Sheer Coincidence

This story is purely fictional so any correspondence to a name of a living or dead is coincidental. No copyright©️.

•••••

Sleep, eat, travel, repeat. That's what I believe. Get money and then enjoy it because if you don't spend it while you're still young, you won't enjoy it in your old age.

My friend and I took our luggage from the baggage carousel in the airport that delivered it just now. We proceeded to the counter and handed the black woman our passports. She stamps it and gives it back and we headed out dragging the luggage. As usual, many taxis are waiting outside and drivers running to people luring them into their cars so that they'll get customers. A full-bearded man came to us and collected our suitcases putting them in the car booth.

I think Dad sent him.

"Ok." My friend replies with her eyes glued to her phone as she types.

The man opens the car door and we went in and settled.

I've just arrived in Nigeria, Abuja after completing my four years of education in accounting, London. Not once did I visit in these four years. Nigeria has changed a lot. It has become a more beautiful and peaceful nation. Seems like it has attracted more foreigners because the airport had a lot of Americans in it today. Either they're here to meet the president or someone important.

The ride home was quiet except for the voice of my Friend that kept talking on the phone with her family. She isn't only a friend but my cousin that stays with us. She is my dad's youngest sister's daughter. When her mother died, she moved to my house and we were brought up together. We're age mates.

We came out of the car dashing into the magnificent two-storey building. Dad and Mum were waiting inside the living room and just as we stepped in, we were showered with balloons that came from a room upstairs. We all ran to each other and embraced ourselves in a group hug.

"We're proud of you for graduating with flying colours." They chorused while we pulled.

"I'll go and freshen up." I evaded their never-ending discussion by going upstairs. Dad said I graduated with flying colours to boost my confidence because I'm not a bright student neither did I leave with flying colours. In fact, I brought home crawling colours. It's not that I won't get a job with the certificate, I will but maybe not a good-paying job.

Months later

The issue of our parents constantly reminding me of getting a wife is alarming. Everyone in the city thinks I'm gay so to shut them all up for a while, I've decided something.

"What?" My elder brother laughs as he sits on the sofa in my cabin.

Job vacancy. You heard me in the morning during breakfast when mum said she wants to meet my girlfriend this weekend and I agreed because I don't want to marry someone she'll choose as it will be a family member.

"Were you lying about it? You convinced her that you're dating. Even I thought you were dating someone."

I have no time for dating. Just do as I say and post the job online. I want a perfect girlfriend that will impress my family for three months. She should be modern, not too traditional, very fair in complexion, has manners and a good physique. A melodic and soft voice and someone who doesn't talk too loud or speak when she's not asked to. After three months, we'll make an excuse and I'll tell them we aren't compatible.

"What if they like her?"

They'll like her for as long as I'm with her. When I tell them we've broken up, they have to move on. I'll pretend as if she is the only one in the world who I love and then the situation is solved. For 2 years, they won't speak to me about marriage again.

He chuckles and drags the laptop that was on the tea table putting it on his lap as he types.

What's funny?

"I just made a strange scenario. What if when you two break up, Mum tries to mend the fake relationship?"

It's not possible. Mum always has our interest when deciding our lives.

"Salary?" He gazes at me briefly from the laptop screen and continues typing.

3 months that should be 3 million. A million each month but she has to look her best. She must know acting so that Mum and Dad will believe her.

"Don't worry. I'll interview the ladies myself. Age?"

24 or 25 but not a single employee of this office is allowed to apply.

"Height?"

57, tailors tape.

"Weight?"

She shouldn't be too fat or too slim.

He presses a button on the keyboard and closed the laptop screen. "Sent."

Good. We need a fake girlfriend before the weekend. I'll introduce her on Saturday during their wedding anniversary.

"Getting the fake girlfriend is easy since you'll be paying a lot. The problem is what will happen when Mum asks her a question about you and she doesn't know the answer."

Yes. We won't be in touch with each other unless in front of them. No problem. She can come here every day to know about me before the anniversary. This means you have to conclude the interview within two days and select a suitable girl for the post.

