Monday, 25 December 2017

Tissue Hearts



Episode Three


Rasheed’s Point of View
“Good Morning Nigeria. It’s another beautiful morning. We thank God Almighty for making us witness another great day. It’s a great day to achieve your dreams and aspirations. Call me and tell us your wish this morning…”

“Hey you”. Waliyah entered and slammed the door.

“Oh sis, why do you keep banging into my room without notice? What if I wasn’t putting on clothes?”

“You’re still a small boy Rasheed”. She said, standing hands akimbo.

“Really? What if I do the same to you?”

“You wouldn’t dare,” She wriggled her eyebrows, sitting beside me, “What’s up with you these days? 

You’re acting strange like there’s a woman in your life”.

“Yes. I do have a woman in my life”.

“Who?”

I pointed to the radio beside us. Nadia was still hosting the breakfast show.

“Nadia Thanni?” She gasped.

“Yes”.

“How come? You met her one-on-one?”

“Yes”. I replied in affirmative.

“She’s a celebrity Rasheed. I don’t want you involved with someone like that”.

“She’s not. She lives an anonymous life. Only those that truly recognize her voice will get to link her physically. Radio presenters are different from actresses and models”.

“You’re just trying to prove a point. The fact that you love her show doesn’t translate to loving her as a person”.

“Why do you not always respect my opinion? I’m serious about her”.

“You’re not. Anyways, Yasmin is here to see you. Please be nice. This lady has tried a lot on you. It’s not easy to see a beautiful lady that would scoop so low to express her feelings”. Waliyah said, dragging me out of the room.

Yasmin was as usual in our living room, lips filled with bold red and she flashed her usual smile.

“Hi Rasheed”.

“Hello”. I frowned, raking my messy hair.

“How are you?”

“I am fine!” I yelled, entering the kitchen.

I needed to get away from my sister and the lady that keeps pestering my life.

Mom was busy in the kitchen frying fish and plantain. It lightened my mood as I perceived the lovely aroma.

I hugged her from behind. “Momma”.

“Rasheed?” She smiled, turning back, “You’re here again to hunt for food”.

“Not really. I was trying to get away from someone”.

“Yasmin?”

“Yes”.  I replied, settling on a chair.

My mom was someone I confided in so much. She was more life a housewife, though she taught in a primary school located in our neighbourhood.

My father was the stern type. He worked as an engineer in an Oil and gas company and we felt terrified whenever he was around.

“What is it with her again?” She held the frying spoon and stared at me.

“I feel miserable. She’s pestering my life and my sister keeps encouraging her”.

“Maybe she feels she’s good for you”.

“I don’t feel that way. It’s my life and I’m entitled to my opinion. I don’t love Yasmin and I never will”.

“You’re really angry”.

“Yes I am mom”.

“Don’t worry dear. I’ll talk to Waliyah. She should know that you’re a full grown man”.

“Yes mom, please do so”.

“I hope friend plantain and fish can calm you down”.

“It will mom”. I grinned, reaching for a plate.



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