Bello Kabir

By the time I park under the canopy in Senator Ibrahim Tahir's house, I am having mixed feelings about Ruqayya.

Throughout the date, I was expecting her to show possessiveness, or rather, excessive love for me, because she has made her intentions clear, that she likes me and is willing to marry me. But there's an if, and that if is what I haven't been able to find out just yet.

Halfway through our date, some girl with multiple nose piercings came up to us—me —, and asked for for my number. Ruqayya didn't even bat an eyelash at the girl.

"I had fun today, Bello. Thank you." Ruqayya gives me a small polite small and reaches for the door handle, but I stop her by calling her name. She turns to me, her expression blank. Honestly, I don't know what to say or do at this point.

I have gone on a lot of dates. But Ruqayya is different. She's so laid back and chill and everything about her is just so relaxed and perfect. I don't know how to explain it. But it's like she has me charmed or something.

"Goodnight," I eventually say and Ruqayya smiles at me.

"Goodnight, Bello." She steps out of the car and walks to the entrance. All the while, I can't take my eyes off her.

I have met a lot of beautiful girls, I have met a lot of well-mannered girls. In fact I've met all types of girls, with Ummu always playing matchmaker.

But Ruqayya is different. There's just something about her that draws me in and at the same time pushes me away. I don't even know what I feel for or about her. I am really in a bind.

At first, I was sure that I was only attracted to her. She's beautiful, with a slim yet curvy figure. And she has a flawless skin, I've seen her without any makeup that I was able to tell she had makeup on today. Bottom line; Ruqayya is beautiful. Any guy would be attracted to her. But it's not that kind of attraction I have for her.

I am attracted to her in such a way that I can't help but sit across from only her every morning and night for dinner and breakfast. And I can't help having at least three seconds eye contact with her. Also, I only realized today, that I have started noticing some things about her. Like that she doesn't have pancakes with anything but honey and some grapes. And that she has a slight cold every morning she wakes up which results in her having a pink nose and cheeks. So she sneezes constantly until the sun is slightly up.

I sigh and kill the engine of the car before stepping out. By next tomorrow, I will be hours away from her. Maybe it's the proximity that is getting to me, but I won't know until I leave. So for now, I'll just bask in her presence.

It has been two day since I left Abuja and it is quite unfortunate for me, but I have become a stalker. Only for one lady though, but a stalker nonetheless.

I don't know what has gotten into me. But when I came back on Sunday, I suddenly missed Ruqayya. So I sent her a quick text, a harmless one that didn't give anything away.

I arrived home safely, Alhamdulillah. Tell Ummi and Abba too.

I waited by my phone all through the evening for a reply, and I didn't get one until around 9pm. And it wasn't even a reply. She simply replied with a thumbs up emoji. Just a thumbs up.

I thought we were way past that. And I couldn't think of anything else to say after that. Because Ruqayya had actively ended the conversation even before it started.

I waited until the next morning, yesterday that is, and I sent her a morning message. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Good morning, Ru. I hope you had a good night's rest.

I intentionally added the nickname to ease her into the conversation. And again, she didn't reply until hours later, around 6pm when I was driving back home from work.

Again, the reply left no room for further conversation.

Alhamdulillah, thanks.

I don't know what to think anymore. I thought Ruqayya liked me, she has never said it but it was very obvious. And girls loved to text the boys they liked. So I just can't make sense out of it.

That night, after I stared so hard at the text that I'm sure every bit of it is ingrained in my head by now, I decided to try a different approach; Instagram. Ruqayya is one of those slay queens that are almost always active on social media.

So that night, instead of editing my manuscript that is presently due in the next two hours, I started my hunt for Ruqayya on Instagram. I started with her name and surname, Ruqayya Ibrahim. Obviously a lot of Ruqayya's came up and I went through almost all of them before realizing that I need to be more specific about the Ruqayya I'm looking for.

So I typed in Ruqayya Ibrahim Tahir and three pages popped up. Ruqayya's account was the third account . I didn't follow her immediately, I'm not stupid. She'll be wise enough to know that I was stalking her if I dared to follow her. Although, I can easily say that she came up in my suggestions because I have her contact. But I didn't want to embarrass myself.

So I created a new account just for the purpose of her.

And now, I've been keeping tabs on her. When she comes active, when she posts something on her story or feed, when she goes live and all that. That seemed to be working, until some minutes ago when I mistakenly opened her story with my actual Instagram account. I forgot to switch accounts before viewing her story.

I sigh and push all Ruqayya related thoughts before focusing on the manuscript in front of me. It is just a little over three thousand words. I wonder why it's taking me so long to edit it.

I don't know why I'm wondering why I am unable to edit this manuscript. It's because I can't get a certain caramel skinned lady out of my head.