"It will be a tough job but I'll try."

••••

We used the escalator in going to the upper floor of the supermarket. Many couples walking hand in hand passed by us and Mum started her lecture.

"Have a boyfriend in the tertiary institution, you refused. Now all your mates are married and some have already become parents while you're still living with your parents. Find a job, you're not willing to. Be like your cousin, Reem. You're age mates yet she is already engaged. I wonder when you'll wake up and face the reality of the world. You can't live on us anymore. Let your father rest too."

My shoulder touches another woman's shoulder and all the bags she held fell on the floor.

Oh God, I'm sorry. Really sorry.

We both squatted on the floor while I returned the items that fell from the bag and handed them to her. Our eyes met and she shifted her gaze to my mother getting up. They hugged each other briefly.

"Don't you recognize her, Ayesha?" Mum says with a delighted tone.

"No. How will I know her? I've returned to Nigeria after five years and some months. I've forgotten many people's faces. Is she your friend?" I straightened looking at the unknown woman that has a smile plastered on her lips.

"I'm your Mother's childhood friend. Are you the Ayesha I knew when she was just a baby? You've grown into a beautiful woman."

Oh, thanks. Thanks. Mum, can we get going?

I became uncomfortable with the way she is staring at me.

"Are you single? You see, I'm looking for a match for Khalid." She and Mum giggled and I joined them dismissing what she said to be a joke.

"On a serious note, I'm not joking." Her expression changed and she became serious.

"Khalid is her son. He's 29 and still unmarried. You won't find any better match than him, dear. I accept your proposal." Mum tells her.

"N..no. I have a boyfriend. What will I tell him? I love him a lot so if not him, it won't be anyone." I lied to them.

Mum eyes me and then smiled at her friend. "If you want, we can hook them up. I know Khalid is a better option."

"No, no. We're not in the generation of forcing girls anymore. If she has someone else, may he keep her happy."

"She's lying to you. There is no one. She is neither agreeing to give someone a chance nor let anyone into her life. I don't know what is wrong with the new generation. They think they can live life all by themselves but they don't realize a partner is always needed to keep you company." Mum says.

"Should I give you Khalid's number, dear?" She asked me but before I spoke, Mum interjected.

"She'll call him for sure. Give it."

Mum, I have a...

"Yes?" She brought out her phone from her purse while the woman says the digits. After she finished typing, she said. "This is Ayesha's number." She gives it to her.

"I'll get going. I hope it works out between you two. Khalid can be a difficult nut to crack." She walks away and Mum glares at me.

"About your boyfriend...."

Yes. I met him in London but he stays in Nigeria. We're deeply in love mother. I love him a lot. How do you expect me to move on abruptly and date her son? This isn't how love works.

"I know you don't have a boyfriend. Stop lying now. She is gone."

I do. He's very handsome.

"Introduce us then. Call him if he's not busy and ask him to join us. I want to meet him."

Who isn't busy in the afternoon? He is at work. Today is Monday. Every responsible person must either be in school or at work. Same here. My boyfriend is a busy man. He hardly even gets time for me.

"No matter what, tell him to make time within this week to see me or else, I'll tell your father about Khalid and fix your marriage with him."

That won't be needed. My boyfriend will meet you this week.

••••

Reem, I lied. I lied through my teeth without being remorseful. Mum believes I have a boyfriend when I don't. Who should I introduce to her and that too, within this week? We don't love someone overnight, do we? So who will be my boyfriend?

I walked all over the room not able to think of anyone that can come to my aid. "Who will pretend to be my fake boyfriend? No one! No one will do that. How I wish an unknown stranger will put up a post online searching for a fake girlfriend for some time and I, he'll be my fake boyfriend. After a few months when I've introduced him to Mother and Father, I'll make a reason and say we fought and broke up.

Reem who was occupied on the sofa with her finger scrolling her phone gazes up and asks. "Repeat what you said."

I said I lied to...

"Not that. The last part."

How I wish an unknown stranger will be ready to be my fake boyfriend for some time if not mum will hook me up with a guy called Khalid.

