The Girl Whose Number I Got Without Her Consent

Sometimes, the most interesting stories begin with decisions that, at the time, seem completely ordinary.

This particular story started sometime after Ramadan and the Eid Mubarak celebrations of 2026.

There was this girl I had gradually started noticing, and slowly, slowly, she began to enter my eyes. At first, I didn’t bother to make any move.

She would pass by, and I would see her, but I never imagined that one day she would become someone I would genuinely care about.

You know that kind of thing where you don’t deliberately look for someone, but somehow your eyes always find them?

Yeah.

That was happening to me.

One day, I was sitting outside our shop with my friend. Let’s call him Umar.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, the girl passed by.

I was looking at her, and after she had passed, I turned my head to look again.

When she was gone and I turned back, I made eye contact with my friend, and he noticed what I was doing.

Then he asked me:

“Dume on alarata diga nane do?” (What are you looking at?)

I said:

“Wala.” (Nothing.)

Then I added:

“Kai, gaskiya bingel Sali jotta do don fotti na am. I just like her and I like the way she moved. Diga nane hanko on milara ta.”

(Honestly, I like this girl that just passed by. She’s the one I was looking at.)

When my friend heard that, he said:

“To tefu mo le.” (Date her na.)

I said, “Kayya vurtu hala man ankam.” (Let’s just forget about it.)

He insisted, and I eventually said, “Okay, let me think about it.”

I only said that to end the topic. I wasn’t planning to do anything about it at that moment.

After that encounter with my friend, I thought the issue was just going to die there. But inaaah! I just continued to feel this girl for real, and coincidentally, I began to see her passing by more frequently.

To be honest, I didn’t take it that seriously at first.

But as time went on, I began to pay more attention to her whenever she passed by, whether she was going to school, the market, or somewhere else.

We weren’t familiar with each other, so I thought maybe it would be better to find a way to talk to her or perhaps get her number somewhere and message her on WhatsApp.

As I said earlier, I liked the way she moved.

And, for some reason, I really liked watching her move.

She moved…

Slowly.

Jejely.

Majestically.

Before you accuse me of exaggerating and, to simplify everything, let me describe her from my own perspective and point of view.

She’s tall, and she’s not exactly slim. Neither is she fat nor chubby. She has a body build that sits somewhere in between, and somehow, everything seems to fit just right.

Her complexion? She’s not exactly fair, and she’s not dark either. She has that warm, beautiful brown complexion that is difficult to describe without sounding like someone who has lost his ability to think straight.

Her face is something else. Fine, naturally beautiful, and well-balanced. Her nose sits perfectly on her face, as though it was designed specifically for it. And her lips? Always looking moisturised, even without lipstick or lip gloss. I don’t know her secret, but apparently, some people don’t need all those things to look good.

Her eyes are dark, beautifully shaped, and naturally captivating, with a calmness that makes them even more beautiful.

She doesn’t have a scar or any mark on her face.

When she dresses, she kills it. FLAWLESS VICTORY!

And when she wears hijab, you will think she’s one princess from Egypt or somewhere in the Arabian Peninsula.

When she’s moving in a group, she appears differently and uniquely. There’s something about her that draws my attention. It is very easy to notice her, even if she’s half a kilometre ahead.

She’s taller than all her friends, at least from what I’ve observed, and to me, she carries herself with a kind of maturity that makes her seem more responsible than the rest.

Before you say I exaggerate too much, let me stop here so I can continue with the story because I’m only getting started.

So, I made up my mind that I would make a move towards her.

Honestly, I didn’t want to confront her and ask her to give me her number, although I could have done that.

I thought that even if she gave me her number, she might start wondering, What is he going to do with my number?

You know how girls behave sometimes.

And I also believed that if I got her number and messaged her, even if she turned me down, I could just move on and continue my life like nothing happened.

It’s a free world now.

While thinking about how I was going to get her number, something came to mind.

There was a guy I knew she used to hang around with. I mostly saw them together, and I believed he was actually dating her.

I don’t want to mention the guy’s name, so let’s just call him… ummm… okay, let’s call him Sadiq.

I met him and asked him to give me her number.

Did I even tell you the name of that girl?

I think you would like to know her name, right?

