Between two brothers

The last time Amina saw Daniel, it was in the corridor of their secondary school The bell for closing had already rung, students rushing out in clusters, laughter and noise filling the air, but around them, everything felt still. Like time had paused just for the two of them. Promise me you won’t forget me, Amina said, her voice softer than she intended. Daniel laughed lightly, but his eyes didn’t. How can I forget you? You’re literally my entire headache. She hit his arm. I’m serious. He looked at her then, really looked at her. The girl who had shared his lunch when he forgot his. The girl who stayed up late helping him study for exams. The girl who somehow became his person without him even realizing when it happened. I’ll call you, he said. Every day if I can. Amina smiled, but something about it trembled. You'd better. Don’t go and enter university and forget secondary school people. Never, he said firmly. Not you. That was the last promise they ever made to each other. At first, he kept it. The calls came every night. Uni is stressful, Daniel would complain over the phone. You’re forming big boy now, Amina would tease. They would talk about everything and nothing: lectures, annoying classmates, dreams, and memories. Even in different cities, they still felt close. Until slowly things began to change. The calls became shorter. Then less frequent. They stopped. Amina told herself it was normal. University life was busy. People changed. Priorities shifted. Still, every night she would stare at her phone, hoping it would light up with his name. Daniel ❤️ But it never did. Weeks turned into months. Months turned into silence. By the time Amina gained admission into the university, she had already learned how to live without him. Or at least how to pretend she had. The campus was bigger than anything she imagined, with crowded walkways, loud hostels, and unfamiliar faces everywhere. It felt like a new world, one that didn’t include the boy she once thought would always be part of her story. Excuse me, a deep voice said behind her one afternoon. Amina turned. Standing there was a tall guy, effortlessly calm, with a kind of quiet confidence that made people naturally notice him. You dropped this, he said, handing her a notebook. Oh, thank you, she replied, slightly flustered. I didn’t even realize. He smiled. Not too much. Just enough. First year? He asked. She nodded. Is it that obvious? Very, he said. You still look hopeful. She laughed, surprised. And you don’t? Final year, he said. Hope is not as loud as it used to be. There was something about him, something steady, something safe. I’m Amina, she said. David, he replied. That was how it started. Love didn’t rush in for Amina and David. It grew.Slowly.Quietly.Naturally.At first, it was just conversations. Have you eaten? David would ask. Not yet,Amina would reply. Five minutes later, he’d show up with food. You didn’t have to do that, she would say. I wanted to, he’d reply simply. Days turned into weeks. And somewhere in between lectures, assignments, and long walks across campus, Amina found herself smiling more and laughing more and living more. David paid attention to everything. The way she loved extra pepper in her food.The way she always complained about early morning classes.The way she got quiet whenever something bothered her. He noticed. And he cared. One evening, Amina sat in her hostel room with her friends. You people don’t understand, she said, smiling at her phone. This man is too much. Her roommate laughed. What did he do again? He just sent me money because I said I was craving shawarma yesterday. Ahhh, her friends screamed and laughed. God when? Amina laughed, blushing. And he didn’t even let me ask. He just said, ‘Go and buy it, don’t stress yourself. Another friend shook her head. Final year man. That one is husband material. Amina didn’t say anything. But deep down, she agreed. David didn’t just care. He showed it. One afternoon, Amina was lying on her bed, tired and hungry, scrolling through her phone. Her phone rang. Come outside,David said. I’m tired,she whined. Just come. Grumbling, she dragged herself downstairs. And there he was. Standing with a flask. What’s that? she asked. Food, he said.You bought it? He shook his head. I cooked. Amina froze. You cooked? Yeah, he said casually. You said you’ve been missing home food. Her eyes widened as she opened the flask. The aroma hit her immediately. Jollof rice. Fried chicken. Plantain. David she whispered, almost emotional. I have exams, he added. But I knew you hadn’t eaten well today. At that moment…Amina knew something had shifted. This wasn’t just care. This was intention. From that day on, it became their thing—little surprises. Unexpected gifts.Thoughtful moments. Sometimes it was snacks. Sometimes it was handwritten notes. Sometimes it was him showing up even though she didn’t say she needed him.Even during his final exams, David never made her feel like she was too much. If anythingHe made her feel like she mattered. Amina, he said one evening as they sat together. Hmm? You deserve soft things. She looked at him, her heart doing something unfamiliar. Something calm.Something safe. For the first time in a long time, Amina wasn’t scared of love. And without realizing it, she was falling. Deeply.