Chapter Nine
A Few Minutes After Fajr prayer the next day, Fatiha got a message from Hussaini asking if she could meet up with him by 2pm. She had agreed. Better to get this over with and out of the way, she'd decided.
So, there she was, seated across from her elegantly attired sister who had no idea what it was she was doing in the newly refurbished restaurant in town or what it was she was about to do in place of her sister.
Madinah who was three years younger than Fatiha, petite with a long face and upturned eyes was dressed to the nines in a beige high waist pleated skirt and a brown form fitting long sleeve top with a mock neck. Her black jersey scarf was fashioned into a small but modest hijab style that she'd made sure covered her small bust area.
As a makeup expert and a professional makeup artist, Madinah had knocked on Fatiha's door all chirpy with her wide glossy terracotta lips and perfectly made-up face, and had asked to make her sister up but had been gently turned down.
Fatiha checked the time on the too-tight leather wristwatch strapped to her good wrist for the third time. Auntie Halimah had gifted it to her among other things when she'd graduated from secondary school years back.
Fatiha glanced behind her sister as she searched for her mother's choice of a prospective spouse. He was five minutes late. Ya Allah. She breathed through her nose. Why couldn't people just stick to time? She hated African time, but she had never hated it more in her life than she did today. She shifted uncomfortably in her small plastic chair.
"Didn't you say this was a me-you day? What are we waiting for? Why aren't we ordering yet?" Madinah agonized in her southern drawl, her eyes flying up from the screen of her phone to question her sister. Her dark eye makeup granted her eyes the illusion of a brewing storm, one Fatiha hoped she wouldn't witness until the day was over.
Madinah, unlike Zarah and Nafeesah had what was known as a nasty temper. One she'd gotten from their mother.
Fatiha who only had on a plain lipgloss and was dressed in a white and purple A-line tulip gown blinked back at her sister. "Erm, I just..." She began just as out of the corner of her eyes she sighted Hussaini.
Fatiha watched as the average height and trim built thirty year old sauntered the short flight of steps that led up to the restaurant. His coffee colored skin matching perfectly with the white embroidered kaftan he had on reminded Fatiha of whipped cream on a perfectly baked chocolate cake.
There was a humble grace with which he carried himself that made Fatiha breathe in ease. For a second she had feared it might have been Hassan coming to prank her whilst pretending to be his brother, but it was Hussaini. She guessed it was a good thing Hassan's arrogant gait was very distinguishable.
As realization slowly dawned upon her, Fatiha sprang to her feet, muttering something about using the toilet to a puzzled Madinah as she went.
"Well, I'm ordering!" Her sister called after her.
Without sparing her sister any sort of response, Fatiha scurried down to the restroom where she spent an anxious thirty minutes, while pretending to have diarrhea.
At around 2:45pm someone came into the restroom. Fatiha heard the door of the other stall creak open and close as the person went in. She could hear the person through the thinness of the wall both stalls shared pissing, then the sound of the latrine flushing filled the room and all the while click-clack sounds accompanied the unknown lady's movement.
The stall's door once again opened and banged shut as the lady exited, she turned on a tap and then after sighing called out in a drawl, "You don't intend on staying there for the rest of the day, do you, Fatiha?"
Sheepishly, Fatiha opened her stall's wooden door and came out. She pinched her lips together and folded her hands together, before asking, "Is he still there?"
Her sister didn't need any explanation as to who Fatiha was referring to. Instead, the smaller lady turned sharply from the mirror on her ankle strapped heels to glare hotly at her. "You lied to me," she said simply, not bothering to ask questions because that was who she was.
Fatiha sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I just..."
"Whatever," Madinah flipped the apology aside with a scoff. "I was expecting to have a bonding session with you but you brought me in as your third wheel, which by the way is not cool. Why did you run away when you saw Hussaini?"
Fatiha hesitated. She had hoped to keep the topic of hers and her mother's discussion a thing that would never be spoken of again. That perhaps if Hussaini didn't see her today he'd forget about their mothers plans and she'd be free to focus on other things. But now, she mused as she watched her sister with her arms crossed and her beautiful face ruffled into utter displeasure, Fatiha figured for her sake she could at least tell one more person.
"Mommy arranged it." She confessed.
Madinah quirked a perfectly drawn brow, silently asking for further details.
