Nafisa Ballah, this extra chapter is for you. Love you a bunch❤️
The chatter of his cousins, whom he could hardly point five together with their names nearly silenced the rummaging thoughts rumbling in his brain, but nothing worked. On their way to Mabera, to his wife as Ummah said, he had nothing going on in his head but how to perfectly put on the fire he promised for Fatima Zarah, even though Ummah asked him to be a good husband. He couldn't, because he had never did what Ummah asked of him. If only she acted as Mama Fulani.
They arrived in front of the huge ironed gate and came out of the car, waiting for their arrival to be announced to the women before they could enter. He didn't know who paid this Photographer that ahd been following him everywhere he walked his feet on, it might be Ummah, or even Zubair or the royal family. Any one in the palace can torture his life this way, and he prayed they won't ask him to snap a pivture together with Fatima Zarah.
His prayer wasn't answered because the moment they were ushered in by some women and they were taken to a living room he was sure was less boistreperous among others, his cousins began straightening their babban riga and telling the photographer to get ready because the bride would soon come in and he had to snap them some pictures, together with the groom as well. He couldn't argue, because he was sure that was the norm and he atleast had to keep a perfect picture. Not for him, but for Ummah.
Some minutes later, the refreshments were brought and a few minutes later her mother together with her friends and relatives began walking into the living room and Al-mustapha, just like his other cousins did, squatted down and greeted the woman that gave birth to the dragon he got married to, today. He couldn't thank her enough, if only any of them could sense the sarcasm dripping from his lips.
"The bride will come in," an elder woman announced and Al-mustapha found himself fixing his eyes on the only entrance that could give her access to the living room. And there she came, draped in a red veil with beauty walking together with her steps. She truly looked...beautiful. He could admit that to himself, but never to someone like Fatima Zarah.
She greeted his cousins, because he had no friends to start with. And even when Small offered to be his guard today, he declined because he was sure Fatima Zarah would see him and she couldn't keep shut. her words would have proven themselves right. She looked at him with fire burning from her eyes and he could clearly see when one of her aunties nudged her shoulder before she spoke.
"Good afternoon," she said, with a voice that was nearly inaudible but he heard her nonetheless.
"Good Afternoon to you too. And congratulations..." he needn't to say 'for coming to hell' because he was sure he knew what exactly he congratulated her for. Fatima Zarah glared at him under the thickness of her eye lashes and took her eyes off him, he smiled, because starting from now, he could see her vulnerability simmering together with the fire she claimed she had.
"Time for pictures, to keep some memories." An annoying cousin of his, whom he didn't even know his name uttered and he found himself wanting to vanish when the older women walked back into the house and she was left with only her friends and family that were her agemate.
They both stood up and the photographer required of them to move closer to each other to give the impression they really were the couple for the day. Al-mustapha had no choice but to walk to where Fatima Zarah stayed rooted to her spot and he stood beside her. The kind of angry face she made nearly cracked him up and he leaned towards her ears.
"If only you see how angry you looked right now, don't worry, I won't start unleashing my fire on you until a week after. You can even smile now." He taunted and watched as her expression changed. What he didn't know was, when he leaned down to speak to her, all of them thought it was really romantic and they gushed together with the shutter of the photographer.
Telling himself for the umpteenth time today that he was only playing a game, he smiled brightly at the camera and the photographer did his job. "Take her hand atleast, she's your wife now, Al-mustapha." One of his cousins spoke and when he looked up, it was such a relief that he knew his name. He was Faruk, the younger brother of Zubair. When he scanned through the crowd, Zubair stood there intently staring at him and Fatima Zarah as if he was trying to figure out what would prove his words earlier.
He didn't have a second thought before he grabbed her hands and looked directly into her eyes, he knew she might protest, and so he leaned directly towards her left ear and whispered. "Act up, atleast for once, Miss I know my rights. You're a law student, atleast I expect you to be smart at your age."
She internally groaned and smiled when she sensed the flash of the camera on her eyalashes. To show Al-mustapha that she can more conniving, more manupulative that he could ever think, she pulled him completely into a hug and wrapped her hands tightly around his waist. She smiled and ducked her head on his shoulder, for the camera, she mused to herself.
If Al-mustapha could spark, he would've done that the very minute she hugged him to her chest. Because that was the very first time someone had ever hugged him. Ever since he opened his eyes into the royal family, he had never been hugged, not even as a joke. She slowly pulled apart from him with a huge smile on her lips, staring at his eyes. And when the photo session was over, Al-mustapha wouldn't have been more glad.
