Clueless Love

While shopping Aunt Maria asks me something unexpected that throws me off guard.

“So, what is going on between my nephew and you?” she asks me, smiling sheepishly.

“I don’t understand what you mean, Aunt Maria,” I reply totally confused as to why she would ask that.

“Really? Because if I didn’t know better, I would say you guys are dating.”

“Oh My! Why would you say such a thing, Aunt Maria,” I say feeling shy and confused as to what made her think that. But maybe she thinks that because of how close Ismail and I are.

“Because of the way you treat each other.”

“And how do we treat each other?” I wonder if she has another reason and it’s not because Ismail and I are close.

“You treat each other like you are in love. You guys buy each other things when you go out, which is a sign you are thinking of one another while you are out. You are always happy when you see each other. And most especially, you are happy when the other is happy,” she says smiling softly at me.

“Aunt Maria, I don’t know…” I don’t know what to say because everything she said is true. And it has made me realise I have feelings for Ismail. Oh My God, I Have Feelings for Ismail. Oh My God, I Have Feelings for Ismail. So, Emma and Fatima were right. I do like Ismail. Ya Allah, what am I going to do? This is going to change so many things between us. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? Oh my God, what am I going to do? Then again, I don’t know if what I feel is love. I do accept I have feelings for Ismail, but ‘LOVE’ is a strong word. It also explains why I miss him when he is not around and why I love his company more than ever.

“I know this must be overwhelming for you. Take your time and process it all.” Aunt Maria pats me on the back. I don’t answer but nod my head and continue shopping in a daze.

I really don’t know what to do. How do I behave around Ismail now? Can he tell I like him from how I act? Should I change the way I act around him? Ya Allah, I am so confused. I don’t know what to do, but I know just the person to call to help me in my situation right now.

For the first time in a long time, I was happy to not see Ismail upon our return home from the store. Now that I have discovered my feelings for him, I don’t know how to behave around him. I have never been so happy to have a meeting moved up a day. So, before I lose my mind, I take the opportunity to call my mum using Facetime video-chat.Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

After a few rings, my mum answers. She looks beautiful like always.

“As salamu alaykum, mummy,” I greet, smiling at my mom through the face time call.

“Wa alaykumu salama, baby girl,” she responds smiling back. Waheeda is the younger version of my mom. If you see the two of them together you could mistake them for sisters, instead of mother and daughter. They look that much alike.

“How are you doing mummy?”

“I am fine dear, but I don’t have to ask to know something is wrong. What is making you sad?” she asks with concern showing all over her face.

“Mummy, I am having problems with my heart.”

“Are you sick or something?” she interrupts sounding confused and worried.

“No, mummy not that way. I mean, I have feelings for someone, and I don’t know what to do.”

“You mean you have feelings for Ismail, and you don’t know what to do about it?” my mother laughs softly.

“How did you know?” I am shocked she knows about Ismail.

“Madam, every time you call to check up on me, you must tell me something about him. Waheeda also told me. She suspects you guys like each other,” she says in a ‘you don’t say’ tone.

“See, that’s my problem. Everyone believes he likes me, but I am not sure. And now that I know how I feel, I don’t know how to act around him,” I say feeling very sad about the fact that he might not harbor the same feelings toward to me.

“I doubt that’s the case. But I understand where you are coming from. That’s why the only thing you can do is be yourself. Don’t change the way you are for anything. If he likes you, he probably likes you for who you are. So, be who you are, and in time you will know if he feels the same. Just don’t push it, love.”

“Thank you, mummy.”

“Anytime, dear.”

“Ma salam, (Goodbye) say ‘Hi’ to daddy and everyone at home,” I tell her waving goodbye.

“Ma Salam, (Goodbye) dear and I will,” she says waving back.

“Wait, mummy is that Umit?” I hear my younger brother ask in the background.

His name is Khalifa, he is 19 years old and studies in London but is home in Nigeria for the holiday period. He is light skinned, just over 6 feet tall, has a lean build and is a good-looking young man. I have two brothers. One is older and one is younger than me.

“Yes, it is me,” I answer him.

“Aha Umit, is that you looking all fresh and beautiful?” he teases taking the phone from my mom.

“What kind of an insult is that?” I say pretending to be angry, but actually quite happy to see him.

“I did not insult you. I was just saying you are looking fine these days,” he pouts faking a sad face.