Blowing out a sigh, Fatiha disclosed their mother's plans for herself to her sister who seemed to grow speechless with each passing moment.
"So, Mommy wants you to call your engagement with Faisal quits, so you can marry Hussaini?" The younger girl asked.
Fatiha nodded. "Yes."
"Well," Madinah began as she turned from her sister to the mirror. She adjusted her hijab then retouched her makeup. "Then it's a good thing I no longer have feelings for him or I'd probably hate you forever for even thinking about seeing him. But if you did marry Hussaini, I wouldn't have to bother about paying for food." She teased.
Fatiha scrunched up her face, angry lines appearing at the center of her dark, thin brows. "Well, I'm not marrying him."
Madinah brought her hands up in surrender. "So, what is your plan?" she questioned, locking gazes through the mirror. "What are you going to tell Mommy?"
"That it didn't work out, of course," was Fatiha's response.
Her sister snorted. "Yeah, well, good luck with that. I'll make sure not to be around when she's tearing the house apart because of you. She'll be furious. You know that."
Full of uninvited remorse, Fatiha hung her head. "I know, but she can't just tell me to end things with Faisal. We've been together for years, I'm sure he'll—"
"Look, do what you want to do, I don't really care." Madina stated with a shrug, interrupting her sister. "It's your life not mine. But I hope you're turning Hussaini down with concrete reason. I know you love Faisal or whatever, but do not let that emotion blind you. It'll cause you to lose things and regret big time. Mommy is just doing her part as a mother." Reluctantly, Madinah glanced at her sister before asking, "Honestly, I just don't understand. What can Faisal give you other than a smile?!" She demanded ludicrously.
Fatiha fisted her hands together. Her body simmered with rage but she couldn't afford to get angry at her sister, not after what she'd just pulled. "Smiles are a form of happiness and happiness brings peace. Faisal will give me that. You both don't know him that well to think that way. He's a good man, that is all you need to understand."
"Maybe I don't," Madinah nodded, "but I know you and I know you're just letting fear cloud your judgment. You're just scared you'll never find another person who'll accept you for who you are! Some smiles are forced and those sort of smiles bring pain."
"Well, what do you know?!" Fatiha snapped. "You're thin and pretty and you don't have Mommy breathing down your neck every second of the day telling you to lose weight or leave the one man who has always cheered you on. You get everything you want. You don't have insecurities weighing you down." She accused, her eyes big and her breathing rough.
Madinah was silent for so long it was a long enough time for Fatiha to realize what she'd just done. She gasped, taking a step back. "Oh my God, I'm sorry."
Shame plastered itself onto her face like a second skin. She'd snapped, contrary to what she'd told herself not to do.
"Maybe some of us prefer to fight our insecurities than get buried underneath them, while praying for a saviour." Her sister finally voiced, and it was with loath. "Mommy doesn't see our fats or bones," she pointed out, "all she sees is how different we are from being her ideal child. And I show her what she wants to see." She disclosed with a little grim smile, then her eyes too on a sharp edge. "If that makes me the bad person here, well, then fine. I'll be the bad person. I couldn't possibly be bothered by that anyway."
"I didn't know," Fatiha whispered.
Her sister snickered as she moved towards the door. "I don't go about weeping over it like you do, so how would you?" she queried nastily. "Anyway, to answer your earlier question, yes, he's still here and since this date has now become a hot mess, I'll take my leave." She began to leave but turned back. "Talk to Hussaini or not, it's your business. Not mine." And she was gone.
Fatiha broke down the moment the sound of her sister's heels disappeared down the hall. She clutched the ceramic hand bowl and doubled over as she forced herself to breathe. She shook her head over and over again, while her body trembled as she replayed the words "This wasn't how it was supposed to go" over in her head.
After she had calmed down a bit, she schooled her emotions and willed her body to follow suit as she decided that the only way to counter her mother's plans was to address it directly. So, she washed her face, reapplied her lipgloss and made her way back to the table where Hussaini Shagari was still seated and waiting for her.
"Asalamu alaykum." Fatiha greeted as she reached her guest.
Hussaini replied to the greeting of peace as he looked up. "Are you alright?" Was the next sentence that spilled from him as he watched Fatiha settle herself back into her seat. Madinah was long gone.
