I See Fire

44 | All the talking stages before him

Hajiya Waleeda has just come out of the shower humming happily to a song by her favorite Hausa artist Ali Jita.

Today her husband would be returning back to Abuja with her. In her naive, little head, she thought all was forgiven but knowing her husband he was the silent killer type.

If he wasn't over it, he'd punish her to satisfy the pain of the wound. Airah has helped her iron the Ankara gown she'd picked out the previous night for her trip. She'd also picked a matching veil and bag to with it so she could look her best for her husband.

Step 1 in Inna's guide to controlling a marital narrative.

Her mother had spent three previous nights education her on seduction, manipulation and dedication in all aspects of her marriage.

Airah and Arfa would pin their ears to the door to listen when the conversation began after Isha prayer. A few minutes after dinner was over, they'd be asked to clean the kitchen while Waleeda and Inna would go to pray upstairs and stay until midnight, planning all sorts in successions to the elevation of her marriage.

She stood by the mirror in her towel and smiled, holding her waist. Alhaji Abdullah didn't know what she was coming with—locally concocted aphrodisiacs and all.

Her clothes were neatly laid on the bed beside her other accessories and shoe by the floor. Make up wasn't on her agenda and all she wanted was to get ready before Alhaji Abdullah came.

Two knocks knock her back to reality and out of her imaginations. She walks to the door and stands, waiting for the person on the other side to talk.

"It's Airah."

"What is it?"

"Inna said I should tell you to be fast. Ya Abdullah is here."

"Ok," Waleeda runs to the bed in a hurry to rub her lotion and throw on the clothes "I'm almost ready."

After she hears Airah's footsteps stop, she sits on the bed with a huff and held her head. The time had come and she was incredibly nervous.

"Why is he hear so early?" She asked herself as she wore her underwear.

Five minutes later and she was done. Waleeda sprayed some perfume from her bag and took her shoes in one hand and her small box in the other hand. She dragged it excitedly down the stairs to greet her man.

"Ina kwana mijina," Good morning my husband.

She squatted, holding herself up with her bag by her side and she held him by her gaze which wasn't innocent by the way. She fluttered the fake lashes which made him hiss and murmur lightly.

"Ina kwana." He answered, walking outside without waiting for her.

Waleeda looked at her mother, confused and embarrassed at his behavior. The old Abdullah would've even taken her box from her but this was an angry man who may have lost the love he had for her in the midst of all this craziness.

Inna came close to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder "Just trust what I've taught you."

"Ok Inna."

"This is just the beginning." She rubs her back and let's her go after Abdullah.

Hajiya Waleeda joins him in the backsteat of his rental car as the driver started the car. She looked at him but he takes out his phone, refusing to acknowledge her.

The trip remains the same from the airport back to Abuja and all he ever said since he saw that morning after their greetings was to ask if she was hungry. Did that mean he still cared?