had fun yesterday! It’s been a long time since a boring writer like me had fun. All thanks to you.
PS- Don’t forget to do that task I told you.
- Farouk Zubair.

My face lingered with a smile as I reread the message over and over again. It took Mrs. Bola tapping my right arm to realise that she was standing in front of me.

“Good morning, Rafiah. How are you?” Mrs. Bola was staring at me with a big smile.

‘Good morning, ma.”

“Can you invite Farouk Zubair to our upcoming seminar? It will be a delight if he attends,” she said.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I replied.

“Thank you,” she smiled at me and walked to another table.

Asmau, who was trying hard not to laugh, ran towards my table immediately after Mrs. Bola left the office. “Was it not Mrs. Bola shining her teeth at you? Wow! I cannot believe a day like this would occur,” she laughed. “It’s obvious your outing with Munir’s brother went well.”

“He sent me this,” I said, handing over my phone to Asmau.

Asmau settled on a seat after reading the message and whispered in my ears. “Who do you really like? Munir or Farouk? Well, I know it is Farouk. What will happen to Munir?”

“Munir probably doesn’t like me. He sees me as a friend,” I quipped.

“Have you seen him today? He looks like someone who woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Asmau said as she stood up. “Start practicing how you will face Munir during lunch,” she concluded and returned to her desk.

Before starting the day’s work, I decided to create the long-awaited list before lunch break. So I took a pen and paper and started to write:

Career Decisions
Why I Should Choose Accounting
1. I spent 4 years studying accounting.
2. I make quite a deal of money from accounting.
3. Accounting is a professional course.
4. People will look at me with admiration when they learn that I am an accountant.
5. I will become one of the responsible Nigerian youth.

Why I Should Become a Writer
1. I will become happy.
2. I will be gain fulfillment.
3. I will be actualising my dream.
4. I will create my brand and better connect with other creatives.
5. I will become a renowned writer.
6. I will be able to share my works with a large audience.
7. More opportunity to spend time with Farouk.
8. More opportunity to connect with Farouk.
9. I reallyyyy like Farouk.

Nice one.

Episode Fifteen

I was seated on the green S-shaped chair, staring through the glass wall and searching the faces of every man that walked into the restaurant. I would flinch in anxiety whenever I caught sight of someone that looked like Farouk and let out a deep sigh when I realise that he wasn’t the one.

How could I want someone to be here and not be here at the same time? Gosh! Rafiah, you’re weird!

Five days, three minutes and five seconds ago, Farouk invited me to a lunch date. I remember vividly the remarkable way it had happened. I had just arrived from work and was about to take a shower when I heard my phone ring. I had dashed out of the bathroom and hurried to the bed to grab my phone. My heart juddered when I realised that it was Farouk calling.

He had requested to see me the following week to talk about some career-related issues, and I swiftly said yes. It was all I had wanted all week. To get a chance to see Farouk again. To sit beside him and watch him flash the nicest set of teeth I had ever seen as he laughed about a random issue.

And there I was, twenty minutes before the scheduled time, sipping from my bottle of Fanta and wondering how I would stay composed when I set eyes on Farouk again.

I took out a mirror from my bag and checked my face for the eleventh time. Mucus, dust, a stain on my teeth. Whatever. I needed to eliminate anything that would distract Farouk from admiring my beautiful face.

After confirming that my face was still in order (my face still glistening courtesy to my new brown powder and my lips still shimmering with my strawberry gloss), I turned on my data and went through his website.

I gasped in surprise, disappointed with myself for not realising that he had made a new update that morning. At 08:45 am, Farouk had published a new post titled ‘When I Find Love.’

I couldn’t help but wonder if it was a fictional or non-fictional work. Could Farouk be writing about me? Well, time will tell.

I was still scrolling through his older blog posts when I noticed someone enter the restaurant. Without looking up, I was certain it was Farouk that had walked through the door.

Whipping my head up, I caught sight of Farouk approaching my table with a bright smile, as always. He was dressed in a grey t-shirt and black pair of trousers.

