—
With immense joy and happiness, I saw him leaning against the car he came to pick me up in because today we completed our secondary school education, and since I was in a boarding school, I was especially excited. However, I felt a terrible nervousness threatening to disrupt me. All the words I had carefully prepared to confess my heart’s secret seemed to fail me as I approached him, my heart pounding wildly. Even though fear and anxiety gripped me, I was determined to face everything to claim the one my heart desired. He was the one my heart had longed for since childhood—Yaya Abdulhakeem. But, alas! I had never confessed my feelings to him.
I spent the night contemplating how best to express my feelings. Ever since Abba told me over the phone that Yaya Abdul would be the one to pick me up, my mind had been in turmoil.
“Oyoyo, Yaya Abdul!” I exclaimed, hugging him from behind, dropping my bag in the process. He hadn’t even noticed my arrival as he was focused on his phone.
“Oyoyo, Heedaya,” he responded, gently pulling away from me, his eyes fixed on mine.
“Yaya Abdul,” I murmured, feeling a strange sensation at the way he called my name. It felt as if no one in the world could pronounce my name as beautifully as he did, giving each letter its rightful emphasis.
“Heedaya, all grown up and done with school,” he said, taking my hand and playfully pulling my nose. I closed my eyes for a moment before opening them again, my gaze settling on his handsome face, which always seemed new to me no matter how many times I looked at him. I reached out to take my bag, and he let go of my hand.
After we finished loading my belongings into the car trunk, I playfully complained that he had come late to pick me up, as most of my friends had already left. We said goodbye to those still waiting for their rides and got into the car, waving at them with fondness.
He started driving towards our hometown, Dutse. I had studied in Gumel, and as we drove, the car fell silent except for the hum of the air conditioner. He drove with a calm focus. I stole a glance at his face, my heart sinking at the realization that despite our closeness, I found it difficult to confess my love to him.
Yaya Abdul was my uncle’s son, and our families were neighbors. Since childhood, he had cared for me like a protective brother because he loved children. After my parents, no one in the world loved and cared for me as much as Yaya Abdul and Aunty Rabeea. Aunty Rabeea was my father’s half-sister, but we were very close despite having different mothers.
“Why so quiet today? Missing your friends already?” he asked, glancing at me briefly before returning his eyes to the road, flashing me a smile.
I forced a smile in return, but it barely reached my lips. My heart was too heavy with the words I longed to say.
“Yaya Abdul, I want to tell you something,” I said, my heart pounding.
He slowed the car slightly and looked at me before returning his focus to the road. “I’m listening.”
Silence followed. The words felt too heavy to utter. I was shy and nervous, but I knew this was my chance—just the two of us in the car, no one else. I had to say it today because I knew my father would soon arrange my marriage, just as he had done for my sister, Aunty Rabeea. It was better to have my choice ready than to be left waiting at home.
“You didn’t bring me any candy,” I blurted out instead, feeling frustrated with myself for chickening out.
“Heedaya, is it candy you’re worried about? You know you’re my right hand. I’ve prepared something special for you. I went to India recently, and I got you gifts to share with your friends. I just got back yesterday, but I insisted on picking you up myself,” he said with a smile that melted my heart.
A deep warmth spread through me. In my heart, I wished he had called me “my Heedaya.” Even though he didn’t mean it romantically, the way he called my name brought me immeasurable joy. I knew he cared about me—everyone in our family knew it. Since childhood, he had always been the one to comfort me whenever I cried. I would fall asleep on his shoulder, and he would carry me to bed. But what he didn’t know was that as I grew older, my affection for him had changed—I had fallen deeply in love with him.
But love for an uncle’s son? That wasn’t the ideal situation!
As we arrived in Dutse, I felt disappointed that I hadn’t mustered the courage to tell him how I felt. When we entered our massive house, I spotted Aunty Rabeea approaching with excitement. As soon as I stepped out of the car, I turned my back to her and pouted, pretending to be upset.
“Heedayata!” she called joyfully, embracing me, but I said nothing.
“Yaya Abdul, who upset my little princess?” she asked.
“It’s not me. You two are closer than I am to her,” he replied with a laugh, opening the trunk just as Na’eema, Mubashshar, and Ihsan arrived to welcome me.
“You’re the one who refused to come pick me up,” I accused her.
“I’m sorry! I woke up with a headache, and Yaya Abdul insisted we stay back to prepare for your welcome party. Please forgive me,” she said playfully.
I
