What followed was him going through the medical ritual (follow
ups with his indigenous doctor), then turning into Sherlock Holmes until he got all
remaining info he needed about Aisha.
An 'expected occurrence' took place next.
Its was on one those signature hot Kaduna afternoons he said,
he’d knelt down pouring Chairman a cup of tea.
*KNOCK KNOCK*
It
was the General. Before he was even acknowledged he’d cleared his throat said
“Salam alaikum” and barged in.
He was immediately followed by what Umar in his suspended
animation (due to the Azathioprine I presume) thought was an albino with the
longest brunette hair covered in a veil he’d ever ever seen.
Except it wasn’t. It
was Hajiya Saeeda. And boy! Was she beautiful.
The next thing that followed was far from convenient.
Effects of the drug (as he put it anyway, but you and I know
better) had him in suspended animation. To make things worst he caught a
glimpse of Ms.White Rose, that very instant, he nearly burnt his dad’s foot with
the tea that was supposed to go into a cup.
It didn’t. Thank god.
And lucky for him the general along with his second-in-command
tuned out chairman’s rage and yelling as they started doling out caution,
instructions and advise all in unison.
“You know should be taking it easy fah Umar. What is
the rush? Besides why tea in this hot weather. You should let your younger ones
handle stuff like this.”
He didn’t get a millisecond to answer/remark.
His face just went red. And he did in fact blush. Oh yeah!
He had been pale and lost ample amount of melanin. Now his
own face was giving him away.
He greeted them in generality and excused himself.
He needed to clean up. No one had noticed he got his trouser
soaked.
15mins later Yassir came knocking- He pointed towards Chairman’s
parlor. It was the General that wanted to see/talk to him.
“Come sit here!”
‘Here’ was right beside him.
“Young man how are you feeling? Hope much better? I hope
that for your own sake you are adhering to the doctors’ instructions and
prescriptions? You dare not eat or drink what you’ve been prevented from! We
are all lucky and fortunate you’re father is a repressed hypochondriac and
didn’t waste time in getting proper evaluation. Else only god knows… be very
mindful of all you’ve been told”
“The guy just kept questioning and ordering. It’s a good
thing I know how deal with his type.”
I just kept going “yes sir, yes sir, sir!, sir? Yes sir, yes
sir, sir, alright sir…”
And when he paused for a breath I appended it nicely with a
“thank you sir!”
He checked his watch and told me to go get ‘the family’…
I strutted towards Hajiya’s parlor just to have my eardrums
in awe of what was going on.
My mom was conversing in the most fluent of Hausa with
Dr.Saeeda!?!
I kept wondering… “when did she learn to speak to like that?”
"Earlier in Chairman’s parlor and with the tea-incident she spoke in
English. It was only natural I’d assume it was her primary language of
communication."
As they saw me approach they all looked towards my direction
and said- “Ai ga Umar din ma!” (Ah there he is!)
Of course they were talking about me. I thought.
I quickly reached for the chair backing the hallway so I
balance my hands and move on with the pleasantries and deliver my message.
Before you knew it, Dr.Saeeda was all over me with doctor
like questions.
(Yup! She was doctor. That’s how they met with the general.
She was with one those UN, WHO, whatever programs and he was a MILOB.)
I indulged her questions while trying to look anywhere but
towards Rosa Blanca (white rose in Spanish- he was trying to impress me.
It worked!)
Funny thing was… there was another person sitting on the
chair. God knows I didn’t notice her till she leaned forward to put down the
now half glass of water.
“Who?” I ask
“Yasmeen! I didn’t notice nor acknowledge her presence with
all the drama that had happened earlier. And even though it was her chair I was
holding onto….”
I interrupt him- “Yeah right! But you saw and drooled over Rosalina or is it Blanka?!
Tisk tisk tisk. Anji kunya! (You shamed yourself!)
Then came flying a pen. I blocked it with my pillow.
He hisses.
It was as if he’d given me a cue to continue- “Its true
nowwwwww. Poor lil Yasmeen. Leaving the comfort of her home to come and check
up on you yet… you didn’t even…. UMMH!”
He stares at me.
“You know what? In the spirit of brotherhood you should
really hook up a brother with that Yasmeen. Its only natur…!””
