CHAPTER ONE
15th February 2016
In a primitive dwelling, somewhere in Niger state, Nigeria; in an outdoor kitchen made of mud and haulm, used for thatching, a young girl of about eighteen was seated on a small, wooden stool, with a book in her hands.
The rays from the morning sun flashed through the open window and shone on her.
She was so engrossed in reading, that she ignored the mortar containing dried okra to be crushed.
A genuine smile crept up her lips as she flipped through the pages of the literary work. Right from childhood, she had always had the zeal for books. Makeups, braiding of hairs in different styles, gossiping with the other village girls by the bank of the river, and other similar things girls her age did, did not faze nor fascinate her. She preferred to be in isolation and read and read till she could read no more.
Her parents, especially her dad, frowned upon the attitude of hers. In his words: Instead of preparing herself for marriage, as she was already ripe, she was busy engaging herself in worthless activities—activities that would lead her nowhere in the future.
"Larai!" A thin voice rang out her name, piercing through the morning silence and sending echoes through the empty compound, jolting her out of her trance.
Startled, she sprung up. Intuitively, she hid the book behind her back, just before a middle-aged woman walked into the mudded kitchen. She was dressed in a combination of three different types of clothing: A green colored blouse, a rainbow-like wrapper, and a scarf messily wrapped around her head. Judging by her demeanor, anyone could tell she didn't look pleased at all.
At times like this, Larai couldn't help but recall how she used to leave her in the hands of relatives, who were always waiting to jump at the opportunity of beating a child to stupor, once their parents complained to them about them, hiding underneath the shields of discipline.
Gone are the days.
The woman's gaze darted to the bowl of okra sitting untouched on the well-swept ground, her eyes widened as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. "Larai! What have you been doing? Why haven't you crushed those yet?"
Her voice, coupled with her psyched-up demeanor sent shivers down Larai's spine. "I'm sorry, Nna." Larai bowed slightly; her voice laced with remorse. She ought to have finished crushing the baobab leaves and dried okra for the preparation of the local soup powder, but she had been so engrossed in the book, she got distracted. "I'll do it now," she added.
"Be fast about that," her mother ordered, then turned to leave, but something caught her attention. Her brows furrowed. "What are you hiding behind your back?"
Larai's breath quickened, laboriously. "It's... It's nothing, Nna. Please go ahead and have a rest." She smiled sheepishly; her palms grew sweaty.
By Nna's demeanor, Larai could tell she didn't buy her story. Nna gazed suspiciously at her and began to slowly approach her.
With each step she took, Larai's heartbeat quickened. She knew she was about to be busted.
Nna grabbed her hand forcefully and the book fell to the ground with a soft thud.
Unsure of how Nna's reaction would be, Larai cringed inwardly. She had been warned times without number against reading such types of books but being the adamant person she was, she never listened. She just couldn't. It was something she was passionate about. She wished she could become a writer herself, someday.
Nna picked up the book from the ground. "Love in Paradise." She read out the title, then heaved a sigh of exasperation. "You do know the repercussions of your action, don't you?" She hummed. "What if your father had passed by and seen you reading that book?"
Tears welled up in Larai's eyes. She would never be able to understand why she was being deprived of doing the things she was passionate about. Besides, she was not hurting anyone with what she was doing. "But why, Nna? What is wrong in reading love stories?" she asked; her gaze fixated in hers, as she stood almost daringly in front of her.
"Many things." Nna scoffed. "You are about to be married off soon. Instead of wasting your time reading fictional stories and being delusional that your life will be like theirs someday, it would be beneficial for you to read books about food and learning how to make delicious meals that would satisfy your husband. Your life can never be like that of those in books, for they are all lies made up by a person, out of boredom. Marriage isn't about love, but being able to satisfy your husband in all ways. These books will do you no good. I'm getting rid of it!" She flung it through the open window. "Life isn't a fairytale. The earlier you realize that, the better it would be for you. Don't allow me to return and you still haven't finished crushing those. Wawa." She muttered an insult in their native language, underneath her breath, and stormed out of the kitchen—as the typical Nupe woman she was.
Larai's gaze trailed after her retreating figure. Tears welled up in her eyes. She joined her sweaty palms together and rubbed, nervously.
She peeped and made sure her mother had returned to her hut already, before tiptoeing to the backyard of the kitchen, as discreetly as she could—where her book was thrown. She picked it up and hid it in a safe corner behind some bricks. Then she hurried back to the kitchen and began crushing the dried okra in the mortar, with a long pestle that almost surpassed her height.
