"Usama! Usama! Usama!"

"Usama, Mama is calling you."

"Fahad! You that is calling Usama, come here," Mama spoke.

"Ehhhh! This witch won't let me be," Fahad complained as Usama sniggered.

"Fahad get me that hand fan on the table."

Fahad turned and looked at the hand fan on the table which was only an arm's length from her.

"Isn't this woman troublesome enough?" Fahad pondered, "Why ask me to get it for her when it is just a few inches from her. This is just pure wickedness."

Mama looked up and regarded him closely.

"Fahad! Have you suddenly gone deaf?"

"I am sorry," he pleaded and gave her the hand fan.

"Sorry for yourself! Will you get out of my sight! You worthless fool!" she screamed at him.

He scurried out of the room in fear. No one wants to face Mama's wrath.

"Guy! Why didn't you answer Mama's call?"

"Hahaha, did she slap you?" Usama smiled at him.

"She didn't but she almost did. She was looking at me as if I stole her gold. That witch!" Fahad spoke in fury.

"Guy, calm down and forget that issue. When are we leaving? We need to leave when they are not around. Mama and Papa and going to attend a wedding on Saturday. We won't go to the factory or the shop. So we are free to leave that day," Usama explained.

"What about Oma? We can't leave her in the hands of these people. They will kill her," Fahad stated.

"There's no way we are leaving her here. We are definitely taking her with us. But we have be careful about it so no body is suspicious and raises alarm," Usama spoke.

"Alright."

******************************

"Usama, Take care of the house. Make sure you guys prepare supper before your Papa and I are back. I want you to make beans porridge. If you like, add the whole salt in the sea to the food, I will scrub the floor with your tongues," Mama sneeres with venom laced in her voice.

"Yes Mama," Usama replied shaking in fear.

"Oma, wear this. Get dressed quickly, you're coming with me," Mama added as she threw a polythene bag at me.

"Thank you Mama," I thanked her.

I left her presence and went into my room to change. It was a black Abaya with gold trimmings and flowers around the front. She also got me a gold coloured veil to match and black sandals. What could be the reason for mama's sudden generosity? I can't even remember the last time I followed her to a Nikkah(wedding in Islam).

"Oma, are you in labour?" Mama screamed impatiently from the house.

"I am coming," I yelled.

I hurriedly changed into the new clothes before Mama would direct her energy to me. There was one day I took time in serving her food, she gave me a heavy knock on the head. I can still see stars around my head each time I remember the knock.
There was a knock at the door.

"Assalam alaykum," Usama and Fahad both greeted from outside.

"Walaykum salam, please come in," I answered as I hurriedly draped the veil around my head.

"Oma, why is Mama taking you with her to the Nikkah?" Usama requested.

"I don't know why she asked me to go with her," I shrugged.

"Hmmmm! There must be a reason. The Mama that I know will never do that," Fahad pondered.

"Maybe to show off her white foster daughter," I guessed.

"No, I do not think so."

"There must be a reason."

"Well I do not know," I snapped, getting irritated.

Why are they suddenly questioning me. I get to attend a Nikkah and eat good food and these boys will not spoil my happy mood today.

"Anyway, We have something to tell you," Usama spoke in a serious tone.

"Spit it out!" I turned around and applied another layer of kernel pomade on my feet.

"We are leaving. Today."

"To where," I asked ignorantly.

"We are leaving to Kano today. We are following one of Papa's workers. He agreed to take us with him. We wanted you to come along but since..." Fahad stopped unsure of what to say.

I stopped what I was doing and turned to face them.

"What did you just say?"

"Look, Oma, the situation is bad now. We can't bring you with us because you're leaving with Mama. Please understand," Usama tried to reason with me.

"What situation!" I flared up, "What situation are you talking about? You can always wait for me."

"The bus leaves soon," was all Usama could say.

How can they be selfish.

"Okay, okay, please am begging the both of you. Don't leave me here. They are monsters. Please I beg you," I fell to my knees and grabbed their legs not caring if I ruined the Abaya that Mama gave to me. Usama raised me up and embraced me while Fahad began to pat my back.

By now I was in tears. Hot tears upon hot tears cascaded down my cheeks. Usama pulled me from the embrace and wiped the tears off my cheeks.
With this gesture, I thought they would reconsider and take me with them.

"Oma, don't cry. Please don't cry. We hate to see you cry," Fahad spoke with uneasiness.

