Assalamu alaikum. Here is a little something to get you through the week.
Thanks for the love and support.
Met some amazing girls today at the Gombe literature day event. Here is a shout out to them. Hauwah_UA, the CEO HalimaFactor community Initiative Khadija Kwargana, Aisha Bappi and all of you lovely ladies I couldn't get a hold of your names. Thanks for the love, they were so starry-eyed as if they've seen B and S.😂 We sure got some side glares from some of the guests.
I really appreciate it 💞
***
"Yaa Maryam, why do you have so many bodysprays in your handbag?" Wafiyya asked as she shuffled inside Maryam's handbag, looking for a hairband Maryam had asked her to fetch.
Maryam's hand stopped mid-stroke as she brushed her hair back clenching the long silky mass in her fist.
"Uhm, I like different scents on me. Have you seen the hairband?"
"Yes, got it." Wafiyya passed the blue large hair ruffle to her.
"Thank you."
"Are you coming with us?" Wafiyya asked as she plopped on the charcoal-grey bed-bench in Maryam's room.
"Where?"
"Hajiya has a literature and creativity event with the girls today, we volunteer on Saturdays when I have no school work. Something similar to what we did the last time, but this is a more interactive session."
Maryam carefully analyzed Wafiyya's statement, she had said 'we' did that include him?
"Uhm... Is Ya Mubarak coming too?"
Wafiyya smiled, wiggling her brows at Maryam. "Want him there? I can make him go."
Maryam shrieked, "Wafis!"
Wafiyya chuckled, "Okay, sorry. No, he isn't coming with us. He coaches the boys at the court on some Saturdays some other days he played with his mates, so it's just us."
"He is into sports?" Maryam's eyes popped out. She had to be extra careful then, she wouldn't want to end up as a squash ball someday. No wonder he looked so burly and ripped and...
"Yes, they all are. The Men that is, Ya Mubarak and Ya Bilaal are Basketball players, Ya Salis is into football."
"Okay, then I don't want to be by myself when you all go. I'm coming with you."
"Nang! I'll tell Hajiya then. She had mentioned something about shopping too. You'll love it." Wafiyya said, already giddy before she left the room, Maryam let out a sigh. She didn't know why she had a sinking feeling in her abdomen, but it was there and she didn't like it. But she had to push it aside and thoroughly enjoy her day.
***
Wafiyya was right, she enjoyed every part of the day, and was whipped by the time they returned home in the evening, after their shopping spree. Hajiya Kulthum had taken them around the clothes section of an exclusive store. She had asked Maryam to help her select from every Collection and Wafiyya helped with the colour coordination. Maryam was so overwhelmed she couldn't even remember what all they bought.
At the end of the day, there was a huge shopping bag in her name and Wafiyya had a mini version of hers stashed on a trolley. Maryam had never shopped like that at a go. If she put together all that they had bought that evening she had never bought half of it by herself. Mama did all their shopping during Eid, and she got her Jilbaabs from her Aunt Biba, her mother's sister who resided in Lagos. She was a clothes and small appliances retailer. She sometimes shipped her merchandise to Nigeria from the Middle East or Asia.
When Maryam said her Isha prayers, she had no strength left to look at the things they bought so she passed out on the praying carpet right in the middle of her room.
***
Alhaji Umar Bugaje placed the tea carafe back in its place on the mini-console after pouring himself a cup. He settled in the striped midnight blue armchair in his living room. That was when he heard the faint sound of the door opening. He knew who it was before he turned, yet like the thousand other times his living room door opened during the past twenty-three years, he wished it was someone else.
"Get a cup." He said, leaning back into his easy chair. Mubarak did as his father said then took a spot on the rug next to his feet.
It gladdened his heart to see that despite everything, Mubarak still had a place for him in his heart, he still held him in high regards, and he did best in every challenge that came his way.
Which was why he was disappointed in his son, when he took off on his wedding day, despite all his enthusiasm in the preparation of the said event.
"Where are you with the proposal?"
The saucer and cup rattled in Mubarak's hands. When his father requested to see him, Mubarak had no idea he was getting to this point. Hajiya Kulthum had not spoken to him about the proposal since their little chat. Now he realized they were taking turns, he was stuck in between something like a good cop bad cop situation.
"Uh... Baba we are still getting to know each other, we had four meetings."
"I married your mother after the first."
"Baba that was almost forty years ago."
"What do you mean? We don't have hearts then or we don't know our worth?"
"No, that is not... I'm sorry Baba, we will speed things up in sha Allah and come out with a conclusion."
