Dr. Oyebanji had spoken consistently for two hours and it had gotten to the stage that I could only see the movement of his lips and his brownish teeth showing from within. I studied the way he talked with so much enthusiasm; pacing back and forth and pausing to clean the beads of sweat that formed around his forehead. I stared at his gray-coloured-faded trousers and the blue shirt that he wore thrice every week. Was he really happy with his job? Had he ever imagined being in a place where he didn't have to yell at the seas of people clearly uninterested in what he was saying?
"Now who can define arteriospasm?" he asked, darting his eyes to the thousands of eyes that peered at him.
Immediately, I lowered my head and avoided his gaze. Who would want to be disgraced in the midst of hundreds of people? It was then I realised that my black-thick veil was making me sweaty.
"No one? Let's end the class here. I'll ask you for the meaning in the next class," Dr. Oyebanji said, sighing heavily as he held his pile of books.
My course mates squealed in delight as they watched him leave the hall. They had immediately started to walk out in groups, chatting and laughing excitedly.
I turned to Raqibah, who was revising yesterdays' notes. I used to think that I was the most serious student in my department till I met Raqibah, a studious and bookish fellow who could do nothing but reading. She had joined us at our 300 level and at a first glance, I stared at her unusually. She was pudgy and her big size couldn't be hidden under the big clothing. Her legs were as big as fat tubers of yam and her body flapped when she walked. Raqibah was as fair in complexion as the inside of a mango fruit and dark spots and pimples filled her face.
'I do not have the time for beauty treatments. My focus now is to make good grades and become the best graduating student in Medicine,' she would say, pouting her lips in a way that made her feel proud.
Raqibah was my only friend, and that was because she was also a bookworm. While some of our course mates went on dinner dates and watched movies, we spent our free time in the library; reading till our eyes hurt.
Apart from reading, I was also passionate about my deen. I created time to partake in the Muslimah Students' Society activities, dressed decently and avoided a close relationship with the opposite sex.
"Professor Audu's test is this Friday. Lets study for some time at the library," Raqibah said, adjusting her extra-sized spectacles and peering into the sheet of paper she used in writing her daily list of activities.
She wore an extra-sized-milk-coloured chiffon gown and black veil; the same outfit that was a regular uniform for her on Tuesdays. One could predict what Raqibah would wear the next day. She was from a wealthy home but she spent her money on books and food alone.
"Oh no, I have to go home now. Mom is not feeling too well and I need to make lunch," I said, placing a hand over my forehead. The heat was very intense and I regretted wearing a thick-black veil the second time.
Mom was the only one I had. She had told me that dad and her divorced immediately I was given birth to. He left for New York and news came later that he had died in a fatal accident. I love her so much and she is the most precious person in my life. My sole goal was to make her feel proud and happy about what her daughter was becoming.
YOU ARE READING
The Precious Figure
SpiritualFareedah, a 400 level student of Medicine sees life in one way; striving to make good grades and please her mom. When the handsome, rich and overly-nice Najib comes her way, Fareedah seems to be lost in another world; a world different from hers. Ho...