"I just accept that you should go." Despite how much I loved Abubakar, I couldn't help but feel a surge of anger. What kind of destiny was this? What kind of control was Abubakar trying to exert over me? Was I really going to his house just to be humiliated? God knows I will not tolerate humiliation. I kept complaining and grumbling to myself. Eventually, I decided to call him. The phone rang twice and cut off; he refused to answer. Filled with even more frustration, I sat down and sent him a text message:
"Know that I do not love you, and I will not enter a marriage of humiliation. Just because you love me, does that give you the right to control me? Because you caused me to be fired from my job, do you think you own everything? I will look for someone else. I never asked for your help, yet you dare bring me food and even have the audacity to change my door lock."
As soon as I finished, I sent the text, my heart boiling with anger and resentment. Abubakar heard the message come in, but he didn't check it because he was sitting in front of his grandmother, Dada, wanting to discuss an important matter with her. She said, "I'm listening." He said, "Well, Dada, I want to talk about the wedding gifts (lefe) to be delivered. I want to buy more when I go to Dubai." Dada just stared at him with her mouth open, shocked by his behavior. Abubakar had clearly come with a new attitude. She hissed and said, "You, boy, are you now old enough and wealthy enough to come and say you will arrange your own wedding gifts? Have you forgotten that Lamido does everything for everyone in this family? You know very well that whenever anyone gets married in this family, Lamido handles everything. And now you come to me saying you want to buy your own gifts? Fine, go ahead and do it, but without my blessing. Have you lost your mind? What kind of girl are you chasing that makes you lose your footing like this? Do not bring trouble upon me. Get up and leave my sight." He stood up, looking demoralized, and said, "Please forgive me. Whatever you decide is right." "Just fold your arms and watch what Lamido will do. Now go," she replied. As he walked out, he met Hashim and told him what happened with Dada. Hashim said, "You are also at fault. Do you want to cause the family to hate Hafsa? Let them handle it their way; they know what they are doing." Abubakar replied, "Alright, fine!!" Indeed, in Lamido's family, your first marriage is entirely arranged for you. If you show too much enthusiasm, it is seen as disrespect—especially regarding Hamma, who became notorious since he chose to marry an outsider. After finishing his conversation with Hashim, Abubakar checked his phone and saw the text. He read it, hissed, and sat on the edge of the bed. He picked up his phone, feeling the need to reply immediately, and wrote:
"I don't care if you love me or not. I am only trying to save your reputation. If not for me, who else would marry a rebellious girl? As for your job, you can go back to it. You didn't listen to your own parents, so why would you listen to me? Do whatever you want since you claim to have your freedom. That is the lifestyle of a loose woman (bariki)."
When the message dropped into my phone, I burst into tears. Is this what the husband I am about to marry is saying to me? I called Rahma, crying uncontrollably, and told her everything. She said, "Be patient, I will call him." I said, "Do not speak to him. As soon as the marriage is solemnized, I will just go my own way." Rahma said, "Be patient, I am on my way." She arrived that evening with Sagir, just as I had finished my Isha prayer. Shadad was lying down next to me, and I couldn't even eat. They greeted me, and I responded. Rahma sat down and asked, "What happened?" I said, "Rahma, look at this text." I handed her the phone. She read it and passed it to Sagir. Sagir said, "Please forgive him. By Allah, I know Abubakar loves you. The fact that you called yourself a prostitute (karuwa) is the reason for his anger." Rahma added, "And he has refused to listen to anyone to understand how things actually happened." I said, "I will run away as long as he is named my husband today, even though I know I love him." Sagir countered, "If you run away, what will your parents think? What kind of life will you have in the future? And will you ever find someone you love as much as him? You need to ask yourself these questions and answer them honestly." I burst into tears, knowing I had no choice but to be patient because Sagir spoke the truth. O Allah, guide me. Rahma then said, "He came to ask about the wedding events so we could print the invitation cards. I knew you wouldn't want anything beyond a Walima (religious feast), so I told him that." I said, "Who do I even know to print cards for? I won't even do the Walima." Rahma turned to Sagir and said, "Do you hear her? This is why I just take matters into my own hands; I knew she wouldn't cooperate." Sagir said, "Now, Hafsa, my advice is to just sit back and watch us handle everything." I replied, "No, what you are planning goes against Islamic tradition (shari'ah), and I won't support it." They laughed and continued to comfort me while defending Abubakar until I felt a bit relieved. They left after Rahma deleted the text message. With ten days left until the wedding, Abubakar's family traveled to Kaduna with the wedding gifts (lefe)—a luxurious 5-piece suitcase set filled with very expensive items. His aunts were surprised to find that the house of the girl Abubakar was marrying belonged to very poor, ordinary people. However, they were received with great hospitality, served good food and drinks provided by Murja, Yaya Umar's wife. Baba’s room was swept, and carpets were laid out. After they ate, drank, and prayed, the gifts were opened. The women of the household kept praising the items because they were so grand. One of the women who brought the gifts asked, "Where is the bride?" Baaba replied, "She is in Kano, studying there." Umar gave them 10,000 Naira as a token of appreciation (tukuici), thanking them for coming. When the groom's family returned, they reported that they were welcomed warmly and that the bride’s parents were very hospitable, though very poor. Dada remarked, "Well, he chose her, so he must bear the consequences." Meanwhile, Rahma called Sa'adatu, a friend from our school, to discuss the wedding preparations. She