"This is not one of your property litigations, that girl has a life, and we wouldn't have you putting it at a standstill for her, a proposal was given and received, just because we want your consent doesn't mean we have forgotten your tendencies or what you've done, so you have to present us with a solid response. If you both do not reach a mutual agreement by tomorrow then Maryam is going home and will only return when school opens in two months. So you have a day to make up your minds."
Mubarak could feel the coldness from the film of sweat that coated his forehead. He knew what was at stake, he couldn't just come out and tell his parents he had declined their proposal, he knew to his core that waiting for their consent was just a ruse, his consent was just a validation. Something that would bring him back into the fold.
It had been weeks since he had supper with his father, yet today for the first time since his return, his father had offered him tea, this only meant one thing. It was a peace offering that would only go on as long as he said yes.
On the other hand, there was the risk he was putting Maryam in, he wouldn't promise himself redemption, he didn't even trust himself to be right again, but just as he knew his parents were set on making this alliance happen, Maryam would also go through the same if not worse from her parents.
So, the only way out of this maze was for him to concede. Whatever would happen, Maryam and he would sort it out later.
"In sha Allah Baba, we will. We just need a little more time. That is all we ask for. Seven days, please Baba."
"Seven days." Alhaji Umar said with a finality to his voice. Then he talked business as if he weren't just about to cut Mubarak off from his life.
"Have you heard from your brother this week? I hope you are not letting this come in between you two. Whatever has happened is part of your destinies, I trust you to work things out with dignity."
Mubarak swallowed, this was routine between him and his father, a sitting had never ended where he didn't ask of Bilaal, yet, his father had refused to budge and go to his son. Likewise Bilaal, none of them was budging, he had no idea how long they were willing to take this, but it sure as heck was taking long, twenty-three years was enough to build a nation. Yet the father and son duo still weren't seeing eye to eye at a personal level, it was always professional with them.
"He is good. I've met him, we had a discussion and there isn't any ill feeling between us."
"Maa sha Allah, that is good. Your mother is still worried though."
"Like she is about you two?"
"Mubarak!"
"Sorry Baba, but for how long would this go on?"
There was a little pause before Alhaji Umar spoke. "Have you met your brother?"
"I know, he is stubborn and difficult as a coconut but we have to..."
"Good night Mubarak. Your seven days are almost up, you may want to do something about that. Let's not forget how your little trip has set us back at the firm."
Mubarak held his lips between his teeth, refraining from talking. He had sensed a threat in his father's final statement. His father was not in the mood, he had never been in the mood and he didn't see him being in the mood any time in the near future.
"Good night, Baba."
****
On Saturday morning, they went out with the preteen-group to Holland Park. Maryam wore one of the new clothes Hajiya had gotten her, a light brown long-sleeved chiffon shirt with a Coffee long pleated skirt and a matching scarf wrapped around her head and upper torso.
The girls from the age of seven to twelve were with Maryam and the rest of the team, where they had set up a big canvas in the park on which the kids had been grouped into teams of three or four with an expert to supervise the activities of each group. Their activities for the day were creative and movement arts, sports, nature awareness and creative writing. They had even collaborated with the park's ecology centre to support their event for the day.
The kids would focus on whatever caught their eyes of nature. And translate it to show their inner mindfulness. Which would guide them and help them towards positive change.
Maryam met Raheema and Dahlia who were two volunteers on Hajiya Kulthum's summer team.
Hajiya Kulthum had to be in a meeting with some of the women from the community groups, hence she had left Maryam with some of the other volunteers to oversee things before she got back.
Raheema, a tall South African teacher was married to a Pakistani born British, Yasir, they lived in East London with their two kids. And the ever-smiling Dahlia was a Moroccan doctor, about Maryam's age, she had recently got married to her husband Binyamin.
Maryam could see how taken Dahlia was with her new husband, as she kept talking about the interesting things he taught her, or the things they did together.
Moving past clusters of moms and babysitters scattered around the park, the three of them moved towards a cherry blossom tree, where their group were bundled up painting some parts of the park.
"You really love him," Maryam said, making Dahlia flush crimson. Raheema's phone chimed and she stepped aside to answer it.
"He is a good man," Dahlia said her eyes glowing with apparent love.
"Maa sha Allah, how long have you known him before you got married?"
"Five months. He had been on the lookout for a wife. Well, more like his mother was wife-hunting for him, the first thing he asked through his mother was if I was moving to Florida. I said no, but still considered talking to him over the phone, we spoke once and we knew we could work it out. Our parents set up a meeting and he got called off work to meet me here in London, which is a long story for another day."
Maryam watched as Dahlia flushed a deep shade of red. Her eyes twinkled with joy. "He came down here, and we met. We've talked for almost two weeks thereafter bridging the gap and getting to know all the basics. When our parents asked us both we told them it was a yes. And the Nikaah took place four months later. He moved here three months after the wedding."