One glance at the time and I realize it's been thirty minutes since I sat down to edit the God forsaken manuscript. In the next twenty minutes, I'll have to be on my way to the government house where the governor has called for a press conference.

Mrs. Mamman usually covers things like this but she's on maternity leave so I have to fill in for her until she's back to work. I sigh and try to focus. Ten minutes should be enough on a normal day.

And by the time a knock comes on my door, followed by Emmanuel's voice telling me to get my stuff for the press conference, I'm already rounding up the last paragraph.

I drop the now edited manuscript and take my notebook and pen. I don't forget my phone like I would usually do. In fact I remember to pick it together with my pods easier than I usually would've. I'd say it's the effect Ruqayya has on me. Or has had on me.

The drive to the government house is short, considering we're not really far from it. And the press conference lasts only a little above thirty minutes. The question and answer session takes barely ten minutes and that is all.

By the time I get back, I've gotten my senses back and can now type the now edited manuscript with full concentration. I send in the now edited manuscript to Mrs Evelyn.

My phone vibrates on the table and I rush to pick it. My excitement deflates when I see that it is Yaya calling me and not Ruqayya. I hesitate before swiping on the green icon and dropping the phone back.

"Bello Kabir." I don't even feel the mirth in our inside joke.

"Yaya, how far?"

"Abu wants to see us regarding our visit to Abuja this evening." I sigh, I was expecting this. But I didn't that it'd come so soon. I thought I'd have my feelings sorted out and maybe one proper conversation with Ruqayya.

What do I tell Abu now? Abu hates ambiguity. If it's positive, it's positive, if it's negative, it's negative. But what now? Because I don't know if it's a yes or no.

"BK, are you there?" I snap out of my trance and hum in response.

"I guess you're busy now. Just be there." Yaya ends the call and I sigh.

I really need to get myself together.

A knock on my door followed by a salam comes and I reply to the salam. MD saunters in with her signature black Louis Vuitton bag in hand.

"BK." I stand up and she waves her hand dismissively.

"I just came to let you know that since Mrs Mamman is still on maternity leave, you have to edit the information we got from the press conference with the governor and prepare it for Samuel to present tonight. And it will have a page in the weeks newspaper. I trust you have it handled." I nod.

"I'm closing now. I have a date to attend to." The small revelation has me smiling. MD is really moving on from me.

"Allah ya sanya albarka." MD smiles and walks out.

I sit back down and pull my notebook and MacBook, ready to get back to work. It takes me almost three hours to round everything up and send it over to the newspaper department. I only took breaks for Zuhr and Asr prayers, and I'm very hungry.

It's almost closing time, so I can leave now. I sign out and head to a restaurant three blocks away. I can't wait until I get home knowing that dinner won't be ready by then. I simply have egg fried rice with some iced tea. It should hold me for a while.

I head to my house and take a bath then decide to call Ruqayya and get it all over with. Maybe when I talk to her I'll get some clarity. I call her, the phone almost rings out before she picks. Her voice comes and I feel like time has stopped, literally.

I know I've missed her but I didn't know it was to this extent. It is as if warm water has been poured on my insides, warming every crevice and orifice. My taut muscles suddenly relax and I feel like I am floating.

I have had my own fair share of women, but Ruqayyah is a revelation as to what the female species are capable of doing to me. I have never felt like this towards anyone. Not even my first and only love so far, though I'm not so sure she's going to be the only woman I'll love now.

"Assalamu Alaikum, Bello? Are you there?" I snap out of my reverie and pull the phone from my ear. The call has been on for two minutes.

"Sorry, I'm a little distracted." Ruqayya hums, probably not know what to say to that.

"You haven't been replying my texts."

"I have replied every of your texts." I sigh.

"Did I offend you, Ru?"

"Don't call me that. And no, you haven't done anything." I sigh again. I don't know why her attitude is affecting me so much.

"Why are you giving me attitude?"

"I'm not giving you attitude. This is just how I talk." I sigh again. Ruqayya...

"Look, Ruqayya. I don't know what I did to deserve this attitude, but I'm sorry. I like you, okay. And not just because my dad and your dad think I should, but because I really do. If you don't like me, tell me. Don't give me attitude." I hear her chuckle.

"Bello, what will make me believe you're not just doing this because your dad asked you to." I smile.

"What do I do to make you believe me?"

"I don't know." I don't know how, but I can hear her smile in that sentence.

"Give me a week." I hear her soft chuckle, like a thousand feathers rubbing over my body.

"Okay, Bello. Goodnight." I smile.

"Goodnight, Ru." She chuckles again before ending the call.

I spring up when my eyes fall on the time. It's already time for Maghrib prayer. I quickly pray and take my keys then head out, Ruqayya hovering in the back of my mind.

A week is too much to make her realize that I am the one for her. I'm a writer for a reason. I can write a five hundred paged book on how to impress a woman and sweep her off her feets. And women like Ruqayya are more predictable than they give themselves credit for.

