Twelve

Mama dropped her off at the saloon and even paid the money before she looked at Aisha, all loving with a beautiful smile on her life. “Aisha, Nasir will get you when you're done. I've left my number with you. If you need something, buy it please.” She handed her a stack of money and barely heard the “Thank you, Mama.” Aisha had uttered.

She sat there, like a statue as the hairdresser began taking off her veil, and there revealed her long, bushy hair. Despite her hair having a rough texture, it was exceptionally long and black. Mommy had that kind of hair, and she wondered where Mommy hailed from to get that kind of hair. But despite anything, she thought of herself as Fulani, having a full long hair is nothing new to a Fulani lady.

Her hair was washed, and as she waited for it to dry into the dryer, she found herself drifting back to Nasir. What was he doing? What had he felt after reading her letter? Was he happy? Did he felt all mushy within? Did she gave away much information than needed in her letter? Oh god, let her not be that obvious.

“I'd start your henna before your hair is done, Ma.” A lady spoke with a respectful tone and Aisha nodded at her with a small smile.

She stretched her hands and the lady expertly began beautifying her legs. It wasn't done until her hair was done and she was brought back to that mirror she so much disliked. Because it gave her the chance to look into her face and see what she thought she had forgotten about. She clearly saw Mommy's face in her, and someone she couldn't quite point a finger at. She bet it was her father. The late, Alhaji Umar Faruk.

Aisha wondered if he were alive what would have happened and how much better her life would have been. How she would have escaped all that happened to her and all the truth she knew and saw about Mommy. She felt tears stinging the brink of her eyes, but she swallowed them back. If she started crying now, no one could be able to handle her, because there was a flood waiting for the right time to swallow the small city residing within her soul.

Her legs were left to dry up while the lady took her hands and started drawing some beautiful flowers on it. Even before she was done with her hands, Aisha had already loved her legs enough. It was so beautiful that she wished Nasir was there to watch, to see as she was being transformed into something she knew she would never be.

Yes, she knew she had a small likeness for makeup before and all that beauty encompassed. But the moment she left Mommy, just like she hadn't packed a single piece of her belongings from Mommy's house, she left all that was her there as well. She hated makeup and wanted nothing to with beauty. But today, as she saw how her hair was slowly being turned into, and how her legs and hands were being captured with expertise, she fell in love once again with makeup and beauty.

It took them hours before the girl was done and she was left alone for her hands and legs to dry. She kept swirling on her chair while watching as other customers converse freely and spoke about their husbands in a loving tone. She wished she could someday feel the taste of what having a husband be like. But who would love her for who she was? The daughter of a prostitute?

As painful as it sounded, that was her name, she was the daughter of a prostitute. The woman  that had no regard in the hausa culture and islam in general. The woman that had sold her dignity as a woman from arewa and she was held with no respect for herself or all that she bore. If Mommy was to become as pure and decent as a Maryam (AS). The only virgin mother on earth, the mother jesus, she will forever be called a prostitute. Because that's the name she painted her self with.

Asiya Bukar, that was the name of Mommy. The name she held close to her heart, with so much love and respect. But sadly, Aisha knew, she would be the only one to regard that name with as much respect as she could.

She could still hear Mommy's voice into her head as she called her “Humaira,” with the most loving and caring voice Aisha would forever heard. She didn't deserved what she got from Mommy.

A stubborn tear rolled down at her cheeks and she was quick and clearing it off. “It's time for the spa and facial treatments, dear.” The older woman told Aisha, and she nodded her head with a smile.

“But I need to wash this off first. Where can I?” She got down from her chair, admiringly looking at both her hands and legs. They looked cute, and she could imagine Nasir's face when he saw them today.

“That's our work, Ma. This way please.” She motioned for a corridor for Aisha and she silently followed her back. At the back of her mind, Aisha knew this saloon was one of the best, if not the best saloon in Bauchi. Judging by the way she had seen only rich ladies and women walking in and out of it. Mama was surely a fashionista that she wondered how she bagged her degree as a doctor.

Throughout the spa, Aisha had winced in pain when it hurt. And for the moments she had to wait for a certain scrub to absorb, a certain cream to get in, a certain lotion to blend, she had slept for that speck of those minutes. And it felt so good, and refreshing and tiresome.

Not until four in the evening that she finally had her bathe and was given a bathrobe. She had always wanted to be treated like a princess, but today, she was getting the treatment of a Queen. She was guided to the makeup section, and as a makeup freak, Aisha had never been wowed.

She sat there, seeing the reflection of her face through the mirror, and she put a hand on her now flawless skin. A smile crept out of her lips and an undeniable chuckle erupted out. She wished she had a phone, she would've snapped a picture and sent it to Nasir so he could see how crystal her face looked like before they applied anything on it. She wished it was possible to say that she wanted the makeup no more, she was satisfied with the facials and the spa that it gave her an exquisite look.

Knowing Mama spent so much on her for just today, she had to be an obedient daughter. At first, she saw no reason why Mama would be so tensed up over the wedding of her bestfriend's daughter. But later she realized, Mama wanted to introduce her to her friends and their families, and she knew Mama wanted her to be at her best and most elegant state. She loved the kind of taste Mama had in fashion. It was exquisite.

Her makeup was done, and even before it was finished, she had laughed a billion times. She really couldn't believe it was her. She had never had a professional makeup on her, it was always the result of one of her tutorial sessions on Youtube. She admit she had looked cute before, but today, this time...well, only Nasir had the right words. She knew.

“Hajia sent the driver with your clothes, can you please try it on so I can tie your headgear?” The makeup artist asked, as she handed her a gown. Flowy and horrifyingly beautiful, yet decent.

