HR
FreeFreeDescription
After I finished the phone call with her, my mood became terrible. It was then I thanked God that I hadn’t deleted his number from my phone. I called him twice but he didn’t pick up, so I sent him some very harsh messages and switched off my phone.
I knew he would see them in the morning even if he had already gone to bed, and that alone eased the pain I was feeling a little, enough for sleep to finally take me that night.
I had barely closed my eyes when my phone rang. I picked it up, thinking it was him calling after seeing my message, but it wasn’t the same number.
I answered, humming, and said I could hear him—since they say that’s how you answer calls from unknown numbers. Then I heard Yusuf’s voice and said, “Brother, is that you? I thought it was someone else.”
He said yes, joking that the fever still hadn’t left him. I laughed and said I had poured hot water on myself. He said, “Good.” Then he said he called because “your man” had taken my number from his phone, and he knew he might call me. He begged me not to follow his bad behavior, because he didn’t know what he might say to me. He said the man claimed he would call me about Hajiya Mama.
I interrupted him and said, “He already called me, and we even argued. He thinks everyone is always looking for something from him. I completely washed my hands of him.”
I heard Yusuf say strongly, “Please.” I told him I had told the man everything—even the harsh text I sent. Yusuf said, “Honestly, you didn’t do well.”
I asked, “Why would he provoke me?”
He said, “Khadija, you know you’re the one we want to use as our weapon against that wicked man in the future. Please soften your tongue when dealing with him.”
I said, “What concern is he of mine that I should become your weapon against him and his wickedness?”
He laughed and said, “You, Khadija—you have everything needed to fight his wickedness, because you deserve to do so.”
I said, “Brother…” He replied, “It’s true. I love you. When we meet, I’ll explain everything so you’ll understand.”
I said, “Alright, since you said so.” He replied, “It’s not just my idea; I was instructed to do so.”
He said we’d talk more when we met. I prayed God would make it possible. We said goodbye, leaving me with a heap of thoughts in my heart.
In the morning, it was Zarah knocking on my door. I got up and opened it. She stood there, wanting to enter, so I made space and she came in.
She asked if I was going out that morning. I said yes—I was getting ready so I wouldn’t be late. She said she wanted to go out with me because someone would bring her a message and she wanted me to receive it.
I asked where she was going so early. She clicked her tongue lightly and said yes, one of her friends was traveling and she wanted to go say goodbye.
I said, “Zarah, won’t you bathe, pray, and sit to eat what our parents provided for us? This lifestyle you’ve chosen won’t benefit you in the future.”
She smiled slightly and went to where I had kept the food. She opened the pot, laughed, and said, “They told you you don’t know how to be smart, right? Everyone is like that now—if they see you, they think you’re not clever.”
I replied, “If that’s the kind of cleverness, may God never guide me to it. I seek God’s way against such behavior of yours. May God guide you to the truth.”
She scooped food onto her plate and began to eat while I continued getting ready. I told her to finish quickly so I wouldn’t be late.
Smiling with food in her mouth, she said, “Where did you get this behavior from? Education—where will it take you? Only you, Khadija.”
“Look at you,” she continued. “You’re your own capital, yet you’re stressing yourself, cooking since morning like a married woman, all because of stubborn education.”
She swore that if I agreed, she could connect me with someone in two days and I’d be comfortable. “Don’t take lessons from me, Khady—am I not enjoying life?”
She added that now that the road was open for her, she couldn’t imagine life without it, while I had something that could bring money but was hiding it. She laughed mockingly.
I stood there, shocked by her words and satanic preaching. Even the quiet of my room was broken by her advice as I stared at her.
She said she wanted me to understand that life had changed and I should just seize the opportunity.
I smiled and said, “Zarah, you don’t understand me. My life philosophy is different from yours. I don’t fill my heart with greed or the desire for pleasure at all costs. Don’t think your short sermon will affect me. I have dignity and I know my limits and my parents’. The small paths you follow won’t mislead me.”
“Enjoyment has its time,” I continued. “When it comes, I will enjoy it—but not through the recklessness you practice. If you listened to advice, you’d abandon this life and embrace what brought you to Abuja. Even the men you follow are benefiting from education. I’m not saying I won’t live or love—but when I do, it will be cleanly and responsibly.”
She laughed, used to my advice, thinking I still didn’t understand life.
I said, “Laugh all you want, but when I choose a path, it won’t be these small destructive ways.”
She stood up after eating, said such men were hard to find nowadays and that I’d struggle searching for them. I replied that time would tell. She handed me her key and said she was going out again.
She left, and we parted ways on the street—she looking for a lift, me heading to school, amazed at the life she had chosen.
She was from Minna like me, which was how we became close, though we lived in different areas. She was once well-behaved before Abuja men opened her eyes.
Despite everything, we never stopped caring for each other, though I never accepted food from her questionable lifestyle.
---
(The narration continues with events involving Samad, Yusuf, Nafisa, the harsh text message, rising conflict, violence, and Khadija’s later encounter in the car, ending with Yusuf arriving and seeing the situation.)
