Chapter Four

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Hearts in Tune 4

“Mami, do you know if Baba has anyone in mind? Can you probe his thoughts?” Sameerah asked her mother as she spooned apples into the side of her plate and fetched her hot egg bite sandwich from the toaster. She poured herself a glass of water and sat dejectedly at her breakfast nook in the kitchen.

“He wants you to marry one of Sa’ad’s friends and I want better for you, Mimi. You cannot marry any of those No Future Ambition boys.” Sameerah could not bring herself to chuckle, she was at her wits end and it was just a month into her father’s pronouncement. She figured, if she would marry someone, at least before September, she would have to get to know them.

“I know Mami, but all the men I know are either married to their first wives or they’re on their second and I’m not so into going to stress anyone with my problems.” She could not bring herself to bite into what she knew would be a delicious sandwich, so she put it down.

“Mimi, you’re a resourceful woman, put the effort you put into putting the company on the news into finding a husband and you’ll be successful at it. I know you.” Sameerah shrugged and bit into her sandwich, eating but not enjoying the work she put into it.

“Mami, you won’t even help me? All those your friends you go to Doha with, none of them is willing to help?” Sameerah heard her mother laugh so loudly over the phone that she pulled it away from her ear for a moment. She put it on speaker as she packed the sandwich into a foil wrap and dumped it into her Lacoste tote.

“I see them more than they think, their children are nothing to write home about. Some are even worse than Sa’ad, even having children with women they haven’t married. No, oo I don’t want that for you.” Sameerah heaved a sigh and packed herself a bottle of juice in her Stanley bottle. She hated the design of those sip cups but bought a bottle from the same brand and it did its thing.

“Mami, all I’ve heard is, no one except me can help myself?” She asked her mother in exasperation as she fitted the bottle into her tote and slung it over her shoulder.

“Mimi, you just need to stop being so focused on the business for once. It can run itself, focus on yourself. What are you doing today?” Her mother asked as Sameerah turned off all the appliances in her little one bedroom apartment in the company’s premises.

“I have to be at a food sufficiency convention in the main city in about two hours, I’m on a panel with some very important people in government so I need to get there early with my secretary.”  She answered and shut the door firmly behind her, locking the keys and throwing them into her bag.

“I’ll find a link to watch you, it’s all I do these days anyway. Watch one thing or the other.” Sameerah laughed lightly, she wanted to be able to watch different things round the clock as well, but the factory needed her and until she could get the incompetent people her father employed to watch her, out, she could not rest.

“Thank you Mami, you’re the best. The very best. Pray for me, please?” She asked gently as she reached the car, her mother slowly said a dua that lifted Sameerah’s spirits as she got into the car through the door her police escort opened.

She had learned very early on in her career that impressions mattered, they mattered very much and she hold keep them up if they got into rooms being meek did not. As they drove to the conference center, she brainstormed with her secretary on the necessary information and materials, she skimmed through the questions they might ask and began building answers to them in her head.

As they arrived the metropolitan city and began the turn into the event center used for the convention, it took the driver four turns and he still did not find parking. Sameerah shook her head and asked him to stop at the side doors, she had her VIP tag anyways, she pulls be safe. The police escort opened her doors and as she stepped out with her secretary, she noticed that there were far fewer people milling around the area.

“Ma, I forgot my tag o. I’m not sure they’ll let me in without it.” Sameerah looked at her secretary and fought the urge to purse her lips publicly, it was one thing to be known as a cold woman, it was another thing to embody it and she did not want to give fodder to gossip.

“Go get it and meet me at the A resting area.” They parted, with Sameerah going forward, presenting her tag and being let in. An usher, a pimply faced young man took her to a resting area with a lot of couches and she found one and took her seat.

At first she looked around. The room had at least five couches, two however were backed against one another so she could seat on one and not have to discuss with whoever was on the other side. She quickly looked around, got up and sat on the one facing the door.

She quickly took out her IPad and began to go through the notes she had made in the car. Her father would be watching for sure and there no need to disgrace him, she needed him on her side more than ever.

She took out her Stanley bottle and her sandwich slowly and unwrapped it, still going through her notes when she heard a low commotion coming from the door. She raised her head and saw about four men in dark suits glaring at her, she looked down at her sandwich and back at them, wondering what their problem was.

She took another bite of her sandwich and turned her attention back to her notes when she heard them whispering. She was forced to look up to the source of the commotion and her eyes met with the most popular face in Kano, the face that graced the billboards and fliers pasted to the culverts as you drove that it was completely unmissable.

Sameerah did what anyone in her situation would not do, she spoke. “What is the matter?” She directed her question to the man nearest to her, her face showing how quickly she expected the question to be answered.

“You’re in our space, and you’re asking ‘What is the matter?’, can’t you see the governor?” Sameerah’s already tumultuous heart rate sped up and she lost her cool.

“Cat got his tongue? Can’t he speak for himself?” She saw out of the corner of her eyes that he was placating whomever he was with and began to wrap her now unlucky sandwich. It had been exposed to the cold air of the room and she didn’t want it any longer.

“You’re the one in our space and you have the effrontery to be rude? What kind of woman are you?” Sameerah’s eyes widened in shock as she swung her head to the governor himself, standing there.

“Is this how you let your staff talk to people?” The room was silent and all that suddenly reigned in that moment was just the both of them, in a staring contest that lasted several seconds.

“Ladi, we can share the room. The event starts in a few minutes anyways. Let it be.”  Sameerah wanted to rage at him, why didn’t he talk back? Why and how was he so calm?

“Good.” She promptly sat right back down and began to unwrap her sandwich again, this time actually tasting the salt, pepper, seasoning and cheese she had so lovingly put in it. She opened her vacuum bottle and took a sip of her refreshing juice, knowing that whoever Ladi was, he had to be fuming so much.

As she ate the last of her food, crumpled the foil and put it in her bag, she hummed as she wiped her hands and took a large gulp of her juice again. She looked at her watch, wondering what was taking her secretary so long. She hummed again nodding her head in tune with her song, feeling a rush of excitement at being ready to speak in an hour.

She looked up to see the harried face of her secretary and made a concerned face, seeing her so fearful. Sameerah tried to wave her into the room but she shook her head and stood where she was.

“Come inside, why are you standing there?” She raised her voice to ask.

Her secretary whispered from the door, “Ma, you’re in the wrong room. This is A1, you’re supposed to be in A2 either the other speakers on your panel.”

In that moment, shame of the worst kind hit Sameerah Yusuf Bebeji and she had no idea what to do.



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