She plucked the phone off her ears and stared at the screen. It was a new number. The soft voice, she could recognise anywhere but it had been a while since they spoke last. The last time they communicated was two months after she arrived in Lagos and it was on a number she had stored in her contacts. But that phone number had been unreachable since then.
“Yasmin, is that you?” The voice asked again, uncertain.
“Shafa?”
“Oh, Alhamdulillah.”
Yasmin could relief in her voice.
“I have been on this for like an hour. I have tried more than ten numbers and was about to give up.”
Yasmin didn’t want to say that because she wasn’t sure she understood what the other lady was talking about but all the same, she was about to say long time but Shafa beat her to it.
“Kwana biyu Yasmin, it’s been ages.” Yasmin smiled and was about to voice her agreement but the former continued.
“I'm so sorry I'd not called all this while. My family were getting suspicious that I knew about your whereabouts. I later lost my phone and my only contact backup was on my old raka ni kashi. It didn’t even bring out the names, so I had to call each number I suspected could be yours. This is number thirteen or fourteen.”
“Oh. I was worried and was wondering why your number was no longer reachable.” Yasmin was finally able to say.
“I'm so sorry. I thought you would be worried too but retrieving the old is proving difficult, so I had to buy a new one.”
Shafa further supplied and it gripped Yasmin's heart in a way that made her feel guilty. After months of not hearing from her and being able to contact her, Yasmin concluded her childhood friend had abandoned her.
“Haba Shafa, it’s not your fault. I should have thought as much. How have you been kawa?”
“Alhamdulillah, I'm doing okay...” She paused before asking her friend the same thing.
...Hope Lagos is treating you well?”
“Fine, fine. Alhamdulillah. I can't complain. Komai lafiya kuwa, I noticed you haven’t been online too. Guess it’s because of the phone?”
“Yes, that and...” She paused again and Yasmin wondered if there was something else. Her usually cheerful voice lacked excitement.
“I'm getting married.”
She finally said. Yasmin wondered if she should offer her congratulations but from the tone of her voice she didn’t seem happy about it or maybe it was just cold feet. She did offer congratulations all the same.
“That’s great news dear. Now I feel like a bad friend. I should be with you and assist with preparations.”
“Yes, I wished you were here with me but I completely understand your situation...” Shafa paused and Yasmin could hear some sniffing in the background
“Are you crying? Is everything alright?”
Yasmin didn’t know what else to say. She did feel like a bad friend. Shafa'atu had been with her through thick and thin, she too had also been there for her. But it was now the most important period of her friend's life and she wasn't there to share it with her.
“Oh Shafa, I'm so sorry. I should be there with you...” And before she knew it, she was already getting teary.
“...I feel so bad.”
“No, please don’t. I completely understand. If things were different, of course I know you would be here. Don't worry about me. I'm just overwhelmed by the whole thing.”
Yasmin sniffed, wiping away the tears from her cheeks.
“Is this what you want?”
Yasmin blurted out before she could stop herself. Of course, it was what Shafa wanted. She had always sung about how she wanted to marry early and raise her children early. She constantly talked about how she admired those women who already had grown children at such a young age. She wanted that for herself. Yasmin was surprised that as they turned eighteen, Shafa still had not mentioned wedding plans. She wasn't picky and was very open to an arranged marriage.
“Are you happy?” Yasmin rephrased, hoping the question didn’t sound worse than the previous one.
“I am, Yasmin. He's kind, religious and hardworking. Then she chuckled. “He's good looking too and funny and lives comfortable.”
Yasmin giggled. “Then you got more than you bargained for.
“Gaskiya kawa. Alhamdulillah.”
“Allah ya sanya alkhairi.”
“Aamin Aamin. Thank you bestie. Allah ya kawo na ki, ranan, musha biki. I can't wait for yours too.
Yasmin smiled as a face came crossed her mind and she quickly tuck it away. Thank God for the colour of her skin, her embarrassment and shyness would have been obvious to anyone close by. And if they were together, Shafa would prod her until she spilt.
“Aamin Shafa. We should keep in touch.”
“Of course but let me be the one to do the calling. You can send me messages on WhatsApp.”
“Alright, dear. Ba matsala. That should do.
“Toh, sai an jima. Take care of yourself.”
“You too dear. I will chat you up. Bye”
And the call ended. Yasmin heaved a sigh of relief. It was good to hear from home again. If there was anything she needed to know, her friend would inform her at least until she moves to where her husband lives after the marriage. Normally she would ask questions about the identity of her friend's fiancée. They were that close. This time, it felt like intrusion and it was best to mind her own business.
Taking her mind off her friend and her upcoming wedding, she dived right back into her reading. She had only read a few lines when a soft knock came on the door. At first, she dismissed it because it didn’t seem like a real knock until she had more raps on the door. It was too early for Lisa to be back she thought.
Distractions Distractions She moaned as she got up from the cushion.
“Who is it?” She called out as she made for the door. Then she peep through the door viewer even before the person could answer. And her heart stopped. Or maybe it just slowed down for just a tiny second before it started hammering against her ribcage.
And she began to rummage her brain for what to do.
Should she just pretend as if no one was home or act as if she was Lisa and indisposed to say hi or...
"Hello Yasmin, it's Damola."
Oh my...he heard me. She thought as she worried about how best to face him.
...to be continued.
Comments
Post a Comment