I'll start tomorrow, no, I'll start tonight.

But for now I will go to Abu and give him the clear answer he needs.

I arrive at the house at the same time the people in the mosque start dispersing. I enter the house, noting that Yaya's car is already under the canopy. He's the CEO of his company, it's understandable that he can leave at any time he wishes.

I find him seated on one of the couches and and I join him. We haven't really talked about what we're going to tell Abu. I know Yaya won't tell me a thing though. He revels in the mysterious air he has built around himself and I won't take that from him, not that I can even if I tried.

Ummu walks down the stairs, the head of maids beside her as they discuss God knows what. When she reaches us, she smiles.

"In nyalli jam Ummu?" We chorus.

"Jam kalau." We follow her to the dining.

"Remember, it is tomorrow. I don't want any mistakes." I furrow my brows while Yaya seems not in the least bit concerned.

"What's happening tomorrow, Ummu?" Ummu sighs.

"Your father is having a get together, in this house. You know that yearly thing that they do with his university friends? Well, it's his turn to host it." Ummu sighs, I know how tiring it can get for her.

"Where's Afreen?" Ummu shrugs.

"Kunsan kanwar taku. Your father has spoiled her rotten. I have no say whatsoever in what she does. She went to meet him this morning all dressed up and she hasn't come back since then." I nod. Afreen is my younger sister and undoubtedly Abu's favorite. She's named after his late mother, so he spoils her rotten.

She's just in SS2 but he has gotten her a car and a driver. Although she can't drive, she gets to go anywhere with her sleek black EOD. Abu didn't buy me a car until I was done with university. I had to always beg Ummu to borrow me hers.

Yaya got his first and only car from Abu in his second year in university when Abu's business had really started to bloom.

But we can't complain, nobody dares to complain about how Afreen is treated. It's one of the few things that spike Abu.

Abu arrives with Afreen by his side, both laughing and chatting.

"She couldn't believe it was a black card. She had to browse what a black card looked like and compare it to the Google picture." Afreen laughs again and Abu pats her head.

"Whether she believes it or not, my princess gets whatever she wants. Whatever it is." Afreen smiles and take her usual seat beside Abu.

"Family." Ummu simply ignores Abu and calls for one of the maids to bring Abu's food. Ummu still hasn't stopped cooking for Abu despite how everything has gotten. She has made it her priority to cook for him twice everyday, with her own hands without having someone even cut onions for her.

We eat in silence and when we're done, we move to the sitting room. Abu asks about Yaya's company and after that, he starts talking about what we all know has us seated here.

"As we all know, Bello and Abdallah went to Abuja for a short while. I don't think I have to point out why they went." Ummu's scoff comes and Abu glares at her slightly.

Ummu is completely against the entire family of Senator Ibrahim Tahir. I don't understand why her hatred for them runs so deep. Abu hasn't said a word about it. It's obviously something he's not going to address.

"So, Bello, Abdallah, what are your responses?" I gesture to Yaya to talk first and he starts.

"Fa'iza is not the one for me Gaskiya. She's untameable and very disrespectful. And she ticks all the red boxes in my head." I hear Ummu's snicker before she chuckles.

"As though Salma could've raised anything better." Abu finally turns to Ummu.

"Salaha, unless you want us to have this conversation here, in front of your children, you better stop that childishness, sunnah mukeso mu raya a nan, bah mu cigaba da gaba bah." Ummu doesn't say anything. I've never seen Abu talk to her like that. This must be serious...

"Bello, and you?"

"I really like Ruqayya, Abu. And she likes me too. I can live with her as my wife, In Shaa Allah." Abu's face breaks into a wide smile while Ummu gasps loudly behind me.

"Bello, ajamo kuwa?" I ignore Ummu. I won't allow her hatred or whatever it is get between me and Ruqayya. I can literally feel her love pumping through my veins together with my blood.

Yes, I love Ruqayya Ibrahim Tahir.

"Salaha." Abu calls in a warning tone and Ummu stands up and leaves the parlor, muttering whatever under her breath in Fulfulde.

"Are you sure, Bello? I hope you're not doing this because I asked for a favor." I shake my head.

"No, Abu. I really love Ruqayya." Abu smiles widely again.

"Maa Shaa Allah! Alhamdulillah! I will call Senator right now and we'll start discussing your wedding plans. I don't want you to spend another six months unmarried. Or do you have something against it?" I shake my head. Six months actually sounds good to me.

"Maa Shaa Allah. Alhamdulillah. You have made me do happy Bello. Allah ya maka albarka." I smile.

"Ameen, Abu." Abu leaves the parlor putting his phone to his ear.

19-05-2023
Edited.

I think we all saw Abdallah's reply coming.

Who is excited to attend a wedding? I know I am. Especially knowing there will undoubtedly be drama.

Okay, bye!