Noo. You don’t really want to know…

I’m not going to tell you her real name either.

Let’s just call her…

Ummm… what can I even call her?

Okay, let me disguise her identity here. I’m going to give her my sister’s name. Let’s call her Hadiza.

So, I pursued and persuaded Sadiq, and finally, he gave me her number.

But before he handed it over, he made me promise that I would never tell her or mention that he was the one who gave me the number. I took the promise seriously and committed myself to keeping it. I even pledged to take it to my grave.

Finally, I got the number.

Hmm, guysss! I GOT THE NUMBER OF A GIRL WITHOUT HER CONSENT.

Now what next?

Call her?

Naaahh, that’s not a good idea, I thought.

Chat her?

Yes! I was more convinced and comfortable with that option because I’m the kind of person who can express myself and articulate my thoughts better in writing than in conversation.

So, I decided I was going to chat with her on WhatsApp.

After making that decision, instead of acting immediately, alas, I didn’t. My own issues carried me away, and I even forgot about her.

You know ama hustler.

After some days, I was with the same friend who had encouraged me to make a move in the first place. He asked me, “How far about that girl? Have you talked to her?”

I said, “Noo. Minkan mi yejjiti be issue manfa, amma me hebi number mako kam.” (I forgot about that issue fah, but I got her number already.)

Then he told me, “You ought to do the needful.”

And I said, “Okay.”

The number remained in my phone for over a week before I finally messaged her.

After the usual “Hi,” “Hello,” “How are you doing?” and all those greeting stuffs, I started with:

“I don’t know if you actually know me… Do you recognise me, please?”

She said:

“No.”

Then I said:

“It’s okay, I don’t know if you want to know, but me, I really want to know you and even more about you. And I also want you to know that I exist!”

She said:

“Why?”

I said:

“Pardon my inquisitiveness about you, but honestly, you seem like a good girl, and I’m interested in knowing you better. Nothing complicated. And because I don’t like pretending, I reached out because, as I’ve said earlier, I actually want to know you, not just exchange greetings.”

Then she asked:

“Who is on your profile pic?”

I said:

“It’s me.”

She said:

“Like, I recognise him, but I’m not sure.”

I asked:

“What’s his name?”

She said:

“I can’t remember, but tell me.”

Abun mamaki! (Surprisingly!)

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The picture I had on my profile back then was one of me standing in front of a printed framed on the wall, looking at it. The camera captured me from behind, so none of my recognisable facial features was visible. All you could see was my head covered with a well-polished, neatly ironed Zanna cap, my shoulders draped in a white kaftan, and the back of my right ear.

To put it simply, if your gossip is on a whole different level, follow the link below, take a good look at the picture, and judge for yourself whether I was easily recognisable.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1eV1D-6oO6opOV6YIsjTr60UWzVuiF3cd/view?usp=sharing

I thought she wouldn’t recognise me.

So, when she asked my name, I told her I was Ahmad.

She refused to agree.

Then I told her Muhammad.

She still refused.

Finally, I told her my real name: AUWAL.

Though, to be honest, I’m still kind of sure that she might already have known me and my name, since I tried to clone myself, but she didn’t seem convinced.

And funny enough, when I asked her name, she told me:

“Aisha.”

Which both of us knew wasn’t her name.

I just laughed and reacted with laughing and surprised emojis.

Then, she asked:

“Where did you get my number?”

I said:

“I have my ways of getting numbers, but nothing illegal, I promise.”

After that, I told her her real name, and she asked who had told me.

I told her:

“Don’t mind who told me.”

Guy, she still asked who had given me her number. She was like, “What about the number?”

I told her I had had it for a long time; I had just decided to chat with her now.

Again, she said, “But pls tell me.”

Then I asked her:

“Don’t you want people to have your number?”

And she said:

“Only few people have this number.”

So I said:

“So I’m lucky to be among those few people now.”

She still insisted that I tell her.

I said:

“Yes, I got it from someone that knows you, but please, I don’t want to mention his name.”

And she asked:

“Why?”

I replied:

“It’s a promise that I pledged to take to my grave.”

I continued:

“I always see you as someone decent, and I wanted the chance to talk to you and know you better. That’s honestly it.”

