Chapter 4|Day Out.

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Day Out...

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One Week later.

With my Mother, Ummi back everything became tightened into place, a lot of things were remedied-

Like the maids slacking off in their job just because she wasn't around.

The cooks not following our Food Schedule.

The gardeners not watering the flowers three times a day as per her orders.

The drivers not maintaining the cars as supposed.

And Daddy complaining about my dressing.

Yes I take note of everything and reports everyone immediately after she's back. She's the backbone of the house. When she says no, then it's definitely no. Unlike Daddy who can be persuaded but I am inspiring to be like my Mother.

"You said something about going to a Royal wedding from the Zazzau emirate."

"No Ummi, Kano, it's Kano not Zaria and I'm not going anymore because she's too dull, boring and annoying. The events aren't much so I suggested that lace that you brought for me before you travelled but she was like her friends won't afford it, it's too expensive bla bla bla... I swear Ummi my mouth hanged open for a minute. She expects me to go to a wedding filled with low lives? Hell no. If they can't afford that then what could they afford? Do they want me to be seen wearing cheap clothes?" I complained feeling more annoyed as I recalled our conversation.

"Ah you're not going. That would be a disgrace yes." She pursed her lips in disgust.

"Never!" I exclaimed.

"Your phone is ringing." She handed me over the phone.

My heart leapt for a moment thinking it was him but to my utter disappointment it was Samha. Talk of the devil.

"Hey girl." She greeted.

"Hey yourself. What's up?" I rolled my eyes, making a face.

"Um my bridesmaids outfit has been chosen so I thought I should let you know." Her perfect British accent made coverage for her unlady-like voice.

"Uhh no thanks. I would actually not be in town then, sorry dear but I will make it up to you?" The lie slipped from my tongue perfectly and easily.

"Oh, okay then bye." She cut the call.

She wouldn't even plead! Pathetic.

I ripped a leather bag open to take out whatever it is I had inside. Socks. Of all things. With a grunt I pushed them back into their bag and dropped the thing on the floor.

Ummi has this thing, she hardly travels without bringing home toddler clothes. It's like an OCD, whatever baby clothes interest her spend the rest of their lives in her closet. That is until I get married, that's if I do get married and after getting married IF I will agree to give birth. The mere thought of a child growing in me makes all the hairs on my body to stand at attention talkless of one coming out of me. Well that's like a no-go area for me and my thoughts.

I sashayed to the dresser before lavishing myself with tons of different perfumes, swiped on Kohl to make my eyes pop out, dubbed on powder before coating my lips with nude coloured lipstick.

Very much satisfied with my look I turned to Ummi who was now clad in a multi colored native dress and was in the process of tying on her head-tie. Inquisitively, I raised a brow in her direction to which she replied with "I'll be going to your Aunt Bahijja's place. Are you coming?"

"No. Yazid and Mufasa are waiting for me already. We're going out." Mufasa is a name created by me, the guy's name is Mufid, during the time we made acquaintance he was in a relationship with a girl named Rashida. Initially the ship name was Mufash made by me, too. So one day, we went to watch The Lion King, the Movie and well Mufasa emerged. And he kinda looks like Mufasa with the oversized head and everything. Yazid is my childhood friend though.

"Okay then. I'm leaving, see you later." I waved at her before she left the room leaving me to myself.

I turned to the dresser immediately after to look at myself. Was there anything actually wrong with my looks? My face? Am I unattractive? Or is it that he finds me unattractive? This shit is really starting to scare me now. I've never in my whole 23 years of life been so self conscious before, so why was I trying to confuse my life now?

Okay so it has been a week since that day and I've received no text no call from my arrogant stranger. I've been intentionally posting pictures of myself too- something I only do once in a while on WhatsApp to grab his attention but he didn't even bother to check on any of them. Now I feel stupid. Pathetic even. But it's not making me stop hoping.

Hoping like a fool!

The worst part is I know that what we shared the past few days is a result of an honest mistake. Everyone drops the person that made him say "Sorry it's a wrong number" including my own self into the trashcan. So I know that we are not supposed to be speaking at all.

But at the same time I need to know whether I'm the only one feeling strange things towards that stranger.

