"Accept what is, let go of what was and have faith in what will be"
~~~
Dated 130years ago, Pawa Empire.
I have heard multiple tales of weddings that fail to take place, of men that reject their brides, of runaway brides, but never have I heard of a Prince that rejected a Princess, and little did I know that the first of that kind I would hear will be mine...
I was engaged to be married to my cousin Sultan. All was going on smoothly, only for me to wake up one morning to my father telling me our wedding had been cancelled, reason because, Sultan had fallen in love with another lady. Khairi!
"What they're saying Yaya Sultan... is it true?" I asked him, hoping for it to all be a dream.
"I'm sorry Batuul, it's true" he answered, not meeting my gaze.
I wanted to bore whatever was in my mind to him. To tell him how hurt I was, to ask him what wrong I did to deserve that, to tell him I will never forgive him. But instead, the only words that came out were,
"I hate you!"
He looked up shocked at my statement, but I didn't give him another chance to speak, with tears streaming down my eyes, I ran off, not wanting to hear wherever he had to say, because I know, whatever it may be will hurt.
I made for my chamber but on a second thought changed my mind and headed to the servants quarters instead. Khairi was the reason I'm in pain right now, and for that she also has to feel the pain along with me. I will not go down without a fight, and if at all I'm going down, we are doing so together.
I banged the door to their room open, there she was with another maid Larai, who was applying henna on her hands. Henna to entice Yaya right? I see.
They were startled as they both stood up.
"Get out" I curtly dismissed Larai and turned around to face Khairi who flashed me a smile and just like that, fresh anger resurfaced in me and before I knew it, I pounced on her and started beating her.
I have never fought in my life, have always been a bully right from childhood, my victim was always Maryam my friend, whenever she got me angry, I beat her up and later on console her and we continued playing. I never apologize, I found it hard to, it wasn't in my nature to apologize. I tried my bullying on my brother Khalil a couple of times, until he was old enough to try to fight me back one day. I never bullied them again, for fear of losing, because again, it wasn't in my nature to lose!
But now that fear of being a loser was back and that doubled my anger to which I unleashed on Khairi. I never knew I had this much strength until today. Anyways they say anger brings out the strength in a person, because right now, I could not only beat Khalil, but ten more of his kind.
I was beating her, shouting, cursing. But she didn't bug, she didn't try to dodge the beating, she didn't even cry. She just stood there and let me beat her, she was calm, like the submissive servant she had always been. And that got me more frustrated, because instead, I was the one crying.
I never expected this from her of all people.
"You slave..witch..daugh...daughter of..of a nobody!" I stammered "How could you, how could you do this to me."
The fact that Khairi didn't show any sign of pain even though her nose was already bleeding and she had a fresh cut across her left eye angered me the more. Her now messed up henna, stained her clothes, mine too.
I flopped down in frustration, covered my face with my palms and cried my heart out. After awhile, I felt a gentle touch on my knee, followed by Khairi's voice, calm as ever.
"My princess, I don't know what I have done to you, but whatever it may be that I did, please find it in your heart to forgive me."
"You have the guts to ask for my forgiveness after enchanting Yaya? Little wonder he was very fond of you, always standing in for you" I shook my head "And you sit here telling me you know nothing about it, expecting me to believe you, who exactly do you think you're fooling?"
I jerked her up by the collar as she still gave me a blank look. "Tell me what he saw in you to think you worthy of being his wife over me! Have you grown so bold to think you can be my competition? You, a slave, a nobody!
I saw the shock in her eyes as she started crying
"I have never spoken more than a few words to the Prince apart from greetings my Princess. By Allah I know nothing about this" she went on her knees and begged.
"You bit the finger that fed you Khairi, and for that you have to leave. If I can't have him, neither will you." I wasn't falling for any of her plots. What a hypocrite she is!
"Have mercy on me Your Highness, I have nowhere to go to from here" she pleaded.
"You should have thought of that before skimming your way into the Prince's heart" I harshly replied, not paying any heed to her pleas.
"Do you want me to send in the guards to throw you out?" I threatened, as I saw she had no intention of going.
"There will be no need for that, I will go. But before I leave, I want you to know this." she wiped her tears on her sleeves.
"I have served you to the best of my ability all through the five years I have stayed in this Palace. I put up with all your authoritativeness, you always see fault in whatever I do. Your bed is always unlaid, your food undone, your plates unclean or your fruits unwashed. You never appreciate even though you know I do whatever I ought to do, and well that is.
You always refer to me as a slave, whatever have I done to deserve this hatred from you? Well even if I'm a slave, I didn't make myself one. This is where Allah wants me to be, and I'm forever grateful to Him.
And today you throw me out of your father's house, for a crime I didn't commit, for something I know nothing about. I want you to know that I'm innocent of all your accusations. Also, be that as it may, I forgive you."
I felt remorseful for the hurtful words I uttered and how I have been treating her all this while, for indeed, all she said was true. However, on a second thought, it might be all in her plots of snatching Yaya away from me. No way was I falling for that.
