LAILA
Falling in love could be exhilarating, exciting and fun. Or more, But it's also one of the most frightening things you could do when you come off on a side of domestic violence.
I've been against staying in an abusive marriage my whole life, call me a feminist, but there's more to life than sticking in an abusive relationship probably so the society does not term you as a 'divorcée'.

My reality is I have come to expect pain and lies. I have stopped believing in an inherent goodness within the hearts of humans, especially the male kind. My default has become distrust of any and all. Guilty until proven otherwise, yup.

My mama could be the typical strict African mother, she's smacked me a few times but never to an extreme extent.
I've had rough times with my brothers as well, my mama never let them lay hands on me. Mama says there's never an excuse for a man hitting a woman, not one.

I saw Quraish as nothing short of amazing. He seemed attentive, gentle, kind and thoughtful, a great communicator too... everything I ever wanted.
We weren't much acquainted from the few days I've known him but I did a bit of stalking, a lot actually.
I'll be getting married to him so what do you expect?
He has a twitter, belongs to the football and forex category, got really few friends there.
Then instagram, barely posts few pictures, then tons of tags from renowned photographers from weddings he's attended. Then girls ogling at the comments section, did I mention Quraish is dead ass good looking? Topic for another day.

A person's brand of humor says a lot about that individual. Is it cutting? Is it mean-spirited?

A good-hearted person has a sense of humor that lifts others up and doesn't tear them down; Quraish.

I've see how he treats his driver, restaurant server and the sales clerk with respect and dignity;

I had seen him at the wedding weeks back, almost a glimpse, seen his mom too so I molded into the crowd to avoid awkward situations.
Even though I had met her almost at the time we were leaving, she smiled so sweetly at me, engulfing me into a hug.
I had dropped Noorah and was driving back home when I got Quraish's call, I texted him an 'I'm driving, will call back.'
I was on pins and needles as I buckled off my seatbelt, on the mere thought of talking to him. I called up immediately after freshening up, rang twice, thrice and so on, he didn't pick.
I shrugged even though my inner self wanted to have this conversation. I played the royal wedding for the third time, delving into a bowl of lays.
Viewing the entire event from arrivals to the final carriage procession to wave to celebrators of the marriage who came from near and far, perked my emotions and prompted more than a few teary-eyed moments.
Mama's sharp voice woke me up 8am in the morning.
"Mama it's Sunday." I groaned, pulling the duvet up.
"Wake up girl, you have a visitor, he's been waiting downstairs for the past 20 minutes." She said raising my curtains. My mind stuck on the word 'visitor' and I sat up abruptly.
"Who is it Mama?" I questioned, my voice coming out almost as a shrill. Stupid sleepy voice.
"Go see for yourself, I want you down in a minute." She said walking out.
I mentally groaned, getting out of bed, brushed my teeth and wore my hijab over the pajamas.
Lo and behold! Quraish sat on the couch looking extremely good/smart in a navy blue three piece suit, his eyes fixed onto an iPad's screen. And oh my God, I look ridiculous in a bugs bunny pajama, my mind was telling me to run back to the room and change into something better before he sees me but he's already seen me so I just skimpily walked towards his direction.
"Hey, I'm sorry I came unannounced, woke you up from your beauty sleep." He smiled, a rich/cuter version kind of smile.
"I don't mind, good morning." I replied, "I'll just get you something, maybe tea, coffee? Which?" I added getting up.
"No I'm okay, thanks." He responded, chewing on his bottom lip.
I nodded,
"I got you breakfast." He said passing me paper bags from Dunes continental.
He got me breakfast. He freaking got me breakfast, out of the blues. God. Amazing.
"So thoughtful of you but you didn't have to." I answered timidly. "I appreciate, thanks." I added.
"I went to have their macchiato this morning, and their registry says you're a regular customer, so." He shrugged.
I couldn't help but smile.
"And about yesterday, I had so much work, couldn't pick up your call. I wanted to know if you'll be free in the evening."
"Probably. Why?"
"I'd want to us to acquaint, maybe over dinner? What do you think?" He stated and I nodded in the affirmative.
"So see you at 8?"
*

