Posted to His Heart

There is a quiet kind of fear that creeps in after graduation - a space between endings and beginnings, where uncertainty grows like a shadow.

For Ameerah Sadiq, that fear came wrapped in silence.

Convocation at the University of Ilorin had been joyful. Family came. Photos were taken. Laughter filled the air like sunlight. But when the applause faded and the final gowns were returned, reality stepped in - quiet and serious.

NYSC.

Four letters that carried the weight of national duty, unfamiliar places, and dreams not yet lived.

She checked her portal constantly - morning and night, refreshing with breath held tight. And still, for weeks, the answer was silence. Friends around her began to move on, called to serve in Lagos, Enugu, Adamawa. The air was thick with their excitement, but she remained suspended in waiting.

Until one ordinary afternoon, her phone buzzed with a message that changed everything:

> "NYSC posting is out. Check your portal."

Ameerah's hands trembled as she logged in. The site loaded slowly, as if it too held its breath. Then, the words appeared:

> State of Deployment: Katsina

Batch C, Stream I.

Print your Call up Letter attached.

Katsina.

Her heart swelled with a strange mix of nerves and relief. That was the state she had written down herself - not because it was near, but because she had heard good things from a corp member who once served there. "It's safe, quiet," the sister had said. "And very respectful to Muslims."

She folded the printed call-up letter carefully, as though it were something sacred.

"Alhamdulillah," she whispered.

---

Her journey began on a Monday morning, with her bag packed and heart heavy with unknowns. She left Ilorin early, traveling long hours across flat roads and cities that blurred together behind dusty glass windows. The endless roads stretched out before her like ribbons unfurling into the horizon, carrying her steadily toward the unknown.

By evening, she arrived in Kano, a city alive with movement and sound, a junction on her path. The air was cooler here, a slight breeze carrying the scent of distant markets and street food. At the bustling motor park, she spotted a familiar figure waiting - Abdulfatah, her proposed fiancé, introduced to her months earlier by trusted friends. His presence was steady, a calming anchor after months of loneliness and loss.

Abdulfatah greeted her with calm courtesy, his voice gentle and warm. He took her bag with care and led her through the busy streets to a modest house belonging to his aunt.

"This is where you'll stay tonight," he said softly. "You'll be safe here."

The house was quiet and welcoming. Ameerah felt the tension in her shoulders ease just a little as she stepped inside. He showed her to a private room where she could rest, pray, and unpack the precious belongings she had carried from Ilorin - her documents, her khakis, her food flask, and her journal, worn at the edges from months of hopeful scribbles and prayers.

The night settled deeply outside the window, the city lights of Kano twinkling like distant stars. Inside, a peaceful silence wrapped around her, a fragile cocoon.

Though their conversation had been sparse during the journey, that evening brought a small opening. Abdulfatah's voice broke the quiet, clear and steady.

"I've fallen deep for you already, Ameerah!" he confessed loudly, then laughed softly, breaking the tension that had been building between them.

She could only nod, feeling the weight of his words settle over her. She didn't have the courage to respond fully, the future still too uncertain and vast. But deep inside, she hoped that if he was truly the best for her, the rest would find its way.

Before long, Abdulfatah explained he had to leave briefly for his master's classes at the University of Kano. He requested for her passport - a vital document she would need to upload on the NYSC portal to complete her registration. Assisting her to do it now will make her passport be on the portal by the time she gets to the camp.

She handed it over, grateful that she would only need to print the papers when she gets in if need be and trusting him to keep the passport safe.

"Take care of it for me," she said.

His promise to return it when they meet again was the last thing he said before he stepped out.

Left alone, Ameerah sat quietly by the window, fingers tracing the edges of her journal. The night stretched long and full of silent questions. Outside, the hum of the city faded into the darkness.

---

Morning arrived slowly, soft and golden, spilling light over rooftops and awakening the streets below.

Abdulfatah returned with a small package of food, a simple kindness that warmed her more than she expected. The gesture made the day feel less daunting, less lonely.

Together, they walked through the busy streets toward the park where buses and motorbikes waited to carry her onward.

As they prepared to part ways, Abdulfatah spoke warmly. "May this journey bring you peace and purpose, Ameerah."

She tightened her grip on her bag, the familiar weight grounding her amidst the whirl of emotions.

He smiled, then turned to leave but paused, looking back briefly.

"Safe journey. I will call you."

His words floated behind her as she stepped onto the bus, filling the space between goodbye and the road ahead.

The journey from Kano to Katsina stretched on for hours - winding roads, dusty horizons, and the constant rattle of the engine beneath her.

As the bus rolled forward, Ameerah closed her eyes briefly, breathing in deep. She folded away her fears and doubts like a treasured prayer, allowing a quiet hope to bloom instead.

The path ahead was uncertain. The life waiting for her was still unknown.

But she was ready.