Misfortunate (Completed)

Chapter One : Director

Hello everyone, welcome. Thank you for coming here. Thank you. 🙇🏽‍♀️

"Action!"

I turn to face Ali, and started with my index finger in his face, speaking Hausa. "You're being so unfair to ask me to move in with your mother so that you can move your other wife in! You're being unfair."

He eyes me and gives me a signal to get out of the way, not touching me. I sigh for the camera and then observe the director's face. He doesn't look happy, so I am not surprised when he shouts "Cut!"

"Labeebah" He begins using my own name, not Amina which I bear in the movie. "You should say that to Ali as softly as possible. Don't be aggressive. That's not how a Hausa woman behaves, not even any woman anywhere. We'll take this again, don't shout at him, sound as pleading as possible."

I blink at him, wanting to ask if I read the script wrong. I clearly read that the statement was supposed to be said aggressively. Then, I remember that the producer of the movie says he wants it to resonate with Hausa men, that he wants them to be able to watch it.

I don't tell him that, instead I nod submissively and adjust the purple floor length hijab I'm wearing, pulling it over my forehead a little more. If I'd known that the pace of the movie would be twisted this way, I might never have taken up this role, it's also too late to back out since I cannot pay back the advance I was paid.

"Ali! Come and start over." Ali walks in, jiggling his keys and comes to sit arrogantly in the single sofa in front of me. At the director's cue, we start the scene all over and when we're done, I've succeeded in shedding a few more tears and I can now go home.

I step over a lot of cables, big and small on my way to meet my assistant who is reclined in a small chair just off the set, out of everybody's way. Most of the set hands take their anger off on actress assistants whom they believe are an extension of actresses themselves.

I tap her, she rouses from her sleep slowly and wipes her eyes. I smile at her child-like movements. "Nafeesah. Sorry I took so long. Ready?" She nods and gets up, unwrapping my handbag and phone to hand to me.

"Your husband called." My heart stops, i stop walking too. "When?" She stutters before saying that my husband has called about six times. "Why didn't you signal me?" I ask her, a little miffed because Abdul will tear me to shreds today.

"Buy me some airtime will you?" I pass her a one thousand naira note and she rushes off to get it, no doubt from somewhere she found out earlier. So I lean against a wall and wait for her to return.

When I hear footsteps behind me, I turn to meet Ali whom I acted as his wife earlier. He is Ali in real life too. He is smiling weirdly and I instinctively pull my floor length hijab to myself in a bid for protection. I know him, he is a lewd, disgusting human.

"Labeebah, Labeebah." He says my name in a sing song tone that grates on my nerves. "Good afternoon." I greet.

"How are you?" He asks but I refuse to answer. I know from experience what he wants. "I can see you're fine. Very beautiful in fact." He laughs out loud and lets his eyes rake my body from head to toe in a nerve-racking manner.

"You know you're fighting a lost battle? Hmm Don't you?" I spy Nafeesah coming from a far distance and walk past him, sweeping up dust with my hijab's hem. I do not mind another wash, as long as I let him know he cannot intimidate me. I have other things to be concerned about.