Exhausted from the labor after some few minutes, she took a seat on the wooden stool again; her breaths emerging in ragged pants. A frown etched her forehead, as she recalled her mother's words. Right from when she was just a kid, despite seeming impossible, she had always dreamed of her prince charming sweeping her off her feet and be her knight in shining armor. She wanted to be able to live the feeling of being in love. Just like in literary works. She wanted to have her own happily ever after. She didn't want to be bound in an unwanted family, just like other young girls in the village.
In a family of five children, all females, she was the fourth child to be birthed. All of her older sisters were already married off to the men they were betrothed to and had kids already. Just like them, sadly, she knew she was about to trail their footsteps soon.
The evening arrived faster than Larai had anticipated. Baaba had summoned for her in his hut that was slightly isolated from the others in the compound. For some inexplicable reason, she felt uneasy. Did Nna perchance tell on her? She shook her head in denial, for she trusted her mother wouldn't want to get her in trouble. Baaba was one difficult person people feared to cross.
Emerging from the hut she shared with her sister, she headed straight to his part. She swallowed, then hesitantly mumbled, "As-salam Alaykum (Peace be unto you)."
"Wa Alaikum salaam. (Peace be unto you too)." She heard Baaba's voice from inside the hut, making her gulp.
His words alone sent shivers down her spine. "Come in," he added.
Larai shifted the curtains to the side and bent her head to get into the hut, for her height had surpassed it.
Inside the hut, was Baaba, Nna, and a few other guests she wasn't familiar with—two elderly men and a lady.
The older man was dressed in a white sleeveless babban Riga, that showed his body whenever he lifted his hands to demonstrate his words. The red cap he had on, fit perfectly on his head.
The second man was donned in an oversized purple-colored kaftan and brown trousers. Larai wondered who the man with the poor dressing sense was. The color combination was totally wack.
She then discreetly glanced at the woman, who was clad in a green Ankara and a grey scarf securely wrapped around her head. Larai's brows furrowed at the presence of the strange faces.
Larai was snapped out of her trance when Nna cleared her throat.
She shook her head and forced a fake smile on, before taking a seat on the same mat her mother was seated on, with folded legs.
She lowered her gaze, but in a split second, she raised it and glanced at the visitors, discreetly.
"Larai," Baaba called in his usual authoritative voice, which always managed to scare children a few miles away from him. To them, he was more like a monster.
"Na'am, Baa... ba," she said and intuitively covered her stutters with a cough.
"Greet your visitors." Baaba gestured at the strangers.
At his words, her brows furrowed even tighter. She wondered what he meant by his sentence. Whatever it was, she had a feeling it wasn't going to be pleasant for her. "Good evening. Hope you arrived safely," she told them.
"I wouldn't say that, but glory be to God, we're here now." It was the woman who spoke first.
Baaba cleared his throat, before continuing. "Even before you were birthed, you were already betrothed to get married to Alhaji Sayuti's first son, Zakari. He is from the neighboring village, Tswasha. They are here to complete the formalities and get you both married as soon as possible." Baaba informed Larai; his voice, as casual as possible. "I have always known Zakari to be a successful farmer. I have no doubts he will make a good husband to you."
Larai took in a sudden breath. Her heart thumped faster against its confines. Her face contorted in displeasure. This was exactly what she had been afraid of. She didn't want to get married. Not at the moment. She still had many things she wanted to accomplish and getting married to the farmer would indubitably bring her dreams to a standstill.
She shook her head. For once in her life, she wanted to stand up to her father—to beg him to reconsider, but she knew better than to do that. It would be considered disregard of the highest order and more so, the amount of fear she had for him, wouldn't even allow her to lift a finger. Like an agama lizard, she found herself nodding.
"Larai has grown up to be such a beautiful girl," Alhaji Sayuti remarked, observing in a somewhat perverted manner. "What do you think?" He turned to his wife, Kashi. His question was directed to her.
She forced a smile, but nodded in concurrence. She seemed displeased by something.
Larai's gaze was fixated on her. For some reason, she found something odd about her, but at the same time, she couldn't pinpoint what it was.
"She sure has," Baaba smiled, pride dripping off his voice. "My wife here did a great job in raising her. She has taught her all the things she needs to know to make a perfect wife. She's not only beautiful but well-mannered and a good cook as well."
Nna's lips stretched to the limits.
"I hope you don't turn out to be like your mother and give my son female children only." Kashi emphasized the word 'female' jocularly, yet seriously. "As it is, he already has enough from his first wife. He doesn't need more. A son is what he needs."
Nna squirmed in her seat.
"All of her older sisters are married and have multiple sons already," Baaba informed the guests. "So, this shouldn't be a problem. I'm sure Larai will be able to bear male children for your son."
"Good to know." Kashi plastered on a smile, that didn't quite reach her eyes.