promised to bring invitation cards to the school the next day so Sa'adatu could distribute them to friends. Sa'adatu said, "May Allah spare our lives until then." Rahma looked at me and said, "You see the downside of not socializing? Wallahi, you need to change your attitude because the family you are marrying into is very large." Sanadin Boko 3-05 Posted by ANaM Dorayi on 05:56 PM, 28-Sep-15 Abubakar came to Rahma to bring the wedding cards and everything we would need, along with photos. He mentioned that his family insisted on having photos because they wanted to make customized calendars and souvenirs. Rahma called me and told me to get ready to accompany her to the house of the Commissioner of Education's wife. She told me to dress in my finest clothes because "clothing defines a person." Suspecting nothing, I dressed up elegantly and wore an after-dress over it. She drove the car herself, and I teased her, asking if she was now an expert driver since she had removed the 'L' (learner) sign. She laughed and said, "I'm getting good at it, you know me and my meddling." We stopped at a nice photo studio. She told me, "We are here to pick up some photos, come inside." We went in, and Rahma spoke with the photographer. I didn't hear what they were saying, so I just stood there. When she returned, I asked, "Where are the photos?" She lied and said, "They got ruined, so we have to take new ones." As I sat aside, they took about five different shots of her, and she approved them. The photographer asked about me, but Rahma quickly said, "No, Hafsa doesn't take photos." He said, "Alright." I asked to see her photos, but she refused. We waited for them to be edited, and I jokingly told the photographer to make sure they looked good. We collected them and left. On the way back, I asked, "Where is the Commissioner's house?" She confessed, "It was all a ruse for the photos. I knew if I told you the truth, you wouldn't come." I hissed and told her to take me home. Late in the afternoon, I was reading an interesting book by an author named Ikilima. Shadad was over at Mama's house, but I had him brought back so I could quietly find something inspiring in Ikilima's character. Suddenly, I heard a sweet, familiar voice greeting from the entrance. He entered holding Shadad’s hand. I looked away and pretended to focus on my book, though I couldn't comprehend a single word. Shadad ran to me, saying, "Aunty, look, it's Uncle!" I pushed him away coldly and said, "Who is that? For God's sake, move away." He frowned and said, "Aunty, look at him right there." To prevent Shadad from noticing any tension, I finally said, "Welcome." He didn't reply to my greeting. Instead, he scowled, shrugged, and said, "I only came to see you. Since you are fine, I will leave." Without moving from my spot, I coldly said, "Send my regards to your family." He pulled out some money and gave it to Shadad, saying, "Go sit down, I'll be back." Shadad asked, "When you come back, will you take me with you?" He replied, "Only when you are on school holidays." He turned and walked away. I watched him leave; even his gait was that of a fine, healthy man. Everything about him admired me. At the porch, he turned around, and our eyes locked deeply. He quickly averted his gaze and walked out the door. I closed my eyes, deeply inhaling his lingering scent. Suddenly, I jumped up and went to the door to look out. I watched him walk down the street until he disappeared, realizing he hadn't brought a car. I found Shadad playing with the money he gave him—ten 200 Naira notes (2,000 Naira total). I collected them, went back to the room, and sat on the bed thinking. My primary worry was how our future living arrangement would be. As the wedding festivities drew closer, my studies intensified because exams were right around the corner. Rahma was organizing everything for the Walima. The day before the wedding ceremony (daurin aure), I returned from school completely exhausted only to find my house packed with people. Rahma, the neighbors, and even her husband's relatives were busy preparing food—some washing chicken, others preparing vegetables. I stood there frozen. When the neighbors started chanting, "Look at our bride!", I managed a small smile, greeted them, and escaped into my room. I thought to myself, Rahma has a lot of nerve. Meanwhile, Rahma was busy setting up outdoor cooking hearths. She came into the room and found me. "Please, don't show any anger or sign that there is a problem," she pleaded. I asked, "Forget all that, where did you get the money for all this?" She replied, "From the groom's pockets." I said, "Well, happy celebrations then. May Allah grant you success." I added, "Inna called me earlier and said she and her relatives have been in Kaduna since yesterday. She said I should come over." Rahma said, "Mama also suggested we should head to Kaduna, but we'll have to postpone the Walima until Sunday. What do you think?" I replied, "I'll leave early tomorrow morning." Before nightfall, they finished frying the chicken and making the sauce, and Rahma distributed food to everyone who helped. Early the next morning, Shadad and I finished getting ready. Rahma arrived with their driver, and Mama was ready too. Rahma asked, "Should we pack the meat and drinks to take along?" I told her to do as she pleased. Since there was plenty of chicken, she packed a large amount. By 10:00 AM, we arrived in Kaduna. Oh, dear Baaba! They had even bought matching family uniforms (anko). The house was crowded beyond my expectation; Baaba had invited many guests. Inna and her relatives stayed in Baba's room. I felt shy seeing her relatives, but since they didn't show any judgment, I relaxed. They greeted Mama, and Baaba came in to greet us, saying, "I have arranged for the wedding guests' food to be cooked by a professional caterer. Should we buy those plastic disposable takeaway containers and spoons to pack the food?" I indifferent replied, "I don't know." Rahma stood up and said, "Baaba, why are you asking her? She's acting angry as if she's being forced into this marriage. Let me go check on the food." They left. Inna remarked to Mama, "This kind woman (Rahma) is doing so much. May Allah reward her with goodness." Mama and the others replied, "Amen." Rahma returned, saying, "The food is excellent, with plenty of vegetables. Now let's add the chicken; I've