“Asalamu ‘alaykum. May I have the honour of sitting in front of this beautiful lady?” he said with a grin.

I flustered and tried to hide it with a laugh. “Please sit, Farouk. Wa’alaykumu salam.”

“Thank you!” he replied as he settled on his seat. “So, what have you been up to, Rafiah?”

I sighed deeply and gulped down the last of my drink. “Well, I’m trying to withstand the pressures from my family members. Finding the right spouse is really challenging. But my family members believe it is much simpler than that. Like I could visit a website and download the right man automatically,” I said with a chuckle.

“You are beautiful and smart and intelligent. You shouldn’t be concerned about finding the right person to spend the rest of your life with. You will always find someone perfect for you. If not now, later,” Farouk said.

“Well, my younger sister is getting married this weekend. So I had to mute notifications on my phone so that I could breathe. Believe me, it is not easy at all. And some of the men out there have these patriarchal and orthodox beliefs. It’s crazy what these men see women as!”

Farouk laughed softly. “I think I understand what you’re saying. I’ve met a bunch of them.”

I continued. “And I’ve tried matchmaking websites. It was a disaster. We’ll stay here till evening if I relate the encounters I’ve had with men I met from these platforms.”

“I have been in a similar situation. One of my aunties tried to match me with a lady. The lady and I share zero interest. We couldn’t relate with each other at all,” Farouk laughed, and he sat upright. “For example, I have similar interests with you, you know,” Farouk said, and I wondered if that was a hint that we were a great match.

I cleared my throat and looked up at Farouk. “I have decided to become a writer.”

Farouk shook his head as he watched me carefully. “There is no rush at all. It takes time to make a big decision like that of your career.”

I rolled my eyes. “I thought we were here to talk about writing.”

“Well, you caught me. I actually wanted to spend time with you. What would you like to eat?”

“Oh, I really can’t eat. I’m sorry. I have to get to work on time,” I said with a frown.

Farouk raised his left hand and checked the time on his wristwatch. “Okay. We have twenty minutes to go. I promise to make use of that time judiciously. And I’ll drop you off so that you’ll get to work early.”

I smiled. “Okay then. I’ll have basmati rice and fried plantain.”

“Nice choice,” he grinned as he stood up. “Give me some minutes. I’ll get that right now.”

My stomach flipped in excitement as I watched him walk towards the counter.
***
About twenty minutes later, Farouk was driving into the company’s building as we laughed at his story of searching for amala in the UK. As Farouk parked his car, I noticed Munir walking past us with his bag of lunch. He turned sideways when he spotted us in the car and hurried inside the building.

Farouk and I sat in silence, knowing full well that we had witnessed the way Munir had totally ignored us.

“I’m not really close with my brother. But he has never ignored me in public. This is completely unusual,” he said and appeared to be deep in thought.

I pulled the seatbelt away and grabbed the bag of curry rice Farouk insisted I take along. “I need to get back to work. Thanks for lunch…and everything.”

“I should be thanking you for taking time to see me. I’ll be travelling to Abuja this evening. I should return next tomorrow, and I hope to see you again.”

“Me too. Bye. Asalamu ‘alaykum,” I smiled at him as I alighted from the car and walked into the building.

I had just stepped into the office when I noticed someone shove my hand. Asmau dragged me to the kitchen and placed my hand on her stomach. “Rafiah, the baby kicked!” she squealed in excitement.

“SubhanaLlaah. That’s amazing! Have you told Jamal?” I asked.

“Of course! I sent him tons of messages, and he replied with dozens of love messages. I am so excited!” she grinned at me. “So, how was your date?”

I smiled shyly and looked around. “I think I might have feelings for Farouk,” I was saying when Munir entered the kitchen.

Shock and embarrassment engulfed my face as I froze and stared at the ground. Why did he have to appear at that exact minute?

“Hi, ladies,” he greeted us as he grabbed a ceramic plate from the rack and set his lunch on the table.

“Hi, Munir,” I said as Asmau and I stared at each other and hoped he hadn’t heard what I said earlier on.

“Are you okay, Munir? You’re not your usual bubbly self,” Asmau said with concerned eyes.