I see a teaspoon coming straight for my head. I dodge.
We laugh and take deep breaths.
He shakes the mouse to stop the screen saver. Then checks
the time.
“You know your man. Lets go munch something before we see
‘made in china’.”
We decided to join Bunz for some grub in the other room.
My room, the nostaligic H-116.
I didn't have an appetite.
Well... I did.
But not for food.
Had to be patient with him before he rushes a good story
or even worst yet, exaggerates.
So I went ahead to pour us some tea, in a knelt down
position while winking at him. This time there was nothing in the air. He just
shook his head.
Ahmad (the cousin who had no access to ‘My Oracle’) comes
in with plastic and glass bottles- them things you call soft drinks.
He offered them to Umar and Bunz.
Bunz was quick to grab one. Umar on the other hand was
nonchalant about it.
I noticed that he very seldom drank them. It was then he
told me that he used to be addicted to them- coke especially.
But scared for his life while on the hospital bed, he had
been commanded a military doctor to stopOR DIE. That was even before he had the biopsy.
Another thing we had in common, I thought. No! Not the
complications. The no-soft-drinks-policy. I’ve never
been a fan.
However, before he became repentant- he was a stubborn addict.
He would have Yassir, his brother, smuggle coke in a juice carton.
Room 116 was in Red Light mode. The default.
Good for eating. Lounging. Sleep. And entertainment. The CD
player shuffled. Disk 2. Track 7.
It was the group Soluna. (His CD)
"…i love this song. Especially the Spanish version.
She gave me that CD and much more on my birthday"
(press play)
*he sighs deeply*
"…where were we?"
In my mind- ‘I thought you'd never ask!’
“You. Living room. Yasmeen. Them leaving.”
“Oh yeah! Soon as they saw me enter they were like “ai
ga Umar dinma” (here's the Umar even.)
“I greeted the Doctor properly this time. She asked all
her doctor-like questions. When we finished, I told her d general has summoned.”
It was then she frowned on her two girls- “cant u even
greet him?!”
I just smiled and stared towards the red carpet. We greeted
a tad bit formally.
And they got up to leave. But not until we had that
moment. That glance-like stare. It seemed to last like the trip from Abuja to Toronto.
Yet wasn't enough.
She 'deliberately' went out last... and her eyelids
fluttered like wings or was it petals. Yeah… that’s right. Petals. They
fluttered like petals momentarily revealing those hazelnut eyes.
My heart simply went- LUBDUBB!
I smirk. Then daydreamed as well.
For a moment in my mind i thought- “jokes aside… this guy should
really hook me up with this Yasmeen, she should be older now...”
He intruded.
“After they had left. I thought to myself it’s finally time
I man up and ask her out…”
I found Engineer under the hood of Chairman’s new official
vehicle, the Peugeot. He was fine tuning or whatever. You know how he is with
cars. Always has to look for the tiniest wahala to ‘fix’.
I asked him point blank- ka san gidansu? (Do you know
their house?)
He sheepishly smiled and told me he’s ready whenever I am.
“It was that obvious!? Everybody including my reflection knew
I was into that girl, except me.”
It wasn’t until after two days before I could get him finish
the story. He was working on his project, it was 2nd semester after all, and he
was in 500level (5th and final year). I, on the other hand, had a light timetable- i was in my 2nd year (200level).
To tell you the truth I ended up offering to type the remainder of the
thesis for him. And I did. Learnt a lot about urban and regional planning
because of it.
I made us custard and brought in a plate of munchables. Then kindly asked him
to please finish/continue the story. He saw it in my eyes and gestures that I
was desperate
.
He does a ALT+ F4 on the game- it was 3D Ultimate Pool if I
remember correctly.
“From then on….”
“What is from then on?” I interject.
“You have to start from when? where? how? Engineer took you her
house.”
[Engineer (who's real name was Mohammad), was one of those... 'yan gida' (house-helps) that became like family. He was originally Chairman's driver, still is, if I'm correct.]
“Kaih Mallam. Baka da mantuwa ne?! (Aren’t you ever forgetful Mallam?!)”
I nodded in the negative. "Nope."
