Was that not the answer he was looking for? She thought jestingly to herself. Ercole had not stopped staring at her with bewilderment to which Hibaaq swallowed her nerves and pursed her lips. Perhaps he thought she was going to make him grovel, though she had no desire to do that. That kind of grovelling was something she'd see in the pictures where the woman got back at her man for being unfaithful. Ercole was far from unfaithful, and right now, he deserved more than anything she could give him.
'When you lose someone dear.' She recalled, it made her feel poignant. The large muscle in her chest trembled. She knew what it was like to lose a parent, and with Allah's grace she was left with the other. She couldn't imagine losing both her mother and father. Hibaaq was disappointed in herself for not being brave enough to call him in his time of
mourning so that she could've given her condolences, and an ear for she was too far away to lend him her shoulder. Even though, she conveyed it through her father it wasn't enough.
Hibaaq raised her knitted eyebrows at the prolonged silence before her father came to the rescue.
"Do you want to court for a while before wedding?" Warsame questioned, looking between the two as Ercole and Hibaaq shared an eloquent gaze before simultaneously replying 'No.' All those routine conversations on the terrace were courtship enough, though it wasn't intended to be. Ercole and Hibaaq knew all there was to know about the other and wanted to grow and learn more not in courting but in marriage, and it was something they both silently agreed on in that one telling gaze.
...
The sun rotated its shift and the soft glowing of the moonlight now illuminated the compassing scales of land as far as Hibaaq's eye could reach as she peered out the kitchen window. She happily stood over the soap filled sink, washing the pots and pans after winning a fair fight against Xalimo and ushering her back home to her family. They had eaten the delicious dinner, and with Xalimo dismissed for the evening Hibaaq could let her fervent thoughts run wild while her hands busied themselves.
She couldn't believe that she was now an engaged woman. It felt so surreal even if it had only happened a couple of hours ago, she couldn't contain the smile on her face. As she finished drying the last pot with a tea towel someone cleared their throat, announcing their entrance and she had a slight feeling of who it might've been. Hibaaq turned around meeting the devoted eyes of her soon to be, standing with his strong arms folded and with a pretty smile on his face.
It felt perfect. The joy of looking at each other without the guilt of being immodest.
"How are you." Ercole asked as he came closer, continuing to keep the respectful distance, though it was close enough for Hibaaq to discern the worry in his eyes. She slowly breathed in, knowing his enquiry was about her wellbeing after the gudniin incident. "Your father told me everything. I'm so sorry, I never -"
"No one expected it, especially me, but Alhamdulillah I was able to leave the situation whole and I wish to never speak about it again — if you'll be kind." She divulged, drying her damp fingers on the apron that tied around her broad hips.
Ercole quickly nodded, taking heed in the weight of her words and believing she would come to speak of her troubles when she wished to. For now, he was beyond glad that she was okay, although he had something else on his chest that he needed relieve.
"Hibaaq, I'm sorry for the way I left." He breathed, sliding a hand across his stubbled chin. "It was childish of me and I need you to know that you did nothing wrong. I thought I'd lost you for good to a man that suited you better than me."
Hibaaq remembered how irked she became once her weeping ceased, then she gradually allowed the misery train to hit its course on her for a couple of months. It was hard, but she managed to drag herself out of it somehow, though shadows of him still haunted her. It terrified her just how easily she could move past things when she was content because all that seemed so irrelevant to her now.
"I appreciate your apology." She replied, tilting her head to one side and witnessing his slow exhale at her answer. Nothing could deny that he was sincere. "And for the record, I can't imagine a man that would suit me better than you, Ercole." She said, timidly, but meant it wholeheartedly. "I hope you see that now that we're engaged." Added Hibaaq, unable to stop the smirk that tugged the corner of her lips.
Ercole palmed his face, the toothy grin behind it couldn't be hidden. He said something lowly in Italian that much resembled a curse word. "I would never be so blind again, Bella."
"Good."
"I just spoke to your father about this" — Ercole started, watching as Hibaaq untied the apron around her hips and leaned against the counter. She threw the damp material across her shoulder as she waited for him to continue, but there was a long beat between his next words.
Hibaaq raised her eyebrows. "What is it?"
"Let's get married," Ercole remarked, causing an entertained chortle to bubble out of her.
"We are." She shook her head, slightly perplexed.
"No, I mean tomorrow." He elucidated, a breath of a laugh in his voice.
"I - why the hurry, don't you want to invite your family, and what about the preparations, nothing is prepared."
