Our Friendship

16

Ayatullah was seated quietly in his room, engrossed in reading some documents. As he had a class scheduled for tomorrow, researching the day before his lecture had become a part of his routine. He did this to ensure that his students wouldn't ask him questions he couldn't answer.

His phone rang, and seeing the name of their youngest sibling on the screen brought a smile to his face.

"Yaya, when are you coming home?" Balkisa asked.

He shook his head and replied, "Good afternoon."

"Oh my gosh, I just forgot to greet," she said, laughing.

"Good afternoon, Yaya," she said again.

"Afternoon, dear. How are you?" he asked.

"Well, not really fine," she replied.

"Omo! What happened to my little angel?" Curiosity colored his voice.

She laughed, "lol, it's not a big deal. I'm just tired of waiting."

"Never mind, dear. We'll soon be back, insha'Allah," he reassured her.

"Are you sure?" she exclaimed with joy.

"Very sure, my girl."

"Yeyyy!" She started shouting, and he couldn't help but laugh.

Their mother took the phone from her, saying, "Give me that phone; don't burst his ears."

He greeted Mami with respect and asked her, "How was work? I know you must be asleep by the time she called you. I didn't know she was calling you."

He smiled as if they were not on the phone. "No, Mami, I'm not asleep, and I always enjoy talking to Balkisa."

"What are you doing, or is it that you can't sleep?" Mami inquired.

He hummed, "It's not like I can't sleep; it's only midnight here, and I'm reading some papers."

"Alright, let me leave you alone. Make sure you pray before you go to bed," Mami instructed.

"Okay, good night. And please, Mami, don't forget to pray for me, especially about Amatullah, the girl I told you about," Ayatullah pleaded.

"So you still haven't gotten over that girl, you never know," Mami asked.

"Yes, Mami, please pray for me. I love her, and I can't stop thinking about her."

"Okay, what's her name again?" Mami seemed a bit exasperated.

He smiled, "Haba, Mami, how can you forget the name of your future daughter-in-law?"

Mami sighed, "Ayatu, you must be out of your mind. How can you fall for a social media handle? What if the owner of the account you claim to love is a man using a female name? You better come back to your senses," Umma said firmly.

"Mami, please be positive," he lamented.

"Okay, did she reply to your message?"

"No, Mami, please just pray as I asked. That's all I need."

"Alright, I will, but you better keep that imaginative love aside."

He burst into laughter, "Imaginative?"

"Yes, imaginative. It's not love as you think. I've always wondered if someone can fall in love with a person they've never met, never seen. You told me she never posted a single picture of herself. What if she's much older than you?" Mami continued.

"Oh God, Mami, I said to be positive. Anyway, age is just a number. What matters is my love for her. As long as she loves me too, we can be together happily, whether she's Hajiya Kaka's age mate or not," he said, referring to his grandmother.

"What if she's already married?" Mami pressed.

"You just can't be positive, Mami," he said with a sigh. "With that, I'm ending the call."

He placed the phone down and tried to continue reading, but he found the documents uninteresting now.

He picked up his phone and began scrolling through new tweets on Twitter.

As he was reading a tweet from an unofficial ABU account, he decided to check the comments section, as it was his habit. He came across her comments as he scrolled down. She had mentioned her department, level, and course.

"Yes! I found her!" he shouted.

He immediately dialed his friend's number and asked for assistance with obtaining a visa to Nigeria.

Then he called his mother.

She answered, saying, "So, after ending my call, you still have the guts to call me again."

He smiled and replied, "Sorry, Mami, I didn't end the call myself. It was a network problem."

"Alright, what's the problem?" she asked, ignoring his explanation, knowing he was just trying to defend himself.

"Mami, do you want me to come back to Nigeria?"

"That's been my long-time wish," Mami said eagerly.

"Then, do me this favor. Ask Daddy to help me get admitted into the Architecture department at Ahmadu Bello University."

"What! Admission? After you're already a master's degree holder? They could employ you as a lecturer there."

"I'll only come back when my wishes are granted. It's either you tell Dad to secure my admission, or I won't be able to return," he said firmly.

And so, Ayatullah, a young man of not less than 27 years, born in Kano and raised in Kaduna, had attended Tarbiyyatul Islam primary and secondary school before moving to Saudi Arabia, where he completed his diploma and degree. He was an exceptionally bright student, and the school had offered him the opportunity to further his studies after employing him as an assistant lecturer.

It had always been his parents' wish to see him return, especially his mother's, but he never gave them a chance to complain. He had fallen in love with someone's words on Twitter, and with time, he had fallen for her. Her words had captivated him, even though she had never posted a picture or replied to his direct messages.

Now that he had discovered how to meet her, he felt like the happiest man on Earth. He had once glimpsed a picture on her header, and the face had seemed familiar. However, the woman he knew with that face was much older than the one he had seen in his crush's header.

While Ayatullah was lecturing, his father called him. He excused himself to answer the call. His father had heard everything from his mother about his desire for admission at ABU.

"I called to confirm," his father said. Ayatullah smiled and replied, "Are you sure getting you admission into that department will make you come back?"

Ayatullah chuckled, "Yes, Dad."

"Alright, promise me one thing: that you'll never leave again."

He giggled, "I'll never do that, as long as I'm admitted."

"Your admission letter was sent to your email. Lectures will begin in the next two weeks. You better be back on time."

"Thank you, Dad; you're indeed the best," Ayatullah said.

His father smiled, and they ended the call.

Upon Ayatullah's return, the entire family was filled with excitement.