"Just go, and don't take anything along with you, because you didn't come to this Palace with anything" I said sternly, with a wave of my hand.
Outside, the rain was still falling heavily as she made her way out of the Palace, never to return, I thought. I was ready to face the consequences of sending her away...
***
Immediately I entered my room, I flopped down on the bed and cried into my pillow. I wasn't sure what I was crying for anymore, was it because of Yaya's rejection or what Khairi told me? Whatever it might be, I cried for what almost was.
I was almost drifting into sleep when I heard gentle knocks on the door
"Who is there?" I managed to ask in a croaked voice
" It's me...Can I come in?" came Umma's voice
After awhile I replied "Sure"
One end of the bed went down as Umma sat, gently removed the pillow I laid my head on, and placed my head on her laps, gently stroking my hair.
"Bingel am *my child*." she whispered. Umma rarely spoke Fulani, while everyone spoke to us in Fulani, she spoke Hausa, saying she wanted us to learn her tongue.
"I'm sorry for what happened my dear" she continued "I assure you that non of us planned for things to turn out this way. Not even Sultan"
"Do me a favour Umma please." I sprang up and held her arm "Never mention his name in my presence again, I hate him!" I spat.
"No my child, don't ever say that. Hate is too strong an emotion for a child like you to play with" she shook her head "You are obviously very angry at him, but it shouldn't cloud your sense of judgment."
"What else do I say Umma, why me."
"Everything happen for a reason my dear, for the best I suppose"
"You call this the best? Have you thought of the heartache he just caused me? The mockery, the shame? It's for the best you say?" I asked in disbelief, fresh tears streaming out of my lids.
She shook her head sympathetically and heaved.
"A woman's heart is soft and fragile my dear, it falls in love with the one that cares for it, cherishes it, nurtures it, treats it with kindness. But my child, same cannot be said about a man's heart, when a man is in love, it's very difficult for the heart to love another, very rare. His fresh heart can fall in love with that which he never intended, but once the heart is occupied, it's very difficult for the other to find a spot in it.
It is true that a man may have more than one wife, and treat them equally, but deep down, the heart knows whom it loves, the others are just commitments.
I say this is the best for you because I don't want you to be a victim, of one who loves another, whom's heart is yet with another.
If you marry Sultan, you will be happy, he will respect you, he will show you that brotherly love he had always had for you as as sister, but that love you seek my daughter, that husband wife love might never be there.
There is a possibility that he might never fall in love with you, because you are not the woman he seek, because you don't have that which he seeks, his heart already belongs to another. And for that he might never be happy, you love him, seeing him unhappy will cause you sadness too. As your parents Batuul, that's not what we want for both of you. We want the best for you, for you both to be happy." she smiled reassuringly when she saw that I was listening attentively.
"I have never told you this, but my marriage with your father was an alliance, a seal, the price my father had to pay, to protect our kingdom from enemies attack.
Ours was a small Hausa kingdom, situated amidst vast Fulani powerful Empires. The Fulanis didn't take it well that a small Hausa community probably living on their forefathers lands had their sovereignty. Many of them wanted to have us under them, my father the King kept wading them off, until it came to a point where he could do no more, going to war wasn't the best option because our army wasn't that powerful.
My mother died when I was about two years old. I was her child. She was my father's first wife, he had three other wives. Even though he treated them justly, they all knew my mother was the one he married for love while they were only his mother's choice.
I heard my grandmother detested my mother, and so did my stepmothers. Even after her death, the hatred shifted to me, for I was of her blood and flesh and she suckled me, they said. And for that, I was just as good as my mother to them.
My grandmother didn't keep to her words of taking care of me, I was left in the care of the servants, that motherly love and warmth, I never felt.
Allah sent solace to me in form of my cousin, who moved in with us when I was nine. Zahradeen was his name....Zahra, Zahradeen." she shook her head again, tears welling up in her eyes
"He was three years older than I was. He became an elder brother, a friend and a confidante. He thought me the alphabets, played with me, was there for me, protected me from the my stepmothers' taunts. Before that, I was a shadow in my own father's house. I grew very found of him and as the years went by, so did friendship metamorphose into love between us.
I was sixteen, Zahradeen nineteen, when we decided to get married. We had my father's blessings, wedding preparations were going on. Then out of nowhere, my father cancelled the wedding.
The kingdom was in danger, something had to be done, my father wanted to seek for protection from one of the powerful Empires around, Pawa Empire, this particular Empire was among his options because your uncle, Sultan's father, the then Emir was known for his kindness.
He agreed to protect our kingdom, and as a sign of gratitude, my father suggested the alliance. A marriage between me and the Emir's younger brother, your father.
You will be safe with them my daughter, that I assure you. Please do this for me, for our kingdom. I'm your father, I want the best for you. My father held my hands and pleaded.
His eyes said it all to me. He was helpless, and desperately in need of my help. I saw nothing but pure love in my father's eyes. I knew he had my best interest at heart. If getting married to your father was what will make him happy, then I was ready to sacrifice my love for Zahradeen as my quarter to the protection of my kingdom, just to put a smile on my father's face. To make him proud, a proud king, and father.