Maryam had her hands to her chest when Dahlia was through with her story. "Maa sha Allah, that is amazing and scary."
Dahlia laughed, "It was, but we've never been so sure of anything more than we were of our decisions then. We've been praying for Allah's guidance and choice before we met, our parents were happy about it, Allah has blessed it for us and we found love in it. I don't think I would have chosen a man that is better than Binyamin if I was to do it myself."
Maryam took a long sigh, "Binyamin is a lucky man, may Allah unite you and keep you for each other here and in Jannah."
"Ameen."
After the third activity of the day, which was poetry, Maryam went towards the pond, she found a spot not far from it on the green patch to do a little reflection of her own. Something had shifted within her after hearing sister Dahlia's story, could she also do it? Could Mubarak be her Binyamin?
"Assalamu alaikum," Maryam was startled when she heard the familiar resonating sound of his voice. It always got to her and she hated that it did that.
"Wa alaikumussalam." She responded more out of obligation, while she was thinking of the possibilities of her surviving this marriage if it happened, she had skipped the part where Mubarak was still touchy with the idea of her. She understood it must be difficult for him, not everyone would meet her and like her, she had long embraced that about herself but could he at least acknowledge that she was also going through the same strange emotions? He was even in a better position of taking another wife he found appealing after their wedding, what of her? Had he even thought about her sacrifice?
Maryam didn't turn around, her knees were drawn up, feet placed firmly on the ground. "Is the practice taking place out here today?" She asked.
"Hajiya may take long, I'm here for you if you are through." Mubarak looked towards the direction her eyes were focused on.
He shifted on his feet when Maryam didn't say a word. "May I sit with you?"
She spared him a look, "I'm working, but you can choose a spot."
Mubarak scowled, and she wanted to knock the formation off his face. "Alright?" He asked.
"No."
He sat several feet away from her, facing her. "Okay, honest answers, I like that. So, what is wrong with you?"
"After we bypass the fact that I don't know what this thing is?"
Mubarak pulled his legs up, holding them with his hands at the knee, mimicking her posture. He was dressed in his game gear, a grey sweatshirt, a pair of black sweatpants, and black sneakers. Which showed that he was indeed coming from the basketball practice. He was still spotting the three-day stubble beard, by now Maryam knew he must be trimming it to maintain it this well.
"You're leaving." His words brought her out of her sly scrutiny.
"I'll think you sounded a little accusative right there." Maryam gazed ahead, down at the line of trees that looked like a bed of greens from her vantage point.
"I just thought you would have told me."
"Oh?" Her forehead creased.
"Don't I deserve to know?"
"What are we even doing, what is our future in all of this? Is this even a thing?"
Mubarak swallowed, looking at a flying seed that passed between them, "I understand that you are angry, rightfully so. I've only given you a reason to feel that way. I'm sorry you feel like this. But can you look at things from my perspective too, please? It isn't as easy as it seems."
Maryam's eyes widened, "So what? Are you going to just sweep me under the carpet like I cease to exist, just because you feel I am imposed upon you? Doing that won't automatically put me out of existence, you know."
Mubarak's eyes flared at her statement, and he looked at her as if he knew all her secrets. She quickly averted her gaze.
"I'm not sweeping you under the carpet Maryam, I'm trying to keep you away from a disaster, as much as I want to be selfish and take you as my wife to get into my parents' good books again, I can't do this to you."
"Why? Don't you think I know it will take a lot of effort and sacrifice to make this work? But Ya Mubarak, when life throws a curveball at you, you take the challenge, how you make it useful is all up to you, that's what Uncle J says. Always make use of situations to your advantage because those opportunities will not present themselves in our lives every day. So, Mafia King, all I'm asking is this; Will you marry me? Will you have me? Or are you going to keep up with this..."
Mubarak stilled at her odd request, it clenched his heart with a fierceness that threatened to bring him down to his knees. He felt the trepidation behind her words. They made him wonder what this girl had gone through. Why would she think she was not worthy of someone good? Someone human? He wasn't any of that, he had done things, bad things that made him want to shrink in his own skin.
But for some reason, he related to the pain he saw in her eyes. If that was all it took to take that away from her, to make her feel she was worthy, he could give her that. But until when?
Would he take it to the finish line? He wasn't even sure if he would survive to the finish line. Ya Allah, this was so difficult. At the beginning of all this, Mubarak had never thought he would even consider the whole marriage thing again. Now here he was conflicted on whether to ruin her life or incinerate his. Hence he did what the slightest good remaining in him would do.
"Thought as much." Her statement made him realize that she must have taken his silence as his response.
"You thought wrong. Of course, I will take you as my wife, that is what this is all about, right?"