Munir smiled at her, and for the first time in a long time, I saw him flash his set of teeth at us. “Not really fine. I have mild Malaria. I’ll take the day off tomorrow,” he said and turned towards me. “How’s preparation for Rasheedah’s wedding?”

“It’s going well. I think everything is perfect for the D-day,” I replied.

“I hope I’ll be invited…unlike Tolu’s own,” he chuckled.

“I’m sorry about that. If you hadn’t given me the go-ahead, I wouldn’t have attended with Farouk,” I said with a pleading tone.

Munir scratched his neck and rolled his eyes. “Did you really expect me to say no? I wouldn’t do that, nah,” he said as he rinsed the plate. “Well, I’m used to my brother winning my friends due to his charm and fame. So I signed for it before introducing you to him.”

“I’m so sor…”

“It’s fine, Rafiah. I’ll catch up with you guys later,” he gave a forceful smile and moved to the other side of the table with his lunch.

Asmau and I gave ourselves a knowing look as we walked out of the kitchen and returned to the office.
***
It was Rasheedah’s henna party, and ladies took out their phones to capture every moment.

Bottles of kunu tsagyi and trays of spring roll were placed in front of us as we stretched our hands and legs and gisted while the henna artist designed our skins.

I was ecstatic! Rasheedah would be getting married the next day, and we were all gathered to design our skins for the D-day. I smiled in excitement as a cold gush of wind tickled my skin. What could go wrong? Mom had collaborated with the wedding planner to ensure that the day would be perfect as planned, and Khalid’s parents had spent millions to make the wedding a grand one. Knowing that my sister would become a married woman in some hours’ time made me joyous.

“So by this time tomorrow, Rasheedah will be kissing Khalid with free will,” Maimunah, one of our distant cousins, said with a laugh.

Rasheedah widened her eyes and smiled shyly. “Maimunah! Don’t say that! You’ll start to make everyone picture Khalid and me kissing. And I don’t want that.” She gave a burst of throaty laughter. “Firdaus, did you tag me on your Instagram story? I want to repost.”

“Oh, I forgot. I’ll do so now,” Firdaus, one of Maimunah’s friends, said as she rammed her fingers on her phone.

Rasheedah was looking exceptionally beautiful in a blue gown and gold veil. I was still admiring her looks when a lady tapped my hand to inform me that my phone was ringing.

‘Farouk’ appeared on the caller ID. Unable to place the phone to my ears because my hands were painted with henna, I stealthily clicked on the ‘answer’ button and placed the call on the loudspeaker.

“Asalamu ‘alaykum, Rafiah. How’s the party going?”

“Wa’alaykumu salam. It’s going well. Have you returned to Lagos?”

“Yes, I have. And I really need to see you. I wouldn’t be able to do anything if I do not express my thoughts.”

“The henna hasn’t dried up. I cannot leave now. I’m sorry,” I was saying when I noticed that everyone was staring at me, especially Rasheedah, who wore a smirk.

“I’ll come over to your street and wait for you in an eatery…for how long it would take. I don’t mind. I’ll wait. Is that okay by you?”

“Yes, it is. I’ll send the address,” I said as my heart faced faster.

Is Farouk about to propose? Should I also be imagining walking down the aisle soon? Are all these a dream?’ I thought as I listened to Farouk talk about his flight and how the airline had delayed the passengers for more than one hour.

Thanks for the update ma’am

Ann2012:
Thanks for the update ma’am

You're welcome, sis!

Beautiful story you've got here. Anticipating the next episode��

Awwwn Munir o

Life and Everything in Between (Episode Sixteen)


Link: https://www.maryamnittywall.com/.../life-and-everything...

Thanks for the update ma’am

Ann2012:
Thanks for the update ma’am

Thanks for reading!

Life and Everything in Between (Episode Seventeen)
My heart thumped fast as Farouk picked up the call. We were silent for close to a minute, listening to each other’s heartbeat.

Farouk broke the silence a minute later by clearing his throat. “Asalamu ‘alaykum, Rafiah.”