"I need to go to Italy first and visit my siblings, I would call but I want to invite them in person, and... I want to uphold my father's promise to stay in touch. Then I have a conference in Zürich. I can miss it, but this could mean well in advancements for the business. As you know I've taken my father's place as ceo of the Rossi corporation." He explained.
Hibaaq still a little winded, simply nodded her head. "I understand, you don't need to miss anything, I know how important that conference is, Aabo is going too. As well as your family, you have to go."
Ercole smiled. "We don't have to if you don't want to, but I'm not going to lie — I just want to be able to hold you." He casually remarked, not realising he'd knocked the very breath out of her lungs not once or twice, but perhaps a couple of dozen times since he came back.
"Alright" — She drawled as she straightened before him. "Let's get married tomorrow." Agreed Hibaaq.
...
"Hibaaq, are you ready?" Warsame knocked on her bedroom door once, hearing the frantic shuffling around the room, though when she finally opened the door she looked as calm and graceful as ever.
"Yes." She breathed, placing sweaty palms on the waist of her white day dress.
"You look beautiful gabaday, don't worry." Warsame assured as she fidgeted around with the white lace. "You can always stay if you want to."
"Aabo, are you sure you gave Ercole your blessings?" Hibaaq shook her head with a quiet chuckle.
"I'm just reminding you that you always have the option." Warsame raised his hands in defence. "I'm not so ready to let my only child go so soon either." Though he said it in a lighthearted way, Hibaaq didn't miss the pensive sadness in his tone. She was his only child.
"Trust me, I want to do this Aabo."
"I know." Replied Warsame, his voice cracking with thickness as he embraced her long and hard. "Let's go."
Hibaaq pulled away and took a hold of his inviting hand and led them down the stairs. She noticed Ercole wasn't standing by the front door, but rather he chose to wait outside, though there was a reason for it. The sunlight. The sunlight was her best auxiliary. It bathed her in golden liquid the moment she stepped out, and Ercole wanted to be gifted with this view for as long as he breathed.
He wasn't the only one who waited outside, her best friends and sisters Layla and Xalimo were there as well as Abdihakeem. In Islam it was required for the two who are getting married to have Muslim witnesses and knowing Ercole's family were non Muslim, Hibaaq brought along the first set of people she knew and held dear to her heart. She needed a wali and wakeel, seeing as she didn't have any siblings they would do just fine in witnessing the legitimisation of their matrimony. She would never stop finding the stunned voices of Layla and her mother on the phone when she dropped the news on them the night before, utterly hilarious. The same for Abdihakeem as they hung his line up with theirs, then shortly after Xalimo's groggy voice as if she had woken up from a century old nap.
Hibaaq still clutching her father's hand, tightened her grip before letting go. She walked over to the dodge charger where they all stood with a shy smile on her tinted lips.
"You are exquisite." Complimented Ercole, his eyes burning into her. She certainly felt the ardour of his gaze, she wondered if the blush on her cheeks would slightly deepen from the heat like how it did in cartoons.
"Thank you." Hibaaq couldn't fit in a compliment of her own as her father strode up, announcing it was time to go. He looked so swell in his white thobe, and with his short hair lightly gelled and perfectly mussed.
Layla came to stand by her sworn sister and locked their arms as she led her to Abdihakeem's car. "You'll be riding with us." She chuckled, leading her away from the feverish eyes of her very soon to be.
When they arrived at the local masjid, Hibaaq couldn't ignore the curious stares from the masjid goers. She even came across her old dusgi teacher and wanted to dissipate, but it didn't matter to her as much as it was awkward. Today was single-handedly the most happiest day in her life, and she wouldn't let any negative comment or distasteful stare get in the way of it.
As expected the nikkah was quick, they simply signed a contract and willingly consented to the marriage in the presence of her chosen witnesses and the Imam, and most importantly, God. Then just like that they were officially, Islamically married.
Hibaaq smiled at the congratulatory comments and the quiet cheer and applause Layla gave once they were done. She quickly engulfed her in a hug swaying them a little. Hibaaq hadn't fully registered that they could now touch as Ercole rose from his position on the plush blue carpets and outstretched his hand for her to take. She stared at it for what felt like forever, but was no longer than a few lengthy seconds. She was so nervous, and the butterflies that inhabited her stomach had not stopped fluttering since she woke up that morning. Slowly, but surely, she placed her hand in his significantly larger one. It hadn't been the first time their hands met like this, though the contact was wholly electrifying and it felt good because it was halal. She didn't get the chance to get used to holding his hand when he ambushed her frame in a strong embrace. Hibaaq virtually melted into his arms, if it wasn't for his sturdy hold, she might've. He held her so tight and sure, it made her limbs weak.
