I See Fire

21 | High BP

The most annoying alarm attacked Hajiya Waleeda's ear drums this morning. She didn't know she'd overslept. Her first phone buzzed beside it and her second phone rang too—incessantly to the point she had to drag the blanket over her head. She didn't know which to attend to first.

She closes her eyes and snuggled into her blanket, breathed out and sat up. She weakly pushes the blanket off her body and discards it halfway across the bed. Her first steps are threatening to send her back to sleep but she fights the fatigue and stops to snooze the alarm before looking down at both phones, tapping on the screen to see the missed call notification that would show the caller.

The first was her new salesgirl Ope and the second was from a customer who she'd discussed delivery to her house on kitchenware for that day. Both people, she knew, were calling to inquire about the same thing. Ope, would be asking for address and the lady would be asking when it would arrive. Knowing Nigerian delivery men, she would have to see it latest by 04:00pm but why would she tell her that?

She turns to the bathroom and enters without locking the door since she was alone. She thumbs the top of the tap and she curves her palm together to gather some and pour in her face.

She repeats the process again before opening the cabinet for her toothbrush and oozes some toothpaste onto it. Her phone rings again and she stops but continues again instead of rushing to check who it was as she intended. This was her holiday and she was going to do things at her own time.

She took her time to perform ablution and walked out, closing the door behind her. She had no intention of bathing if she wasn't going anywhere today.

"Why do I do this?" She asked herself as she sprayed the praying mat on the floor and grabbed the hijab from her wardrobe. "I'll wake up late and forget I'm supposed to pray."

She blamed it on her old age but she wasn't that old to begin with. She just always found it hard to pray on time and her workaholic attitudes didn't help much with her predicament.

She wore the hijab and raised her hand for iqamah. Two raka'ats and a thousand zikr' later, she was done and back in bed ordering for a late breakfast that was looking to be brunch too as she sighted the clock at 11:25am.

*ding *ding

Room service had brought her food just as she was calling her client but the woman doesn't answer so she opens the door and him take the cart in.

"Good morning ma'am."

"Good morning." She nodded as he exited the room for her to lock it.

Oof! She sat on the bed with the cart edging close to where she sat. She was using the cart as a table as she was too lazy to move to the table.

Mrs Hashim flashes on her screen and she drops the cup of tea she'd began to stir.

"Madam! Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon..." she tuned out what she was saying as she already knew what the call was going to be about. She dropped the phone and put it on speaker as she buttered her toast.

"It'll he sent by 02:00pm, don't worry about it. My salesgirl is on it."

"Thank you ma."

"Have a nice day."

She didn't hang up. She just took a bite of her bread and sipped some tea. Instead of calling she quickly sends a text to Ope with the address and time that it should be delivered.

Soon she was done with breakfast and called for it to be taken. As she knew she'd be having lunch late, she wondered what she'd be doing for the rest of the day. The previous week she'd gone to the beach, tasted different kinds of food and visited a friend she made online who was also her agent.