•Aaliyah

What would've happened if roses weren't red and violet's weren't blue? Maybe things would've been so much more different, including you.

If there were less evil people to account for the masses, maybe, the world would've been a better place.

That rhymed a lot more than I anticipated it to be but it's deeper than you could ever think.

You could be a rose and I a violet but the only thing that differentiates us as human beings is what we have in our hearts.

So be kind and even your act of kindness can be used to account for the masses.

~Fari.

This was an excerpt from 'Aaliyah to the world'. He must've read it. But wait, was this his Trump card?

Was he trying to get me to have mercy on him?

He must be crazy then. Now he was wants to play the victim and make feel bad.

Reverse psychology doesn't work on this lady here!

Could it be that not all love stories were great enough to withstand the trivialities of this life?

Crashes, tumbles, breaks and do overs. But others were able to survive so what did Hamza and I do to deserve all the problems in our lives?

I have no answer, he's as clueless as I am and together we formed the most broken dynamic duo of the century. A joke to Romeo and Juliet.

For a few moments I want to forget as today is my day. My dream came true.

After almost 5 months of writing I gave birth to 'Aaliyah to the World'.

What can say? Junaid's death dealt me a mighty blow but I was able to rise up and be productive.

This book was written as an autobiography but released as a novel and it shall be revealed today. Story of my life, story of my pending death...

It was a miracle that it was good enough to hit anyone's book store.

Today I was invited on a talk show called 'Arewa Smarts' which was to be aired on Arewa 24 at exactly 18:00PM and I wouldn't wish for any of my family members to miss this moment with me.

Hamza was supposed to be here to support me but he was nowhere to be found. He left the house this morning and since then I hadn't heard from him.

Uncle Hakeem and Aunty Asmau were all the way in Santorini but they promised to watch it on YouTube.

This is going to be my first interview since the one I was invited to two years ago after I published my first poem anthology in Dubai.

"Sannun ku da dawowa wannan sabon shirin Arewa smarts. Ni ce taku Afnan Jibril kuma tare da ni..." She smiles at me, "Hajiya Aaliyah Mujib Mamman. Ita ce ta rubuta wani littafi mai suna 'Aaliyah to the World'. Na ga shine matasan yanzu suke yawan karantawa."

"Hajiya Aaliyah please introduce yourself then tell us about the book."

"Hello. Good evening everyone. I'm Aaliyah Mujib Mamman, the writer of Aaliyah to the world. There's not much about me. I'm obsessed with reading novels and for a while I got bored then I decided to write my own. It was initially written as an autobiography but later on I decided to turn it into a novel."

"Wow, that's interesting!  But I know that can't be all. Tell us more. Your age, are you single or married? How many kids do you have?"

I don't want to talk about Junaid!

I cleared my throat, blinked back the tears and used a few seconds to get a hold of myself before speaking.

"I'm 24. I don't have any kids but I'm married."

"Who is the lucky man?"

I smiled weakly, almost turning bitter like my sweet turned sour marriage, "I prefer to keep my marriage life out of the limelight so I'd like to skip this question."

She nodded, "That's understandable. So tell us what motivated you to write."

"There's..." I paused, wishing for a second that Aunty Raliya and Nadiya would be watching this, "So much, a lot of factors. My adolescence life being the major then my adulthood."

"Can you tell us all about it?"

"Sure, why not?" I wrapped both hands together so that the presenter wouldn't notice how fidgety I was, "Did you ever wish that you could grow a few years older? Just to earn respect from people, especially your parents and other family relations."

"At 19, I lost both my parents. Who would've thought that my own blood would betray me? After everything, they had the guts to try and control my life. That brings me back to my previous question. At 20, shouldn't I be in school trying to complete my education?" I asked calmly.

"Sadly, those people are the reason I was at home sulking. I just wished I was older then so I could make decisions without an elder coming in or making me review it when I'm sure it's for my own good."

