•Bilal

So...

I was absent for Yusra's wedding. I had to leave that blessed day to sort some things back at Maiduguri.

The trip was supposed to last for a week so I had no choice but to leave because it concerned my mother.

So much has happened but it's too sacred to be said.

We've missed promised dates with Ruqayyah's family but here we are today finally discussing how and when the wedding will take place.

A year ago, we actually had a meeting but it was more like an introduction. It was a way for her parents to get to know me, my mother and baba Imran. We asked for the wedding to be pushed to a year from that time so that I'll be able to stabilize financially. Now that I'm ready...

Let's hope this meeting goes well.

In Somalia,when one comes to formally ask for the girl's hand in marriage, he's expected to bring gifts that will be exchanged with that of the bride's family. I'd like to define that as the proposal but such doesn't exist in her country.

We're all gathered in her parents house with my mother, Step-Father, Bilan and her parents. We handed several baskets of things which I wasn't sure of their contents since it was my mother who selected what was to be put inside.

"So when would you like the wedding to be held Mr Guuleed?" Baba Imran asked.

Don't mind me, that's actually my Step-Father but I couldn't bring myself to call him that to his face. Even after eight years of my father's demise, I couldn't call another man 'father'. It feels like a crime though I know it isn't.

After he kicked the bucket, my mother decided to leave the country to join me in London but her family pressured her into agreeing to marry his younger brother as customary to the Shari'a law.

"The 4th of October is fine with us. But there's a condition." Mr Guuleed confirmed.

"What's the condition?" My Step-Father questioned.

"Well, we'd like to have some events here and the rest in Somalia."

"That won't be a problem. Allah will see us through." Baba Imran concurred.

"Ameen Ya Rabb." Mrs Bint said.

"Bilal won't you talk to your bride to be?" My mother teased and Bilan blushed for the nth time today.

"I will." I muttered, still shy as both our parents were watching us.

"You may go outside since both of you are too shy." Mrs Bint said with a toothy grin on her face.

We both rose up from the carpeted floor and walked out of the living room. Instead of going outside, we decided to stay in the next parlour since it had started raining heavily outside.

"How is Aaliyah faring?" She asked, which surprised me a lot seeing that she wasn't very fond of Aaliyah.

"She's fine. She even asked me to pass her greetings on to you "

"Tell her thank you."

"I will."

"Do you know that the 4th is Aaliyah's birthday."

"Oh wow." She said in a dry undertone as she rolls her eyes dramatically.

"What happened?"

"You can't seem to stop talking about Aaliyah for just a second. Why is that?"

"Somebody is jealous!" I laughed while wiggling my eyebrows.

"Shut up!" She pouted.

"When are you going to understand that she's like a sister to me Bilan? You're worrying too much and it's not good for you health. I came here just to see you!We have each other and that's all that matters."

"Clap for yourself doctor Phil!" She frowned, "I know. It's just that I can't help it to feel like she has a bigger place in your heart than I do. I mean, you're the one I'm in love with but it feels like I'm not the one you're in love with." She sighed.

"That's where you're wrong! She has a place in my heart but I didn't say that the place you occupy is less. I love you much more than you can imagine. It's only a matter of time before you become my wife. Bilan marriage is a union built on love and trust. If we don't have that then it's baseless. You need to learn to trust me."

"I trust you Bilal. I'm just scared."

"You don't have to be scared when you know you have me where you want me. Don't burden your heart with suspicions that'll make a hole in it. Allah is with both of us. Everything will be fine."

"Alright I'll stop worrying." She smiled a little smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Ok."

"At least one event is happening on  the 1st of October!" She beams as she claps noisily like a child. Which was cute by the way.

Hysterical. One of the events is on Independence day!

"Yes! At least we can celebrate your birthday in a grand style."

"To be honest, I wouldn't want to do anything on the Independence day of Nigeria but we have to since the day has been picked ."

"It's the Independence day?!" She asks, perplexed.

"Yes."

"Oh wow! That's amazing but most of the crowds attention will be on the country. It'll be a massive party. I don't care! If they care they'll try to attend our own wedding event."

"It's not a party babe. It's just Nigeria's birthday. There may be a march past at the eagle square but not everyone attends. We'll be fine. Don't worry."

I don't blame her for not knowing. She didn't grow up in Nigeria. Most of her life was spent in Somalia before she went to further her education abroad then came back to Nigeria in the early stages of her adulthood.

"Let's go and meet them. I'm sure they're gossiping about us." She laughs.

"Probably."

"Except daddy. You know he's the quiet type."

We found the living room empty much to our confusion. Laughing could be heard from the dinning room so we followed it and we found our parents getting along. It looked like some high school reunion. There was loud chattering and an Arabic song was playing in the background.

I didn't expect this to be honest. Her father has been known to be a bit tacit and reserved but here he was talking about his soon to be son in-law and daughter. Just as we expected.

"Salamu Alaykum." We greeted as we made ourselves comfortable on the table.

"Wa Alaykumusalam! We were just talking about you two." My mum giggled.

You don't say...

"Sit! It's time for *qado. Here's some *baasto. It's really nice." She added, "Bilan where are your manners? Serve my son some food!" She scowled.

"Yes Mama." She muttered.

She served me and herself before the table became quiet with the teasing.

"How is this made? It tastes so good!" My mother asked and Baba Imran glared at her.

"This is *baasto. It's basically pasta with a few spices which by the way are our family secrets but since you've become one of us already I'll tell you."

Mrs Bint explained everything elaborately as my mother listened attentively till she was done.

"And this is Tufaax. Simply apple juice."

"Masha Allah! You'll have to teach me how to make it too." My mother said comically much to Baba Imran's chagrin.

"All the beverages are quite easy to make. Don't worry, with time you'll learn. It was confusing at first but with time I got the hang of it. I'm originally from Jigawa but when her father married me he took me to Mogadishu where we started a new life. I learnt from his mother. May her soul rest in peace, she was a very humble woman."

"Allah ya jikanta." We chorused.

"Ameen." Both her parents responded.

We ate in a comfortable silence with our parents who occasionally brought up different topics which they found interesting.

So, in a way, Somalians can be like Nigerians just without the culture. I learnt that some of their foods are similar to that of Nigeria.
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This is for those that are confused, Bilan is Ruqayyah. If you remember I mentioned in a previous chapter that her full name is Ruqayyah Bilan Guuleed.

Qado-Lunch

Baasto-Pasta

~Aisha Safiyanu🥀