Our Friendship

17

It was a crisp Monday morning, and Ayatullah's first day at ABU Zaria. As he set foot on the bustling campus, he couldn't help but feel a pang of self-doubt. The sheer number of female students in his faculty was overwhelming.

He found himself questioning his own audacity. How could he possibly locate one person among the thousands at the entire faculty with nothing more than a name to go by? The thought of seeking his father's help crossed his mind, but that was a step he just couldn't bring himself to take.

Lost in his thoughts, Ayatullah's reverie was abruptly interrupted by the passing of two young women. He tried to recall their faces, wondering if one of them might be the girl he had glimpsed in a photo on Amatullah's social media header. Doubts crept in as he contemplated whether the person in the picture was even the one he was searching for.

His inner voice questioned him, urging him to follow the two women to confirm his hunch. He rose from his seat, only to discover that they had vanished into the crowd.

Back in his room, Ayatullah sought solace in reading comments on Amatullah's social media posts. However, he was plagued by an unshakable dilemma. He had been racking his brain for ways to find her without resorting to his father's assistance, as he was determined not to rely on him for everything.

Balƙisa, his sister, had grown quite perceptive and noticed the turmoil within him. She tapped his shoulder and shook him gently, causing him to startle.

"Yaya, what's going on with you?" she inquired, her patience wearing thin.

A smirk crept across his face. "Nothing at all, just pondering how to get back to studying," he replied, trying to mask his inner turmoil with a smile.

Balƙisa moved closer and took his hands in hers. "Come on, Yaya. Tell me what's bothering you. I'm your sister, and you don't need to put up a front. This isn't the Ayatullah I saw last week," she said with a gentle tone.

He chuckled at her candidness. "Are you really addressing me by my name directly?" he teased.

Her laughter filled the room as she playfully responded, "Oops, my bad. Just kidding." She intertwined her fingers, adopting a more serious demeanor. "But seriously, tell me what's on your mind."

Amused by her antics, he couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, come here. Let me give you a playful beating," he exclaimed, attempting to reach for her.

Balƙisa smiled and said, "This is the Yaya I know. Please stop these unreasonable thoughts and continue being the friendly brother of mine," she pleaded. Despite Ayatullah residing outside of Nigeria, their sibling bond remained unbreakable, allowing them to speak openly.

"Please, tell me. I might have a solution, but even if I don't, I can still offer you comfort. Is it about Amatullah?" she suddenly asked.

His surprised gaze met hers. "It's not surprising. It's all Mami's doing," his inner voice reminded him. He had vivid memories of his mother's incessant probing whenever he was upset. Despite his pleas for secrecy, she always ended up divulging everything to his father shortly after he returned home.

He hummed, contemplating her words before finally conceding, "Yes, it's about her," he admitted, looking down as though confessing a grave sin.

Balƙisa waited patiently, her eyes fixed on him. "Okay, now tell me everything you know about her. There must be a solution," she encouraged.

He began narrating everything he knew, and as he spoke, Balƙisa burst into laughter. "Yaya, where's your sense of reasoning?" she teased, still chuckling.

His eyes narrowed, and he responded indignantly, "Are you just here to insult me?"

After regaining her composure, Balƙisa exhaled and said, "Calm down, I'm just joking. But you mentioned she's in level 3, right?"