No matter how Aisha moved, her curves were hugged at every angel and she even mistook herself as the bride. Ya Allah! Where is Nasir?! When the woman tied her head gear, and Aisha smiled at herself through the mirror, for a moment she thought she wasn't the one until she saw the striking resemblance with her old self. That depressed teenager. Dr. Nasir's Aisha. Yes, she was the one.

The makeup artist took her some pictures to upload on her social media accounts and Aisha had laughed all the moment. They weren't done until a few minutes past 6, and the dinner was to start after 7. She still had some time. But she knew Mama being one of the planners, they had to be there as early as they can.

“Can you please call me the number she left? I have no phone with me.” Her cheeks got tired pf smiling while saying “Thank you,” at all the compliments she had recieved.

“He was already at the reception waiting for you almost an hour ago.” Even the women thought she was a bride, and the man that got there asking for Aisha Umar Faruk was no one but her husband.

She felt her heart raced as they escorted her to where Nasir was patiently waiting. The scent of her perfume and the soft click of her heels got to him, and naturally his head shoot up. He had never felt as thunder stricken as he had felt the second he set his eyes on Aisha. All that got out of his lips was “Pulchritude. Ya Allah, she must be a run away angel. Definitely one of the hurul ayns!”

That didn't escaped their ears, and they all laughed, not together with Aisha. Because she had her eyes merged together with his. As they spoke the words that would never be voiced out through their eyes.

Nasir finally found himself and he stood up and walked to them, as lazily as he could ever be. He looked at the two women and smiled brightly at them. “Who is the makeup artist? The henna designer, the hairstylist, everyone that laid her hands on her, I have a token for you all.” He pulled out a hundred thousand notes and handed it to them, his eyes not leaving Aisha that now was fiddling with the fingers he admired only hours ago. Not even a day long. But they had been transformed to something he would kill to hold into his hands.

They thanked him and escorted them to the car. The one holding Aisha's clothes in a bag put it at the back of the car before they looked at Nasir and unison, uttered “Your wife is really beautiful. Thank you for bring her here. We wish you a happy married life.”

“She really is, thank you.” He thanked them and they drove off.

He only took a few minutes driving before he parked on the road and turned, completely setting his eyes on Aisha. And this time, she had the chance to check him out as well. This was the first time she was seeing him wearing a kaftan, not even on Fridays. And it was sky blue in colour. Despite Aisha loving the colour of the sky, especially when the night dried up its colour from the canvas and daytime began splashing its own colours, she had never loved sky blue like she had loved it on Nasir.

“You look beautiful, Aisha.” “You look so handsome, Dr.” They spoke at the same time and smiled at each other.

He shook his head and rubbed his fingers on his eyes. “But seriously, are you the one? Are you sure you aren't a run away hurul ayn?”

This time, Aisha laughed. She liked this side of Dr more. The side of him that spread humour all over the place. She loved how he looked at her as if she was the only thing that mattered in this world and the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, but nonetheless, she liked this side more.

“Yes, I'm the one. But sincerely speaking, I was shocked too. Thank you for your compliment, wear kaftan often please.” She smiled at him, and he knew it was her way of saying she liked him more in the dress.

“Only if I'd have you been decked up here everyday. But wait, then I won't be able to see the Billion Dollar smile with your naturally sparkling eyes. I prefer the natural you, but by Allah I love this side of you tenfold.”

She laughed even harder this time, and he watched as she glowed under the dim illuminating light of the moon. He was sure if she was to be walked onto the sky, sit beside the moon, more than a billion of the living humans would say she was more brighter than the moon and she glowed even more beautiful.

“You're just confused, you don't even know what you want. We should leave, Mama might have been waiting.”

He looked ahead at the road and then smiled while he ignited the car and they drove off. There were minutes of silence before he briskly turned to look at her and he smiled. “I saw your letter  I read it and ouch, it was heart melting.”

She laughed and shook her head. All the words she had written raced back to her in a second, and she felt overwhelmed. She wasn't that visible and see through, was she? She wished she wasn't.

“Don't even ask me about it, I won't tell. In fact, I already forgot about what happened then.”

He chuckled outwardly, “Just how do you know I'm going to ask you about the dream?” He looked at her through his peripheral view while his hands clutched the steering wheel he wished would turn into a part of her body. May be her hands, that would be sweet. Her face would make him dance up to the moon. And if it happened to be her lips...well, it would be the end of discussion.

“Because I've reread the letter in my head and saw there wasn't anything significant in it other than the dream. Sadly, I've already forgotten about it.” She made a face with a small pout, looking so much like one of the disney princesses. And just like she wished to hide away from the world together with him, Nasir wanted to take her with him to a place only the two of them would live.

“What about the part you said I was the best thing that has ever happened to you? And how you want to hide away from this world and would love it more if it was with me, and also...”

Her loud scream stopped him in track, while she closed her eyes with her palms. When she noticed he had stopped, she looked at him with nearly frightened eyes. “I wrote all that right? How about we you shut up and never say a word out of our letters again? You can't be embarrassing me like this, Dr!”

He laughed and swerved the steering while to the left until he parked at the parking lot residing the hall the event was to take place. They could see people walking in and out of the hall and music already blasting through the walls.

“What? But I thought you wrote them and we can discuss them between us. Only you and I?”

“No! They're things I can never voice out. A rule, things written in letters stays in letters.” She looked squarely at him, and he shuddered under that electric intense gaze.

“Okay, Aisha. Things written in letter's stays in letters. A rule, a very strict one. I can write whatever I can never voice out. And it stays there, never to be mentioned between us? Like it never happened?”

“Yes, like the words were never written, Dr.”