already paid for the takeaway packs." They packed the food, chicken, and drinks. Our Inna then asked me, "Have you gone to greet your father?" I said, "No." She said, "He is in Malam Garba’s room, go see him." I went out, and Shadad followed me holding my hand. I overheard some people whispering, "Is that her son?" I didn't care to look back at who they were; I just kept walking. We greeted Baba. He picked up Shadad and asked, "Is this Muhammadu?" I replied, "Yes, it's him." He said, "May Allah bless him. The wedding guests have arrived and are staying at his guardian's friend's house, right?" I answered, "Yes," even though I wasn't entirely sure. He then gave me a lengthy piece of advice: "Hafsatu, you are no longer a little girl. Allah has brought us to your wedding day. Please, be patient and live peacefully with your husband, showing him respect and obedience. If you do this for me, you have fulfilled your duty to me." He blessed me and continued, "Alhamdulillah, your brother Umar bought you a bed and chairs according to his financial strength. Your Baaba paid for all the food that was cooked. Your dowry (sadaki) was used to buy your mattress and pillows. Your Inna came with cash and said she wants to consult you on how to spend it. On my part, relatives from Maiduguri gave me a contribution of 10,000 Naira, which I handed over to Umar." I said, "Oh Allah! The Provider of dignity, may Allah reward them all." He said, "Amen, may Allah grant you a peaceful home." I returned to the main house, leaving Shadad with Baba. Inna asked me, "Did he explain everything to you?" I said, "Yes." She explained, "Your uncles and other relatives put together 50,000 Naira. I pooled money from my savings contribution (adashi) to get 60,000 Naira; I contributed 50,000 Naira from it and gave 10,000 Naira to Ummi and the others for the family uniform since your brother Umar is already overwhelmed with expenses. Additionally, Rabi'u's father (Inna's husband) gave 50,000 Naira. That brings the total to 150,000 Naira. We need to decide how to use it." I said, "Inna, whatever you decide is fine with me." My voice trembled, and I began to tear up. "I didn't expect you all to care for me and give me this honor, especially after I brought shame upon you in the past." Inna's sister interrupted, "Everything is in the past now, Hafsat." Inna then said, "You and Rahma should go to the market right now to buy kitchen utensils because we heard that as soon as the wedding ceremony is over, you will be leaving with your belongings." I noted, "If I had known, we wouldn't have bought things here because traveling all the way to Yola with heavy baggage is difficult. We could have bought them there." Inna explained that the items needed to be bought beforehand, but a moving truck had been arranged because Umar had requested the groom to provide one. I asked, "So, what should we buy now?" She said, "You know what you need better." I sighed, "Oh dear, I don't even know what I need because I am a student and didn't expect this marriage to happen so soon." She handed me the money, and I told Rahma to collect it. As we stepped out to leave, we saw Sakina, my stepsister (Baaba’s daughter), and I told her to join us. We drove in Rahma's car to Kasuwar Bacci. I bought electronics like a TV and kitchen appliances like a blender. We spent 90,000 Naira. With the remaining money, I bought wedding provisions (gara), adding to the snacks (cincin, dubulan, and alkaki) that Inna had already prepared. We bought two bags of rice, three cartons of spaghetti, four bags of semovita, and large gallons of palm oil and groundnut oil. After spending the money, we headed back home. We found them already loading the moving truck. Rahma told Yaya Umar to add the newly purchased items. He was relieved to see the wedding provisions I bought, admitting, "I was worried about where I would find the money to buy these things." I went inside as the house began to fill up with people. Around 2:00 PM, our marriage to Abubakar was officially solemnized. At that exact moment, a traditional praise singer entered the house ululating loudly. My body went completely numb. Today, I officially became a married woman. However, I missed out on all our traditional bridal customs—no henna patterns (lalle), no bridal shower (kamu), and no hair treatment. I took a shower and put on a Jallabiyya robe from the wedding suitcases along with its veil. Rahma came in and helped me apply makeup and perfume. She assisted me in choosing matching jewelry—a necklace, earrings, bracelets, and rings. I looked exceptionally beautiful, and the Jallabiyya fit perfectly. She said, "Come out and greet Hashim and Sagir. They are leaving for Yola, while we will leave tomorrow at dawn. That means we have time this afternoon to go get your hair done and get henna body paint." I replied, "Listen, if Abubakar is out there, I am not going out. I don't want him to humiliate me in front of people." She said, "They are at a restaurant down the street where Umar took them to eat." We walked to the restaurant to meet Hashim and Sagir. Abubakar wasn't there. Sagir immediately began teasing me, "Look at the groom's pride! The star of the celebration!" Hashim said, "Call Umar to send the photographer here! The groom must see photos of her in this outfit. You look just like a beautiful Sudanese Arab woman, Masha Allah!" I replied, "You guys are just teasing me, but thank you." We exchanged greetings, and Hashim mentioned, "Our elders have already left to catch their flight. We will be driving down tomorrow at dawn." I noted, "But we planned a Walima in Kano." Rahma replied, "You will just have to do it whenever you return." I looked at Rahma and said, "Are we leaving Yola tomorrow? I really need to study because our exams start in ten days." Hashim said, "Forget about going back to Kano tomorrow; the main wedding celebrations start in Yola tomorrow." Sagir added, "We are also staying until the festivities are over before I return to work." I sighed, "Um!" My only worry was that I hadn't tailored any new clothes for the event. Rahma realized this too but said nothing. Just then, Hashim's phone rang. He answered and said, "Great, Munir! Have you entered the street? If you are on the third street, we are here at a restaurant right next to the mosque." A chill ran down my spine, and my legs grew so weak that I could