Even a blind man could tell it was forced.
Larai lowered her head, sad. She dared not to look up at them, for it would be considered disrespectful. Everything they had said didn't go unheard by her, but she couldn't intervene, even though she so badly wanted to. She could only sit there and listen, with no hope at all.
"Why don't we give them the chance to get to know a little about each other?" Nna gazed at her with sad eyes. "I think—"
"That isn't done." Alhaji Sayuti shook his head fiercely and stood on his feet. "They will be married soon. I see absolutely no need for them to get to know each other before then. They have their entire lives for that."
"He's right." Kashi stood as well. "Besides, it encourages Zina (adultery). A boy and a girl shouldn't even talk or look at each other before they are married. This has been the culture for ages. How could you even propose such atrocity?"
"It's fine by me." Zakari's hoarse voice could finally be heard. "As my mother said, we have the rest of our lives for that."
"It's decided then." Alhaji Sayuti sat back down and grinned; showing off his yellow, decayed teeth, like a trophy.
"Larai, go into the kitchen and bring them some refreshments." Nna wiggled her brows. "The zobo and kunun aya you prepared earlier."
"Okay, Nna." She stood and dashed out of the room as if she was waiting to be told.
Emerging from the hut, she released her suppressed breaths and placed a hand against her racing heart. Inside, she felt she would suffocate at any moment. Everything was just too vague for her to fathom.
Even after she had served them and they had to their fills, the guests still didn't leave. They stayed for almost three more hours, conversing and laughing heartily like they didn't have a single problem whatsoever.
Larai returned to the kitchen. She could hear their throaty laughter. Her face scrunched up in irritation, at the thought of getting married to the old filthy man, who already had a family. She didn't even realize she had been crying until she felt the salty taste of tears slip into the corner of her mouth.
Her life was slowly taking an abrupt turn and she had absolutely no control over it.
"Why are you doing here all alone?" Larai's younger sister, Azumi, suddenly appeared out of nowhere and inquired.
Larai rushed to wipe the lone tear from the side of her face, but her aim was futile, as Azumi had already seen it.
"Are you crying, Ya Larai?" Azumi asked further, taking a seat beside her on the long wooden bench.
Several times, Larai had told her younger sibling to stop adding the prefix ya to her name, but she was unyielding. She preferred to be called plainly by her name. But it seemed to be impossible for her. She was so used to adding the prefix to every single person that was older than her. Not just in the house, but in their neighborhood at large. It was a sign of respect, she knew, but she just didn't like it. It always made her feel like an old lady.
"Why? Is something wrong?" Worry laced her voice.
Larai looked at her younger sibling sadly, knowing fully well the same fate would befall her soon. "I'm fine, Azumi." She waved a hand, dismissing the topic, for she knew no matter how hard she tried to explain things to her, she might not understand.
"Alright." Azumi shrugged. "Nna told me you're going to be married soon!" She clapped her hand and jumped. "I'm so excited. I can't wait to invite all of my friends. We will have lots to eat, drink and dance till day breaks. Yay! Now, I'm impatiently anticipating my own wedding day. I can't wait any longer."
Larai shot her a glare and raised a brow. "How old are you again?"
The younger girl furrowed her brows. "Fourteen?"
Larai took a minute to examine her younger sister properly: Her body had just recently started to develop. She hadn't even seen her first menstruation yet. She wasn't an early bloomer and there she was, already speaking of getting married. "Focus on your studies instead," Larai said, rolling her eyes at her.
The young shall surely grow, but in the meantime, she shouldn't force herself into premature growth.
"But, Nna sai—"
"Please just leave me be," She said, a frown etching her demeanor.
Azumi's head hung. "Okay," she said, then gloomily walked away.
Larai rolled her eyes. "Now, I'm anticipating my own wedding. I can't wait any longer." She mimicked, contemptuously.
•
Two weeks passed by like a rocket. Besides the wedding preparations, nothing had really changed in their lives. As usual, she was busy cooking in the kitchen, when she heard her mother, calling for her.
"Larai! Larai!!" Nna screamed in her usual high-pitched voice.
"Na'am," Larai responded and dashed out of her hut to hers.
"I sent Azumi on an errand to the nearest village. While she isn't back, you should go to the stream and fill the drums. We're running out of water already."
"I was even planning to do that before you called." She heaved a sigh.
"Alright. You may leave." Nna waved a hand, dismissively.
Larai didn't waste a second, before turning around and leaving the kitchen for the stream.
A few minutes later, she was returning from the stream, with a jerrican of water on her head, when someone emerged from the nearby bushes and blocked her path. By his physique, she could tell it was a man. He had a hat covering his face, so she couldn't pinpoint who he was. She attempted to move to the other side, but then again, he got in front of her.
