TRIALS (Completed)

Twenty-six

Meena's hands shook as she tried to put the blue thread through the needle's eye. She had been at it for over ten minutes. Which was surprising for this was the very thing that got her into sewing in the first place. 

She let out a loud hiss and sat up. What was up with her today? It definitely couldn't be her first meeting with Architect Badr Damilare Abdulqadir, which was two hours away, because if it was, she wouldn't have been able to come to work. She could've stayed at home and helped her mother prepare. But funny enough, there wasn't much to prepare as it was a low-key meeting, no representatives involved. Just the two families. 

And she wasn't nervous at all. Just neutral. In fact, everyone was, except her mother of course, who had been smiling non-stop, even when Bushra almost broke her favorite glass set–reserved for guests only–she didn't complain. 

Meena sighed again and straightened the fabric in front of her. She wanted to be excited; she wanted to be enthusiastic. At least, based on the many wonderful things she had seen of the Architect on social media: from his humanitarian gesture of building an Islamiyah in his village, to sponsoring five children among his relatives to school. Meena admired generous men, like her father. But it wasn't just generosity that drew her to Nur, it was something else, something deep, she couldn't explain it even if she tried to. She just hoped the Architect had it too, at least, enough for her to forget Nur. 

Thirty minutes later, after finally putting the thread in the needle and sewing a skirt out of the fabric. Meena and Bushra closed an hour before the usual time. On their way out of the busy market, pushing past other customers, avoiding collision with motorcycles and getting splashed with the various sizes of water puddles on the sandy floor, Bushra asked her, "Aunty Meena?" 

"Hmm? "

" Is it true that one man is coming to visit?"

Meena frowned, "Why are you asking, shebi Ummi already told you?”

" Eh but, she didn't tell us why he was coming."

"Ehe, so no need to tell you then." Meena shrugged, then shook her head at a boy who was wagging a handful of colorful bathing sponges in her face. 

"Ah, but it's not good o. Shebi we're also women?"

Meena guffawed. She tapped Bushra's shoulder. "You and who?" 

Bushra refused to look at her, "We're sha not children."

They arrived at the junction. There were two white buses offloading passengers. Meena headed for the second bus which had more free space. As she was about to enter, the conductor said in a loud voice, "Alhaja, hold your change o." 

Meena replied, "E ma worry, I have N100 with me." As she settled beside a dozing woman in the second row, followed by Bushra, the conductor peeked inside, his watery eyes bulging against his sweat streaked forehead. "

" Ah no, na 150 you go pay o." 
Meena gaped at him,  "As in how, na just two of us na. And na for gate you go drop us. 

" No matter o. Fuel don cost." 

The man in front of Meena piped in, "Ah ah, conductor, for this small girl?" 

"Which kain, see as she round like spare tyre. She don take two seats o."

Meena felt Bushra freeze. She knew how insecure her younger sister felt about her size. Squeezing her hand in reassurance, Meena glared at the conductor, who had gone out to call other passengers. She tugged at Bushra's hand, "let's go."

"Ah, why?" 

Meena stares down at her. "I have only N150 to give him. Besides, our money is N100.

"No p, I have 50 naira." Bushra tapped the pocket of her skirt.