"Your problem is solved all because of me. Say thank you." She jolts.

Why? How is it solved? Do you think there is anyone who'll be ready to act as my fake boyfriend?

"Yes. There was a vacancy I saw earlier.."

No Reem. I'm not looking for a job. I want a fake boyfriend.

"Yes. That's the vacancy. A job of a fake girlfriend for three months with a handsome salary."

"Really?" A wide smile adorned my face.

"Yes. I saw the vacancy yesterday. It will expire tomorrow and I heard the interviews have already started today. Should I apply for you?"

But...

"The website will be closed at 9. Think quickly."

My eyes shifted to the alarm clock on the dressing table that shows 8:57.

Do it. Apply fast.

She nods and started typing on her phone.

"Reem, fast. The clock is ticking." I did what I always do when I'm uneasy. Chewing the nails on my hands.

"The list of requirements is long and I have to fill every field."

Okay, continue. Don't stop.

"You can't be what these people are asking but I'm still filling the form. I hope you'll give your best."

I'll try. Nothing is impossible for me.

"Done. Your interview is tomorrow." She heaves a deep breath and exhales.

Thank you. So what are the requirements?

"You're 24 years old, you passed that. You're 57 inches tall. You passed that too but the others...no. You may hardly be chosen."

Why? What is so difficult there?

"You're fat and they don't want a fat woman or a slim one. You talk too much and sometimes about unnecessary things. You're fair, yes. You have long hair okay. Smooth face too, checked. But can you catwalk?"

Catwalk as in?

"As in catwalk. In short, they want a model from the fake girlfriend. They belong to a modern influential family."

Oh, oh. Modern?

"You know you're not modern right?"

I've lived in London, Reem. I've adapted some things.

"Like how to hold a fork and knife? Can you still hold it as it should be?"

"Food tastes better when it's eaten with hands. Nigerians use their hands to enjoy their food so forget the fork and knife. Some food tastes better when you use your hands and the level of satisfaction you get.." My eyes twinkled dreamily. "Beyond explanation. Hand brings out the flavours in food. Even when the food isn't delicious, when you use your hand, it becomes okay. Let me give you an example of a food that can only be eaten with the..."

She yawns and slouched back. "You've accepted you can't use a fork and knife. I just told you one of the requirements is not talking unnecessarily. Can you ever control your mouth?"

I talk only with the right people.

"They want a girl that has a soft and melodic voice."

No problem. I'll drink honey before going there tomorrow. I'll even add sugar. If necessary, I'll eat a bar of chocolates. I hope they won't mind when I get diabetes.

"Forget all their requirements and tell me, are you ready to meet the Employer?"

I have full confidence I'll be selected as the fake girlfriend because the Employer and I have the same goals. I'm sure his family must have triggered him to the extent he posted that job. Mum is doing the same for me. Do you see? He'll become my fake boyfriend for three months and I'll become his fake girlfriend for three months.

"He is the C.E.O of City and Village life Interiors. He has branches on almost all the states in the country."

The confidence in my voice flew out because I wasn't expecting him to be rich. "And he's looking for a fake girlfriend? He is already rich. I'm sure he already has girlfriends. Why won't he use any of them and introduce her to his family? If he is the work always type, why won't he introduce one of his Employees?"

"The form strictly mentioned no employees from his company will join."

But since he posted the job online, won't his modern family know about it? Or don't they use Google?

"Why will his family check his company's website? They're also busy with their lives. His father still works in his own office. He'll be too busy with what is happening in his life rather than his son's."

Okay. So his mum is the one pestering him. I get it but don't worry. I'll pass the interview with flying colours. I'll prepare and research so much on him that tomorrow, he'll be left awestruck by me. By the way, what is his name?

"Khalid Abdulhamid."

Rhyming name. I'll rhyme perfectly with him too for 3 months.

I squeaked happily.

"I'm going to eat. Research well." She rose and left.

Khalid Abdulhamid! Why do I feel like I'll be your fake girlfriend for three months? I have to pass that interview by hook or crook to convince mum that I have a boyfriend.