BEFORE THIRTY Episode 20

 BEFORE THIRTY

Episode 20:

Both of them look so happy such that gaping at them leave me speechless, wondering what kind of relationship thev’ve shared in the past. 

“Brother Luqman tell me why you are here please or Is it what I’m thinking?” Zulaykhah says shuttling her eyes between us. Just then, Naheemah comes to the living room when she heard Zulaykhah’s voice.

“What’s going on here? I hope everything is fine? It was your voice that brings me out,” Naheemah narrows her eyes at her.

“Zulaykhah is like a younger sister. She’s a sister to a friend I met in the university.”

“Which of her brothers because I didn’t see any of them when you came visiting my family.” I state.

“Fareedah, it’s brother Zubair. The one in Saudi Arabia. There was no way he could come since he’s abroad. So, this means my friend is the woman who stole your heart this time. Right?”

“Yes. And I will choose her over and over again,” he grins. I and Naheemah watch with amusement. Who would have thought the two know each other. Now, my heart palpitates as I don’t know what she will say about him. Despite the fact I have started having feelings for him, I am sceptical about everything about him that seems so close to perfection. I hope she says good about him because I don’t think I can bear the opposite.

Just then, Zulaykhah gives me a hug with a teardrop, caressing my cheeks. 

“Truly, delay isn’t denial. I know I have wronged you but trust me, I always want the best for you because you are such an endearing soul. I am happy the one you are settling for is not different from your kind of personality. Infact, it worth the wait. Honestly, I am surprised seeing him here. Brother Luqman is a very good friend of my brother. When I got admission into thr college of education in ilorin, he along with my brother was there fo me to hasten up the process of my registration. I couldn’t help but marvel at his simplicity and generosity. I also remember how he helped me with some materials needed for my studies. There was a day I took my friends to their hostel, he was the one that prepared lunch for us that day; those friends of mine started crushing on him. I call him ègbọ́n (elder brother). He is very nice and accommodating. I felt sorry when I heard sister Hamdalah married someone else in the diaspora while he was here waiting for her return. I was hopeful he’ll meet a kind hearted person like him and now that I can see the bold hand writing on the wall my heart is at peace. Big brother, your net caught a priceless gem this time. Despite the fact that Fareedah is a childhood friend, she remains my role model. You know I fumble sometimes and then your friend would scold me while you would come in to settle it amicably. Now, my Fareedah is just like you in this regard; she’s always ready for my drama queen display,” she grins at me, puling my cheeks.

“So, you know you act like a drama queen. Anyway, thanks for the commendations. I’m glad to hear brother Luqman is real and genuine. Now we know not everyone exhibiting niceness is acting too good to be true,” Naheemah cuts in, looking at me.

“Out of all I said, it’s only the drama queen that you heard. Your matter is not here.”

“And didn’t you hear when I thanked you for the commendations? You and this your big head.”

“Fareedah, warn her ooo,” she rolls her eyes while I can’t help but cough slightly. I look towards Luqman’s way, he is obviously smiling and watching the drama as it unfold. 

“Zulaykhah, you did well today but that doesn’t mean we have settled our differences. Fareedah might have forgotten but I won’t until I tell you my mind. Come here, we need to talk,” she offers her hand for her to stand on her feet and they both left for the bedroom.

I shake my head looking at them. These two crack me up whenever I am bored. What are friends for? After everything Zulaykhah said about Luqman, I silently prayed for her. She has really lightened my mood the more. Life is indeed of place of learning. The one who hurt you today can make you smile tomorrow. I wasn’t even ready to fill her in, concerning my relationship with him but then, I never knew they know each other. Through this journey of mine, I have learnt a lot. I left for Lagos because of what happened between Zulaykhah and myself. The comment I made on the post that connected me and Luqman together was out of my emotional state because I hardly leave comment on public posts. Through this medium, I met the one I have been waiting for. And this same friend testified to his good character. Truly, a leaf will never drop without the knowledge of Allah. Henceforth, whenever a displeasing trail befalls on me, I won’t cry nor wail but ask Allah for the best out of it. I hear the sound of his snapping fingers and gets out of my truck of thoughts. 

“Is everything okay? You seem lost.”

“I’m fine. Just thinking about my life.”

“And did you think of me too? I’m part of your life now, right?” he smiles while I nod.