“Ok…!"
"I’m sure it went this way… we set a day for a weekend that
seemed an eternity. When it finally came I wore a white shirt and black
wrangler jeans.”
(I forgot to mention that Umar was a Nigerian cowboy! He
loved everything country. At times he’d get carried away and think himself a
Texan. Thus the Wrangler products. The rock and country music. And the
attitude.)
When they got there he really did man up. Because Lord knows
I wouldn’t go 'guns blazing', I would employ some tact.
He just made sure the General’s car wasn’t there and proceeded to
knock.
Yasmeen came yelling… "Coming!".
He was busy ‘fixing’ his collar and scrutinizing himself via
the reflection of the tinted glass panes on the door.
I’m sure at some point he must’ve gone "Oh shit! They could be seeing me doing ‘make up’."
She opened the door and had this look of surprise on her face, which even made Umar more concious of himself.
"Sannu da zuwa" (You’re welcome)
"Thank you. Is your mom in?!"
I was stunned- "Huh? Mom kuma?!!"
"You just didn’t expect I’d ask for Aisha head on now did
you?" He defended.
I smirk and shake my head at his false attempt towards bravery.
"No. She isn’t but she should be back in say… *checks her
watch* 20mins.
You can wait for her if you want."
"Okay that will be fine."
How conducive!? I thought.
He would later tell me that the homework, or should i say 'Sherlock Holmes' he
pulled the week before was all to do with her parents working schedules and
Islamiya (Islamic Schools) they attended.
Yasmeen was no one’s dully. She disappeared from his and ran straight
to Aisha's room.
"You! Dear missy have a guest!!" she shouted.
"Me?
Who is it?"
"Your window-seat hater lover mana!" She blurted giggling and
sticking her tongue out.
Aisha dropped the paint brush and pointed at her slim sister with a
dirty finger- “....stop messing around and let me finish this!”
"Wallahi (I swear) I’m serious!"
"Here come peep for yourself."
She was skeptical about her sister, who had a reputation of pulling
practical jokes on everyone including the General.
But a part of her wanted it to be true even though it wasn’t
likely.
She got up. Dabbed her hands on the bemired beige colored dashiki she wears
whenever she paints. And gave her sister one last warning with her red index
finger- “if I don’t see anybody there be sure to find another house to sleep in
tonight!”
Yasmeen just shakes her head in self-pity. As if to say its
high time I stop crying wolf.
Rosa Blanca now uses her shirt as a glove then held on to the edge of
the wall so she properly balanced and leaned forward to see who it was on the
two-sitter. All was going well, she could now see a white collar and half a
head. A little further and she could get a side elevation, that was when Yasmeen decided it was time Cupid was a girl. And she wanted
that role.
She pushed her sister!
Made her lose balance. Scream. And fall.
My guy told me he was already looking at his watch every 2 seconds,
paranoid as ever with ever tic and toc of the massive wall-clock behind him,
just to be startled by the thud and scream from behind.
Bissmillahi! He exclaimed.
In a second he was already offering her his hand and
whispered- “Are you alright?”
“…it was a white rose in a cone-shaped giftwrap with dots
and lines of pink and purple, respectively. I was sure the reasons she bowed
her head were to suppress her ego, build up courage, and not meet my eyes
amidst her dialogue. I later found out I was right.”
“I was so taken aback that the only thing I could do was…
hold the rose. Firmly with my palsy hand.
My white rose. Our
rose. And said “thanks”. It ended up for the better… Much better actually that
I hadn’t said more than that. A part of me wanted to tell her, that because of her
antics I ended up getting 1st class service and a lil flirtation, but I didn’t
want her to read into it as post-defeat backlash. So I just left it at that…
for now that is…”
I smirked and shook my head- a gesture symbolizing “That’s
vengeful Umar for you!”
He goes on to say- “…at that very moment she was so relieved
and had her guilt lifted, that she consequently lit my face up as she rose with
a smile; and my spirits with her mesmerizing perfume that smelt as if she’d
just put it on even though we had been on a 11hrs flight.”
I inhaled deeply. I tend to do that when my mind wonders as
it wanders too much. I think it was my subconscious trying to go back into (past)
fantasy and take a whiff of Aisha. Well… just her perfume.