“Wa’alaykumu salam. How are you? Did you get home on time?”

Farouk responded with a chuckle. “What’s up? Can you explain what happened back there?”

“I’m sorry. I was…I was so nervous that I didn’t know how to react. I’m sorry…”

“It’s fine. I totally get it. And like I said, I’d understand if you say no. But it will break my heart,” Farouk tried to fake-cry.

I laughed hard as I got up from the chair and paced around the verandah. “I like you very much, Farouk. To be honest, I also got attracted to you at first sight. And yes, I would really like to spend the rest of my life with you,” I said with a deep sigh.

Farouk squealed in excitement. “Oh my gosh! This means a lot to me. Thank you so much for this call. Now, I can sleep in peace,” he said with a bright tone.

“Really? You wouldn’t have slept?”

“Well, let’s call that being love-sick. And I spoke to Munir when I got back. I told him about my proposal. So he’s happy for us, Rafiah!”

My lips trembled slightly at the thought of Munir. How did I forget all about him? “How did he react?”

“He hugged me tightly and wished us well. But I told him that I hadn’t gotten a positive response. He laughed hard when I revealed what had happened.”

“What?! You told him?” I giggled.

“Of course,” Farouk was saying when I noticed a black figure standing opposite the building, watching me.

The figure appeared as a long-limbed man, dressed in a black hoodie and pair of trousers. I tried to get a closer look when the figure suddenly disappeared.

“Are you there, Rafiah?” Farouk asked.

“Yes…I’m sorry. I thought I saw someone strange. It’s fine. Are you attending the wedding?”

“Of course, I am. I’ll clear off my tasks to grace your sister’s wedding.”

“Okay. Thank you so much. We’ll see tomorrow then.”

“Okay. Bye!” I said as I hung up the call and sent a message to Munir.

Hey
- Rafiah.

Munir replied instantly.
Hey bighead! I mean, sister-in-law.
- Munir.

LOL. Are you serious? I haven’t said a ‘yes.’
- Rafiah.

But you will. Oh, come on. It’s obvious that you like Farouk.
- Munir.

Are you really okay with this?
- Rafiah.

Rafiah, you deserve to be happy. Stop feeling bad because you’re uncertain someone is displeased with what you want. I don’t have feelings for you. I don’t mean you’re undesirable or unattractive. I am not just in the right place, at this moment, for a relationship. I was previously scared that you being close to my brother would affect our friendship, but to hell with that! You deserve to be happy. I have witnessed all that happened with Tolu, and I want you to be with someone who sincerely loves and cares for you. Someone who would never break your heart. And I believe my brother is that person.
- Munir.

JazakaLlaahu khayran, Munir. I really appreciate your message. It means a lot to me.
- Rafiah.

It’s my pleasure. I’ll see you at the wedding!
- Munir.

I dropped my phone on the table and grinned widely, recalling all that transpired throughout the day. I had never felt that happy in a long time. What could possibly go wrong? Nothing!
***
Everything went wrong the next morning when we were all preparing for Rasheedah’s wedding day. Rasheedah had briefly left the house to see Khalid but never returned.

“She told me that Khalid was outside the gate and needed to see her before the wedding. I waited for close to thirty minutes, but Rasheedah did not return. I tried calling her number, but it was not reachable,” Aisha said in tears and continued. “I saw a glimpse of a man dressed in black. But the man disappeared immediately he caught me staring. I don’t know if this is related to her disappearance,” she added.

I recalled seeing a black figure last night and realised that someone might have been studying our movements. “I saw him last night.”

Mom fell on the floor and whimpered in despair. “What are all these? What is happening to this family? Why now?”

Dad stood up and walked towards the window, deep in thought. He turned towards us and tried to talk, but what came out were breaths of air. I also noticed that his hands were shivering.

“Maybe it is not connected. Rasheedah might have gone out with Khalid…and they might be stuck in traffic. Her phone battery could be flat.”

“Rafiah!” Dad bellowed at me. “We were threatened not to go ahead with the wedding? Don’t you understand what is happening?”

“SubhanaLlaah,” I gasped in fear, and I felt the blood rush to my heart with a thud.