I am just as nervous as you are. It's easy to say I am overthinking and stuff, and I wouldn't say this is my first time because I've been on several other dates. Do I call it a date? This seems just different. Not like I have best friends to call up and ask for opinions on what to wear; hard isn't it? I've always had issues when it comes to what to wear, I'd sit for not less than 20 minutes debating over what shade of black do I wear. Thank heavens during my LLB in Cambridge, the black and white dress code was strictly enforced almost everyday of the week. I'd just wear a simple T and pants, that was it.
I have no idea why I'm making an effort to actually look good but heck yeah I need to look good, first impressions do matter.
I settled for a grey sheer Abaya lastly, Call me over-enthusiast but I was ready before the scheduled time; 8pm. Disappointment clouded me as I went to get the door, Quraish sent his driver to pick me up. Don't get me wrong, I totally thought he would be picking me up himself but then I smiled at the driver, Thomas (read his name from the name tag) and told him to give me some secs that I would be right back.
I picked a matching Jimmy choo Artie mini hobo white bag and a pointy toe pumps with crystal details, wore them, got my stuff in the bag and headed out.
Honestly I thought I knew all the lunch-inns, cafeterias, coffee houses, taverns etc. around Abuja because I love to eat, to try out new stuff but then I was wrong.
Here I stood in front of a beautiful iconic edifice, I was led into the building with plush pink booths and a small number of tables, it's all candles and dim lighting, it's rammed with classic features and wall to wall paintings. I wondered if Quraish rented the whole inn or there weren't just any customers aside us. Speaking of Quraish, he was seated when I was ushered in, then stood up when he saw me, full of smiles, did I mention how beautiful his smile is?
Scratch that. He looked stubbornly beautiful in a black crisp kaftan, an honest coincidence this is, my earrings matched his kaftan.
My poor heart.

"Hey," I greeted.
"Hey." He responded pulling out a chair for me.
"Thank you." I acknowledged, sitting down
"This is a really beautiful place," I spoke, taking in my surrounding. "Can't believe I never knew of its existence." I added.
"Yeah well, it belongs to my late wife." Quraish said and almost immediately, I noticed a sharp glint of despair flash across his facial expression, which he recovered instantly.
"Oh I'm so sorry."
He said nothing and an awkward silence seethed through the ambiance till a waitress admonished her presence.
"Good evening ma'am, sir. Welcome to OLIVE's, let me tell you about our specials today. Basically people come to OLIVE's for the steak, it's the done thing. But if you're an adventurous vegetarian, then the beetroot and Dorstone goat's cheese with walnut ketchup is sublime. But then, I could just show you the menu." The waitress stated, beaming.

Wow. Steak? Goat's cheese? Not my thing, I'll pass.
I guess Quraish had seen my reaction when he decided to speak for me.
"Julie, get the menu please. There's no need being formal, she's family." He stated
She's family
She's family
She's family.
That resonated quite well in my head, I smiled sheepishly.
I got hold of the menu and ordered rice, lamb curry and chocolate stout mousse to compliment.
"Don't you think there's too much calories in there? I mean health-wise." Quraish put forth into words because I've seen how he's been eyeing my bowl of goodness.
"There isn't a history of diabetes in my family so, I'm good." I declared, sheepishly.
That is lame, totally lame, I thought mentally face palming myself.
"Okay and by the way, what do you think about all this setup? I mean 'Us'. What's your take on arranged marriages?" Quraish asked, Well I was really taken aback with his question.
"Should I be really honest with you?"
"Of course,"
"Best believe marriage is a commitment between two individuals and this is just my own opinion, arranged marriages are about two families, their ego and their desire to dictate the lives of their children who are both ADULTS." I expressed stressing on the last word.
I'm fairly against arranged marriages, but to be honest they are nothing to do with me, and affect me in no way - so my opinion is mostly obsolete. Having stated that, I disagree with most arranged marriages because there is sometimes no choice involved between the two respective parties - it's forceful. Marriage is a union of two people into one unit essentially, so I believe it should be a mutual decision based on the interests and desires of the two involved.
Of course there are some instances where arranged marriages are successful, and the people involved are genuinely happy, but I wonder how many people pretend to be satisfied just to honour their parents/cultural traditions?
If Someone has told me a month ago that I will be sitting with you in this diner as someone referred to me by my mother or brother, I would have shut the door on the person's face because honestly I never saw myself getting into the arranged marriage thingy. I've always believed in finding my soulmate and marrying him but then Men are scum.sure no matter how scum men are, I knew at the end of the day, someone will come by."
I added, Quraish watched me intently, probably trying to be on the same thinking lane as me.

"I'm glad you're being straightforward with me, but then you agreed. Why did you agree to see/court me?"
A tough one.

"I thought about this a lot, and prayed to God for guidance and to help me make the right choices. I don't know why I just decided to give it a shot, maybe because I've seen how Mama's face lit up whenever I talk about you." I shrugged.

"I'm definitely short of words. You talk about me to your mom? Wow. Okay. Do you think we can make this work?" He asked, I swear I can't read what this man is thinking. His face is flustered with different emotions.
Right then, as if on cue his phone rang. The caller has no idea how much he's saved me sometime to think through what Quraish just asked.
He picked up and I watched how he began to panic, he mumbled an "I'll be there" and hung up.