"My life was sad. But I knew there was someone out there living a worse life. Soon, I gave up. All I said to myself was 'a few more years' and a year later, an opportunity presented itself. I remembered my father had an account created for me. It was a savings account only I and my parents knew about. He used to say anything can happen to anyone at anytime so he told me I could reach out to the bank at a time he and my mother were no more."

"It was a lot of work but I got it anyways. I wish this was relateable so I'd be able to grieve with someone. I was forced to grow up and take the wheels of my life without warning. So you see, my wish to grow a few years older came true. In a way. I learnt something from all this, sometimes, it's not what you wish for that's always good for you."

"How about your husband? How has he helped you get over this passage in your life?" She implored.

"My husband has tasted another flavour of pain, different from mine. We both couldn't relate. All we could do was find a way to share each other's anguish which was the love we showered upon each other. He taught me the meaning of the word 'hustle'. If you know, you know." I laughed curtly, knowing no one actually knew what Hamza really went through.

"What can I say? My story is a long and sad tale but I wouldn't change it for the world. It strengthened my Iman and made me the strong person I am today."

"But why isn't there an epilogue like in most stories?" She questions.

"It doesn't need one." I stated, but I could see it wasn't enough for her and the viewers probably, "My story-our story, doesn't have an end. It continues to unfold and teach us new things everyday till the angel of death comes knocking on our door."

"People evolve, we all change. The good will arrive and depart with the bad, and so, the sadness will end and happiness will revolve around our beautiful lives. It's all about salat and how we try to please Allah. The Almighty!"

"I wouldn't want to make this a mini sermon so I'll end it here. I'd be willing to have this discussion on another day."

"She's a sayyidda too. Masha Allah! There's one last question for you before we take a break."

"I'm all ears."

"Your title has erupted an argument among your the readers. Please can you tell us why you gave it such a name."

"To be honest I was looking for something authentic. I wanted to name it something people hadn't seen. Whenever I told someone I was writing a new story they'd asked for the title and when I told them, they'd ask why not Aaliyah against the world or Aaliyah for the world. It used to make me angry but later I understood that they'd never understand until they read it."

"Basically it was how the world viewed me. How everyone around me looked at me. From my family to my friends. What they saw in me. My weaknesses, my flaws and my strengths that they didn't want to show they ever noticed. I have a question for you too." I laughed.

"She has turned to the presenter! Ok Mrs Mamman ask whatever you please."

"What do you think makes the world go round?"

She looked at nothing in particular but nodded in thought, "The constant act of betrayal? Money? Love?!"

I shook my head fervently and grinned, "No. I like to say a little fit of smiles and hidden cries."

"How so?"

"It's basically our lives. How we interact with our peers. The celebration of a winner and neglect of a social insubordinate. They say success has many father's but failure is an orphan. With life there is a fifty-fifty chance for everything. Look at it this way, it's either a win-win or a lose-lose situation."

"Don't use probability to measure your chances in life though. All I'm saying is there's either a right or wrong so it depends on what happens to you. We all have our moments. Favourable times happen to be when we're all smiling, laughing and the ill-boding periods, our most appalling."

"Well, it's how you look at it. Life is a passage of time. I see us all as time travelers just that we don't have the power to control the occurrences. It's all about life! Before you talk about love and betrayal." I released a breathe I didn't know I was holding.

I'd always wanted to say all these to listening ears that'd make use of it or come to an understanding of what the world really was to me; Aaliyah!

Now it was the world to Aaliyah.

Miss Afnan clapped, smiling, "This was beautiful. I've learnt so much and I hope you all did. We'll have to take a short break."

She waved at the screen before getting off the chair and I followed suite.

We went backstage for a drink before the make up artist came to touch up our make up. A few minutes later, we return back to our position, behind the cameras.

It saddened my heart to look behind the cameras and still not find Hamza watching. I know he must be glued to our TV watching this but it would've meant more if he was here.