And I believed that getting her number and chatting with her was not an offence.

And that’s how we started.

As time went on, after a few days, it seemed she was becoming a little more comfortable with our conversations. She willingly told me about herself, her school, her ambitions, what she wanted to become in the future, her hobbies, and so many other things I won’t mention here.

She also asked me to tell her about myself, which I did effortlessly.

Surprisingly, I came to realise that we shared so many things in common, and that made me fall even more deeply for her personality. The more we talked, the more interested I became in the person behind the beautiful face I had admired from a distance.

GUUUYYYS, I AM IN LOOVEE…….. (:

I need to stop typing this story because I’m tired, but I think I ought to tell you this one and it goes like:

There was a time I was chatting with this girl fah. After all the “ya kk,” “ya gida,” and every other greeting and compliment as usual, we moved on to the real gist (the part I can’t share with you people here).

The conversation was flowing so well, and that’s where the whole drama started.

To keep the vibe going, I asked her how her day had gone and all that. I told her I wanted the full breakdown of her day, from the moment she woke up until the time we started chatting. I also asked what she normally did during her free time.

She said she usually read books or watched movies.

Instead of asking her about the books she read, I asked, “What kind of movies?”

She replied, “Mostly Indian and Hausa movies.”

I hmmed and told her that, in this case, we were apparently on opposite sides because our movie tastes were completely different. I couldn’t sit and watch Indian or Hausa movies for even 15 minutes because, to me, particularly Hausa, they were usually too local, their content was weak, and those kinds of scenes didn’t really appeal to me.

I’d rather spend my time watching Hollywood action, thriller, or war movies.

Then I asked, “What’s the last movie you watched?”

She replied, “Danasani.”

I said, “Tell me about it.”

She simply sent an emoji, which I still can’t tell what it technically meant, and replied:

“Nooo… go and watch it yourself.”

We kept chatting until I don’t even know how we landed on another topic, where I told her I didn’t understand why some of you ladies liked doing that childish thing called “Shogoba.” (Playful pestering)

I even told her I found it very annoying and didn’t like it at all.

Omo… na there wahala start.

This girl began doing me shogoba immediately.

I tried to maintain my hard-guy reputation. I told myself, “Guy, no gree.”

I stood my ground… for a few minutes.

Finally, I asked, “Okay, what do you want?”

She said, “Go and watch Danasani and pay attention so you’ll understand the movie very well.”

I replied, “I can’t. I don’t even have the time for that.”

Omo… na there the matter change.

This girl called me and when I pick she started crying on phone.

Guyss, she was actually crying! For real.

She kept saying, “If you truly want my happiness, just go and watch it.”

Long story short…

That night, I didn’t sleep until I opened YouTube and watched Danasani from beginning to end. The next day, I went ahead to give her my report in detail.

I really thought I was a tough guy.

Love don humble me.

Before I find somewhere to rest this story, I want to tell you something that happened the day before yesterday.

While we were on a call, this girl brought up the issue of her number again. She has never stopped insisting that I tell her who gave me her number, even up till now.

Girls don’t like to let sleeping dogs lie.

She tried everything to find out. I refused.

She guessed, guessed, guessed, guessed…

And eventually, she guessed right.

But I still refused to confirm it.

Because I promised the guy who gave me the number that I wouldn’t tell her.

So technically, she knows.

I know she knows.

She knows that I know she knows.

But I have never actually told her.

And maybe that is one of the funniest parts of this whole story.

Because if you ask me today how I got her number, I’ll probably still give you the same answer:

“I promised the person who gave it to me that I wouldn’t tell you.”

Haha!

But beyond all the jokes, I am genuinely grateful that I made that move.

Because if I hadn’t, I don’t know what would have happened.

Maybe we would have remained two people who simply passed each other on the road without ever knowing what could have been.

But I did make the move.

And today, seven months later, I’m thankful I did.

I pray and hope that, Insha Allah, this story doesn’t end here.

I hope we continue to grow together, build a beautiful life and family together, and live happily together in this life and, most importantly, in Aljannah.

Because sometimes, you make one small decision without knowing where it will lead you.

And for me, that decision started with a girl passing by our shop…

You want to see her picture? Message me, Let’s do some deal. 😂