I’ve encountered numerous beautiful women throughout my life, each leaving a fleeting impression. Some have become distant memories, forgotten over time. Yet, among them all, there’s one star that continues to shine brightly in my heart, a famous name engraved in my soul for years: Zubaida.
I vividly remember the day our paths first crossed. It was a Monday, the fourteenth day of August in the year 1999. I had just embarked on my journey as a student at the Federal College of Education in Zaria.
I sat alone on one side of the lengthy classroom balcony, clad in white trousers and a white blouse adorned with a red print on the front. The rest of the students were engrossed in their own activities, bustling about and immersed in their chatter, typical of seven new students.
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As I glanced upward, my eyes met hers—Zubaida. She approached with grace, wearing a blue lace outfit paired with black shoes. Her school documents were neatly tucked into a file, and her black bag matched the color of her shoes.
Zubaida was a sight to behold, and I hope you won’t fault me for describing her this way. You see, my first encounter with her left me utterly bewildered. If there’s one thing I can confidently claim to excel at in life, it’s recognizing the beauty of a woman, even from a distance. I’ve been an observer for a long time, and I can assure you that Zubaida’s beauty surpassed any description I could attempt to convey in this narrative.
So, please, join me on this journey. There’s a twist in this story, a turn of events that I must share with you.
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