Irked, she put down the jerrican and gnashed her teeth in annoyance. "Who are you? And why are you in my way?"
He raised his head, taking off his hat. He chuckled, grotesquely. "Don't tell me you've forgotten me so soon."
Oblivious to who he was, Larai glared at the middle-aged man. "I'm sorry, Baba, but I think you're mistaken. I don't think I have ever seen you before." She sneered.
"I will remind you then." He paused for a while, before speaking. "I'm your husband."
Larai burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter.
When her laughter subsided, she huffed. "you can't be…" Her voice trailed off when the realization hit her like a speeding truck. "You're...?"
He smirked, almost wolfishly.
"I didn't know it was you, I'm sorry for being rude," she apologized, lowering her gaze.
Because she did not get the chance to take a proper look at him, she couldn't recognize him earlier. She cringed in disgust—he was even older than she had imagined.
He smirked. "It's okay, chichin mi. (My love)."
This time, she visibly cringed at his choice of endearment for her. She had always loved love, but hearing the word emerge from his lips, made it sound so ugly. "What... are you doing here in our village?" She smartly changed the subject of discussion.
He ran his wrinkled hand into his disheveled beards. "To see you, emi mi (my wife)."
"Me?" She touched her chest in surprise. She knew she was inevitably going to get married to him, but hearing him refer to her as his wife had a nauseating feeling surmounting her. "Why? For what reason? I mean... aren't we supposed to stay away from each other, until the..." She cringed, not being able to utter the word.
"I know I will eventually get married to you someday, but seeing you the other day, I haven't been able to sleep. I constantly dream of running my hands over your curvy body and—"
"My mother is waiting for me." She cut him off again, looking everywhere, but him. His words made her uncomfortable to the point she felt like throwing up all over his filthy body. She didn't want to be disrespectful, but his words were already starting to provoke her. What a pervert he was! "I'm sorry, I have to go." She picked up her jerrican and attempted to walk away, but when he grabbed her arm, it sent chills down her spine, like a dead person had grabbed her.
"What... are you doing?" she asked, stuttering—her demeanor contorted in fear. "Please let me go," she pleaded.
"Why?" he asked, his voice oozing tyranny. His gaze bored into hers. "I came all the way from Tswasha to Sallawu and this is how you treat me? Might I remind you, I'm going to be your husband in a month? I'm not someone you should shy away from. In fact, you're supposed to be in total submission to me, as your husband to be."
"Just let me go, please." She begged again and snatched her arm from his grasp.
"Let you go?" he asked, mockery etched on his voice. "Not until I have had my way with you. You better don't waste my time. Let's get this over and done with. I'm a busy man."
Larai's eyes widened in horror and tears glistened in them. "Don't! Please. I can't lose my virginity before the marriage." Her whole body trembled.
"Why does it matter when I'm going to be your husband anyway?" He smirked and before she could comprehend what he had in mind, he placed both of his hands on the top hem of her blouse and ripped it into two, exposing her braziers in the process.
Instinctively, her arms flew over her chest and she took in a sudden breath. "We are going to be married soon. Please wait for a little bit more." She attempted to convince him otherwise, but her words fell on deaf ears.
"That's the problem. I can't wait any longer. Our parents are against us seeing each other before the marriage is finalized. This is the only way I can think of to satisfy my desires."
"You have a wife, don't you? Please just let me go." In an attempt to free herself from his iron grip, she scratched his hand with her fingers, but his grip on her arm only tightened.
He massaged his head in exasperation and shot her a glare. "Eating the same dish every day, you will eventually get tired of it. That's the case with me right now. I want to taste a different delicacy." He licked the side of his lips.
Larai suppressed the urge to regurgitate the chyme content of her stomach, through her mouth.
Men are dogs!
"Quit wasting my time. I'd advise you to submit, this way, it would be less painful for you," he said, playing with his beards.
Realizing he was hellbent on carrying out his devious intentions, no matter how much she begged, she did the first thing that came to her mind. She bit him on the hand, hard, until she felt the metallic taste of blood in her mouth and kicked him in the groin.
He let go of her and screamed, throwing his head back.
Larai took that as her cue to escape. Without looking back, she ran as fast as her legs could carry her. She didn't stop running until her toe collided with a rock and she fell flat on her face.
Before she could gather the strength to get up, she heard the sound of footsteps fast approaching. Her breathing quickened and she attempted to get on her feet, but she ended up falling again, due to exhaustion. Blood oozed out of her toe. "Please have mercy on me," she cried when she sensed a figure hovering over her petite one.
•
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Larai. Have you heard the name before?
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