barely stand. I leaned against the wall. This sudden dread was triggered solely by the name "Munir," even though I had no confirmation it was the specific Munir I knew. Before I could process it, I heard his voice at the entrance offering Islamic greetings. I gasped for air, barely able to breathe. As he walked in, his eyes scanned the room, and he froze completely as our eyes met. Hashim, entirely oblivious to the tension, joked, "You're late, the marriage has already been solemnized." Munir could not tear his eyes away from me. I didn't care what his gaze meant; on my part, I looked at him with pure hatred and deep animosity. My heart screamed inside me, Stand up and choke him! Slap him across the face! I abruptly stood up and stormed out in a rage. Hashim called out, "Come back, Hafsat! What's wrong?" Rahma got up and shouted, "Hafsat! Hafsat!" I ignored them completely, unable to even see clearly where I was going. I would rather face the Angel of Death than look at Munir. I sat down inside the house, wiping away my sweat, completely deaf to what Innu and the others were saying. Apparently, I had blindly barged past people to get inside. Rahma came and sat beside me, asking, "What is it?" Tears began to flow down my cheeks. She whispered in my ear, "Is he Shadad's father? I heard Hashim call him Munir." I didn't answer. I just wept bitterly until the women in the room stopped asking questions and left me alone. Rahma pushed further, "Tell me, is he the one?" I said, "If he is, what can you possibly do to him?" She stood up to leave, but I pulled her back, saying, "Sit back down." I took a deep breath and said, "Rahma, let it go. There is only one thing I want to know: what is his relationship to Abubakar? If they are related, then even if the heavens and earth collide, I will never remain in their family." Rahma cautioned, "Stop talking like that, it's bad luck. Calm down, I will call Hashim later." I said, "Leave them alone, I will investigate it slowly on my own." Meanwhile, Sagir and Hashim were baffled by my sudden outburst, but Hashim began to suspect something. Indeed, Shadad bore a striking resemblance to Munir. Hashim looked at Munir, who was too restless to sit down, and said, "Sit down, sir, here is some food." Munir sat down, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped his sweat. Sagir and Hashim shook hands with him. Changing the subject, Munir pointed at Sagir and asked, "Is this the groom?" Hashim replied, "No, the groom is in Yola. You know I told you he is marrying two wives." Just then, Yaya Umar returned holding Shadad’s hand from his house. Shadad said, "Uncle, let me go to my Aunty. Is she in that room?" Umar confirmed she was. He had taken Shadad out earlier, which was why they just returned. The boy ran into the restaurant toward Sagir, asking, "Uncle, where is my Aunty?" Sagir replied, "She's at the house." Munir stared intently at the boy, his heart pounding wildly as he watched him run off. He felt an overwhelming urge to grab the boy just to get a closer look at him—or perhaps he was just profoundly shaken by seeing Hafsa again. He stood up in visible distress and said, "Well, Hashim, may Allah bless the union. I must leave now." Hashim asked, "So soon?" Munir replied, "Yes, I have an urgent matter to attend to." As they walked him out, Munir kept looking back nervously. He got into his car and drove off, talking to himself in confusion. He questioned himself, Is that boy, who looks exactly like me, truly Hafsa's son? Did she actually give birth to him? He spoke aloud, I swear I must claim my son. I can already feel my blood calling out to his, but still... He struck the steering wheel in frustration. Damn it, I know this will cause a massive family feud. Who can I even approach with this matter since none of my parents know about it? When he got home, he couldn't sit still, plagued by anxiety, and he couldn't dare tell his wife. Finally, he decided he would have to confide in their father (Dadynsu). Back at the house, if not for Rahma’s insistence, I wouldn't have bothered with any bridal decorations. She had Sakina and Ummi find a local henna artist who painted floral patterns on my hands. She also bought me shampoo, because my wedding suitcases (lefe) had already been moved ahead, alongside separate traditional cloths brought by his family. Therefore, my personal things hadn't been unpacked. She did all this for me because I flatly refused to go to a beauty salon. I had temporarily forgotten my anger until Rahma brought out a collection of traditional bridal herbs and aphrodisiacs, insisting I drink them. I told her she had better pack up her junk, otherwise she would lose her money because I would throw them away. She retorted, "They are right here in my bag. If you want to throw them away, go ahead. But if you are ready to use them, call me so I can explain how." I told her she was wasting her time. We went to spend the night at Yaya Umar's house. I couldn't sleep at all. To be honest, seeing Munir again revived a deep hatred for men within me. God knows, if he is Abubakar's relative, I will not stay in this family. The next morning, they woke me up: "Hey bride, wake up! We have a long journey ahead of us." Since I was on my period and exempted from prayers, I just took a bath, groomed myself thoroughly, and we set out. Yaya Umar, Ummi, Umar’s wife, and all of Inna’s relatives traveled with us. Sakina, Rahma, Shadad, and I rode in Hashim and Sagir’s car. Truly, Yola is very far away. We chatted continuously as the journey began."
Narrative Summary
Marital & Family Tensions: The story opens with Hafsa feeling trapped, resentful, and controlled by her fiancé, Abubakar. Following a heated text exchange where Hafsa expresses her anger over losing her job and his controlling behavior, Abubakar faces his own family pressures. His grandmother, Dada, reprimands him for breaking tradition by trying to buy his own wedding gifts (lefe) rather than allowing the family patriarch, Lamido, to handle it.
Wedding Preparations: Despite the underlying emotional friction, the wedding arrangements proceed rapidly. Abubakar's family delivers luxurious gifts to Hafsa's impoverished family home in Kaduna, where they are treated with immense hospitality. Hafsa’s family pools their meager resources to provide her with cash, kitchen appliances, and wedding provisions (gara).
