The Precious Figure

Chapter 17

“Hey, Sis. I’m really surprised to see you at my doorstep. What brings you here?” Mustapha grinned at me. His eyes gleamed and his face was a rictus of sheer delight.

He was putting on a red t-shirt and a white pair of shorts. He didn’t seem shy and reserved…like he used to. He sounded very cheerful and confident.

I floundered words as I wondered what I was doing there and what I was going to tell him.

That I am interested in giving him a chance into my life? “Asalamu ‘alaykum Mustapha.” I smiled shyly, staring around the surrounding of the yellow-painted bungalow and trying hard to avoid his gaze. My mind was a whirl of confusion. I felt really ashamed of myself. I wished that I could turn back and run to my house…but I was there already!

“Wa’alaykumu salam Fareedah. What brings you to my house?”

“Well…. I…was just…” I prattled.

“Who’s there, Musty?” A female voice called.

The door was wide open and I took a peek inside the living room. A young dark-complexioned lady, dressed in a black veil and skirt was sitting on the couch with a magazine in one hand and a bottle of Maltina in the other. She gave me a glacial stare. I knew that she wasn’t Mustapha’s sister because Fatima, Mustapha’s sister was reading on the table.

“Come inside please,” he said in a low tone.

I entered the small living room composed of a small TV, a large couch and a small centre table. The green rug complemented the white-painted wall. Fatima stood up immediately I entered the house.

“Asalamu ‘alaykum sis. How’s the holiday going?” We were in the same level and she was also a member of the Muslimahs’ society (and a close friend to ‘Aatiyah).

My heart plummeted and my palms had started to sweat. All I could see was the petite-looking lady sitting on the large couch. Her brown eyes, dark skin, pink-coloured lips…

“I should go inside,” Fatima said, leaving the living room briskly.

“I have to check the rice I’m boiling.” The lady said almost immediately and hurried out of the living room.

Mustapha heaved a long, shuddering sigh and said, gesticulatingly. “Please take a seat.”

“Okay.” I kept a distance from him and lowered my head, staring at the fashion magazine that displayed celebrities flaunting their body figures and accessories.

“I’m sorry about what happened. He isn’t worth it Fareedah, you’ll find someone better.” Mustapha stared at me with sympathetic eyes.