“I won’t lie to you man… I spent the rest of the day immersed in waking thoughts about the tits and bits of our encounter after we had lodged into the
hotel. You'd find me cautiously fondling with that white plant, which I've now separated from its encasement. I got really annoyed at her dad for refusing Chairman’s invite to stay in the
same place with us, because he had a discount there and the place is top notch.”
My left eye was doing the imagining/daydreaming and
shoe-putting- “if I was there I would….”
Right eye was widest open and trying to accept the reality
of things on ground as they were- Leukemia. Aaysha. Aisha. Window seat. White
rose.
My multitasking (daydreaming and listening) was interrupted
by a wonted and obnoxious knock.
The tall, uproarious, goofy, yet humble bulgy-eyed Industrial
Chemist (in-the-making). It was ‘Bunz’- his roommate.
He stood there with his two hands on his stomach, with the
middle fingers touching each other right at his belly button signifying the
letter ‘H’ for Hunger. It’s mime thing we do- campus blues. He’d barged in with
his voracious appetite that needed quelling. Believe it or not, he actually did
his IT (Industrial attachement/internship) at Mr.Biggs (fastfood joint).
Imagine that? Lol.
I stared, shook my head, then pointed (food), inhaled, and hissed (he'd just let an army of mosquitoes in).
“My hospital ordeal was as follows- 6 days of tests, about 2
days for the procedure, and 2 weeks for the convalescence- the doctor dictating
to me as Chairman nodded away. My thoughts were ‘by then my fantasy coquette
would certainly be gone gone gone!’ Because there was no way I could ask Chairman
point-blank questions about the friend he’d met. Nope. Not just yet. I needed
tact, patience, and had to work my way towards it. But most importantly- Prayers.”
I nodded in agreement with every word he said, especially
the last one. I was at the apex of my spiritual journey at that time you see.
So solace usually came through solitude, meditation, and prayers.
“For the most part, I was ‘lucky’! Got them prayers answered…they came for
dinner one night!”
“…I happened to be overdressed for the occasion – spent my
pocket money at a nearby boutique. The dinner wasn’t all that…”
In my mind- ‘Well… I won't say I’m not disappointed. But go
on.’
“…I was uneasy. Not talking much. It was one of those
dinners that made you lose your appetite and the effects won’t wear off till
lunch the next day. Oh yeah! It was all about Chairman and the General. The
only time I was mentioned was when my medical history was being discussed as if
I was a case in a medical journal and not present at the table! Imagine?!”
He shook his head. I laughed.
“The seating arrangement didn’t offer much in terms of
line-of-sight if you know what I mean. But I did get to see her in that
flawless ‘Abaya’ that beckoned my now numb imagination, as she went to
get a salad bar and some hors d’oeuvres. You should’ve seen me trying to stare with
tact.” *laughs*
One thing did come out of it though- Got most my questions
answered in one sentence.”
They were there for holidays and we’re going to rendezvous
with his wife who was in Spain for a family visit.
Oh yeah! You heard me right. His wife…. Was in fact… a true
true bona fide aboveboard pedigree S-P-A-N-I-A-R-D.
:-O
My mind- ‘That lucky…. Ba..Man!!’
“I was like no wonder! Haba!! This kinda hair. Skin
complexion, chin, brows, her lips, those hazelnut eyes…. Yarinya sai kace aljana!? (Girl
was like a Jinn!?) *laughs*
“Trust me ma guy… right in that moment of discovery I was
sure my white blood count went up up up!”
If he still had one of those blood test he would’ve ‘proved’
it to me. He had this tendency to exaggerate, as in really really really
exaggerate, as I would find out later on in my relationship with him.
I was entranced and then envious of the General for such a ‘conquest’.
I had to stop Umar right there and then and have him extinguish this curiousity-induced
anguish I now suffer from.
“Tsaya Mallam! Spanish kace fa!? (Hold it Mallam! You
just said Spanish!?) How?!?”
(*Mallam is a prefix used in the Northern part of Nigeria
and nearby countries to denote respect. In this context there was an undertone
of exclamation to it.)
“And…?!” Me thinking out loudly. It couldn’t be that easy….
