Redefining Love

Chapter Three

Getting married was a big deal in Nigeria, no matter what tribe you are and most people in my position would be happy but I wasn't, I was just hopeful and curious. Mama came into my room at that moment.

"Aisha, your father wants to see us." she said.

"Okay ma." I stood up to follow her as I put on my hijab.

Baba was as usual seated on his reclining armchair chewing on a piece of kola.

"Assalam waylakun. (peace be upon you.)" I greeted my father as I took a seat next to mother on one of the chairs.

"Walaykun salam." He replied to my greeting, cleared his throat before he finally stated the reason of the small gathering.

"Aisha, we just wanted to inform you that your fiancés family is ready to come and ask for your hand in marriage, thus you should be prepared. We have given you enough time to get used to the idea and from what I have heard, your meeting with your soon to be husband went well." Baba said, he stopped expecting some kind of reply from me.

My throat was dry as I tried to form coherent words but my mouth wouldn't even move. I wondered who had told him the meeting had gone well, if it had been Al ameen and what Baba's expression would have been like if he had heard the words we had really exchanged at the meeting. I stared at baba for a while before nodding realizing baba and mama were waiting for me to say something.

"Okay then, I would call my in-laws. Your engagement and nikkah will be in a month's time." Baba concluded as he dismissed us.

Mama followed me upstairs and started to fuzz around, asking what I wanted and where I wanted it to be. The colour of cloth I would like to wear and how we had to sow them quick before it got to a state where we would start rushing. I inhaled deeply to prevent myself from lashing out at mama since I was already getting frustrated and irritated by her constant nagging.

"Mama, Thank you. You can take care of the rest but my friends and I would take care of my dress."

"Okay." She said and exited the room, with a promise to get in touch with the best caterer she knows.

Most times, I wondered how mama had felt when she had first gotten married to baba, I knew she would have been complaint since she still was.

I wondered if baba asked her to jump, would she say how high or ask why she even had to jump in the first instance. Knowing mama, she would probably ask how high? She wasn't educated and hadn't come from a rich family unlike baba so I knew she must have been happy and thought herself lucky when she had gotten married back then but now, I wondered if could I ever feel happy in that kind of marriage.

I started to make a mental list of what I had to do and not to picking up a pen and a jotter as I laid on my bed.

"Clothes, Shoes, Hijab...." I noted down as I decided I would go with Gold and brown theme for my dressing.

I picked up my phone as it starts vibrating. "Hello..." I trailed off since I didn't know who was calling, it was an unknown number.

"Good afternoon, what's your favourite colour?" He went straight to the point.

I feigned ignorance as my heart started racing in annoyance, "Please, who am I speaking with?" I ask

"Ooh please, that's the problem with us Nigerians. We answer question's with question's rather than answering the previous one before asking another? But anyways, that's none of my business. Its just your stupidity at show again. What's your favourite colour?" He repeats his question in obvious agony.

"Black." I replied deciding not to make a fool of myself anymore.

"Good." He said simply.

"So, you..." I started but he had already ended the call