Omo my drafts will soon end o😭
Wahala😂

SAADATU'S POV.

KANO, NIGERIA.

"Sa'adah, can you take this to the Dr. Victor please, he's on the fourth floor and is need of it urgently. I need to handle an errand for Dr. Femi." A colleague of mine, also doing her IT, asked with a pleading look, one that we both understand well.

A slight sigh escaped my lips, saddened that my plan to escape going on an errand for anyone today has to be ruined as I am about to do this favor for a camaraderie. "Alright," I plastered a smile on my face as I took the file from her, then got off the chair I was determined to stay on and be a couch potato.

"Thank you," She offered me a smile of gratitude, before she hastily rushed out to yet again fulfill another errand for another doctor here.

I could not help but watch the spot she disappeared off to, feeling pity for the poor lady.  Of all of us doing our IT under this department, and there is a total of nine, she is the one that gets pushed the most because she is the easiest, and boy does she go on a lot of errands.

After these first few weeks here, I have soon realized my mistake of coming to this hospital. I should have gone to AKTH or Murtala or something. I thought because it is a renowned private hospital, things would be better here but oh boy how wrong was I. Because these people seemed to treat us more like their errand boys and girls, and we are tasked with doing petty things like carrying their stuff, handling their papers, and passing information from one person to another instead of doing what we are actually here for.

It is annoying, and I am not that patient. Na kusa zagin wani. I am just holding myself back, kar ace daga zuwana an fara daru dani but soon enough, I will do something I won't regret.

With another sigh, I made my way out of the lab, and made my way towards the elevator to head to the fourth floor as we are on the second. There are a total of five floors in the massive hospital, its size being the second after the main hospital in Abuja but their HQ is in Cairo. It is apparently owned by the prominent Abd Al-Rasheed family whom trended by the way two years ago when their son, Aslam married a daughter of the Al Sayed family.

I do not know much about the wedding really since I could not care less then, but a course mate of ours said, if I am not mistaken, her cousin's neighbor's aunt's co-wife is a close friend of the bride's mother, and the wedding was one to make society papers, and it did. People wey do dinner in Cairo after the events in Nigeria, ai da sauqi ma tunda ba irin su Maldives aka tafi ba. 

My brows drew in after about a minute, when the elevator is yet to arrive. I check the number to see it still stuck where it earlier, on the third floor, and it has not moved for about a minute. Just as I reached my hand to tap the button again, a nurse passing by noticed, then she said.

"The elevator is broken," She informed me, with an apologetic smile. "You have to take the stairs."

"Fuck my life," I whispered, glancing down at the heels I am wearing today. Looking up, I offered her an appreciative smile. "Okay, thank you." With a nod, she walked away, having saved me from standing there and looking like an idiot all over.

Glancing at the file in my hand, I weighed my options, whether to ditch it or to actually fulfil the favor. I eventually caved in, because I did promise to do it, and who knows, it might be really important.

And so ladies and gentlemen, was how I found myself climbing up two floors of stairs in six inch heels--so much for wearing atampha and wanting to have a fashion parade because I feel pretty today. And to be honest, I am not even a fan of heels, but for some reason I decided to wear it today gashi zan bawa mutanen qauyen mu labari ai. Fashion ko wahala dai ma?

After one floor, and looking up to see the stairs waiting for me, I decided, omo, I no fit. So, I leaned down, took off the heels, and ascended the stairs barefoot with the papers in one hand, and my heels in the other, panting with my veil slumped to my shoulders, but my head tie still thankfully in place.

Thank God I did not wear that darn labcoat around today, I would have no doubt looked as though dani aka ji yaqin qauyen mu. Though, the stairs aren't that dirty really, they do well to keep the place clean.

By the time I actually made it to the fourth floor, all I could think about was cursing the entire generation of Doctor Victor yake ko Victory? Ai ko failure ne he no go heaven because I am darn sure he knows the elevator is not working and still had my poor comraderie take these flight of stairs.

Fixing my veil and putting on my heels, despite the slight wound I seemed to have developed on the spot where the heel strap it behind my leg, I pushed through the pain and stepped into the fourth floor through the stair case door, putting on my resting bitch face and acting as if I did not just climb two floors of stairs like a homeless woman now acting all suave kaman zani fashion parade.

Upon reaching Doctor Victor's office, I was informed that the man had already gotten off work and he said to just bring the folder again tomorrow for he was not in need of it—information I could have gotten twenty minutes ago.

"Alright, thank you." My lips slanted into a fake, wide smile directed towards the nurse that informed me, before she walked away, carrying on with her task.

Folding my lips in, I turned around, and watched as she had disappeared, making sure there was no one else close by before I kicked the heels off all around and silently screamed, frustration gnawing at me coupled with how sore my thighs feel.

