Ruqayya Ibrahim Tahir.

I am already rounding up the last chapter of my project. God knows I am so happy and can't wait to finally see my four years of hand work end in a sheet of paper. Heck, that sounds very... I don't know, but I'm very happy.

Just as I get stuck on a word that I can't remember, Fa'iza literally jumps into the room.

"Fa'iza Mubarak Hakimi, are you dey ment?" Fa'iza guffaws at my failed attempt at broken. Someone else would've given up on learning broken but not me. I must perfect it the way Fa'iza did.

"Abeg shut up. Mo dey go. Abba dey call us." She's oppressing me. But it's fine. I'll learn how to speak broken. Especially since I'll be free from next week Sunday. The thought alone makes me unnecessarily happy. Well, it's not unnecessary but still.

"Oya na. No wam." Fa'iza guffaws again and I smack the idiot at the back of her head. Her guffaw becomes louder, bouncing around the walls of the corridor as we head for the stairs.

We head to Abba's sitting room and find him sitting, smiling, Ummi beside him, her expression blank. I wonder what has made Abba so happy.

"Mamana, Fa'iza. Come and sit." Abba hardly ever calls me Mamana, unless.. I remember my ten minutes call with Bello. He couldn't have already... Could he?

Fa'iza and I exchange looks before we sit on the carpeted floor, in front of him. He scoots closer to us, away from the back rest of the couch. His hands sit giddily on his thighs and he sighs.

"Alhaji Kabir just called me." My own breath gets out at the same time Fa'iza's does. I don't know if hers is relief, but mine is.

I don't know what I was expecting honestly. I kind of thought Bello would call himself. But I guess not everyone has the audacious attitude I have. If everyone did, I would've committed lots of murders, astagfirullah.

But when I imagine everyone having the amount of audacity I do, it makes me feel murderous. The world would be extremely chaotic. Good thing it isn't.

"He talked to Bello and Abdallah." Abba looks pointedly at Fa'iza with a frown. Fa'iza in turn, lowers her head.

"Fa'iza, what happened? Alhaji Kabir relayed that Abdallah said some unbecoming things about you." I hear Fa'iza's sigh before she raises her head. I can imagine the amount of strength and sheer will it takes for her to meet Abba's stern gaze.

Fa'iza and I are like two ends of a magnet, opposite, yet we attract to each other. While I am very bold and don't hold back, Fa'iza would rather shrink than be like me. She's the type of person that would apologize for something that's entirely not her fault to allow peace reign. She hates confrontations and forgives easily. I'm the exact opposite of that.

"Abba, Abdallah is... He's misogynistic." I can see Abba rack his brain for the meaning of the word before he shakes his head.

"It means he believes in inferiority of women." I butt in. Abba scrunches his face up in what looks like confusion.

"I don't understand inferiority of women. Allah said arrijaalu qawwaamuna alan nisaa." Fa'iza shakes her head.

"Not like that, Abba. Let me tell you some of the things he said and did when we whet out. First of all, he made remarks about my dressing, saying something about a proper Arewa woman not supposed to be wearing that." Abba fishes for his phone, no doubt to check the picture from that day. We are required to send him a picture of our dressing every day before we go out. Security reasons and moral too.

"You didn't send me a picture that day." Fa'iza fishes her phone from the pockets of her pajamas.

"I sent it to your old number, probably. But Ummi was the one that picked out the clothes for me that day." Fa'iza hands her phone to Abba. I can't see the picture, but I saw what she wore. There's absolutely nothing wrong with a high-waisted skirt and a body hug. The body hug wasn't even hugging her body. Fa'iza is literally skinny, there's absolutely nothing for the shirt to hug.

"Then, after that, when we went to the restaurant, he ordered salad for me." The actual hell? I am sure Abba would need an explanation for that too.

"And it's bad that he wants you to eat healthy?" Fa'iza shakes her head.

"He said that when he marries me, he doesn't want me to get fat. That he hates fat girls. And I told him that I don't think I would ever get fat. Only for him to say I would bloat like a baby hippo." Of course I had to laugh at the last three words, the fuck is a baby hippo?

Abba looks pointedly at me and I close my mouth.

So, not only is Abdallah a misogynist, he's also the body shaming type. How I would love to have a conversation with his ugly self.

"Subhanallah, he's body shaming you?" Fa'iza doesn't say anything.

"He did a lot more worse things, Abba. But I don't want to keep repeating the things he said. I just can't tolerate him. In fact, if it's upto me, I don't even want to look at his face ever again." Abba nods.

"I understand. I'm sorry you had to go through that. Allah will bring a better man your way." We all chorus an In Shaa Allah and Abba turns to me, his giddy smile returning.

"And Bello professed that he loves you. You've already gotten to that stage?" I can feel my confidence blooming, of course the perfume and dark femme tips work. I don't know what I was expecting honestly. I know they were eventually going to work, but I didn't know they were going to work this soon.