She had always loved that yummy scent on him, and now that he was closer than ever, Hibaaq wanted to catch the scent of nothing else for the rest of her life. She belonged in his arms and he in hers. He was her anchor and she was his. She let out a gleeful laugh as the inevitable tears began a little stream down her heated cheeks.
"I could get used to this." She heard him whisper near her covered ear, his voice also thick with tears. "You've no idea how long I've wanted to do this." He said lowly, causing a pleasant chill to run down her body. Afraid her words would fail her, Hibaaq quickly nodded instead.
...
Their Nikkah was imromptu, nothing was prepared in time for celebration, but Layla and her ritzy mother and Xalimo wouldn't end her day without some sort of occasion.
"I can't believe it!" Layla exclaimed. "You're a married woman now. How do you feel?" She asked with her fist acting as a makeshift microphone. Hibaaq grabbed her fist and loudly cleared her throat as she brought it closer to her mouth.
"I feel splendid, thank you for asking." She answered with a delighted smile.
"I must say though, I am quite disappointed that we aren't getting a wedding. Have you forgotten your roots!" Layla said into her 'microphone'.
"Leave her alone Layla." Abdihakeem grumbled from the driver's seat, shaking his head at his sister's never ending clowning. They were driving back to the Cali residence for a 'surprise' Layla and Xalimo refused to disclose until she saw it for herself. Hibaaq had no idea where they got the time to plan one since their nikkah was so last minute, but she couldn't say she wasn't excited to find out what it was.
Hibaaq once again brought the 'microphone' close. "You will be getting a wedding soon when my... husband returns from his work trip, and no I will never forget my roots." Answered Hibaaq, instantly blushing at Ercole's newly acquired title. Layla squealed as she lightly shoved against Hibaaq's shoulder.
"How does it feel to call him your husband?" She asked, her cheeks flushed pink.
"It feels right." Replied Hibaaq with a simple shrug then a laugh at her friend's sudden timidness "Perfect, in fact."
"That's good, I'm glad." Xalimo voiced from the passenger seat, judging from the rasp in her tone Hibaaq could tell she had been quietly weeping since the ceremony. It threatened her own eyes to start pooling over again. She was so blessed to have such soft hearted people in her life. She didn't realise just how blessed she was when they finally pulled up, and the three women entered the abode to be met with a bustle of people she recognised but didn't personally know, running around with food or decorations in hand. Thereupon her eyes were swiftly covered by slender fingers, and her upper arm was gently pulled by another set of fingers, and she was led up the stairs and into her bedroom.
"What is happening?" Hibaaq questioned once she was sat on her vanity chair, facing her mirror.
"You'll find out soon." Replied Xalimo as she instructed the newlywed bride to unravel her hijab.
Then two whole hours were spent on making Hibaaq look like the most jaw dropping version of herself she had ever seen. She could barely recognise herself as she stood before her closet mirror with a hand on her chest. Her hair was long so much longer than she last remembered as she revelled the wonders of the hot comb that was passed through her obsidian locks. The front of her hair was styled so that her thick bangs framed her face and the rest to be left cascading down her back just above her plump backside. The guntiino, her guntiino was an astonishing piece indeed, fit for an ancient queen to don. It wasn't the traditional guntiino as the patterning and the feel of the fabric much resembled a Dirac, but it was styled to tie one shoulder and leave the other bare, and wrap around her healthy curves almost like second skin. It was a striking royal blue and gorgeous.
"Where did you have the time to even get it." She asked the pair who had spent that time bedazzling Hibaaq until she was that ancient queen.
"A gift from Hooyo." Replied Layla with a watery smile.
"It's beautiful." Xalimo plucked the words right out of Hibaaq'a mouth as she surveyed the traditional gown in all its glory. "You make it even more so." She complimented.
"Thank you." Said Hibaaq. "Thank you for this, and this and everything. I have to go thank your mother too Layla I know she's behind all of it." Hibaaq gestured to her gown and her face, her face all dolled up. She knew a thing or two about makeup, though it seems she never really knew how to master it's potential as her face was painted with such artistry by Layla, the fine artist herself.
There was a knock at the bedroom door, and they all turned to it. Xalimo as if remembering something hastily went to open it. A woman was stood outside smiling as she peered into the room.
"Hoo Habaryar." She handed over a smoking dabqaad moulded of clay and at the centre of it wafted a sweet and earthy musk burning atop a piece of coal. Xalimo retrieved the pot with a quiet thank you.
"We can't forget this." She remarked, instructing Hibaaq to lay her arms out as she toured the smoking clay pot over her garments and her skin and her hair til she smelled completely luscious.
