Name: Abd’rahim Olayinka Radiah.
Address: Plot 77, Gbazango Extension, Kubwa-Abuja.
A 16 year old Medical student at Usmanu dan-fodiyo University, Sokoto. The fourth child out of five children. An ordinary girl with extra than ordinary abilities. I live at Kubwa. Arab Road to be precise. In a quiet area with my family and our dog.
NOTHING’S INTO SOMETHING’S
At first she was nothing.
And then she was something.
She was a rebel. A rebel I had never seen before. A rebel I had never shared a shadow with. A rebel I had never imagined would become more. A rebel I’m happy to have met.
She was Ni’mah Malik. She was the girl who got chased by rats. The girl who fell off the stairs. The girl who got slapped by the Parasitology teacher. The girl who clumsily made her way into the hall and bumped into me.
I was the girl with a lot of friends. The girl who gave other girls a run for their money. The girl with the tongue of a snake. The girl who slapped her colleague because she talked too loudly. The girl called Salama Mohammed.
There was a swap. The other girl left the room and Ni’mah moved in. She moved in and dumped her things in front of me. She told me she was tired. She told me she would arrange them the next day. She flopped on her bed. I was tongue-tied. I felt some strange way. I murmured an “okay”.
I got back the next day. She had arranged her things. She had swept my space. She had dropped a tray. I opened the lid of the pot.
Hot steam and the very pleasant aroma of assorted porridge caressed my face. Leaves, fishes, crabs, prawns, beef and a cold box of cucumber juice made me salivate immediately. I dropped the lid on the pot and it landed with a loud clank. I stood up. Came face to face with her.
“I made that for you. You should eat it.” She said.
“Thank you. I’m good.” I replied.
“No. I insist. It took a lot for me to make that. If the thought that I made it for you makes you feel uncomfortable then you should discard it because I did not. I wanted to make porridge so I did and served some for you.” She smiled.
“Thank you.” I turned away.
After taking a shower and praying, I took a bite. My first thought as the food came in contact with my tongue was- “Oh man, did a barrel of flavours just explode in my mouth?”
It was beyond delicious. The pot was wiped clean within three minutes.
She came inside from the bathroom and smiled at me. I thanked her and she was glad I liked it. We went to bed.
The days that followed were days I had never experienced before. We played till it was midnight. We laughed till our eyes watered. We ate till our stomachs were stretched and pumped big. But we also read till our eyes made red it’s semi-permanent abode. And the cycle continued.
But she lied. She was not the clumsy girl from the hallway. She was not the foolish girl who was chased by rats. She was not the dumb girl who got slapped. She was not the girl who fell off the stairs. No.
She was better. She was so much more. She was smart. Funny. Witty. Lively. Beautiful and very interesting to have around. She was flame and an explosion. A drip and a waterfall.
While our friendship kept growing, something else was growing. It was so strong it suffocated me. I fell in love with her.
I wanted to deny it. I prayed it was not true. I begged my Allah for it not to be true but it was and I knew it.
She looked up at me and smiled. That bright smile that lit up her eyes. That smile that made her face glow. The smile that made her look like she was glowing- beams of orange light spread out around her. And the smile that made my heart skip several beats.
I imagined us sharing a little kiss. I imagined her backed up against the wall with my tongue down her throat. I imagined her lying on the bed with my hands caressing her soft, light skin. I imagined us together in the shower, her eyes rolling into her head with her hands in my… STOP! My mind screamed.
Whenever I was around her, my mind seemed to wander. My thoughts would stray and then I would force myself to stop.
Astagafurullah! Astagafurullah!! Astagafurullah!!!
I would chant repeatedly in my head but when she smiled, I felt the thrill slide down into my groin.
Sometimes I thought she knew what she was doing to me. She would smile and then I would be lost. She would snap her fingers in my face and then I would blink but not without missing the little smirk on her face.
It went on like this until one Thursday night. We were eating, talking and rolling on the floor when I stood up to pee. I excused myself and went to the toilet. On getting there, I left the door ajar with my back to it and bent down to pee when I felt a hand trail between my buttocks. I shot up and turned around only to be met with something squeezed against my face.
I pulled free and saw a pair of breasts in front of me. If I was a guy I would have gone hard immediately as my eyes explored the smooth and inviting skin of her breasts for a few seconds. My mind wandered for exactly three seconds before reality hit me and I looked up at her face.
She was smiling at me and gave me a look that showed unwanted thoughts. I instantly felt disgusted. I thought I wanted this. I had been thinking of this but now that the opportunity literally stared at me right in the face, I felt like puking my guts out. I felt disappointed in myself. I could not believe I actually imagined my tongue down her throat.
With her green panties, mischievous smile and her breasts hanging out her bra, she reminded me of a scene from an horror movie somewhere at the back of my mind.
“Come on.” She purred.
“Astagafurullah.” I spat. I felt extremely stupid. “I never thought you were like this. All these while I had been living with a lesbian. Wow! I am beyond words. Salama, stay away from me. Get out of the way, I cannot bear to see you right now.”
“Idiot.” She laughed. “What do you think I have been doing all these for? The revealing moves, the smiles, the meals, the concern. You think I was just doing them because I found you nice? Don’t be stupid. I know you want this too. What? You thought I did not notice the desire in your eyes and the way you looked at me as though you wanted to rip my clothes off? Ni’mah I have made this easy for you. Unlike you, I have other girls waiting in line for this opportunity. This is the only opportunity you get to explore your desire, don’t you fucking make me look bad.” She said between her teeth.
“I admit I looked at you some kind of way.” I sounded pathetic in my ears. “But I thought I was interested in all this ” I sighed, feeling extra disgusted as the seconds ticked away. “I’m sorry for making you think I wanted this. I do not.”
“You do not.” She laughed. “You do not. Of course you do not. You are naive and it will take a lot of effort to even have a good time with you. It is really sad that I did this in front of you. I’m embarrassed of myself.” She placed her breasts into her bra and I looked away.
She put on her gown and gave me one last glare before going out of the toilet. I heard the sounds of things being thrown into bags and I guessed that she was packing her things.
I felt stupid, disgusted, immoral and abused. I began to continuously chant words of forgiveness as I slid on the toilet floor.
I crawled nto the bath tub and ran the cold water. I tore my clothes off ad began to scrub away with my sponge. I performed the ritual bath over and over again. Asking for forgiveness as though I had committed the actual sin.
I cried and scrubbed repeatedly all the while wondering what came over me but I came to a conclusion that nothing came over me.
It was clear. She had been nice to me, cared for me and it was foreign to me. I was grateful to her and her acts had buried their affection in me but that was what it was. I allowed my thoughts to run stray. Confusing like with love and like with lust.
I realized that that was her power- the charm, smiles, acts. I got up and on getting to the room, she was gone.
I knew it was wrong but I missed her immediately. I missed her smile, her laugh, her meals, her playful nature and overall, her. This is what it was. Me getting used to having a friend and caring about that person a lot. Caring so much that I made an illusion of having feelings for her. But she was alluring, even from first sight.
She was a rebel because she was all for making the world better than a gloomy sphere. The act she put up outside the walls of the room, was her own way of making the best out of someone’s day. It was strange but it was true. And it is sad that we can never be friends again. She could have been my rebel.
But it is not wrong. It is not wrong at all to miss her. It was only a mistake I am sure to never make again.
To never turn the nothing’s, into something’s.