Was Rasheedah safe? Was she kidnapped…what could have happened?

“We saw a note at the gate,” Zainab, one of our distant cousins, came in with a wrapped piece of paper.

Then, the living room was filled to the brim with friends and relatives, pacing about in fear and murmuring in hush whispers.

“Read what is written,” Dad ordered.

“You were warned!” Zainab read, her eyes widening in fear.

I thought the issue has been settled

aprilwise:
I thought the issue has been settled

I thought so, too

Thanks for the update ma’am

Ann2012:
Thanks for the update ma’am

You're welcome!

Episode Eighteen

Link- https://www.maryamnittywall.com/2021/11/life-and-everything-in-between-episode.html

Thanks for the update ma’am

Ann2012:
Thanks for the update ma’am

You're welcome, sis.

Life and Everything in Between
Episode Nineteen
It was two days after the unfortunate incident, and Rasheedah was still nowhere to be found. We had spent hours at the police station and searched the nook and crannies of Lagos. But Rasheedah was still missing.

And I had to show up at work, struggling to concentrate while my heart raced faster with the fear of Rasheedah being in danger.

It was one of those lunch periods when Asmau, Munir, and I visited our usual restaurant and ordered plates of jollof rice while we caught up with the latest news and events.

But there I was, staring at my untouched plate of jollof rice and struggling to control the tears from streaming down my face.

“Rafiah, you have to eat. I know this is hard for you…but you must eat and work. Asmau and I have you in our prayers. We are very hopeful that Rasheedah will return home,” Munir said as he stared at me with pitiful eyes.

Asmau touched my hand. “Munir is right. Rasheedah will be home soon. We just have to do all it takes to bring her back. But, yes, you must eat!” she stated as she grabbed a spoonful of rice and tried to force it down my throat.

I winced as I got hold of the spoon and returned it to the plate. “Gosh! Let me be, Asmau. I will eat. You don’t have to feed me!” I rolled my eyes as I started to eat.

Tears stung my eyes as I tried to swallow a spoonful of the smoky rice that had no taste. How could a meal- I looked forward to eating every lunchtime- suddenly become tasteless?

“Farouk and I have plans we’re currently working on,” I said as Asmau grinned sheepishly.

“I know I shouldn’t be smiling…not a good time. But this is awesome! Awesome couple goals, innit Munir?”

“Ah, yeah,” he said, looking distracted as he kept staring at his phone.

“Any problem?” I asked with a look of concern.

Munir gulped down his cup of water and forced a smile. “Nothing really. I’m just expecting someone- a lady, actually. Bushrah,” he explained as he lowered his eyes.

Asmau chuckled. “Why didn’t you tell us about this? So she’s coming here?”

Munir gave a thin smile. “No. We’re meeting somewhere else. I can’t risk having you guys mocking me at a corner while I talk to a lady.”

I laughed at that one. “Woah. I thought you were not interested in starting a relationship with someone?”

Munir shook his head. “Not this one. She’s actually the reason I haven’t had an interest in anyone. I have been on this case for two years. It’s a long story, sha,” Munir said as he rose from his seat. “I’ll see you, ladies, later. And be fine, Rafiah.”

With that, Munir dashed out of the restaurant, leaving Asmau and me to complete our tasteless food.

“Rafiah, I’m resigning. I need time to take care of the baby. The doctor revealed that I have to avoid any form of stress…” Asmau was saying, but I could hardly hear a word.

“You’re resigning? Like, you’re leaving me here all alone?” I glared at her.

“It’s for the best. I know you will miss me…and I’ll miss you too. And we will surely keep in touch. You’re my best friend, Rafiah. I cannot do without you,” Asmau said, and I couldn’t help but burst into tears.

Why was everything happening so suddenly? Couldn’t these unfortunate events happen one at a time?

“We will talk every single day. You would forget I’m not here physically. And we will find Rasheedah. I can’t wait to grace her wedding…and yours,” Asmau smiled at me as she pulled me into a tight hug.
***
At exactly 05:00 pm, Farouk was already seated in the car, waiting eagerly for my arrival. My face lit up as I caught sight of him waving at me.