"I told you daman ai, he's going to learn to love me." Abba shakes his head.

"Ja'ira." We laugh and he gets serious.

"Alhaji Kabir suggested something, that we start the wedding preparations immediately so that in the next six months, your wedding would've taken place." I feel my heart slightly jump, and then my chest feels like it will burst opens.

Deep breaths, Ruqayya. Too much excitement is not good for you.

"Are you okay with that, mamana?" I don't know what to say. What's supposed to be my response to that? Yes? No? I don't know what I am supposed to say. I like Bello. No, I love Bello. But isn't six months too soon?

But I don't see any reason to drag it. I sigh.

"Yes, Abba." Abba's face breaks into a grin.

"Maa Shaa Allah. Your mother was saying you wouldn't agree, amma ni nasan maman nawa." I smile and he pats my head.

"Allah ya miki albarka, my only daughter. Allah ya muku albarka gabadaya." Abba adds the second sentence as an after thought after he realizes his slip up. I steal a glance at Fa'iza but I don't see anything on her face. She has a small smile on as we chorus Ameen.

It's times like this when Abba slips up that I realize Fa'iza is really not my sister. He hardly ever slips but when he does, it's a very obvious one.

Ummi never slips though, in fact sometimes it's like Fa'iza is her daughter and I'm her niece.

I always wonder, doesn't Fa'iza wonder where her father is? Or what her life would've been if her mom was alive? Doesn't she think about all possibilities? I know I would've. But it's like I always say. I am not Fa'iza, we can never be the same.

"Toh, sai da safe koh?" We wish him Goodnight and head back to our rooms. I finish up what I'm doing and lay to sleep when I remember I haven't plugged my phone to charge. I have a birthday party to attend tomorrow, it's one of my course mate's daughter's first birthday. And she has invited us all, well most of us.

I am one of the few close friends she has so I'm going there to help her set up. I pick my phone and look at the battery percentage when a notification catches my eye. A text message from Bello.

My lips immediately curve as I open it.

Goodnight, baby girl.

It's a simple short text, and I've gotten thousands of them. But this one is special, because I love the man who sent it.

Instead of replying, I simply plug my phone and go to bed.

When I wake up for subh, I have a headache. I perform ablution and pray before going out to greet Ummi and Abba. I meet Fa'iza on the way, as usual, we walk to Abba's room together.

We meet Abba and Ummi on their individual praying mats and after we supplicate together, we greet them and then everyone goes back to their room. That has been the tradition for as long as I can remember.

I go back to sleep after unplugging my phone and wake up by 7am. My last defense is by 10am but I'm too giddy to sleep until 9am or 8am.

I go downstairs for breakfast, greeting Ummi and Abba again. Fa'iza is all dressed, a bag by her side and her phone on the table.

"Ina zuwa?" I ask after serving myself the sultanate chips.

"Work. I forgot to tell you, Abba got me a place in national hospital." My mouth forms on O shape and I start eating.

We finish eating and Ummi and Abba pray and blow du'as atop Fa'iza's head before she steps out, a bright smile on her face.

I head back to my room and get ready. By the time I'm done, it's already 9am. So I simply pick a peach veil to match with my burgundy maxi dress that has peach lace at the bottom and sleeves. I add gold plated earrings to match and some rings then slip on my peach loafers. I take a picture and send it to Abba and Ummi before stepping out, my burgundy uni bag holding my laptop, phone, chargers, air pods and bind project.

I slip into my platinum BMW and the gate man immediately opens the gate. When I am half way out of the house with the car, the gate man knocks on the glass. I wind it down and look at him expectantly.

"Ina kwana ma. There was a delivery for you this morning. Alhaji said I should stop going into the house so I waited for you to come out." I know he'll continue rambling so I just collect the bouquet and paper bag. I sit them on the passenger seat and wind my window back up then drive out.

The drive to school is short and when I arrive, my phone rings.

"Ruks!" One of my course mates and friend's voice comes the moment I accept the call.

"Ke kam bakya sallama." I can already imagine her rolling her eyes.

"Are you in school already ne?"

"Yes, Wasila." I hear her sigh loudly.

"Wallahi my car broke down just four minutes away from school fah. Daddy has been telling me to leave it that he'll ask someone to take it to the mechanic but I was so stubborn, oh Allah!"

"Where exactly are you?"

"I am just opposite that bakery we go to after class, nile bakery." I sigh, that's close to Chi's house.

"Have you called Chi? You know that's close to her house and the girl has a nick for being late. Call her and see if she can pick you up from there. You can call your dad and let him know so he'll send someone to come pick the car." I hear her rumbling and trying to start the car before she sighs.

"Okay," She says before ending the call.

Wasila is one of those daddy's girls that has her father wrapped around her dainty well-manicured fingers. She is the only daughter of ex-governor of Zamfara state, Hon. Abubakar Dambazau. She was the second daughter, but her older sister committed suicide because of depression. Or so she says. And her father has been the most spoiling type since after that. I bet if Wasila asks him to put his hand in fire, he will.