❀
She was wrapped up in the royal thobe and her head was ducked down while she fidgetted with her fingers, trying all she could not to give way for her tears to cascade. Ammi, Hajjo and some of her aunties were giving her the lectures, and at some point Fatima Zarah wanted nothing but to laugh. Because what amazed her was, of all the years she had spent in her life, none of them had cared to give her a marriage lecture, exclusive of Hajjo, but a few minutes for her to be conveyed to her husband's house? Or in other words, to her hell, where she could be the dragon she had always wanted to be.
She kept nodding her head at everything said at her and she could hear as Ammi's voice kept breaking with each voice she had uttered. They excused them at last, and she unveiled her face and stared ta Ammi with lips curved into a pout.
"Why are you crying, Dr. Summayah?" She wanted Ammi to know she brought this upon them, like she knew there would have been a way out of this not just this, for Allah's sake. Nothing had only one way out, even in do or die situations. It's either you do whatever it is or die, two options.
Ammi sat down beside her before she broke into the tears she had been holding back in the presence of her family, and now that she was left alone with the soul she loved more than any other soul in the whole universe, she let herself free and cried her pain out. She took Fatima Zarah into an embrace and they both cried their pains out. Fatima Zarah found it so hard to let her tears roll down on her cheeks in the presence of anyone, inclusive of Ammi, but she couldn't hold them back today.
Ammi broke their hug and stared into her face, "Will you please do me a favour?"
She nodded her head without even hearing what that favour was, because when it came to Ammi, it was a matter of do or die for her. "Please, start bearing his name alongside yours, I hate seeing only your name as your name."
That cracked Fatima Zarah up, and she chuckled a bit before she replied Ammi. "Did you hear yourself, Ammi? My name as my name, because it's my freaking name." She quickly blocked her lips away from Ammi lest she suffered a knock on them. With a sheepish smile, she continued, "My bad. But Ammi it's my name, after you and Hajjo, it's the third thing I love in my life. I can't use his name, besides, all the important places in my life that required my name had already being filled up with Fatima Zarah Tambuwal."
As soon as she closed her lips, she recalled, "Well, expect in the police station he had me locked up, it was written as Fatima Zarah Al-mustapha, I don't know wether they used Tambuwal or Maccido. So," she shrugged off her shoulder and smiled brightly at Ammi. Seeing the plea in Ammi's eyes, she nodded her head. "But I can do anything for Ammi, so it's a yes."
Mama Fulani had already sent women for her conveyance and they had been welcomed warmly by Ammi's family. It was finally time to leave and Fatima Zarah felt as her intestines churned. She had once asked Ammi wether she was going to live with him in the palace or outside, and Ammi said she didn't know yet, whatever Mama Fulani decided. And Fatima Zarah wished whoever this Mama Fulani was, would be lenient when it came to this.
On their way to the palace, she held onto the gold bangles Ammi had gifted her with. She didn't have to wear them because she already had some on her wrists. But the ones Ammi gifted her with had always being her favorite Ammi's bangles. She had never thought Ammi could give her those bangles, because she claimed they had a memory attached with them. A memory she wanted to cherish forever.
They arrived in the palace and with the thobe trying so hard to suffocate her frail lungs. She got down from the car and handed Ammi's younger sister the bangles and she had them kept in her bag. They walked into Mama Fulani's chamber hand in hand and there were arousal of yodelling, the algaita and whatnot. She had never felt this nauseous because of too much noise but today.
They sat down on the carpeted floor with huge pillows to rest their arms on, as it was already known in the palaces. They all chorused their greetings to Mama Fulani and Fatima Zarah lifted up her thobe a little to get a peak of Mama Fulani's face, and when she did, she could swear her heart lost a bit. It was exactly like that of Al-mustapha. Only that this face had a touch of feminity and it was clearly older than him. And on his face, he had another person's facials that she couldn't point out.
Greetings were exchanged and tradition was done as it had already been done in the royal house, and she watched painfully as her Aunties and other relatives walked out to go back home. Aunty Wasila told her she would bring the bangles for her tomorrow, she had no one to give them to, today. When there was no face she knew left, she heard the authoritative voice of Mama Fulani as she dismissed any woman sitting in the living room and she was left alone with Fatima Zarah.
They stood far away, but no word could be shared among them that will go unheard. "Fatima Zarah Tambuwal, I didn't get you married to my son because I like you, it was a mess your lips and hands created and you alone could clean it up. So, brace yourself up, this is just the starting point."