Forbidden Passion: 7

Asibi rang a number as soon as she exited the building that harboured many offices including the company she worked for. She walked down to the thatched shed that housed a few plastic chairs a few feet away from the building. It used to belong to a telecommunication company that used to be in that building before they moved out but now it was just a relaxation spot for anyone that happened to be in that area. The person on the other end picked after the second ring. 

“Babes I’m sorry, I just finished with a customer. I thought I would get something to eat before calling.” 

Asibi could have taunted her for her large appetite if she had been in a better mood but today was not one of those days. 

“Ayesha...” 

She started, her voice was shaky and her legs were trembling. She had been standing under the shed but now she grabbed a chair and sat on it. 

“I’m done for Esh. I’m holding my sack letter.”

 Her eyes burned with unshed tears, any word of sympathy now from her friend and they would break free. 

“Hmmm...you sure say so no be your village people dey follow you up and down like this?” 

The words would have caught someone else off guard but not her. Who even says such words to someone, at their breaking point, someone in obvious need of comfort. Any kind words at this moment would do but that was not what Asibi needed and Ayesha knew that. 

“I should laugh at that, but my sorry state won’t let me, marar kunya.”

 

“But seriously, don’t think much about it. It’s their loss. Something better will come InshaAllah.” 

She wanted to say an amen to that prayer but she didn’t know if she believed that anymore. Hope had kept her alive through the loss of two jobs and this was the third. And now to hear her friend tell her not to brood over it sounded like some joke. Was she really serious or was she just trying to be a nice friend like always? She and Ayesha had been friends for like forever and she didn’t even think ‘friend’ was the befitting word to describe Ayesha with anymore. ‘Sister’ would be a more appropriate word. 

“You know you can join me at the studio. The door is always open to you and we could do with your great marketing skills and business consultation.” 

Asibi nodded even though she knew her friend couldn’t see her

“I know.” 

“And the pay is great. You know most of our clients are big shots in and outside Abuja.” Asibi laughed in spite of her pitiable condition she was happy for her friend. Ayesha had started Prime looks from their one room apartment in Kubwa, Abuja. She used to go round the neighbourhood, telling anyone who cared to listen that she was a make-up artist and hairdresser. At first, things were slow, very few people came to her and she had to do the job at a very cheap price. Sometimes she even did it for free so as to attract more customers. At the same time she kept honing her skills. When photo sharing app Instagram became popular in the country, Ayesha was able to showcase her works on it too in addition to the already available popular ones and she became a sensation. 

She was later able to get her own space at Jabi and after then an even bigger space in the same area to include photography in her list of services. With this Ayesha had been able to employ eight people including two photographers. Asibi thought if she were to define a proper Boss lady then Ayesha would be it. She was a very independent woman and a very direct opposite of her who was working for others and always struggling to keep a job. Like that’s the only thing you have failed at keeping. The tiny voice in her head mocked her. 

“Sorry babes, I need to go. The worms in my stomach won’t let me be. We will talk at home. Later. Bye!” 

“Alright. Bye.”

And she ended the call. She too needed to get something to eat. She was having the gnawing feeling that was not only as a result of her state but hunger. She also didn’t think she had the strength to prepare anything when she got home. 

Asibi got out of the shed and took one last look at the eight storey building that housed her former workplace. This might be the last time she would see it as she rarely visited this part of Abuja. It had only been nineteen months ago when she had been so excited by the prospects of working with this luxurious textile company, Tufafi limited. One of the best in the country. Today, it was just another failed company trying to get back its past glory and one of the steps they had taken in order to achieve that had cost several employees including Asibi their jobs. 

She took this final look before heading in the opposite direction. The road facing the building led to one of her favourite restaurant.  She would board a cab to it and order two of their best dishes. She would eat one there and asked that the other one be packed for her to take home. Life is short. I can’t come and kill myself. She thought as she waved down a taxi.

...To be continued.