HAFSAT

ONE

So I'm going to be inter changing between first and third POV depending which I can deliver more with.

"Hello, good morning, madam!" I shuffled by the door and greeted the owner of the salon. I was wearing a pink knee length blouse with a black leggings.

She gave me a once over with a friendly smile,"Morning! Hafsah?"

"Yes." I returned the smile.
She held my arm and pulled me inside gently. There was a medium sized desk and chair, for the receptionist,I guess.
The salon itself was medium sized, it was recently opened. There were three hair styling stations, two shampoo stations, carts and trolleys arranged in the right places, a magazine rack to entertain customers and other stuff here and there. The walls were painted in a mix of blue and pink.

My madam,Rasheedat, gave me a quick tour. There was a room and toilet well hidden behind a curtain.
I put away my handbag which contained a few naira notes,-in case of emergencies as my Mama says- a nude lip gloss, kohl, and my Nokia torchlight phone.

My work is to wash, dry and stretch hairs.Then the least tasking jobs, making sure there always is hot water for customers who cannot stand cold water. I heard before that cold water was good for the hair, but I am sure no one cares about what i have heard before. It is all about the customer. I also have to be refilling shampoo and conditioner.

I am not in any way excited for this salon job. My Mama however isn't one to care about that. She was tired of seeing me sitting at home idly. The good thing was the payment, so all is well.

My eyes drifted from the hair products I was examining to a woman who came in, the clanking of her heels filled the silence of the salon.

I welcomed her and she answered with a neutral face. I am not offended, I promise. Some of us cannot keep a smile on our face if there's no reason to do so.
I am that kind of person who always has a 'frown'on her face. I am so tired of making people understand. I am lowkey jealous of people who can give out smiles anyhow. I have been learning to smile more often since I heard it is sunnah. I get a reward for just smiling? I am so learnng this.

The woman who I thought was a customer, disappeared into the room behind the curtain. She came out with slippers on her feet and picked up a broom. My mouth formed an O in realization.

I decided to wonder why she would bother with the heels since i had nothing to do.

Around 8:30AM, customers started trooping in. I started on my first customer with madam Rashidat observing me. I often took care of my hair myself so I wasn't entirely bad at this salon work.

I took note of everything whenever i wasn't working on something.The workers are latecomers, that, I have learnt.
Madam Rashidat scolded them but I for one know a stubborn person when I see one. From my observation, they would repeat it again and again. The scolding entered through one ear and left through the other.

At 2PM, I signed out and ran home. Well not literally.

\\\

Hamza quickly stacked his notebook,-which he barely noted anything in-and pen in his messenger bag. He swung it across his shoulder and strutted out of class.

He jammed up his boys in the hallway and they left to the parking lot together.
After filing into his Acura,Hamza drove them to his house. His parents'house actually. He parked in front of his side of the building. Hamza went to the kitchen to get them food while his friends, Nasir and Mahmud guided themselves inside.

"You're back?"His mum caught the scent of his perfume and knew it was him.

His reply came in a barely audible thick voice,"Yes."

She had her back turned to him so he got the chance to see what she was doing. Mixing flour and some stuff. Besides taking care of her family, his mum loved making all those sweet stuff they do with flour.
His forty year old mother looked nothing close to that. She looked young and beautiful.

As he made to pick up the foodflask on the counter, her voice halted his actions.
"Hammad is not back from school."
He understood what she meant. Hammad was his fifteen year old brother. They usually served them in thesame foodflask. By telling him he wasn't back,it means he hasn't eaten.

He looked into her eyes and gave a nod that was barely noticeable. Not for his mother though,the nods were what she usually got, so they were loud and clear.

Nasir has set up the PS4. They spent the evening gaming after eating.

At night, Hamza got comfortable under the covers and dialled one of his girlfriend's number.
She picked up at the fisrt ring. Of course she was anticipating.

"Hey, baby," Her high pitched voice made him move his phone away from his ear on reflex.

"Hello, beautiful."

"Yau baka tura mun kudi ba,"she drawled. Hamza mentally hissed. The girls were all hungry for his money. He would have discarded them all if not because they keep him company.

"Sorry,love. It skipped my mind."
He switched to his bank app and tranferred a few thousands to her.She squealed in that torturing voice of hers,thanking him.
They spent hours talking,mostly her giving him random gists of her day until he fell asleep.
That was all he needed them for, to get rid of his loneliness.