"If you hate seeing me cry, then take me along," I sobbed, "Please."

"We can't. Please try and understand."

"We love you, Oma. We will always love you."

"Liars," I moved away from them as if they were hot rods.

"Oma, try..."

"I perfectly understand. You both are liars. You said you would protect me. Liars!" I screamed at them.

I fell to the floor, too weak to cry anymore. Usama placed his hand on my shoulder and tried to console me.

"Get your stinky hands off of me," I slapped his hands away.

They were both taken aback by my behaviour.

"Leave."

"Look... "

"Leave. Get out. Leave. Now."

They hurriedly left the room while I got up, readjusted my veil on my head and walked out of the room.

**********************

"Why are your eyes red?" Mama demanded as I met her outside the compound.

"Something entered my eyes," I lied.

She regarded me closely. I could tell she didn't fall for my lie.

"The tip of your nose is also red. You have been crying." she stated.

"It was because something entered my eyes," I was already getting tired of her talking.

"Alright, let us go."

We hailed an Okada man(a motorcyclist) who stopped for us.

"Where una dey go?(Where are both of you going to)"

"We dey go Alhaji Mustafa street.(We are going to Alhaji Mustafa street). How much?" Mama inquired.

"One hundred naira."

"Ah ah! It's not that far. We have only eighty naira," Mama bargained.

"Enter."

I climbed on top of the seat and Mama climbed after me. After we were all seated, he started his motorcycle and drove off. We got to the venue in no time and Mama paid him the transport fare.
We went in and I was amazed with the sight that greeted me. Everybody was dressed in different colours of clothing.

The Groom was dressed in brown ankara cloth and he was smiling as his friends were talking to him. Mama congratulated him and we moved into the main house to see the Bride. She was dressed in the same colour of ankara as her husband but had a lilac coloured hijab covering her head. Her hands and feets were decorated with beautiful Henna designs.

Masha Allah.

"Assalam alaykum," we both greeted the women.

"Walaykum salam," They all replied.

"Woodúde bagaando!(Beautiful bride)" Mama praised her in Fulani language.

"Nagode," the Bride thanked her in Hausa language.

"Fatoumata this your daughter is very beautiful," Mama Amina praised.

"Yowa!(Yes)" Mama smiled.

"Look at her skin. Spotless and white. You must be taking good care of her," Mama Bilqisu stated.

"Yes o!" Mama remarked.

What a lie!

"Look at her eyes. Masha Allah! She has such beautiful eyes. SubhanAllah(Glory be to Allah)."

"We thank Allah." Mama remarked.

The Women kept praising me while Mama laughed at their comments. I just smiled and busied myself with counting the number of threads I could find on my veil.

We were served cold soft drinks, cold zobo(a local drink), cold kunu(pap), rice, meat and Chin-Chin. Mama brought out black polythene bags and began to pour Chin-Chin, rice and meat inside them. I turned and saw the other women doing the same thing.

The Nikkah was fun. There was music and dancing. The bride was to be escorted to the groom's house. For a little while, I was able to forget about the pain I felt each time I thought about Fahad and Usama.

The Nikkah ended well and we left the house. We met Mama Ibrahim outside.

"Assalam alaykum," she greeted us.

"Walaykum salam," we replied her.

She walked up to us and hugged Mama. She then patted my head which caused me to grimace. I don't like it when people touch my head or hair.

"Fatoumata, she is lokking beautiful," Mama Ibrahim commented.

"Yes, she will make a good bride for him," Mama added.

I thought they were referring to the bride so I smiled at them. If only I knew.

"We will be coming next week to see your husband concerning the marriage."

"Alright. We will be waiting," Mama smiled.

Wait, what are they talking about?

Mama Ibrahim turned to me and pinched my cheeks, "My daughter! Our wife! How would you love to get married to my son, Ibrahim?"

What!

I wanted to say something but Mama sensed my anger and looked at me with baleful eyes. I kept shut immediately.

"She doesn't want to answer."

"She must be very excited," Mama laughed.

I could no longer register what they were saying. All my brain could think of was that one word, wife.

WIFE! WIFE! WIFE! WIFE! WIFE!

My brain kept replaying this word.

WIFE!

Alhamdulilah!
Hello to you.
I hope you like this chapter.
Am so sorry for MIA.
but am back now.
Please don't forget to vote, comment and share.
I love you all. 😘