The Unveiling of a Dark Past: The marriage is officially solemnized. While celebrating nearby, Hafsa is traumatized by the sudden arrival of a man named Munir. It is revealed through her intense emotional reaction and Rahma's questioning that Munir is the biological father of Hafsa's son, Shadad—a child tied to a past scandal that previously brought shame to her family.
The Looming Conflict: Munir is shocked to see Hafsa and notices that Shadad is a spitting image of himself. Overwhelmed by a biological pull and guilt, Munir resolves to secretly claim his son, anticipating a massive family crisis since his current wife and parents know nothing of this past. Concurrently, Hafsa vows that if she discovers Abubakar and Munir are related, she will divorce Abubakar immediately, setting up a major upcoming conflict as the wedding party journeys to Yola.
"I just accept that you should go."
Despite how much I loved Abubakar, I couldn't help but feel a surge of anger. What kind of destiny was this? What kind of control was Abubakar trying to exert over me? Was I really going to his house just to be humiliated? God knows I will not tolerate humiliation. I kept complaining and grumbling to myself. Eventually, I decided to call him. The phone rang twice and cut off; he refused to answer. Filled with even more frustration, I sat down and sent him a text message:
As soon as I finished, I sent the text, my heart boiling with anger and resentment.
Abubakar heard the message come in, but he didn't check it because he was sitting in front of his grandmother, Dada, wanting to discuss an important matter with her. She said, "I'm listening."
He said, "Well, Dada, I want to talk about the wedding gifts (lefe) to be delivered. I want to buy more when I go to Dubai."
Dada just stared at him with her mouth open, shocked by his behavior. Abubakar had clearly come with a new attitude. She hissed and said, "You, boy, are you now old enough and wealthy enough to come and say you will arrange your own wedding gifts? Have you forgotten that Lamido does everything for everyone in this family? You know very well that whenever anyone gets married in this family, Lamido handles everything. And now you come to me saying you want to buy your own gifts? Fine, go ahead and do it, but without my blessing. Have you lost your mind? What kind of girl are you chasing that makes you lose your footing like this? Do not bring trouble upon me. Get up and leave my sight."
He stood up, looking demoralized, and said, "Please forgive me. Whatever you decide is right."
"Just fold your arms and watch what Lamido will do. Now go," she replied.
As he walked out, he met Hashim and told him what happened with Dada. Hashim said, "You are also at fault. Do you want to cause the family to hate Hafsa? Let them handle it their way; they know what they are doing."
Abubakar replied, "Alright, fine!!"
Indeed, in Lamido's family, your first marriage is entirely arranged for you. If you show too much enthusiasm, it is seen as disrespect—especially regarding Hamma, who became notorious since he chose to marry an outsider.
After finishing his conversation with Hashim, Abubakar checked his phone and saw the text. He read it, hissed, and sat on the edge of the bed. He picked up his phone, feeling the need to reply immediately, and wrote:
When the message dropped into my phone, I burst into tears. Is this what the husband I am about to marry is saying to me? I called Rahma, crying uncontrollably, and told her everything. She said, "Be patient, I will call him."
I said, "Do not speak to him. As soon as the marriage is solemnized, I will just go my own way."
Rahma said, "Be patient, I am on my way."
She arrived that evening with Sagir, just as I had finished my Isha prayer. Shadad was lying down next to me, and I couldn't even eat. They greeted me, and I responded. Rahma sat down and asked, "What happened?"
I said, "Rahma, look at this text." I handed her the phone. She read it and passed it to Sagir.
Sagir said, "Please forgive him. By Allah, I know Abubakar loves you. The fact that you called yourself a prostitute (karuwa) is the reason for his anger."
Rahma added, "And he has refused to listen to anyone to understand how things actually happened."
I said, "I will run away as long as he is named my husband today, even though I know I love him."
Sagir countered, "If you run away, what will your parents think? What kind of life will you have in the future? And will you ever find someone you love as much as him? You need to ask yourself these questions and answer them honestly."
I burst into tears, knowing I had no choice but to be patient because Sagir spoke the truth. O Allah, guide me.
Rahma then said, "He came to ask about the wedding events so we could print the invitation cards. I knew you wouldn't want anything beyond a Walima (religious feast), so I told him that."
I said, "Who do I even know to print cards for? I won't even do the Walima."
Rahma turned to Sagir and said, "Do you hear her? This is why I just take matters into my own hands; I knew she wouldn't cooperate."
Sagir said, "Now, Hafsa, my advice is to just sit back and watch us handle everything."
I replied, "No, what you are planning goes against Islamic tradition (shari'ah), and I won't support it." They laughed and continued to comfort me while defending Abubakar until I felt a bit relieved. They left after Rahma deleted the text message.
With ten days left until the wedding, Abubakar's family traveled to Kaduna with the wedding gifts (lefe)—a luxurious 5-piece suitcase set filled with very expensive items. His aunts were surprised to find that the house of the girl Abubakar was marrying belonged to very poor, ordinary people. However, they were received with great hospitality, served good food and drinks provided by Murja, Yaya Umar's wife. Baba’s room was swept, and carpets were laid out. After they ate, drank, and prayed, the gifts were opened. The women of the household kept praising the items because they were so grand.
One of the women who brought the gifts asked, "Where is the bride?"
Baaba replied, "She is in Kano, studying there."