I ran towards where his car was parked and fought the urge to pull him into an embrace. “Asalamu ‘alaykum, Farouk,” I greeted with a cheerful face.

Farouk was putting on a blue t-shirt and black pair of chinos, and he wore a black face cap with the Spider-Man logo.

“Wa’alaykumu salam, Rafiah. How was work?” he asked as I sat beside him.

“Work went well. Mrs. Bola kept assigning me new tasks. Finally, I forced a plate of tasteless jollof rice down my throat. Munir went on a date with a mystery lady, and Asmau announced her plans to resign.”

“Oops. Such an eventful day,” he said thoughtfully as he turned backwards and brought out a large food flask.

I chuckled. “Are you going to do this every day? Cook for me?”

“Well, it seems that’s the only meal you enjoy. It’s the least I can do,” Farouk shrugged as he handed me the flask.

“Thank you so much. This means a lot to me,” I thanked him as I opened the flask to the sight of steaming afang soup garnished with fish and goat meat.

“But how can you cook all of these despite your busy schedule?” I asked.

Farouk ignored me as he gave me three wraps of fufu. “You have to finish all of these. It’s an order!” he said with a chuckle.

“Aye, sir!” I responded as I grabbed a bottle of water from the pigeonhole and started to eat.

Farouk glanced at me and stared out of the window. “I just…I really hope we spend the rest of our lives doing this. I look forward to the short period I spend with you every day, Rafiah.”

“Me too. But I hope you understand why we can’t start a relationship. Rasheedah is still missing, and I can’t wrap my head around giving love to someone else. I can’t even introduce you to my parents now,” I said.

“I totally understand. I’m patiently waiting. No matter how long it takes, I would be here waiting,” Farouk smiled at me.

“Gosh! I don’t deserve you. You are too amazing. Too perfect. This is too good to be true.”

“No, I don’t think I deserve you, Rafiah. You’re beautiful and smart and intelligent. I haven’t found anyone like you in my twenty-eight years of living on earth. Do you think I don’t feel the same way?”

I giggled as I stared at the road. “I guess we both deserve each other.”

“Yes, we do…” Farouk was saying when someone tapped the glass.

I widened my eyes to get a clearer view. It was Khalid, staring down at me with puffy eyes.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

Thanks for the update ma’am

Ann2012:
Thanks for the update ma’am

You're welcome!

Life and Everything in Between (Episode Twenty-One)
Mutmainah grinned like a Cheshire cat as I talked about how supportive Farouk had been- the length he would go to protect me and ensure that I was okay.

“Awwwn. This is so sweet, Rafiah. He really loves you,” Mutmainah stated as she smiled affectionately.

“I do know that. I cannot imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else. He is perfect for me,” I explained.

“So, why haven’t you said a yes? If you keep delaying this…”

“It’s for a valid reason,” I quipped. “Farouk understands why I cannot say yes right now.”

“I am teary!” Mutmainah said with a chuckle as she cleaned her misty eyes. “Really lovely. Well, my love story is the complete opposite of yours. He jilted me for someone else. Well, I still love him, and I’m 100% certain that he is making a grave mistake getting married to someone else.”

‘Khalid,’ I thought.

“I am sorry about that. I’m sure you’ll find someone better…”

“No, I won’t,” she cut in. “I would never find anyone like Khalid. So, hold Farouk tight because a man like him is rare,” she added as the driver pulled into the green-coloured building.

The studio was smaller in size than I’d imagined. It was made of glass, and from where the car was parked, I could see a swarm of ladies engrossed in a discussion and watching others pose for the camera.

“Here we are!” Mutmainah said in excitement as she alighted from the car. I joined her as she walked towards the studio.

I sighed heavily as I stepped into the studio filled with tall and pretty models and cartons of the said product.

“Are you ready, Rafiah?” Mutmainah grinned at me.

“Yes!”
***
About an hour later, we drove out of the compound and talked about how great the shoot went.

