Two days ago, my brother and I were coming back from the super market. My brother was driving way too fast, as usual, and we had an accident. We bashed a car, and the car hit another car, all three cars were pretty damaged, but Alhamdullilah ( Praise be to Allah), no one got hurt.
Mr Aminu, my lecturer called me and I told him about the accident. He emphathised with and told me that he was actually with Adnan and another person, whose name I did not care to know, at that moment. He asked if it was okay, if he gave prince Adnan and the other person my number, so they could greet and check up on me, and I told him it was more than okay. I was careful not to sound too excited, but really I was freaking out.
I had mixed feelings about the whole thing, first I was excited, and then it was followed by uncertainty and nervousness. So I wrote a list of possible questions the prince could ask me, and answers I would give him, stopping at intervals to question my mental fitness.
I waited for his call, like I was waiting for my life. I was with my phone throughout, everywhere, and I mean everywhere. I even installed true caller on my phone, so I could mentally prepare myself when he calls.
This morning, after fajr prayer, I was performing du’a when my phone beeped. After I finished performing du’a, I picked up my phone and saw that they was a text message. I clicked on the text message and it read :
Assallam alaikum, prince Adnan here. I heard about the accident, and I’m so sorry. Just wanted to check up on you. I hope you are doing well? Allah hafeez.
A text message, seriously. I was disappointed, because it meant all my mental preparations and Q and A list would go to waste. He had no interest in me whatsoever and he only sent the message for the sake of common courtesy. Crushing on a prince was too stressful. That was when I decided that I was done with my shameless pursue of him, and I told myself that I was over him, I just had to be.
TWO WEEKS LATER
I was starting to get tired of the holiday and they was still two months left. My daily routine of sleeping, working, eating, praying and watching movies was becoming very boring. I needed to find something new to do ASAP. So, I called Mrs Abdulrahman, my entrepreneurship lecturer. Yes, I had a pretty good relationship with almost all my lecturers. She asked me to meet her in town, so we could discuss the assignment.
I got to the restaurant before her and found a table behind and waited for her to come. I waited for about five minutes when she came into the restaurant. I spotted her from afar scanning the restaurant looking for me.
”Miss Abdulrahman”, I called and waved her to come forward. She turned to look at me, and with a smile she walked over. She wore a long flowing black abaya and soft pink hijab neatly wrapped around her head. Mrs Abdulrahman was a tall, slim woman with dark skin. She didn’t look a day older than twenty six, but her first son was actually twenty six.
”salam alaikum,” she said pushing her hands forward.
”wa alaikum assalam”, I smiled and shook her hands.
”how are you doing?” she asked as she drew out a chair from under the table and sat.
”I’m fine, Alhamdullilah”.
”you didn’t order anything?” she asked, motioning the waitress over.
We ordered for orange juice and chatted for a while, before she brought up the assignment discussion.
”you know about our annual film show right, the one we organise at the end of every year?” She asked.
”of course. Who wouldn’t? It’s like the biggest thing at school every year” I said, matter of factly.
She smiled, ”yes, some students have been chosen to play their different parts in making the show a success, but they was still one aspect of the show, that was yet to be taken care of. So when you called me, I just knew you’d be perfect for it. It is a video documentary on the life of royalty,” she said, adding a little drama to the way she said the last words.
”you want me to do a video documentary on the life of royalty?” I asked, my mouth forming an O shape. It felt amazing, I couldn’t believe it. I’ve always been fascinated with royalty.
She nodded and smiled, ”you would be covering the life of the royal family of Bida, Niger state. The abdullahi’s.
”the Abdullahi’s,” she repeated, raising an eye brow, with a questioning look on her face, ”is they a problem?”
”erm, no”, I lied. Of all the royal families in the world, why did it have to be his.