"Is there a problem?" I asked immediately.
"I'm sorry Laila but this is important, I really have to go." He responded standing up and pocketing his phone.
"Oh but if I can help in any way.." I began and he cut me short
"It's Hisham." He said almost breathlessly

"He's got an attack, they say it's serious." He added.

"Okay, you need to calm down, let me come with you."

"Wait, are you sure?"

He didn't look to me like he could concentrate on the road so I took his car keys which were kept on the table.
"I got this."

QURAISH
So where do I start from? It's really hard on the introduction part: hi. My name is q and I'm bipolar.
How I came to know of this? Two weeks ago when I did something so outrageous, so totally inexplicable.
I knew I had taken a wrecking ball to my own life.

As soon as I started winding down from my worst ever record breaking maniac act, a cold depression set in. The flash backs begin, along with a slowly dawning recognition of all that has been destroyed or squandered.
In less than three months,
- spent a hundred and fifty hours on Twitter.
-destroyed an ongoing 2 years contract with V.C. LTD
-liquidated 20% of the company's assets
- hit a woman.
Not actually, I pushed a woman, she fell.

Why did I do it? The last part.
••••••
I watched Laila drive my Nissan Titan XD effortlessly, the car Amma titled 'rugged'. Sure Laila's not having a problem handling it. Honestly didn't know what I was thinking when she offered to drive, she didn't actually offer to drive, she took the keys and I followed suit like some 8-year old. Why I agreed is probably something I'll never know. She definitely has an effect on me, which I don't know about.
Few hours ago, I had argued with Uncle Majeed about some issues pertaining the company. Uncle Majeed is a 45year old brother to Amma and the PR to the company. He was evidently trying to make me see to it that investing additional 20% of the company's assets in the stock exchange market is a big drop to the incoming daily funds. I invested in it anyways.

Insufficient of Market information made me terminate an ongoing contract, due to some Twitter opinions I got. I was going crazy.

A terrible day I had all along, for my mind, to top the craziest things I did was bringing Laila to my late wife's restaurant, I felt weirdly neutral, should I be happy or sad that I'm trying to move on? I felt that was a sick move.

I almost jumped out of the vehicle before it stopped, rushing to the entrance of the hospital. Amma was talking to some group of nurses when I arrived.
"What happened Amma?" I asked immediately
"I'm not sure, he was being tutored by Alina and all of a sudden he was having a hard time breathing, he passed out before I got his inhaler, had to bring him here." She stared breathlessly.
"It's Alright Insha Allah, I'll go hear what the doctors are saying and......."
"Laila, omg is that you?" The fear that was evidently present in Amma's voice when she was talking to me has now vanished into thin air. I watched Laila and Amma hug awkwardly and exchanged pleasantries.
The doctor approached me and we shook hands.
"We need you to go through some formalities, signatures on some papers etc." He said, handing me a folder.
"What for?" I inquired going through the papers.
"Oh yes Quraish, Hisham will be undergoing a surgery, bronchial thermoplasty." Amma walked to us immediately.
"Good Lord Amma, How could you take this decision without informing me? He is just a damn little kid." I spat, frustration clouding my mind.
"Quraish, the surgery is going to reduce the rate he gets an attack."
"Amma, he's already going through much.." I began and was cut short
"Quraish, I think Amma's right. My brother has asthma as well and we went through thesame trauma when the doctor brought up the same surgery, and Alhamdulillah he barely gets attacks." Laila chided in.
I shrugged, fine. I signed the papers and after some minutes, they wheeled Hisham to a different room.
I walked to the mosque and prayed to Allah to grant Hisham back his strength. The moment I got back into the hospital building, the kind of look Amma and Laila gave me made me come to a conclusion that something was definitely wrong.
Amma was crying. I walked towards them with a heavy heart, ready to hear the worst
"Is everything alright?"

"There's been some complications and the surgery is not holding with the consent form being signed." Laila swallowed, I deliberately didn't sign the consent for thinking it wasn't necessary
"Fine. The surgery shouldn't hold then, I have a bad feeling about this." I retorted, running my hand through my hair.
"Quraish, I've already signed the consent form." Laila spoke and I paused.
"Wait you what?" I asked, not sure if I heard her right.
I took a fast stride towards her, nothing but anger seething through me.
"How dare you? What the actual hell?Who are you to decide what I do with my family?." I spat with an increasing heart rate, not knowing what I was thinking, I pushed Laila and I watched as she staggered to the floor in a disheveled heap as her grip poured out in a flood of uncontrollable tears.
Amma watched me with shock and ran towards Laila, she waved Amma away and stood up, walking away. I could never forget the way the she looked at me.
I felt hot and flushed immediately, what have I done?