“I am spirit enliven to have you and my friends. Ain’t they funny? I wonder when they will stop their cat and dog fights. ”

“But you all look good together. They fight this minute and laugh the next, while you are the referee among them. I like that. This reminds me of your friend’s brother, Zubair. He is a no nonsense man, full of policies and believed everyone must be like him along the line, our friendship was turning to that of an inseparable brothers. One day, he asked why we are still friends despite his strictness. I told him it was easy because we have different characters. If I were to be like him, we would have ended things a long time ago because two heads can’t direct the affairs of the home. And most times, he is quick to make apologies whenever he realises he is going overboard. You see this man in front of you doesn’t get angry easily but once he does, he takes it to the extreme. So, when that happens and he apologises, I will call myself back. The truth is no one is perfect and we can’t live alone. There is a Yoruba adage that says: A tree can’t make a forest. Bottom line, when we step on each other’s toes the ideal is to apologise while the other party should also let go. I can see the happiness that radiates on your face while listening to your friend sing my praises. Well, I won’t say she was exaggerating but I know I am no saint..”

“Hmmmmm..... Yes I am glad to hear that. I don’t think I will be able to bear it if she had said otherwise.”

“Just the way I won’t be able to bear it if you leave me. Fareedah, if you find any of my behaviors sullen, call me to order. I will try my best to make amendment. I might appear strong, physically but my heart is fragile.”

“In sha Allah, nothing of such will happen. I am hopeful we are meant to be.”

“I pray so. My dreams at the moment is to be your husband. I can’t wait any longer.” 

“May Allah spare our lives beyond then. Eat your food before it gets cold.” I entwine my fingers. 

“Not until you find something to eat,” he chuckles.

“Alright then. I will go do that now. Do let me know when you are done.” I say while he nods. 

When he is done eating, he sends a message to that effect. I inform my friends, leaving their company to join him in the living room. I take the tray to the kitchen and do the dishes before returning to him.

He announces his leave, seeking for the presence of my friends. I call for both of them and they join us.

“Egbon, It’s late already. Don’t tell me you are returning to Lagos today,” Zulaykhah asks as we all head out to see him off.

“No, I am not. I will pass the night at a friend’s family’s house. We met while serving in the east. I have contacted him and he has given me his father’s approval. This won’t be first time of meeting his family, they are full of hospitality. ”

“You’ve been coming to Ibadan and you didn’t check on me. It’s unfair, bro,” she pouts reclining on his car. 

“Zul zuly, it’s not like that. I.... ” he is saying when his phone rings out.

“Oh, It’s Ahmad. The friend I am talking about,” he picks the call. He is still on the call when he walk few distance away from us but he’s adible enough to hear.. 

“Wow, I like that name Zuly. It’s suits you well since you behave childish sometimes. I would have argued you have two kids if I wasn’t close you,” Naheemah taunts her again, smirking at her.

“Fareedah, warn her before I start my own. It’s also hard to believe you also have two children. Infact, your husband is trying for tolerating a sassy person like you. Ishh,” she sticks her tongue out, acting like a clown.

“Why don’t you just present my husband an honorary award to motivate him,” she hisses, taping the back of her head. Zulaykhah raises hand to tap her when I cut in.

“Both of you should behave now. Can’t you see we have a guest?”

“What guest? Brother Luqman is no longer a guest. He will soon join our family. And didn’t you hear this drama queen when she said whenever brother Zubair scolded her, her big brother Luqman intervenes? But Zulaykhah, I missed this part of us. It’s fun teasing you,” she grins, patting her shoulder.

“Yes, I do too. AlhamduliLlah, we are back to our usual way of relating. I’m always grateful for having you two in my life. May we be sisters till jannah, in sha Allah,” she rounds up with prayer while I and Naheemah reply with a resounding aameen. 

Luqman finally joins us when he’s done with the call. He says tesleem to which we reply. 

“Should I be expecting you tomorrow in my house?” Zulaykhah asks with a pleading face while he pouts.

“You need to get approval from your spouse first.”

“Of course. I’ll surely do and give you a call afterwards. My family will be happy to receive you because I do talk about you and bro Zubair whenever I share my college experiences with them.”

“It’s a deal, then. Will be expecting your call. Ehm, Fareedah, can I come pick you off, so we could go there together?”

“Tomorrow? Ah, no. I have a lot on my plate. I’ll rest and prepare against Monday’s work. Next time, in sha Allah. ”

He nods slowly though with a gloomy aura. And I’m happy he didn’t press further. I am certain Zulaykhah understands me well. Her house isn’t somewhere I wish to near at least, not now. He promises to check on me tomorrow before returning to Lagos. 