“So, before I was not looking fine?” I tease trying to hide my smile while messing with my brother.

“Kai Umit, you see why I don’t like complimenting you,” he responds looking a bit frazzled.

“Haba, I know you mean well, I’m just teasing you. So how is school?” I giggle.

“School is fine.”

“Better read your books and study hard. You don’t want me to come to London and have to knock some sense into you.

“Don’t’ worry Umit, I am already doing that for you,” my older brother yells from the background, before coming into my line of view.

His name is Ibrahim. He is also 6 feet tall but has a more solid build with caramel colored skin and is handsome.

“Oga you dey house and I no know. Which kind brother you be. (Sir, you are at home, and I did not know. What kind of brother are you)” I say in Pidgin English. Ibrahim lives in London, that’s why I am shocked he is back home in Nigeria.

“Aunt must I dey tell you everything. (Sister, must I tell you everything.)” he replies using the same patois.

“Yes naw, you must dey tell me. (Yes, you have to tell me.)”

“Really, I did not know you took the role of my wife in my life,” he chuckles.

“I am not your wife. I am your sister. And it’s my right to know. Besides, if I don’t care who will,” I say quoting an old Dettol advert. “Anyway, how is life? How is work? How is everything?”

“Everything is fine, how about you? And I heard you got the Lamborghini you always wanted.”

“Yes, I got the car, but don’t tell daddy,” I grin.

“Okay, I won’t tell him. But you know he will soon find out, and… speak of him and he shall appear,” Ibrahim says when my father walks into the living room.

“Is that Umit you are speaking to?” my father asks stepping closer to the phone.

“Yes, daddy it’s me,” I wave at him.

“Aha! Umit, how are you doing dear?” he asks taking the phone from Ibrahim. I am the female version of my dad. He is dark-skinned, 6 feet tall, still has a fit and solid build for an older man and is still a very handsome man. It is easy to see where my brothers get their handsome looks from.

“I am fine daddy, how about you?”

“I am good, and how has your trip been going? Your mother said you are in Iceland right now.”

“Yes, I am, and it’s been going well.”

“That’s good Umit, and I heard you got the Lamborghini I refused to get for you.”

“Yes, I got the car,” I say with a cheeky grin. I can still remember him telling me to work for it and buy it myself. But I also pray he does not know I didn’t get it myself.

“That’s interesting because I also heard someone bought it for you,” he says looking very serious, making the smile on my face drop.

“Yessss,” I reply praying he does not complain about it. My dad does not normally have a problem with a guy buying something for me. What he might have a problem with, is a guy buying me a car worth half a million dollars.

“Hmmm, and what does this man do? Who is his father? Where is he from?” he demands with a scowl on his face, throwing various questions at me. He obviously does not yet know it was Ismail who got me the car.

“Why are you asking all these questions?” I have a suspicion I know why he is asking all these questions.

“I am asking because I need to know if he is a yahoo boy,” he says in a stern voice. A yahoo boy is a person who steals money from people online. It is the Nigerian term from internet fraud.

“Ahh! Daddy!” I say shocked that he would believe I would be involved with someone like that. I also understand it’s not every day a guy buys a car worth so much for a girl who he is not in a relationship with.

I am sure my father thinks maybe if he is a yahoo boy, he does not care how much he spends because it’s not his money. But that is not the case here. Although now I am seriously wondering why Ismail did buy me that car. Did he already like me back then, like everyone seems to think? I really don’t know the answer, but one thing I know for sure is Ismail does have a soft spot for me.

“Don’t aha me! Because if he is, you will return that car. I can’t have my daughter using a car gotten from stolen money.”

“There won’t be any need for that. Ismail is the one who got me the car,” I reassure him, feeling a smile coming to my face because he likes Ismail and so he won’t stress over the matter anymore.

“Really, why didn’t you say so straight away? If it’s that lovely boy that got you the car, then I don’t have a problem with it. He is a good man.” my father smiles approvingly.

“Yes, he is. So, no need to stress over it.”

“Yeah, it’s fine now.”

“Alright then bye. I would have said you should say hi to everyone, but I already spoke to everyone. So just give everyone a kiss for me, bye,” I say, blowing a kiss at the camera while waving.

“Bye Umit, we love you,” they all reply.

“I Love you guys too,” I say ending the call. I really love my family. They are everything to me. Without them I don’t think I would be where I am today. I am more than grateful to Allah for them.