The differences between the ordinary human world and the world of love are legion. In the former, there are varieties of relationships while in the latter, only a single relationship exists. In the world of love, no sound exists except the simultaneous beating of the lovers' hearts. When the door of love is knocked, the ears of the heart, not the ears of the head hear. The world of love does not recognize joking with the heart just like an egg does not accept a joke with its shell. That's why on some occasions, characters who keep appearing in movies as couples, turn out to be in a serious relationship later.
I had a miraculous dream a day after I attended the wedding reception of my friend where I witnessed a lot of things that touched my heart, made me felt how honourable it is to also be in a relationship that ends in a happy marriage. The event, surely, made me dreamed of an angelic creature, a jewel with a beauty that surpasses that of Shraddha Kapoor. It is said that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, but I believe the girl I saw in my dream has a distinguished beauty recognized by every eyes and applauded by all hands.
My loneliness and celibacy that were mixed up with admiration for the lovely couples I met at the event brought about the dream. I could not tell how I murdered my shyness and breathed life into my courage. I approached lady, did well to get her attention. Being that I met her without a plan for that, I assumed she was in a hurry to get home. I thought of getting her contact and letting her go; with that, we could make a phone call. I did not know why there was no pen in my dreamland to jot down her number as she told me; there and then I crammed and memorised it very well proving to myself how wonderfully retentive my memory was. Who knew where my two phones were at that time? But such unexplainable unfolding of events is a common feature of dreams that everyone can tell.
Immediately I woke up at dawn, I put down the memorised number. I kept wondering and doubting if anything like that could be possible. But as I remembered the surprises and the peculiarities of the world of love, I dialled the number and a lady with a breath-taking voice received the call. She asked about the caller before anything else. As I told her my name, she went further to inquire how I got her number. I wanted to fabricate a convincing story but I thought anything built on the foundation of lies does not stand the test of time. In a serious and sincere tone, I narrated to her my dream and how she gave me the same number. She insisted to hear the true story but I insisted that nothing was false about my story. 'All right. How may I help you then?' She asked in a classy voice typical of a northern girl wanting to cut a long story short. I started with preliminaries such as praising her heart-breaking voice, admiring her fine accent and the eloquence of her expressions most of which were English.
We spent about six months making phone calls. I learnt so much about her. To my greatest joy, she lives in my city, but very far from my residential area. No single day passed without us making calls twice or thrice. But non of us had seen the face of the other. What I had in mind was the face, figure and posture of the girl I saw in my dream sometimes back. I fell in love with her; I knew she was also in love with me but she refused to tell me because of the pride and befalling style of the northern girls who can die with a love of a man without telling him. The reason we could not meet within that period was because of our studies. While I study in Kaduna state, she studies in Edo state.
In one of the late days of the sixth month, I called her but her phone was switched off– the first time ever. I had been calling after every ten minutes for the entire day but no good result. So I did the following day, the day after it; in fact the complete week. Nobody would say I was not sick in that week for I hardly talked, hardly smiled. My eyes looked red. What happened I could not tell. I knew if she had the tiniest opportunity to let me know why her phone was switched off, she would do so. I trusted her like the mouth trusts the hand.
With the rotation of the earth on the axis, five months passed without hearing of/from her.
I surrendered to the hands of destiny after forming River Niger of tears thinking of such a monumental loss. I decided to keep my phone for some weeks just because using the phone always reminded me of her, and my heart could not withstand seeing her number without calling again. Unfortunately, two weeks later, I went to take my phone but nowhere to be found; it was stolen by a trusted thief in my wardrobe.
I was at the MTN main office the following day to have a sim swap popularly known as 'welcome back' in Nigeria. I joined the long queue there waiting for my turn as more people kept going out and more kept coming in for one problem or the other. The place was very silent like a banking hall. One could hear whatever the other said. The persons next to me were two young ladies so also those I was next to. Now was my turn after the two ladies before me left. I greeted the MTN staff doing the sim swapping. She is a woman who appeared beautifully serious, neatly dressed with her eyes rolling as she stared at the screen of a laptop while her well manicured fingers were gently pressing the keyboard. I told her my problem. Instead of giving me a form to fill, she however, asked me orally. I kept responding to the questions. She asked of six numbers I usually called before my phone was stolen. The first number I gave orally was the number of the jewel of my dreamland whom I lost before setting my eyes on her. The two ladies next to me reacted, they were shocked by my retentive memory. They kept looking at me as if they were trying to find a truth while I gave the other five numbers by heart. May be my memory impressed them. Within few minutes, I was done with my 'welcome back'. As I stood up and went out, one of the two young ladies came and pleaded with me to wait for her friend who would soon be out. That she seriously needed few minutes to talk to me.
I was playing with a small piece of paper the way guys usually do to keep themselves busy in the absence of a phone while waiting for their girlfriends. When she came out, she approached the place I sat down while her friend stood up as if she was sent to keep eyes on me. The speed at which my heart beat increased. She greeted me and asked if I was Abdul. I responded affirmatively in a surprised tone. She quickly covered her face in shyness with the back of her smooth hands which showed the beautiful henna on her bright palms. I didn't know who she was. But her action told something powerful. Her shyness could not allow her say her name. As a result, her friend said it on her behalf. The name made me sprang up on my feet. This time around, the beating of my heart could make a young child dance. Should I believe her? She was Ummi, the lady I dreamed about, whom I had missed for six months. My mouth widely opened. I stood quite amazed.
She narrated to me how she lost her phone in an accident. The so-called helpers at the scene of the accident stole the victims' phones and money. And because we were all at our respective schools, she could not do anything to let me know of what happened. Tears of love rushed down from her eyes and dropped on her dainty feet. Her voice was exactly the voice I listened to some months ago. I could not imagine she was the one standing right before me. She is so beautiful that one can say she created herself. This lady has become an empress in my empire, a queen in my kingdom and a lioness in my den. She jumped from the dreamland to the real world. MTN office became a reason for an expensive story of our love. The two disappointments from my side and hers gave birth to a blessing.
FICTION
abdulmutallib.muktar@gmail.com
19th April, 2020.
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