“Thank you so much for accompanying me to the studio. You assisted a total stranger in taking pictures and promoting the brand she is working on. I am very grateful for this kind gesture,” Mutmainah said as she pulled the strip of her pointy heels and spread her legs on the seat.

“Oh, it is nothing. You’re not a total stranger. You’re a popular social media personality. Everyone will be excited to work with you.”

Mutmainah handed her phone over to me. “Can you type your account details here? And please, don’t start with the ‘why’ questions.”

“Okay,” I controlled my face from stretching into a smile as I grabbed the phone and inputted my account number.

I returned the phone, and my cell phone beeped that very minute. Mutmainah had sent fifty thousand naira to my account. “SubhanaLlaah! This is a lot. Thank you, Mutmainah. I have no regret bumping into you at the restaurant.”

Mutmainah turned sideways with a sad face and stayed silent for a meeting. “You know, I am very depressed. This may sound strange, but that is exactly how I feel. Despite my social media fame and dad’s wealth, I hate myself greatly. I lost the person I love the most, and I haven’t healed from the heartbreak.”

I squeezed her right hand tightly. “Everything is going to be fine. You have your family, and you have me now,” I said as she whipped her head up and smiled at me. “I’m also just healing from heartbreak. A colleague at work. He got married to a fellow colleague,” I chuckled as Mutmainah gasped in shock.

“How did you manage that? I would have resigned!”

I laughed loudly. “I honestly don’t know how I was able to manage it. But here I am, madly in love again!”

“Erm, can you describe your home address to the driver?”

“You don’t have to do that…” I was saying.

“I insist. It’s the least I can do for stealing your time,” Mutmainah argued.

“Okay,” I replied as I did so.

As we continued the journey to my house, Mutmainah talked about her struggle with mental health and how she had visited several therapists.

“Apart from Instagram influencing, what else do you do?” I asked.

“Well, I was in law school but had to take a break to heal. I should be able to return to school next year, in sha ALlaah,” Mutmainah added.

The driver pulled up in front of the house, and I turned towards her with a grin. “Thank you for today!”

“I should be thanking you,” she pulled me into a hug. “Have I saved your number?”

“Yes, we exchanged numbers at the studio,” I replied as I grabbed my bag.

“Great. I will call you tomorrow. See you soon. Bye!”

“Bye,” I waved at her as I walked into the compound.
***
I gasped in surprise and shock as I perceived the aroma of boiled turkey wafting the air. We hadn’t prepared a real food since Rasheedah got missing, and I’d practically spent the week forcing a spoonful of pap into Mom’s mouth. So, what was happening? Or had Rasheedah returned?

“You’ve returned!” Mom said in excitement as she walked into the living room with a wooden turner. “Who owns that car that you just got down from?” she asked with a smirk.

I stared at her in utter disbelief. The last time Mom smiled was before Rasheedah’s disappearance. The last time I saw her standing and…

“Is it a new person? You’ve found someone else?”

Beads of sweat formed around my forehead as I continued to stare at her. “Has Rasheedah returned?”

“Oh, she will. Didn’t she just travel? I’ve called the caterer to inform her that the wedding is finally happening on Saturday. She thinks I’m crazy. Your dad thinks so, too. Imagine!” Mom shook her head in disbelief.

“Which wedding is happening on Saturday?” I asked in confusion.

“Rasheedah’s wedding, of course! She’ll be returning on Thursday. Why don’t you assist with calling the small chops lady? You have her number, don’t you?”

“Ah, yes. I’ll call her now,” I said as I hurried into the room to find Dad.

Dad had just ended a call when I stepped into his room. He looked up at me with furrowed brows and patted the space beside him as a sign that I should sit. “Your mother will be fine. I just spoke to a psychologist. She is trying to cope with the grief of losing a child. And we still haven’t found Rasheedah.”

“SubhanaLlaah. This is unbelievable,” I said as tears filled my eyes.

“Don’t you believe in ALlaah’s miracles? I believe that Rasheedah is alive and will return home safe and sound. Your mother will also be fine,” Dad affirmed as he stared at me with sympathetic eyes.

Thanks for the update ma’am