Umar gave them 10,000 Naira as a token of appreciation (tukuici), thanking them for coming. When the groom's family returned, they reported that they were welcomed warmly and that the bride’s parents were very hospitable, though very poor. Dada remarked, "Well, he chose her, so he must bear the consequences."
Meanwhile, Rahma called Sa'adatu, a friend from our school, to discuss the wedding preparations. She promised to bring invitation cards to the school the next day so Sa'adatu could distribute them to friends. Sa'adatu said, "May Allah spare our lives until then."
Rahma looked at me and said, "You see the downside of not socializing? Wallahi, you need to change your attitude because the family you are marrying into is very large."
Sanadin Boko 3-05
Posted by ANaM Dorayi on 05:56 PM, 28-Sep-15
Abubakar came to Rahma to bring the wedding cards and everything we would need, along with photos. He mentioned that his family insisted on having photos because they wanted to make customized calendars and souvenirs. Rahma called me and told me to get ready to accompany her to the house of the Commissioner of Education's wife. She told me to dress in my finest clothes because "clothing defines a person." Suspecting nothing, I dressed up elegantly and wore an after-dress over it.
She drove the car herself, and I teased her, asking if she was now an expert driver since she had removed the 'L' (learner) sign. She laughed and said, "I'm getting good at it, you know me and my meddling."
We stopped at a nice photo studio. She told me, "We are here to pick up some photos, come inside." We went in, and Rahma spoke with the photographer. I didn't hear what they were saying, so I just stood there. When she returned, I asked, "Where are the photos?"
She lied and said, "They got ruined, so we have to take new ones." As I sat aside, they took about five different shots of her, and she approved them. The photographer asked about me, but Rahma quickly said, "No, Hafsa doesn't take photos." He said, "Alright." I asked to see her photos, but she refused. We waited for them to be edited, and I jokingly told the photographer to make sure they looked good. We collected them and left. On the way back, I asked, "Where is the Commissioner's house?"
She confessed, "It was all a ruse for the photos. I knew if I told you the truth, you wouldn't come." I hissed and told her to take me home.
Late in the afternoon, I was reading an interesting book by an author named Ikilima. Shadad was over at Mama's house, but I had him brought back so I could quietly find something inspiring in Ikilima's character. Suddenly, I heard a sweet, familiar voice greeting from the entrance. He entered holding Shadad’s hand. I looked away and pretended to focus on my book, though I couldn't comprehend a single word.
Shadad ran to me, saying, "Aunty, look, it's Uncle!"
I pushed him away coldly and said, "Who is that? For God's sake, move away." He frowned and said, "Aunty, look at him right there."
To prevent Shadad from noticing any tension, I finally said, "Welcome."
He didn't reply to my greeting. Instead, he scowled, shrugged, and said, "I only came to see you. Since you are fine, I will leave."
Without moving from my spot, I coldly said, "Send my regards to your family."
He pulled out some money and gave it to Shadad, saying, "Go sit down, I'll be back."
Shadad asked, "When you come back, will you take me with you?"
He replied, "Only when you are on school holidays."
He turned and walked away. I watched him leave; even his gait was that of a fine, healthy man. Everything about him admired me. At the porch, he turned around, and our eyes locked deeply. He quickly averted his gaze and walked out the door. I closed my eyes, deeply inhaling his lingering scent. Suddenly, I jumped up and went to the door to look out. I watched him walk down the street until he disappeared, realizing he hadn't brought a car.
I found Shadad playing with the money he gave him—ten 200 Naira notes (2,000 Naira total). I collected them, went back to the room, and sat on the bed thinking. My primary worry was how our future living arrangement would be.
As the wedding festivities drew closer, my studies intensified because exams were right around the corner. Rahma was organizing everything for the Walima. The day before the wedding ceremony (daurin aure), I returned from school completely exhausted only to find my house packed with people. Rahma, the neighbors, and even her husband's relatives were busy preparing food—some washing chicken, others preparing vegetables. I stood there frozen.
When the neighbors started chanting, "Look at our bride!", I managed a small smile, greeted them, and escaped into my room. I thought to myself, Rahma has a lot of nerve. Meanwhile, Rahma was busy setting up outdoor cooking hearths. She came into the room and found me. "Please, don't show any anger or sign that there is a problem," she pleaded.
I asked, "Forget all that, where did you get the money for all this?"
She replied, "From the groom's pockets."
I said, "Well, happy celebrations then. May Allah grant you success." I added, "Inna called me earlier and said she and her relatives have been in Kaduna since yesterday. She said I should come over."
Rahma said, "Mama also suggested we should head to Kaduna, but we'll have to postpone the Walima until Sunday. What do you think?"
I replied, "I'll leave early tomorrow morning." Before nightfall, they finished frying the chicken and making the sauce, and Rahma distributed food to everyone who helped.
Early the next morning, Shadad and I finished getting ready. Rahma arrived with their driver, and Mama was ready too. Rahma asked, "Should we pack the meat and drinks to take along?" I told her to do as she pleased. Since there was plenty of chicken, she packed a large amount. By 10:00 AM, we arrived in Kaduna.
Oh, dear Baaba! They had even bought matching family uniforms (anko). The house was crowded beyond my expectation; Baaba had invited many guests. Inna and her relatives stayed in Baba's room. I felt shy seeing her relatives, but since they didn't show any judgment, I relaxed. They greeted Mama, and Baaba came in to greet us, saying, "I have arranged for the wedding guests' food to be cooked by a professional caterer. Should we buy those plastic disposable takeaway containers and spoons to pack the food?"
I indifferent replied, "I don't know."