After our argument this morning, he has refused to speak to me. He even left the house. I thought he'd quit being angry after a few hours because he seemed to always have a soft spot for me. Whenever we fought he always apologised despite how angry he would be but he didn't even call me so I didn't expect a message.

I don't know how to react to this evolution in my life.

Now it's not Aunty Raliya, uncle Hakeem or Nadiya. It's just Hamza and he's breaking my heart. I still love him but his past always has something funny to humiliate me with.

"Welcome back. We're still with Hajiya Aaliyah and on this next segment she'll be answering questions  from beneficiaries her NGO 'Lilly Helps' has been able to reach out to." She turns to me, "Are you ready?"

I nod without uttering anything.

She takes that as affirmation and returns her gaze to the iPad in her hand.

"So, the first person is Miss G. She said we should make her anonymous. Hello Miss G. Can you hear me?"

"Yes." She sniffs, "I can hear you. Good evening to you all. Mrs Aaliyah I wanted to tell you thank you so much for helping me and my children."

"You're welcome. How are the kids? I'm glad I could be of help."

The prompter was mouthing out some words to Miss Afnan. Some I caught and the rest looked like gibberish. All I understood was 'be fast'.

The next caller was a bit shy. Her voice was barely audible, I blame it on the networks service provider.

Her name was Aminat. All I remembered was her telling me how much she loved reading my book.

"I'd like to say something before we take the next call."

"Go ahead." She smiled expectantly.

I looked at the camera, "I'd like to say thank you to the first two who I just spoke to and for the incoming callers I want to urge you to forget that this a formal setting. I'd like you all to speak to me as if you're in the midst of your friends. Tell me a little about yourselves and if you have problems you'd like to share, please don't hesitate to."

"You've heard what she has to say. Please let us know if you have any problems. Don't bother about your identity. All this will be anonymous." Miss Afnan said.

Miss G and Aminat called back and spoke to me and for the first time, they were being genuine.

Aminat is an 18 year old girl. She told us about how her parents maltreated her. She revealed her plans of running away but we begged her not to then promised to get the human rights commission to handle her case.

Miss G was next. Her story is quite peculiar. She was in a gang that has refused to let her leave. Her first child managed to abscond but her second son stayed to fight for his mother. At first, she didn't want to reveal her location but she realized afterwards that without that we couldn't help her so she spilled. She was in Abuja but she lived in the outskirts; Lugbe.

The next was a Mrs Haneefa Dauda.

Wait, Haneefa Dauda is my estranged bestfriend!

"Good evening I'm Haneefa Dauda. I want start by apologizing to someone very dear to me. She has been my best friend since childhood but I'm not sure if she still is."

I knew it was me.

"She has been very loyal and supportive but I pushed her away when she needed me the most. I want her to know that I was sent to the village by my parents. They left me in the hands of my father's brothers and they married me off to a sixty year old man that died a week after. They called me a witch and banished me from the village. I came back to the city and my parents rejected me." She coughed and continued.

"Sorry. A man approached me one day and told me he wanted to marry. He was the nicest person I'd ever met in my life. I trusted him. At the beginning, the marriage was blissful until a few weeks later where he started staying out late and once I complained to him, he started to hit me till I bruised. There was no one to tell. My best friend had her problems too so I kept it all to myself. I apologise once again. I just hope she'll be able to get to me before my husband turns himself to a widower."

Before I could say anything the line went dead.

I wanted to cry for her but for myself more. Whose life was worse?

I made a mental note to ask Miss Afnan for Haneefa's number.

"Hello who are we speaking too?" Miss Afnan asked.

"I'm Basma." A tiny voice answered.

"How are you today?" I asked.

"I'm fine. I have..." She trailed off, "A secret. I married a cultist and he would threaten me with death whenever we fought and I told him I'd tell my parents. He warned that they'd be dead on my account so I remained silent for five years. Till the day he actually killed my parents. I decided to just tell everyone so that they'd know my story even if I was going to die at the end of the day."