The following day, he fulfils his promise. He is just returning from my friend’s house. He is happy he did as everyone was glad to have him around. He phones his mother in my presence, telling her he’s with me. She implores him to give me the one and we have a lengthy discussion... When I am done talking to her, he phones my mum too to greet her.  Maami, sounds so happy on the phone to know he’s in Ibadan. We converse briefly before he bidding goodbye. 

-----------&&--------

Today is Monday. It’s been a while since I say prayers in the masjid. I decide to go there to enjoy the bliss and the tranquility that oozes from it. After the congregational zhur prayers, I wait to enjoy the brief reminder from Fawzaan. He admonishes us on rights of neighbours. I marvel at the way he sermonizes like an elderly person full of wisdom with a persuasive tone. The part he mentions sharing food among our neighbours most especially the one with a nice aroma swirling around, it feels as if I’ve never heard of it before. I make a mental note of following suit afterwards. May Allah make it easy and grant us the ability to be His obedient servants. 

I leave the masjid for office when my mind suddenly goes to the weird behavior he was exuding on Saturday and couple with the fact we haven’t seen today.  I endeavor to wait for him. Few minutes later, I turn, looking towards the men’s entrance. Then I see him back facing me, returning inside. Is he trying to avoid me or what? My heart throb against my chest. I don’t think it’s good to start over thinking. He might have forgotten his belonging inside. I start going. Getting to the company, I turn back again but didn’t see any signs of him. I shrug, going inside.

The following day, I am done receiving Luqman’s call when bank alert comes in. I check to find it’s from Fawzaan. He sent the remaining part of the debt. How did he even get hold of my bank account details? Isn’t this weird? He brought the first part here and forwarded the other to my account. No problem. I won’t say anything to him concerning this except he brings it up. 

On way my home, I see him at the gate. He greets me without asking me about the money while I feign ignorance too. 

Two days after, which is a Thursday. He sent a message to my WhatsApp. It is the proof of payment. He implores me to confirm the payment of which I did. 

As time goes by, everything goes back to normal between us. Perhaps, he has been able to solve the problems which was affecting him. 

A day or night will not pass without talking on the phone with Luqman. After his visit to check on me in Ibadan, he did again twice, during weekends.  

Hours turn into days and days into weeks. The introduction ceremony between our families is taken place this Saturday. I take a day off from work on Friday informing everyone about the ceremony. The Thursday preceding that Friday, I bump into Fawzaan and tell him too. 

“Oh, BarakaLlahu feekuma. Is it that same brother who came here some weeks ago?”

“Yes he is.”

“May Allah’s blessings be upon it.” he prays, walking away.

As he is leaving, I remember Naheemah told me she would to love buy chicken and chips for her children, prompting me to engage him.

“Fawzaan.”

He stops but didn’t look back. I walk to him to find his eyes watered already. Did I just see his hand goes to his eyes as if he’s wiping something or it’s my imagination?

“Are you okay?” I ask while he nods.

“Actually, my friend needs chicken and chips for her children. She will buy on Sunday evening and take it home on Monday morning. Do you do home delivery?”

“No, I don’t; for now. But I will request Abd’ Salam deliver it. All I need is your address.”

“Alright, thanks. Sorry for the inconvenience. The thing is she is having and it’s possible she gets home late. Don’t you think you should start doing home delivery? That will be another package fetching more income.” I suggest. While expecting responses, he does the opposite as he only nods, leaving my presence.

“Fawzaan, are you sure you are fine?”

“Even if I’m not, I have no power to change anything. Not all dreams get fulfilled in life but I believe if the dream seems unachievable but has been destined to come to pass, it will surely be. But if it isn’t in ones fate, the best is to accept in faith. I believe Allah Has knowledge over all things. Fareedah, we will surely miss you. And know that no matter what happens, I will never forget all you’ve done in my life. Thank you for being part of my success story.... Concerning the home delivery package, I’ll work on it, in sha Allah,” he leaves.

For a moment, I am awestruck. I open my mouth to talk but my tongue is stuck. I swallow the lump in my throat. What could the dream possibly be? I wish he could tell me. Why was he talking in parables? And why do I feel he is bidding farewells? I am getting engaged not leaving the country. Fawzaan, if only I could read your mind. I still can’t place a finger on the reason why I feel heartbroken seeing you being emotional. If there’s goodness in those dreams of yours, I pray they come true, Aameen. 