Rahma stood up and said, "Baaba, why are you asking her? She's acting angry as if she's being forced into this marriage. Let me go check on the food." They left. Inna remarked to Mama, "This kind woman (Rahma) is doing so much. May Allah reward her with goodness." Mama and the others replied, "Amen."
Rahma returned, saying, "The food is excellent, with plenty of vegetables. Now let's add the chicken; I've already paid for the takeaway packs." They packed the food, chicken, and drinks. Our Inna then asked me, "Have you gone to greet your father?" I said, "No." She said, "He is in Malam Garba’s room, go see him."
I went out, and Shadad followed me holding my hand. I overheard some people whispering, "Is that her son?" I didn't care to look back at who they were; I just kept walking.
We greeted Baba. He picked up Shadad and asked, "Is this Muhammadu?" I replied, "Yes, it's him." He said, "May Allah bless him. The wedding guests have arrived and are staying at his guardian's friend's house, right?" I answered, "Yes," even though I wasn't entirely sure.
He then gave me a lengthy piece of advice: "Hafsatu, you are no longer a little girl. Allah has brought us to your wedding day. Please, be patient and live peacefully with your husband, showing him respect and obedience. If you do this for me, you have fulfilled your duty to me." He blessed me and continued, "Alhamdulillah, your brother Umar bought you a bed and chairs according to his financial strength. Your Baaba paid for all the food that was cooked. Your dowry (sadaki) was used to buy your mattress and pillows. Your Inna came with cash and said she wants to consult you on how to spend it. On my part, relatives from Maiduguri gave me a contribution of 10,000 Naira, which I handed over to Umar."
I said, "Oh Allah! The Provider of dignity, may Allah reward them all." He said, "Amen, may Allah grant you a peaceful home."
I returned to the main house, leaving Shadad with Baba. Inna asked me, "Did he explain everything to you?" I said, "Yes." She explained, "Your uncles and other relatives put together 50,000 Naira. I pooled money from my savings contribution (adashi) to get 60,000 Naira; I contributed 50,000 Naira from it and gave 10,000 Naira to Ummi and the others for the family uniform since your brother Umar is already overwhelmed with expenses. Additionally, Rabi'u's father (Inna's husband) gave 50,000 Naira. That brings the total to 150,000 Naira. We need to decide how to use it."
I said, "Inna, whatever you decide is fine with me." My voice trembled, and I began to tear up. "I didn't expect you all to care for me and give me this honor, especially after I brought shame upon you in the past."
Inna's sister interrupted, "Everything is in the past now, Hafsat."
Inna then said, "You and Rahma should go to the market right now to buy kitchen utensils because we heard that as soon as the wedding ceremony is over, you will be leaving with your belongings." I noted, "If I had known, we wouldn't have bought things here because traveling all the way to Yola with heavy baggage is difficult. We could have bought them there." Inna explained that the items needed to be bought beforehand, but a moving truck had been arranged because Umar had requested the groom to provide one. I asked, "So, what should we buy now?" She said, "You know what you need better." I sighed, "Oh dear, I don't even know what I need because I am a student and didn't expect this marriage to happen so soon." She handed me the money, and I told Rahma to collect it.
As we stepped out to leave, we saw Sakina, my stepsister (Baaba’s daughter), and I told her to join us. We drove in Rahma's car to Kasuwar Bacci. I bought electronics like a TV and kitchen appliances like a blender. We spent 90,000 Naira. With the remaining money, I bought wedding provisions (gara), adding to the snacks (cincin, dubulan, and alkaki) that Inna had already prepared. We bought two bags of rice, three cartons of spaghetti, four bags of semovita, and large gallons of palm oil and groundnut oil. After spending the money, we headed back home.
We found them already loading the moving truck. Rahma told Yaya Umar to add the newly purchased items. He was relieved to see the wedding provisions I bought, admitting, "I was worried about where I would find the money to buy these things." I went inside as the house began to fill up with people.
Around 2:00 PM, our marriage to Abubakar was officially solemnized. At that exact moment, a traditional praise singer entered the house ululating loudly. My body went completely numb. Today, I officially became a married woman. However, I missed out on all our traditional bridal customs—no henna patterns (lalle), no bridal shower (kamu), and no hair treatment.
I took a shower and put on a Jallabiyya robe from the wedding suitcases along with its veil. Rahma came in and helped me apply makeup and perfume. She assisted me in choosing matching jewelry—a necklace, earrings, bracelets, and rings. I looked exceptionally beautiful, and the Jallabiyya fit perfectly.
She said, "Come out and greet Hashim and Sagir. They are leaving for Yola, while we will leave tomorrow at dawn. That means we have time this afternoon to go get your hair done and get henna body paint."
I replied, "Listen, if Abubakar is out there, I am not going out. I don't want him to humiliate me in front of people."
She said, "They are at a restaurant down the street where Umar took them to eat." We walked to the restaurant to meet Hashim and Sagir. Abubakar wasn't there.
Sagir immediately began teasing me, "Look at the groom's pride! The star of the celebration!"
Hashim said, "Call Umar to send the photographer here! The groom must see photos of her in this outfit. You look just like a beautiful Sudanese Arab woman, Masha Allah!"
I replied, "You guys are just teasing me, but thank you." We exchanged greetings, and Hashim mentioned, "Our elders have already left to catch their flight. We will be driving down tomorrow at dawn."
I noted, "But we planned a Walima in Kano."
Rahma replied, "You will just have to do it whenever you return."
I looked at Rahma and said, "Are we leaving Yola tomorrow? I really need to study because our exams start in ten days."