Seriously? Seriously?? Seriously???

You see what I mean ba, this man won't see heaven. The minute he reaches heaven's doors, it will be locked right in his stupid face. Mtsww. Nonsense.

"E no go better for you, Dr. Failure. E no go better for your generation seff." I hissed again, resisting the urge to actually scream again, lest someone comes and actually deems me a mad woman which I cannot deny at this moment really.

Now all I can think of, is walking down those stairs. I admit, descending is way easier than ascending but still, I am too exhausted and too angry. I might actually scream in frustration if I take the stairs at this point.

My gaze then fell on the silver waiting chairs then—the kind that when you go somewhere and see, you immediately put in mind that you will sit tire. Dragging myself there, I slumped down, throwing my head and closing my eyes as I tried to get myself to calm down and rest before heading back.

But that rest was interrupted way too shortly when I heard footsteps I did not realize were there before. Opening my eyes, I was met with the sight of navy blue suit clad back reaching down to pick my heels, one after the other, and I felt blood rushing to my cheeks in embarrassment. To think I did not even think of picking them up after my little tantrum.

I slowly sat up, just in time the person turned around, I was met with the face of an unfamiliar man. He closed the distance between us, leaned down to place the shoes in front of me, before unfolding to his full height and offering me a smile. "I see you are still as short tempered as always," He let a small chuckle under his breath, one that merged with his words that I did not focus on. "Good to know." His voice, it was deep, and raspy but cool at the same time.

Rather, I was stunned for a second upon seeing him up close. I have always known there is a thing about tan skinned men, but this man is living proof that they might just be the most handsome set of men out there. From the expressive eyes with smile lines, down to the neatly trimmed light beard covered jaw that framed his lips and not to mention that snug suit—yup, definitely a black man straight out of an American fashion brand commercial.

But, it was not just the look that had me entranced. No, it was the gentle smile, I won't lie, my heart skipped a beat.

"Um, excuse me," I shook my head, looking away as I suddenly realized I have been staring longer than I shoulder. "I..." I reached out the scratch the spot beside my eyes, feeling embarrassed. "I am sorry about that. Thank you." I offered him a small, polite smile before leaning down to put on the heels, noticing the visible red and slightly bloody spots there.

Remind me never to wear heels again please.

Once I had the shoes on, I pushed myself to stand, then offered him one last smile. "I will get going now," With a slight nod, I made a move to turn around and walk away. However, just a few steps away, his voice came, making me halt.

"Should I be hurt that you do not recall me, Sa'adatu?" Believe me, if he did not say my name, I would have dismissed his statement as a pick up line. But, the minute I heard my name, I just had to turn around, just in time to see him staring at me with that soft smile of his still in place.

"Do I know you?" I arched a brow.

He chuckled. "So, you do not remember," He lamented, "I am so easy for you to forget huh?"

Like I said, if he did not say my name, I would have dismissed him right away because I hate it when instead of getting straight answers, a guy plays around like that. Just give me direct answer. Do I know you? Yes, or No. Is that so hard dan Allah?

My thoughts were halted midway when his voice came yet again, this time with the answer I wanted to hear.

"Here I am thinking you still had me in mind after saying we should meet again four years later," He teased. "Does your promise still stand? Will you take me serious now?"

At first, I still could not realize where his words were headed to, until it sank it and I began to place the pieces together. Promise? Four years later? I could not remember making any promises with anyone, but I do remember saying something like being asked four-years-later to someone, just to dismiss the issue as a whole.

It cannot be...

My eyes lit up as I stared at him again, and suddenly, the familiarity began to click in place. "No way..." My lips parted, "...Muhammad?!"

He grinned. "So, you remember me after all," Taking a few steps in my direction, he came to a stop at a reasonable distance, then his voice came yet again. "I am here to keep my promise of marrying you like I said I would four years ago."

Out of instinct, like the numerous times he had said the exact same thing, I repeated the exact answer I gave him four years ago, and now as well.

"You are not serious."

I cannot believe this. Muhammad is really back. Ikon Allah!

***

Su Saadatu our drama queen 😂😂😂

And we have a new character! We've met Muhammad ladies and gentlemen, any thoughts on the gentle dude 🙂

Her dry love life is taking an interesting turn don't you think?

A late night update because why not? Y'all should enjoy at least while I'm here suffering with 11 slides of endocrinology😭😭 God abeg whatever you do in life avoid medical school!! Run away from any allied medical course. Thank me later.

I have nothing much to say as I am supposed to be studying. But before I forget, I have one advice for y'all...

AVOID MEN!! No, in fact, BE WICKED TO MEN🤝 Yawwa. I have nothing more to say😂😂😂

Have a good night.

Love, Jannah Mia❤️