"Where do you live?"

"I live in Zaria."

"I'm sorry about all the things that have happened to you. We'll be sure to take on your case in a few days. Just try to stay safe until we get there."

The last person was a woman named Cindy. Her case was also gang related just that she wasn't a member like Miss G. The gang members raped her a few nights ago after breaking into the store she was sleeping in.

I had a notepad that I wrote down everything in so I'd remember to reach out to everyone I'd met today. Both those I had already been in contact with before and the new ones especially Haneefa.

"And that was it. See you on the next episode of Arewa smarts. Goodnight and thank you for watching."

****

I came back exhausted. The house was quiet when I walked in. Not even the sound of the TV could be heard.

I got into the kitchen and heard Hamza talking on the phone. He stood against the counter with one of his hands in his pocket.

"I don't know what to do again. She's driving me crazy. I've apologised several times and she has refused to accept my apology. Bilal help me please!"

"He can't help you this time."

He turned and looked at me, flummoxed.

"For how long have you been there?"

"Long enough to know that you still don't deserve my forgiveness."

He came forward and knelt down before. Some time ago, this used to be cute but now this has become a method of acquiring forgiveness from me whenever he did me wrong.

This has become a mock pose. It reminds me of the times I'd forgiven not once, but a thousand times.

Hamza would do something, I'd willingly forgive after Bilal talks to me but this time was going to be different. I wanted him to learn to realize his mistakes. He needed to be punished and the only way was to force him to face his problems that regarded me with all manner of seriousness.

His past was never a problem until the girls started popping out of every corner or their family member's coming to avenge their daughters or sister's.

"What do you want me to do? I've begged, I've talked to different people just so that they could convince you to speak to me."

"You still don't understand! You still haven't seen the error. Everytime you do something stupid I accept it because of my derf loyalty to you. Recently I found out about one of your past escapades that came back to haunt you. The old me would have given you another chance but this has gone too far. I need to punish you a little more."

"Think about your sisters! How would you feel if someone did that to them? We're going from one problem to another. One mistake after the other. Please tell me if I'm doing something wrong so I'll change. I thought marrying you would be a blessing but this has turned to a punishment."

He held my hands and started crying like a child.

I almost forgave him but the enraged  devil in me scorned the idea so much. I had reduced to nothing but a mini Shrek crying with snot gliding down each nostril, my eye shadow that had already been soaked with tears had me looking like Frankenstein's bride as well.

At a point I thought we were falling out of love but then again I knew we would've left each other a long time ago if that was the case.

So, what was this mess we were living in?

"I'm sorry Aaliyah. Please forgive me! I was wrong. I've seen that now. How do I appease your anger? Tell me and I'll do it. Anything!"

I would've said to kill both of us but Allah would punish us for taking such a drastic decision so I'll just watch him break the same way he left the house without saying a word to me this morning. He needed to know that I was human too and I had feelings just like he did.

"There's nothing you can do for me now. I doubt if I'll be able to forget but with time I could forgive. Just release my hands." I tried to pull my hands out of his hands that were enclosing mine in a firm hold, "I need space."

"You don't need space my zinariya. You need me. I'm here for you but you're pushing me away. Was this what we signed up for? Quarrels upon quarrels."

I hissed despondently, "You don't understand, do you?"

"It's not that I don't understand. I don't want to understand."

He rose up from the floor, still holding my hands in place.

"Malam I need to be in solitary confinement! I don't need anyone at this point."

"You don't know what you're saying. We need each other. I need you!"

"I'm not sure I need you right now. You happen to be of different personalities. It's like you're bipolar. You hid your past from me and lied to me about it every time something came up then the next minute you're telling me you love me with all your heart, promising me to always say the truth at all times."