Right?
He would later learn how her mom left her Latin homeland,
came to Nigeria, got married, learnt Hausa, converted to Islam ALL in the name
of friendship, bonds, compatibility, and mostly- LOVE.
Choi!! I know by now this all sounds made up… but trust me….
It isn’t. I am telling it as I remember.
And if you know me you’d know I’ve inherited good memory
genes (may the Almighty bless our parents' souls both alive and deceased). They
don’t fade that easily, especially if they make SUCH neural connections in my
dome. It’s been 9 years now!? :-o
They left for Nigeria but not before visiting Umar in the hospital
and witnessing him hopped with drugs. That was his sorry state after having gone
through a life-saving procedure, which even had medical students coming all the
way from the States and Europe to witness.
In his hazy state he could’ve sworn
he saw her shedding a pearly translucent tear and her sis hiding behind her as
they stood by his now pallid, orgone-less,and motionless frame. He’d lost the fire they saw in him earlier before.
Wouldn’t you? If you had a 14hour operation with over 30
spectators, 6 participants, and even a cameraman!?
After he started recovering he’d hear his dad occasionally
receiving phone calls from the General and saying that the kids are relaying
their hi’s and condolences to Umar. The dad would pass the message accordingly.
But never once did he speak to them… I mean HER on the phone. It didn’t matter
to him, because he was confident that if he had a personal line (perhaps
cellphone) they would somehow connect. He was confident like that. *smh*
At this point I was thinking in my head that if I were him
that would make me heal and recover faster like a man with a mission, a blank
cheque, and a ticking time bomb that had no display.
AFLUTTER!!
Kaduna- Naija
on mind.
I was right. Again!? (I know I know- it’s either we had a
lot in common with this guy or I really do have an overactive imagination with
knack for hitting the bull’s-eye)
He said the two weeks recovery time earlier estimated by the
doctor ended up being cut down to 10days. He responded remarkably well to
medication and therapy. And all the final post-surgery tests concluded my
friend was fit be to 'Ebony' Romeo.
A thing I forgot to ask him was…
What did he do with the
white rose?
Their rose.
The rose.
Did his dad see it and ask questions?
Did he cherish and nourish it?
Put it in flawless water vase at the hotel?
Give instructions and threats
and rewards to anyone that would be able to keep it alive like that doctors
have for him through the Almighty’s Hand?
Did he?
Did he?
I know I would.
I would bring it back with me and it would be part of my
opening act and line when I meet my Spanish mulatto minx/belle. Romanticism at
its peak. *daydreaming*
Well it’s late for that now isn’t it.
He was sent home with a mission, a big grin, hordes of
instructions, 2 plastic bags (medicines & injections), and 4 envelopes (of
different sizes) containing medical reports, prescriptions, and test results to
ease with customs and immigration I presume, since then there was no TSA yet- post 9/11 days.
He confessed to sleeping half the night at the hotel eager
to hear the wakeup call from the reception desk. So he’d leap into KLM’s coach
bus and set his sights towards the left wing of the massive blue bird.
THE window seat.
He told me he’d done something so ‘unlike’ him, as if he was
ever gonna be the same the same anyway. Well… not after such an encounter he
wouldn’t.
He’d been amongst the first few to board the plane and bolted
straight for the red-letter window seat. It was such that Chairman was even
worried but his sudden surge of energy. That he had to check up on him and enquire about his stamina, biopsy points, and scars (he had a laser surgery) almost three times.
He was more than alright. He was on a quest.
Full of hopes.
Prayers.
And schemes.
All the while peering down the sparsely lit nightly skies of Toronto as they soared towards- home.
15 hours later…. He was in his quaint and spacious room that
reeked of loneliness, neglect, and precipitous sanitation. Of course that was
not until after having passed the hurdles laid from the gate, to the court yard,
and into Hajiya’s (his mother) parlor- maternal love and scrutiny, siblings'
rowdiness, close friends and neighbours, even house helps.
He is a really good person, so of course they would miss him
and worry.
His worry however was somethingelse entirely.
And his miss was a Miss.
:-)
He slothfully dropped his Wrangler leather jacket and sunk into
reverie.