Maryam blinked and somehow he felt this was not the response she'd hoped to hear from him, her eyes fluttered shut.
"Thank you, Ya Mubarak, can you take me home now?" He couldn't move, he just stared at her, as if searching deep within her soul. For a moment there, he felt as if she had just shared the most vulnerable part of her with him.
He folded his hands over his knees, turning to her, he saw how the breeze played with her scarf, he also noticed that for a change today she was in brown, which unsurprisingly looked good on her. She ducked her head to avoid the glare of the sun, he shifted, casting his shadow as a shade for her.
"Do you want this, Maryam?"
There was a brief pause from her before she laughed until her teeth showed. "Ya Rabbi, who wants to get married to a mafia Lord or king or whatever you go by?" She rolled her eyes.
"Maryam!" He chided.
Maryam watched his Adam's apple bob up and down. She let out a sigh and looked away. "Of course, it is you, Mubarak Umar Bugaje, I will be Mrs Bugaje, do you have any idea what it means to be called that?"
He scoffed. "You can stash that story for your readers, we both know you are not doing it for that. Tell me why you said yes, Maryam. Why you agreed to come here, despite knowing they are just using your studies as a bait."
Maryam swallowed, she had never expected such confrontation from him, but she felt a surge of braveness from within, she could do this.
"I like you, Ya Rabbi! I thought you used to be more confident in yourself than this. Are you too difficult to like? Newsflash," She pointed herself with her thumb. "This girl likes you, deal with it."
Mubarak smiled and shook his head. It is official then, she is from the incredibly crazy ones who are excellent at failing to hide it.
"You are not doing this because your mother wants you to become a Mrs Bugaje?"
She squinted against the glare of the sun, Mubarak shifted to the side resuming his guard as her shade. "What makes you think it is my mother's idea?"
He chuckled. "We should agree on that at least, the fact that she is Aunty Aisha is enough to put everything in neon, who else would do this? Your father? Your father adores you, Maryam. He wouldn't hurt his princess."
Maryam swallowed the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes, "So, because of that you deduced it was my mother's idea?"
His eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled. "Come on, give me a little credit here, Mairo."
Maryam threw her head back and laughed, he almost looked hurt when he thought she considered his theory wrong. Good job Mama, see everyone knows what you are capable of doing.
"Well, that and because you are the only man who knows I wear padded bras- you and my cosmetic vendor back in Katsina. But believe me, I won't do this if I have any doubt in it."
Mubarak laughed, he was blissfully doomed. And he somehow liked that.
"You know about the 'will you marry me' part I asked you earlier? Delete it off your mind, in my village, the man does the asking, so let me know when you have manned up, hmm?"
Mubarak blinked his eyes. He repeated the motion twice and she was still right there as real as the day.
"In my city, the first asking validates the contract. So go ahead and choose a date, Wifey."
"Oh, Ya Mubarak, that is not done, I am not taking this. I have declined."
He had that look on his face again, the look that made her forget her name, it had been long since the look had surfaced. Then as sure as he was of himself his lips tilted ever so slightly, "No, you won't."
By the time they were done talking, the kids were through with their projects, Maryam met her team as they went round to supervise and see the result of the day's exercises. She was surprised when she saw Mubarak actively participating. When they were done reviewing, they packed up and left for the day. There was one more day to complete the month's session. But Maryam's mind was not on the retreat, rather she was still in awe after seeing Mubarak around the kids. He looked so natural with them.
On the other hand, as they drove home, Mubarak felt paralyzed by the events of the afternoon, he couldn't think straight since then. That was not part of his plans. But he had to take charge of things if he was to hold up his end.
***
Four weeks ago Maryam Maigoro was sure she would be rejected by Mubarak Umar Bugaje and she wouldn't even bat an eye when she returned home to her parents. But today, she was looking forward to being accepted by him. Not just that, in these four weeks, Maryam had seen a fraction of Mubarak she thought she had imagined because of how fast they touched and go.
She was afraid of how he made her feel. The reality of her circumstances. She had never been this emotionally raw and weak as she was with Mubarak, she physically felt safe in his presence. She had never felt safe in the presence of a man like she did with him.
That was not on her agenda. She wasn't supposed to be feeling all the... crazy things she felt now, but they were there. And that was the last thing she wanted.
She could sense his resistance, she had never seen a man so intent on not liking her as he. The rest just ignored her, him? He saw her but it felt as if he didn't want to.
Now she gave him the rope, he just had to lead the way.
****
Hmm... Now, this is some situation. 🤔
What's up with these two?😱 Confusion? Mad feelings? Unresolved ishs?
Ah! we shall see ooo.
How was the chappy?
Umm Yasmeen 💞