Hibaaq sighed quietly relieved it wasn't unsi Somali, that rich and woody scent that had seeped into the walls of that little cottage. The smell that once reminded her of home, now reminded her of rusty metal tools and an old gurney in a suffocating space with wicked women stalking around. She hated that they made her forever repulse at the smell of it. Hibaaq shook her head, willing her mind to wash over the horrors from the other night. She couldn't let this day be ruined by them after all. She was far away from that cottage and from those heinous women, and far far away from her grandmother.
"Me too please." Layla spread her arms out as Xalimo let out an entertained chortle, and did the same for her peach coloured dress and dark hair that she had gathered into an elegant low bun.
"Are you ready to go down?" Asked Xalimo as she placed the pot down on the vanity table.
"Yes I'm quite eager to see what they've been up to downstairs." Hibaaq replied, her arms dropping to her sides. "I have to ask, where did the men go?" She enquired, spinning around to where Layla stood admiring Hibaaq's gown from the mirror.
"I don't know, Abdihakeem didn't disclose when he left. To do whatever men do I suppose." She shrugged. "But your husband has been instructed to stay away until his queen is thoroughly entertained." She giggled, her brown eyes lighting up with mischief before she said. "Then he can do the rest of the entertaining later in the" — Though before her words could reach a full stop and Hibaaq's eyes could widen any further, Xalimo thwacked Layla's upper arm and pulled her away.
"I think it's time to join the party." She declared, clearing her throat. Then she opened the bedroom door and gestured Hibaaq to walk through. And so Hibaaq did, her gasp lodging in her throat as she halted at the top of the staircase. She wasn't even downstairs and yet she marvelled at the assortment of flowers and green vines that wrapped around each sides of the oak wood banister. The flower trail continued down the foyer every step she took within the makeshift runway of peonies and marigolds and roses and lilies. They led her all the way to the garden, under the moonlit sky. The strung up lights along the tall grass hedges did wonders to the royal blue of her gown as it glimmered and gleamed brightly in harmony with the rainbow of colours that inhabited their spacious garden. It was a dream, a dream come true.
Gasps and coos of awe reached her ears and Hibaaq smiled shyly at the women who peered at her from the sidelines of the botanical runway they had made for her.
"Oh, boqoradii has arrived!" Auntie Idil cooed the loudest as she stepped in front of her and gently grabbed her elbows as she viewed her. "You're dazzling." She praised before pulling her into a hug.
"Thank you for the dress and the party, Eedo." Replied Hibaaq.
"It's the least I could, I wish I could've done more."
Hibaaq softly shook her head, her hair swaying with as she assured it was everything and more. Then she thanked Xalimo's mother for preparing the delicious food that she had smelt from all the way upstairs, and for decorating the long table with a feast fit for a king. As well as all the other women and girls that had helped. She recognised some of them from school or dugsi and others from her nurse training, then her eyes spotted professor Ulusow. Hibaaq let out a delighted chuckle as she made her way over to her favourite professor.
"Hibaaq, mabrook ." She congratulated with a proud smile on her delicately aged face.
"Professor Ulusow," Hibaaq greeted, returning her bright smile.
"Come it's going to start soon." Layla trailing close behind gave Hibaaq's old professor a polite grin as she led her away to the circle of women setting up for something and as Hibaaq was led closer her heart sank to the bottom of her stomach. She stared wide eyed at the bongo drums and microphones, her mouth drying up. Her breathing quickened as Layla noticed her best friend turned cold and ashen by her side. "What's wrong?" She lightly nudged her bare shoulder. "Hibaaq, what's wrong?"
'No, not this too!' Hibaaq screamed inwardly. They could've have ruined this for her either, she shouldn't freeze up at the sight of those large drums. They weren't the same as that night, they weren't going to celebrate the end of her anything! They were going to celebrate her marriage. She was supposed to be overjoyed, they were going to jump for her. It was tradition, a diverting and harmless tradition. Hibaaq tried to convince herself of this over and over again, but her body refused to move past just outside the throng of awaiting women. Their eyes were all on her, anticipating her next movements.
Though Hibaaq had no intentions to sit before them and hear those drums beat so close to her. She wanted to get away, and that's what she did. Gathering her watery gown, Hibaaq swiftly spun around and bolted inside the house.
...
Hoo Habaryar - Here, auntie (btw Xalimo isn't the auntie the lady is referring to herself as auntie it's just a thing us Somalis do)
Dabqaad- the literal translation for this is 'fire holder' it's like bakhoor but made of clay.
Unsi - incense
Boqooradii - The queen
Guntiino - Somali traditional gown
Dugsi/ Madrasah - Islamic school