Fatima Zarah had never thought that a day close to this day would ever come. She had been on her prayer mat for what seemed like forever. And even now that the sun had risen and she could see the rays that were eager to bless her already bloodshot eyes, they had bulged through her thick curtains and she could clearly see them.
She heaved a sigh and rested her head on her brought up knees. She had never felt this heavy within. She felt as if a gigantic rock was placed on her chest and also she felt empty. As if all the organs she had in her body had been sucked out by something huge. She knew any minute from now, the noises she heard from the courtyard would be back in her room the moment Hajjo came in and met her where she left her after giving her an earful about how she had to get herself ready before it was time for the marriage to be solemnized.
She wanted to scream at the pitch of her voice, so that Ammi could know there had been a silent war happening within her mind but she had nothing to do about it. She closed her eyes and wished she could sleep, a bit more. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept, the kind of sleep that took away all her worries. Because now, even if she was asleep, her demons fought her through her dreams.
A soft knock came before she heard the door creaked ajar and the intruder walked to where she was seated. She didn't look up until whoever it was placed his hand on her and that was when she realized it was Ammi. And she heaved a sigh within. Because if it was Hajjo, the whole house would have echoed about how she still haven't had her bathe and it left only a few hours for the wedding to be solemnized.
"Fatima Zarah, look up to me." Ammi said with a voice that calmed her down the moment she heard it and Ammi drew her in for a hug.
"Ammi, I feel like dying. Everything is exhausting my soul. I want this to be a dream, I wish I can run away from what's happening in my life right now." She whispered slowly and rested her head on Ammi's shoulder, wishing she could cry this out even for once. She had so much held in within her soul that she wished she could have something that would douse the fire in her soul and it would be out as a volcano. Because the fire was only burning her soul.
Ammi slowly broke their hug and she cupped Fatima Zarah's head with a loving smile. "You know some things in life are better left as life brought them to us. You can't do anything about this, so can I. We just have to keep praying that this turns out to be the best for you, I'm sure it will be."
Before Fatima Zarah could reply Ammi, the door got opened again and Hajjo walked in, her hands instantly covering her lips. "What am I seeing, Fadimatu? You still haven't taken your bath? The grooms will be here any minute and you're still undressed!"
Fatima Zarah internally groaned and looked up at Hajjo, "I thought I told you that I can't bathe today and tomorrow? I'm not feeling my hands today, Hajjo." She knew Hajjo would give her an earful, something she wasn't ready for. But also she hated the fact that she had to do all they wanted her to, and it didn't matter wether she liked it or not.
"Ohh, is that it?" Hajjo asked sarcastically and placed her hands on her hips. "Then I'll bathe you mysef, Fadimatu. Get up quickly!"
Hajjo walked to where she was and Fatima Zarah screamed at the pitch of her voice. "For Allah's sake, what is this, Hajjo?" She whined and Ammi laughed before she stood onto her feet.
"I'll leave you with Hajjo, she knows the right way to make you do things you don't want to." And she was out of the room in the blink of an eye, Fatima Zarah wished she could follow her afterwards. But Hajjo being Hajjo.
She stood up as well and shrugged off Hajjo's hands from her shoulder. "I'll take my bathe, Hajjo. Please ask someone to bring in my breakfast, I'm so hungry that it can end my life." She mumbled some incoherent words and walked to the bathroom, silently closing the door behind her.
Hajjo looked at the closed door and smiled ruefully. She knew what was now happening in Fatima Zarah's life, she didn't deserve it. Of all the pains she had went through, she really wished an eternal happiness for the girl. But as the saying goes, we plan but Allah plans, and he's the best of planners.
She silently prayed for this marriage to be a source of happiness for Fatima Zarah before she left the room. And when Fatima Zarah came out of the bathroom, she was more than glad when she didn't see Hajjo waiting for her with all those aphrodisiac she wondered what they are for.
Ammi sent in a makeup artist, and she didn't denied having her face cooked up. She sat down and only ordered the woman to make a subtle look on her face. On days like this, she hated makeup with passion. She wished she can have her face all natural and if it's possible, the skin on her should be shed off.
After the makeup was done, she walked to her wardrobe and picked one of the clothes Ammi kept for her. It was a red lace with touches of milk, and it beautified and graced her complexion. Even though she hated to admit being beautiful on this dreading day, she knew she did. And it was kind of soothing.
Ammi was the one that walked in with her tray of food and Fatima Zarah didn't know when a smile broke her lips. But the struggle was how to eat without smudging her perfectly painted lips. It was not until the makeup artist promised to redesign it for her if it got smudged that she did agreed and ate her food.