The following day, I leave for Lagos very early in the morning. My journey lasted three hours. The feeling of being home is surreal. My brothers are back home. I’ve missed them so much. No sooner has our house full to the brim. Nice aroma swirling around alongside bubblings here and there. 

If I were invited as a guest, I would have argued the ceremony is that of marriage. My uncles wives and aunts from both parents side are present already to have our back. Obviously, everyone has been itching to see Fareedah gets married and can’t wait to catch a glimpse of the one she’s planning a future with. 

My aunts call me to dish out some pieces of advice. I patiently sit beside them not until they start saying some matured talks that sounds yucky to my ears. 

“I am not getting married tomorrow. It’s just an introduction ceremony nothing more.” I pout.

“It doesn’t matter. We are teaching you in advance. Fareedah, you are not a teenager. Don’t tell me you are still an vir...” she is saying when I interrupt her.

“I have migrated from teenage life doesn’t mean I should start fooling around. Chastity isn’t meant for youngsters alone but everyone including the married ones. One of the reasons why some have issues in their marriage is because they’ve tasted different sizes. Hence, comparison sets in. The ideal is to steer clear of any disparaging and illicit behaviours.”

“Tooorrr...  But once the families meet, you are entitled to each other. The wedding ceremony is just formalities.” another aunt chip in.

“Not at all ma. Except aqd ( solemnization) takes place today. But devoid of that, we have no rights whatsoever to share any intimacy.”

“Hmmm..... And you think this is possible In this modern age?” the third one comments.

“Sure. If It’s possible and achievable for people despite the trials that come with it, everyone should follow suit. There is no pleasure in disobedience to Allah. May Allah help us all and make us His obedient servants.”

“May Allah bless you my dear. I am always proud of you anywhere. If people starts bedding all in the name of dating. How many people will they be intimate with? You proposed marriage doesn’t mean we will enventually get married,” my fourth aunt contributes.

Around 6: 00 pm, Luqman phones me that his parents, siblings and few family members just arrive from the north. He sounds so happy on the phone. We both can’t wait for tomorrow to come. 

Finally, the anticipating Saturday is here. A loud cheer accompany Luqman and his family’s arrival. Greetings and pleasantries fill the air. His mum alongside the women in their family come inside to greet me. I am a bit shy at first but the warmth that encompasses with his mother’s hug makes my heart at rest. She is such a beautiful woman. Luqman’s only sister is also looking ravishing. I guess the other two women are related to his father as I can’t see they share semblance with his mum. 

Everyone was in seat already except my oldest uncle who is standing as my waliyy. He says he was held up in traffic but will join us soon. 

Author’s POV.

When he eventually arrives, Luqman’s mother squint her eyes properly at him, dissecting if he’s the one or not. 

“Brother Tahir,” she gapes at him.

“Ma.” 

Everyone is curious including Luqman who adjusts his sitting position. His mother knows Fareedah’s uncle? How come?

“I’m sorry ma, have met before?”

“Yes we have. Don’t tell me you have forgotten my face. Baseerah the daughter of the tuwo seller in front of the house you lived in Ijora; Alhaji Lawal’s house.”

Uncle Tahir stare at her for a moment trying to remember. The name resonates but it’s been donkey years since she last saw her. 

“Yes, I remember Baseerah the only daughter of the tuwo seller. Is this you?”

“Yes, I am. How come I can’t find brother Hamzah. Where is he?”

Uncle Tahir heaves a long sigh before responding. 

“What do I say? My brother is no more. Wait a minute, how are you related to Luqman? ”

“He’s my son. You mean brother Hamzah is dead. Ina Llilahi wa Ina Ilayhi Rājiun,” she says with a teary eyes.

“We can’t question Allah’s will. If he were to be alive today, he would have been the one to decide the wedding date as the bride’s father. May Allah grant him Jannah. ”

“Aameen.” everyone says in unison. 

“You mean, Fareedah, my prospective daughter inlaw is Hamzah’s daughter. ”

“Yes, he is.”

“LāiLlaha Illa Allah. Muhammad Rasululahi..” she squeals, clutch tighting her head. She looks towards her son’s direction. He is equally disturb just as everyone is.

“Son, I know what you are capable of but please I need to ask this in front of everyone...... I hope nothing intimate had happened between you Fareedah?”

“Mum, what kind of question is this? You know me right? Why are saying all these?”

“I’m sorry son.”