"Aaliyah it's you or no one else! If only you knew the power you had. My heart belongs to you. Yes, I lied but I'm deeply sorry. If I could turn back the hands of time I wouldn't have even uttered the first lie."

"I called you a liar, you called me a thief. We were all sinners. It's nothing.

Lies were always meant to be said eventually, promises, were also meant to be broken. If you make a promise that you can't fulfill that makes it a lie too. Theft, what is the worst that could happen? You know, a time machine wouldn't be needed if people just made the right decisions." I angrily pulled my hands out of his and turned to the staircase.

He was hot on my trails too, still begging. The crocodile tears had stopped rolling.

I rushed into our room to lock it quickly but he was faster. We got in at the same time.

He locked the door once we were both in then he put it into the pocket of his sweatpants. Right now I just wanted to rip my hair out of my scalp.

I sat on the floor with my back to the wooden edge of the bed, feet's outstretched, and he did the same.

"I stole your heart and you stole mine. We were both going insane with this whole idea of gaining sanity. I wanted to find a reason to keep you, you wanted to find a reason why you were still with me. That's how I see things now. Talk to me Aaliyah. Tell me what's in your mind." He turned to me, putting his hands on my hand that layed on the carpeted floor.

I sighed, wiping the tears that had stained my entire face with mascara which was now creating a tattoo on my hand too, "You stole my right to the truth all those years, I stole your will to love another woman so even if I left you, you'd remain single, similar to how I'd spend the rest of my life if we ever parted ways. Same cycle, same sins. I broke you, you broke me. How many square one's does it take to get a heart to rest in peace?" I chocked on the newly formed tears before pausing for a while, "We try to mend the broken pieces only for them to shatter worse than before it was pieced together. Now that there are missing pieces where do we find them? In different relationships or living a life of tolerance till death." I turned to look at him this time.

I wanted to wipe his tears and tell him that I'd forgiven him but he would never learn if I didn't show him that I wasn't to be trampled upon.

"Thank you." He said and I frowned,  confused, "I'm grateful for your honesty. I apologise for not  being able to do that. I used to think we'd live long till we reached old age, together. Now I really see us drowning and no one can save us even if they could. Look where the alluring sea of love got us." He laughed and I joined him.

Cheers to a bad marriage!

His laughter was that contagious. This reminds me of the time his laughter used to make me blush or feel warm on the inside. Fizzy and unstable, just like a secondary school girl.

Times like this I used to wish Hamza cheated on me once so I'll have an excuse to leave. I would've had a reason but something is attaching me to this house-this man.

Nobody will understand. We've both lived our dreams out. What now? Nothing interests us again-not even the heavy love we garnered.

That's life. Like mathematics, it had one coefficient; Relationships, like English language, so many mistakes and complications; love.

This was a breakdown but how do you explain this when it gets beyond complicated and you're struggling to keep everything afloat? That's where the vibe dies out.

I don't want to try to keep us together. I want to keep us together and if that's not possible then I may be willing to forfeit whatever it is that we had to be able to approach a state of candid happiness.

"A divorce is what we both need." We chorused after a few short breaths.

I didn't have to love him to be in love.

Just maybe, the imperfectly perfect couple, Hamliyah wasn't meant to be after all...
________________________

THE END!

This chapter is dedicated to akramm2050 I'll send you a long note of appreciation 😂❤️

Appreciation will come forth as the final page!

4K+ words guys! This was the longest chapter in this book. I hope reading it from the beginning to this point was all worth it🥀

This may be/not be the end. If you want to find out follow me to the next book in the 'world series'.

Before we close the curtains, I'd like you guys to send in your questions so I'll be able to answer them in the next chapter. They could be about anything regarding the book, characters you didn't really understand and me, of course.

Thank you guys for reading up till the end. I'm very grateful. Ma'asalam my beautiful people❤️

We shall meet again in Basma likes Fendi!

I can't believe I'm doing this again😭❤️

~Aisha Safiyanu🥀