I will marry him father, I will do what ever you want me to do, and even more. I answered sincerely.
May Allah bless you Fatima, I know a daughter of Fatima will never let me down. You remind me so much of her. She will be proud of you, just like I am. He said referring to my mother. I hugged him tightly and cried. I was scared, of how to face Zahradeen, of the new life I will soon be living with the Fulanis.
I'm so disappointed Zahra, I never expected this from you, the woman I love with all of me. He spoke calmly, his eyes not the slightest revealing the emotions behind them, boring into mine. I averted his gaze. Yaya, I can expla... I don't need any explanations from you, I wish you all the best in your marriage, but just know that, in life, you can only love once, mine was you. For me, there is no more love... No more love at all Zahra... That said, he left, not giving me a chance to explain or ask for forgiveness. I never saw him again till I got married and left.
I started a new life after marriage. Sultan's mother welcomed me warmly into the family. She was that mother, that sister and that friend to me. I can't start describing her kindness to you. With her, my fear of being referred to as outcast varnished because no one dare called me khaďo *outcast*. She didn't mind that I was from a small Kingdom, a Hausa Kingdom. She didn't mind that my husband was her husband's subordinate, that she was a Queen or that she was from an Empire even more powerful than Pawa, she never rubbed it on my face, she just treated me well because her husband entrusted me to her.
Slowly but surely, your father began to love me, and gradually, I grew to love him too."
She turned around to face me, and held my hands firmly "Do you know why it was easy for your father to fall in love with me?" I shook my head.
"Because his was a fresh heart, he had never been in love before." she smiled.
"Sometimes I feel guilty for loving your father, I feel like I have wronged Zahradeen for doing so. But matters of the heart are left only to the heart. You can't tell the heart who to love or who not to. It just decides on it's own."
"What happened to Zahradeen then?"
"He got married, to a lady by name Rumaisa. She had two daughters for him, he named the first Zahra. He still named the second Zahra too. He was emotionally unstable, he never grew to love her. People referred to him as Majnun Laila. He was never happy again.
This also made his wife unhappy. He hated my father, his ego was bruised. Years later, he quietly divorced Rumaisa, left the Kingdom and never returned, till this day."
She was crying, her whole body shaking and it was my turn to console her "Please stop crying Umma, it's not your fault that you were married off to Abba, neither is it your fault that you fell in love with him or that Zahradeen's life got ruined. It is all Qadr Allah."
"And that's exactly what I want you to understand Batuul, accept destiny in what ever form it comes to you, whether good or bad. Allah knows best and He is the best Planner!"
"Are you sure Umma?" I started sobbing again, as if remembering the situation at hand.
"I'm very sure Batuul. I don't want you both to end up like Rumaisa and Zahradeen, if he is being made to marry you. If anything goes wrong, it will severe family ties. Do you want that to happen?" I shook my head. This was too much for me, I thought.
"You might not understand your father's reaction, but Sultan is an orphan and a trust to us. And how can you make that which was entrusted to you unhappy, what will we tell Allah on the day of resurrection?
My advice to you is this: never marry a man with a bruised heart because it hardly heals, and if eventually he falls in love with you, then maybe he never truly loved the first as he thought he did.
Marry the one that loves you, not the one you love. Let Sultan go Batuul, his heart is not with you. Let him seek for his happiness where it lies, Allah will grant you yours with time. Be patient and never relent, pray.
"But why do you think he chose her over me, is it because I'm fat, does he think I'm not beautiful enough?"
"Not at all my dear, you never really can tell what a man's taste is in a woman. Don't let your insecurities get the better of you. You're a beauty to behold. You're a typical African woman. The African woman is not slim, the African woman is plumpy, curvy and beautiful. That's you Batuul. You are chubby, adorable and just so beautiful" she playfully pinched my nose and her words made me smile. I truly believed her.
And true to Umma's words, Batuul was the most beautiful among her peers. Sultan's taste surely goes beyond beauty.
"Sultan has his mother's kind heart, I see her in him, please forgive him, he is your cousin, you have thesame blood running through your veins and you can never really blame a man in love. I'm sure it's for the best." she said pleadingly.
As she said that, I regretted sending Khairi away. Maybe she was saying the truth, that she knows nothing about it. And even if she did know, as Umma said, I could never really blame them. But the deed was already done.Ya Allah! What have I done.
I opened my mouth and almost told Umma but changed my mind and asked her something instead "So your name is Fatima?" I asked amused. She laughed and replied.
"Ofcourse, every Zahra is a Fatima."
"I was given your name then?"
"You were given my mother's name, her name was also Fatima Batuul. And I was named after my grandmother too. I was initially called Hajia, until Zahradeen came and started calling me Zahra, and the name stuck."
I smiled and laid my head on her laps. I was determined to move on, even though I know it did take time, but I was willing to try.
Perhaps Yaya and I were not meant to be, or maybe, we were meant not to be....