Hashim said, "Forget about going back to Kano tomorrow; the main wedding celebrations start in Yola tomorrow."
Sagir added, "We are also staying until the festivities are over before I return to work."
I sighed, "Um!" My only worry was that I hadn't tailored any new clothes for the event. Rahma realized this too but said nothing.
Just then, Hashim's phone rang. He answered and said, "Great, Munir! Have you entered the street? If you are on the third street, we are here at a restaurant right next to the mosque."
A chill ran down my spine, and my legs grew so weak that I could barely stand. I leaned against the wall. This sudden dread was triggered solely by the name "Munir," even though I had no confirmation it was the specific Munir I knew.
Before I could process it, I heard his voice at the entrance offering Islamic greetings. I gasped for air, barely able to breathe. As he walked in, his eyes scanned the room, and he froze completely as our eyes met.
Hashim, entirely oblivious to the tension, joked, "You're late, the marriage has already been solemnized."
Munir could not tear his eyes away from me. I didn't care what his gaze meant; on my part, I looked at him with pure hatred and deep animosity. My heart screamed inside me, Stand up and choke him! Slap him across the face! I abruptly stood up and stormed out in a rage.
Hashim called out, "Come back, Hafsat! What's wrong?"
Rahma got up and shouted, "Hafsat! Hafsat!"
I ignored them completely, unable to even see clearly where I was going. I would rather face the Angel of Death than look at Munir. I sat down inside the house, wiping away my sweat, completely deaf to what Innu and the others were saying. Apparently, I had blindly barged past people to get inside.
Rahma came and sat beside me, asking, "What is it?" Tears began to flow down my cheeks. She whispered in my ear, "Is he Shadad's father? I heard Hashim call him Munir." I didn't answer. I just wept bitterly until the women in the room stopped asking questions and left me alone.
Rahma pushed further, "Tell me, is he the one?" I said, "If he is, what can you possibly do to him?" She stood up to leave, but I pulled her back, saying, "Sit back down." I took a deep breath and said, "Rahma, let it go. There is only one thing I want to know: what is his relationship to Abubakar? If they are related, then even if the heavens and earth collide, I will never remain in their family."
Rahma cautioned, "Stop talking like that, it's bad luck. Calm down, I will call Hashim later." I said, "Leave them alone, I will investigate it slowly on my own."
Meanwhile, Sagir and Hashim were baffled by my sudden outburst, but Hashim began to suspect something. Indeed, Shadad bore a striking resemblance to Munir. Hashim looked at Munir, who was too restless to sit down, and said, "Sit down, sir, here is some food." Munir sat down, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped his sweat. Sagir and Hashim shook hands with him.
Changing the subject, Munir pointed at Sagir and asked, "Is this the groom?" Hashim replied, "No, the groom is in Yola. You know I told you he is marrying two wives."
Just then, Yaya Umar returned holding Shadad’s hand from his house. Shadad said, "Uncle, let me go to my Aunty. Is she in that room?" Umar confirmed she was. He had taken Shadad out earlier, which was why they just returned. The boy ran into the restaurant toward Sagir, asking, "Uncle, where is my Aunty?" Sagir replied, "She's at the house."
Munir stared intently at the boy, his heart pounding wildly as he watched him run off. He felt an overwhelming urge to grab the boy just to get a closer look at him—or perhaps he was just profoundly shaken by seeing Hafsa again. He stood up in visible distress and said, "Well, Hashim, may Allah bless the union. I must leave now."
Hashim asked, "So soon?"
Munir replied, "Yes, I have an urgent matter to attend to."
As they walked him out, Munir kept looking back nervously. He got into his car and drove off, talking to himself in confusion. He questioned himself, Is that boy, who looks exactly like me, truly Hafsa's son? Did she actually give birth to him? He spoke aloud, I swear I must claim my son. I can already feel my blood calling out to his, but still... He struck the steering wheel in frustration. Damn it, I know this will cause a massive family feud. Who can I even approach with this matter since none of my parents know about it? When he got home, he couldn't sit still, plagued by anxiety, and he couldn't dare tell his wife. Finally, he decided he would have to confide in their father (Dadynsu).
Back at the house, if not for Rahma’s insistence, I wouldn't have bothered with any bridal decorations. She had Sakina and Ummi find a local henna artist who painted floral patterns on my hands. She also bought me shampoo, because my wedding suitcases (lefe) had already been moved ahead, alongside separate traditional cloths brought by his family. Therefore, my personal things hadn't been unpacked. She did all this for me because I flatly refused to go to a beauty salon. I had temporarily forgotten my anger until Rahma brought out a collection of traditional bridal herbs and aphrodisiacs, insisting I drink them.
I told her she had better pack up her junk, otherwise she would lose her money because I would throw them away. She retorted, "They are right here in my bag. If you want to throw them away, go ahead. But if you are ready to use them, call me so I can explain how." I told her she was wasting her time.
We went to spend the night at Yaya Umar's house. I couldn't sleep at all. To be honest, seeing Munir again revived a deep hatred for men within me. God knows, if he is Abubakar's relative, I will not stay in this family.
The next morning, they woke me up: "Hey bride, wake up! We have a long journey ahead of us." Since I was on my period and exempted from prayers, I just took a bath, groomed myself thoroughly, and we set out. Yaya Umar, Ummi, Umar’s wife, and all of Inna’s relatives traveled with us. Sakina, Rahma, Shadad, and I rode in Hashim and Sagir’s car. Truly, Yola is very far away. We chatted continuously as the journey began."
Narrative Summary