*
Her was seated on the floor, just like every other man in the mosque was. He had been getting messages from Mama Fulani that he wished he could unsee from his mind. She threatened, warned and soothed him all at once. He loved it when she sent a message as Ummah, it was his favorite part of her. He ducked his head down and couldn't wait for all the other weddings to be solemnized so he could feel what Ummah told him he would. They had in been in Sokoto central mosque for nearly an hour now.
All the other marriages had been solemnized and he watched as his uncles moved forward, some squatting beside the Sultan of sokoto himself, whom will be serve as his wakil, and there stood Fatima Zarah's uncle too, Uncle Garba. Al-mustapha wished he could unsee everything that was happening right before his own eyes.
Questions were asked, and they were answered by Sultan and the mehr was given. He stood there silently and watched as everything was being solemnized right before his own eyes. His own life got hitched with a certain dragon of a lady. Prayers were exclaimed and congratulations were coming in order and he wished he could hide away from this moment. Then Mama Fulani's message came through and he wanted to scream.
He had to act as she said, smile widely and act all happy and giddy, full of love. Zubair walked up to him and shook his hand with a smile; or rather, a smirk on his lips. "Congratulations, brother. I wish this marriage unveils whatever it is you and Mama Fulani are hiding." He leaned towards his right ear and whispered, "Why do I feel like this marriage was forced on the lady without her approval? There's nothing time won't tell and unveil, we shall wait and see."
Al-mustapha squeezed his hand tightly and smiled, because there were alot of cameras around them with flashes all over that he had to act accordingly. "Time shall tell, and we will see who has the most dirtiest secret ever."
He was so happy when the congratulations and pictures were over and he would finally leave, not to his own sanctuary but to the palace, and he wished she would be his Ummah today. He got down from the car when they arrived in front of her chamber and there came an arousal of congratulations from all the women, and Al-mustapha dared not answer those good wishes.
Not until he got into Ummah's room did ghe heaved a sigh out of relief and his eyes fell on her. She was seated on her resting sofa with legs crossed. There were servants around her and she dismissed them with a single handwave. They bowed down to him uttering their own congratulations before they left, and he walked over her and sat down beside her legs, because he didn't know wether it was Ummah or Mama Fulani.
She was about to speak when he spoke, "Speak to me as Ummah, please."
The way his voice sounded, as if he had the weight of the most heaviest rock resting on his shoulders, he instantly changed what she wanted to utter to him at first.
Ummah heaved a sigh and undid the lock she made with her two fingers and her hands slowly got into the silky thread of his hair. She massaged his hair slowly before she began to speak. "For the past one month, I've been nothing but Mama Fulani to you, Al-mustapha. I'm sorry, but that's the best way I know that'll make you do what I want. It's not because I despise you, it's because all I want is what's the best for you and I want to hide the secret of whoever forever from the world. No one should ever know who you are, Al-mustapha."
Today, he felt himself softening, not because he changed from the man he really was, but because alot had happened in his life of recent that it brought out this side of him he didn't knew existed. He looked up at her, "Why do I always have who I am? Why can't I be my own self, Ummah?"
He finally got the chance to ask her the question that had been gnawing at him for all the years he spent his life. As he looked deeply into her eyes, he read her expression and it changed. There was grief and anger moulded in her eyes, she tried masking it away from him, but she couldn't.
He fixed his eyes on her, even though he knew it made her uncomfortable but that's the best way to extract an answer from Ummah, especially when she didn't want to give one. She looked away from him and held a stoic expression, the one Al-mustapha had never seen on her. It was nearly frightening.
"Because they made you this way, Al-mustapha, and I can't let them know they've succeeded. I want you to live a life every man lives, please, do this for me." Even though they both knew he felt nothing and her plea wouldn't make him behave the way she wanted, he nodded his head and placed his head on her knees. He wished she could let him sleep that way, he was tired beyond words could tell.
Ummah had never felt her heart swelled with his love as it did now, because Al-mustapha had never sat down beside her or even lay his head on her. Infact, he had never took her hand in his, they never had a body contact ever since he was taken away from her. And today, he got married, and he came back to her. Her fingers delved more into his intrinsic hairs and she patted his head lovingly.
"Stand up and go to your wife, Al-mustapha. All your cousins are here for you, be nice to them. And please, Be a good husband to her." He nodded his head and stood up because from the way her voice sounded, she had dismissed him. Time to meet his Drakaina.
Should I stop here?😂😂 abi I should be kind enough to add one more?