BEST FRIENDS

Chapter2

Ammar...
"The rain's gentle footsteps shattered the silence, weaving a soothing melody that enveloped the morning. Lying in bed, I closed my eyes and let the rain's symphony wash over me. The droplets danced like an elegant piano piece, gradually unfolding across the morning sky.

As I rose from bed and stepped onto the balcony, I gazed out at the raindrops, my hands tucked into my jeans pockets. A small smile crept onto my lips - the kind that comes from practicing happiness until it becomes a habit. I'm trying to be a person who can't cry, but some memories linger, refusing to be erased.

"The most terrible word in the world is not separation, but distance. I've tried to pretend that the past doesn't matter, but I couldn't do it. I've attempted to forget her, but the memory buried deep in my heart refuses to be erased. I'm waiting for her, though I'm unsure how much courage I need. It takes far more courage than just saying "I love you" three words. Not everyone is willing to wait, and not everyone is worth waiting for. Yet, I'm waiting for her.

Anyway, how much friendship can withstand the test of waiting? Yesmeen, even though distance may separate us, it's the thought of you that cannot be separated. Whenever you gaze up at the bright moon in the night sky, know that my thoughts are with you, faint yet scattered like moonlight in front of your window.

"You know how small the world is? It's like, when I turn around, I never know who I'll meet. And yet, it's also incredibly big - when I turn around, I never know who will disappear. I know the pain of being separated from my best friend. I'm aware she's mad at me for not telling her about my move to Abuja, but it was unexpected for me too, when my father got a promotion.

It's been five years now without her, but I can't shake off her memory and thoughts from my mind. You know why I love the rain season? It's because that's the day I met her, on a rainy day when I gave her a ride home, and our friendship began.

"The winds howled fiercely, and a voice whispered in my ear, 'Who are you?' I smiled, taking a deep breath, and replied, 'I'm Muhammad Ahmad Abdulkadir, known as Ammar. My father, Ahmad Abdulkadir, is a renowned EFCC officer, and my mother is Hajiya Aisha. I have two siblings, Ya Farouq and Yusrah; Ya Farouq is a businessman.' I chuckled, realizing I forgot to mention my age. 'I'm 27 years old now, but when I met Yesmeen, I was 22 or 23 – time flies! Currently, I work as a medical doctor.'

As I stood on the balcony, lost in thought, the rain began to fall gently. Suddenly, a knock at the door broke the silence. I walked out from the balcony and made my way to the door, where our maid stood with her head bowed, greeting me respectfully. 'Your mother is calling you, sir,' she said.

"I nodded and slipped on my sleepers, walking out to meet her. "Mami, you called?" I asked, reaching her side.

"Muhammad, are you still angry with me?" she asked, looking at me with concern. I stared down at my feet, wondering why she thought I am angry. "Why would I be angry with you, Mami? I thought everything you did is right."

"Muhammad, why are you saying this?" she asked, her voice filled with confusion. "You know I would never do anything to harm you. What's the problem with marrying Ameera? She's a nice and calm girl."

I stood up, and she hold my hand, searching my face for answers. "Muhammad, what's wrong? Don't you like the marriage?" She sounded frustrated with my silence. "I don't like this silent treatment, Muhammad. Please say something.

I mumbled under my breath, "It's not like I have a say in this anyway."

She looked at me pleadingly. "No, son, please say something. I don't understand why you're resisting this marriage. You didn't tell me you want to marry someone else, did you?"

I sighed, feeling frustrated. "And I don't like Ameera, Mami. I only dated her to pass the time, and now you're all pushing for this marriage. Why me, Mami? Ya Farouq isn't married yet, so why are you rushing me?"

"Muhammad, why are you so dumb and can't understand things?!" I stood up, frustrated, , "Mami, I think I've had enough."

I felt like she is treating me like a child, and I am fed up. "I'm 27 years old, not 10! I'm big enough to handle myself and choose my own life partner, but she always treat me like a kid. She only want me to marry Ameera because of her selfish interests."

I walked out of the house, needing some fresh air. The rain had stopped, but I enjoyed the cool weather. I sat outside, deep in thought, trying to make sense of my life. Just as I was getting comfortable, I heard a car honk, signaling someone's arrival. I quickly looked up to see my father's car pulling into the driveway. I immediately stood up and rushed back inside, hoping to avoid him. I have been dodging him for two weeks, and I didn't want to face him now.

You see, he wanted to send me to work somewhere I didn't want to go, and I had been avoiding the conversation. I knew he would be upset if he sees me, so I quickly retreated to my room, hoping to escape the confrontation.

"Abbi is a very strict person, unlike Mami, who always wants our happiness and treats us like kids. I watched him from my balcony, and unexpectedly, he looked up, something he never did, and our eyes met. The look he gave me made my stomach churn with anxiety. I quickly left my spot and went down to his place.

"Abbi, ina wuni

uwarka da ina wuni, Muhammad," he said, "when did we become mates? You're in this house, but you keep telling me you aren't."

"Abbi, I just came back today; you can also ask Mami," I pleaded, hoping Mami would intervene. But she gave me a stern glare before dismissing me from there. I sighed in relief as I stood up, but my dad had to stop me.

"Get ready, I've booked an early flight for you to the USA. You'll handle some of my meetings there, so get ready ASAP," he said, his tone firm and authoritative.

"Abbi, today? I groaned, standing up in frustration. "Can't they just let me rest for once? It's always 'Muhammad, Muhammad' - I'm exhausted."

I recalled studying medicine, but Abbi, being his controlling self, forced me to handle some of his business ventures. Now, with his EFCC work and other dealings, he's pushing me to take on even more. Ya Farouq studied business, but why must I be the one to handle everything? If I complain, they'll just say I'm lazy and need to get rid of that habit.

I packed a few clothes and essentials, feeling resigned, and ambled out. Abbi handed me some complimentary cards, and I took them, still feeling frustrated. I haven't even had a break, and Mami made coffee, knowing I dislike it when the maid made it.

As soon as Abbi dropped me off at the airport, I walked in and bumped into a clumsy girl. My phone slipped out of my hand, and the coffee I was holding spilled all over my shirt. I was about to pick up my phone when our heads collided. The girl's carelessness is testing my patience, and I was about to shout at her. But when I stood up and stared at her innocent yet gorgeous face, I restrained myself. I shoved her aside and walked towards the plane, trying to composed myself.

After a few hours, we landed, and I went straight to the apartment. The first thing I did is pray, and then I collapsed onto the bed, exhausted, and fell asleep.

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