Fatiha pulled her glass of water close to her before taking a sip. She avoided eye contact with Hussaini partly because she had been unable to clear the redness in them, and partly out of guilt. She'd agreed to meet him only to end up making her sister take her place.
"Your sister told me you were not well," the Hausa words tore through Fatiha's fogged brain.
She looked up briefly and nodded once. "Yes," she told him and then slipped into silence.
From her lowered lids Fatiha could tell that her companion was just as uncomfortable as she was. Maybe it was because of the history they shared. She had been oppressed at a young age by his twin brother. She hadn't thought about it before, but perhaps Hussaini felt guilty towards her. With that knowledge something strange and strong sparked in Fatiha that she concluded right there to do something.
She looked up and fixed her gaze directly on her companion. Hussaini who had always been shy diverted his gaze, but as if something had probed him, he brought it back to hold Fatiha's.
"I'm sorry for avoiding you when I agreed to meet you," Fatiha began with a swallow. She could hear the warning bells, envision her mother's thunderous glare when she got the news and feel the tugging in her lower belly as anxiety threatened to take over her body. But the soothing reassurance that came with Hussaini's softly spoken words gave her courage she desperately needed.
"It's okay," he told her and although his face was devoid of any definite expression, Fatiha couldn't see rage or disappointment. All she saw was a ready acceptance for what was to come.
"I know our mother's have concluded that we're a good match," Fatiha resumed, "but I can't accept their proposal. I have someone else I'm engaged to and I want nothing else but to be with him."
Silence greeted Fatiha as response and when it took her companion a while to respond, she hung her head and muttered, "I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry?" Her companion finally asked.
Fatiha jerked her head up to see that although he still didn't have on any distinguishable expression, Hussaini looked more relaxed than he'd been since she'd taken the seat across from him.
"Why should you be sorry? I had no idea this was why my mother wanted me in town." He confided and this time she could point out the emotion he was feeling. The corners of his eyes crinkled and his big lips stretched into an amused smile.
Fatiha released a breath and offered a small smile of her own as she apologized yet again. "I'm sorry you had to come all the way here for nothing."
Hussaini shook his head. "I would have turned you down even if you didn't. I don't have any plans of marrying you, Fatiha. I think that's the only thing I can do for you since I was a coward who couldn't do anything for you when we were younger. I can't let you live through such torment for the rest of your life. Also," he leaned in to whisper, "I have a very humane heart." At Fatiha's arched brows, he elaborated, "It means, I can't be in a life long relationship with someone who hates me. I'll get traumatized and I'll probably die of depression."
For the first time that day Fatiha laughed. She dipped her head to the side, her cheeks growing warm and the corners of her eyes crinkling from the action.
"It's good to see you laugh," Hussaini admitted as he took to his feet. Fatiha followed suit. "I always liked it better than seeing your teary face."
They both stood there in the middle of the packed restaurant and since Fatiha was unable to come up with a reasonable thing to say in return, her no-longer-prospective spouse did.
"I have just two days to spend in town. It's the same with Hassan and after you won't see us again." He cleared his throat before reluctantly spilling what it was he had to say. "I heard Munir's in town."
Gulping, Fatiha nodded in response. She picked up her white mushroom crocheted bag and started for the restaurant's door. Hussaini followed behind her after paying the bill.
"Well, I hope you both come to terms." He said when they strolled the flight of stairs. "He was a lot better than my brother, truth be told."
A snort escaped Fatiha but she made no effort to conceal it. She couldn't possibly think the Munir she knew could be a better person.
"You wouldn't have known this," Hussaini ratted, "but that Eid at Alhaji Ali's place really took a toll on him. He's a good man, Fatiha, I promise."
Fatiha didn't answer. Not because she didn't want to but because she didn't have anything to say. It was hard, really hard to picture Munir as anyone other than the person who'd caused her a lot of grief.
"Well, then!" Hussaini's sharp words propelled Fatiha out of her reverie. "I'll take my leave now. Take care, Fatiha."
Fatiha smiled as she returned his wave of farewell. She watched as he left then with a long haul of breath, turned and started the opposite way towards her own destination.
***
Asalamu alaykum guys. Hope you enjoy this chapter. Please don't forget to vote, comment and share. JazakAllahu khair.
Ma salaam
ZainaHijabi😘