My attention is yawed back to the reason I'm in school when my alarm goes off from the phone in my hand. It is already 10am. I'm the second person on the list of those doing their defense today, since we're the last batch. But I have to at least be there for Zara, she's the first and knowing the book worm, she has been in that hall for the past hour.

I turn to pick my bag when my eyes fall on the paper bag and bouquet. I don't even know who sent it. I pick the bouquet first, noting that the flowers are actually real. I'll have to give them to Fa'iza, she's obsessed with those stuff.

I take two quick pictures of them, saving them for my Instagram.

I pick the paper bag and find a small note in it. It's on a scrap paper or something similar.

The note has me smiling, and the little error he's made. I don't mind that he made a small mistake. I drop the paper in my pigeonhole and lock it before proceeding to check out the items in the paper bag.

There's a signed copy of Chimamanda Adichie's latest book, Where the children take us. I remember telling him how I am not a fan of literature but Chimamanda Adichie's works have a choke hold on me. It was merely a piece of information I'd thrown his way, I am genuinely shocked he remembered.

I drop the book and proceed to find a box of what looks to be jewelry. A bow is wrapped around it, I loosen the glittery material and it falls on the passenger seat. Opening the box, a gasp falls from my lips.

I am a sucker for jewelries. And Bello just hit me with one of the most beautiful jewelry sets I've ever seen.

It's a three piece watch set in rose gold, my favorite color. The wrist watch is slim and has little silver jewels all over the handle, while there's a layer of silver surrounding the actual watch, and then on either side of the watch, are two bracelets — one silver and one gold.

The detailing around the bracelets is so beautiful and carefully done that it looks like something from Tiffany & co. But on a closer look, one would say it's from Cartier. It is that beautiful.

I flip over the cover of the box only to find out its unbranded. Wow. I close it back and drop it then pick the last item in the paper bag. It is a box or something similar wrapped in brown paper. The packaging doesn't look promising, but I tear at it nonetheless.

There are three things inside; a pack of coloring pens, tabs and three glittery pens. Annotation items, I would recognize the combo anywhere. Fa'iza is always buying those stuff.

Too bad I don't use them, the glittery pens look cute. But I don't tab my books. I just read and absorb them. Fa'iza and Ummi are the ones who annotate and tab. But Ummi uses just green highlighter and green tabs. While Fa'iza uses anything and everything.

I keep them back in the brown paper and shove them in the paper bag. I will just give them to Fa'iza.

The realization that I am getting late dawns on me and I quickly take my handbag and lock the car before hurrying to the hall. Luckily for me, Zara is not done with her defense. I take a sit in the middle row towards the front and settle down, noting that we have external supervisors.

One of them is my project supervisor. I can already see how much of a disaster this is going to be. Hopefully, we all finish today and finally have our send off and after party by the end of this week. Then I can start my clearance and finish it all before the month wraps up.

Clapping snaps me out of my reverie and I join in the clapping. It seems Zara is done and it's time for the supervisors to ask questions. That's the hardest part of the defense. And it doesn't help that we are answering questions about what we didn't write. Not that answering questions about we will be asked to write will be any better.

Bello's words from our date comes back to me. Own the moment, and listen to their questions carefully before answering.

It takes Zara almost twenty minutes to answer all four of the questions hauled at her before she is finally done. Another round of applause follows and then I'm next.

An hour twenty minutes later, everyone is clapping once again and my external supervisor seems impressed. Pride blooms in my chest as I take my things and go off stage.

By the time all of my friends are done, the sun is close to setting and Zara is already on her way home. Family emergency. Her sister is trying to cut herself again.

We stop by the bakery, have our much needed lunch before everyone heads home our course mate's daughter is sick so no birthday party.

The moment I enter my room, the call to Maghrib is made. I pray and head down to find something to eat. The croissants I had at the bakery only did little to sate my hunger.

I find remnant of Ummi's samosas so I fry some with some spring rolls and take the doughnuts in the fridge. I know it's for Fa'iza and she'll throw a fit once she finds out I ate it but what are sisters for?

My phone pings with a notification from whatsapp. I brought it down with me to post some snaps from today on my IG and snapchat story.

It's a chat from Bello. There's a screenshot from my story earlier today when I posted my fit and captioned it "final defense today, Alhamdulillah!". There's a message underneath that has me smiling.

Congratulations, baby girl. Allah ya sa an gama a sa'a. I'll call you after Isha In Shaa Allah.

26-05-2023
Edited

Isn't Bello the sweetest? Ughhh. I need a Bello.

Abba is one funny man.

Don't forget to keep sharing.

I don't think I mentioned this before but if I did, I'm repeating it again. Before you go will be going off wattpad twenty four hours after the epilogue or last chapter. Idk if there'll be an epilogue but yeah.

So if you are waiting for me to finish, better stop waiting and start reading now.

Bye!