You said it yourself. He is a stranger, block him out of your life girl! What are you doing obsessing over someone you do not know or care to know?. This is my subconscious speaking. It's all true except one tiny detail, I badly want to know who he is, I care!

I've never been so confused in my life and there's nothing I hate more than the feeling.

Grumbling to myself I walked out of the room adjusting the buttons on my top. Even the buttons were refusing to be nice today.

I stared at my reflection in a mirror, applauding myself internally. Donning a Navy Blue baggy long-sleeved chiffon top, High-waisted ripped Jeans that clung to my body like a second skin, and my all time favourite sunshades- I know I killed it. Self-satisfaction surged right through my veins, deep. Like it always does.

I wrapped a lilac cotton veil over my head, then lined perfect wings on my eyes before applying mascara. This made my eyes not only pop more, it brought out a boldness in them.

Murmuring Jason Derulo's Get Ugly I shoved my Camera into the red chanel bag I was holding before slipping into red flats.

All set, I walked out of the house fully aware that Daddy wasn't around but nonetheless David, my personal security was around. And his main motive in life was to follow me around like a tail.

An irritating tail.

I motioned at him to come closer so that we could have a talk. Well David is a 42 year old man who works for Daddy. He's like 6'2, huge with those biceps, triceps whatever, you name it. But I'm in no way scared of him.

"Ma'am."

"David dear," I started with an exaggerated smile "I'm going out with my friends. Don't you worry, I'll be safe so there's no need for you to follow me about and around, I'm no frickin teen. Don't. Follow. Me. About. I'm not a kid." I waggled my finger to his face to lay emphasis.

"His Exellency's orders over yours." He responded as his face remained stoic and emotionless - as always.

The gall of this man to say this. I glared at him for defying my order and walked straight to the Blue BMW parked closer than all the other cars ignoring his sounds of protest.

I heard the screeches of a tire behind me even before I caught him through the rearview mirror.

He's fast. Game on.

The area we live in could be said to be one of the most silent, uncrowded and peaceful place with not much people around so I pressed on the pad and accelerated the car, changing the gears before speeding off into the road with no fear of hitting a soul.

I'm quite a good racer. One of the reasons why Yazid is my bestie is because he taught me how to drive like a psycho. And I love it.

I swerved through the area with skilful expertise. After making sure that he had lost trail on me I moved to the direction of our meeting point.

"Daddy's girl." Mufasa called out once I reached the open area.

I threw him a glare before moving to Yazid who was waiting for me with open arms. I missed him.

After giving him a hug I took my position and sat on the boot of his car, taking my pet outta the bag.

"You've started, right?" Yazid moaned in faux displeasure.

"That's why you love me." I giggled.

"Yeah right" he muttered, his words soaked with sarcasm.

"Mufasa" I called out "Yazid says he hates me"

Mufasa grinned as he parted his lips to speak but nothing came out as his friend threw the p-cap he was wearing to his face.

I wonder what shit was almost spluttered from his big mouth.

"Dude!" Mufasa exclaimed "You almost fell my phone"

"I should've. It belongs to the ground just like you do" Yazid countered.

"Your crush is getting married" I wiggled my brows at Yazid.

"Who? You?"

"No" I playfully swatted his chest. I was never his crush "Samha"

"Ah please. Never was and never will be. She's my ex for God's sake"

"Battered shit" Mufasa joked pertaining to the state in which Yazid fell when they parted ways. He was so gone.

"Don't you feel anything?" I taunted, add up with curiosity.

"The hell would I feel anything. It has been a year guys" he raised his hands up in the air. He has always been a make-motions-when-speaking-type-of-guy. You get what I'm saying?

Our trio is one heck of a crazy one. Mufasa comes from Potiskum, Yobe State and he's of the Gizm tribe. Yazid from Gombe, Fulani tribe while I'm a combination of Hausa and Fulani. Though in actual sense, I believe that I am pure Hausa because there is not a word I can understand in Fulfulde. So who am I to deceive?

This is a norm for us, we meet frequently and never miss new things to discuss on. We literally have the same circle of friends. My father and Yazeed's are very close, they've been so since during their diaper- oh, napkin days. We grew up together then when I left the country for another he did the same but we went to separate places. He schooled in Ghana and that was where he met Mufasa, the loud crazy guy.

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