Ten

It was the day long awaited. She had being dreading for this day. All felt surreal. She was going to get married to the youngest groom she had ever seen. Daada, Maama, Ummu and Abbu ignored all their whines and pleadings. Sadeeq didn't do most of the talkings, he could only smiled ruefully when he was being ask, 'For confirmation' as they always said.

Ihsan had been admitted to the hospital thrice throughout the week. The first attack she got was when the lefe (bride's gift from groms family) was brought and she couldn't believe it, and so her fragile heart. The second one was when Daada came in with a carton filled with invitation cards, he gave her and Maama; but what would she do with them? She can only tell Reena amongst her friends. The third one was when the Kano people started trooping inside their house, albiet they were only ten in number, Ihsan couldn't help but felt detached. It's real, her; Zainab Ibrahim Karaye, is getting married to Sadeeq Mustapha Argungu, that too in some minutes to go.

She cried herself to sleep yesterday. Sadeeq hadn't called her since the 'warning day', as she tagged it. She vowed to strangle his throat whenever she saw him. She slumped down on her drenched pillow, she was still in her pyjamas. Her head was seriously throbbing, she couldn't take a hold of herself and bath. This wasn't what she planned for her life to be.

A knock came on her door, she groaned before muttering "Come in," it was almost inaudible, but the person surprisingly heard it. 'He might be used to my habits' she thought in her mind.

Reena majestically sauntered inside the room. She wore a plain ankara gown, with a matching veil draped on her shoulders, and a shade; it was a bit sunny. She looked as beautiful as always, afterall; it was the only ankara she had in her closet. 

"The great Sadeeq's bride," she smirked, sitting beside Ihsan on the bed; whom just groaned out of irritation and yawed her gaze.

"Ihsan, you haven't even taken your bathe, get up please, or do you want him to come and meet you in this position? He can hate you, dumbo," Reena exclaimed, as if it was a big deal for Ihsan. To hate her; that's what she wanted.

Ihsan looked up from her pillow, and slowly squinted her eyes at her bestfriend, whom annoyed her now, more than anyone else. "Reena, wallahi if you'll be talking about him always, please leave, you can meet him somewhere else and talk," with that, she clasped back her bloodshot eyes, feeling the headache intensifying.

Reena couldn't believe what Ihsan just did. Who would lay on the bed, on his wedding day, without even make up or anything? Hell no! She wouldn't do that, even if she didn't love the husband. "Ihsanuwa, please let me help you, so you can take your bathe. I agree, it's not for him, but for you to feel good yourself," Reena tried to cajole, and was lifting up Ihsan's hand; when she yanked it up and closed herself completely with the duvet.

"Do what suits you well, I'm leaving," Reena shrugged it off and ascended downstairs. She began rummaging for Maama in the humongous obstreperous house, but to no avail.

"Reena, Alhandulillah you're here. Go with Peter to fetch some of my relatives from the airport please," Maama yelled from where she was; amidst a crowd of women.

Reena wanted to tell her, but she seemed so busy to even hear her. She just nodded and prowled out of the husband. She met the driver by the car, waiting for her and they both hopped in the car and zoomed off.

Ihsan felt like crying, and so she did let the tears flow freely. Is this what Daada called love? Is this how she thought Ummu cared for her? Why are the most crucial people in her life betraying her trust? She thought even if Daada wouldn't cancel the wedding, Ummu might help her, but they all proved her wrong.

Down the staircases, she heard the annoying Kano people yodelling at the pitch of their voices. She felt a pang in her heart. From all her visits to Kano, she knew they only yodel in a wedding when the knot is tied. Assuring to her suspicions, she heard her phone beeped. It was a message.

She took out the phone under her pillow before tapping on the text, as it came into veiw. She gulped down the lump she felt in her throat, and that's when the real water works started. Daada had ruined her life!

The message read...

♡

And mind you, a hell would be more sweeter to you than my house. Just pray to Allah to grant you good health, you wouldn't enjoy your life with me; as a matter of fact.

Wear something presentable, we're coming together with the photographer.

~~Your husband. ♡

What hurt her the most was how he shamelessly called himself her husband. Those his silly threats didn't bother her, for she knew she's the one to threaten him, and not the other way round.

Her temperature flaringly rose up, she kept shivering beneath the folds of her blanket. She heard the door creaked ajar, then the other side of her bed dipping in; emanating someone sat down there.

"Ihsan my dear," Maama called out softly, she couldn't suppress her happiness. Her daughter was finally a Mrs.

Ihsan ignored her and continued sniffing, she felt vulnerable, all her body pained. 

Maama moved closer and put her hand on her forehead; she felt her temperature, and that got her petrified. "Ihsan, laying down here won't change a thing, the knot has finally being knotted. You're sick my dear. Get up please, have your bathe, and wear one of those clothes I brought to you yesterday," Maama pleaded, but it loomed Ihsan wasn't ready to give in.

Maama lifted up her hand, that was when Ihsan yanked it off and piercely looked at her. "If you've ever wanted my happiness, you wouldn't have make this marriage happen. I'm now vulnerable, Maama, please get out of my room, I can't afford hating you in one of your best days. As I can see, you're ecstatic," Ihsan spoke with full sarcasm, and yawed her gaze from Maama's sight.

Maama stifle back the tears. What kind of life is this? Ya rabb! Help her out. And Daada isn't at home, and wouldn't be back any time soon. Who would she call to convince Ihsan so she could atleast take her bathe and dress up?

She silently walked out of the room, as if on cue; her gaze fell on Sadeeq and his friends whom was clad in an Ash Shadda with a silver embroidery on it's neck down the chest and hands. He perfectly wore a silver and ash zanna bukar, and was really gleaming like the ango he was.

He looked into her eyes, and she motioned for him to come. Prowling out of the crowd, he met Maama in a less obstreperous area in the living room. She looked sombre and worried.

"Maama, what happened? Is anyone sick?" He asked, he really wanted to ask wether it was Ihsan; but he couldn't muster up the courage. She's his wife now.

Maama held his hands, with a pleading look glinted in her eyes. "She isn't sick, let's say halfly sick. But that couldn't stop her from participating today. She has being in her room since morning, she didn't take her bathe nor her breakfast. And the Kano people being around, if she didn't come down and act normal, they'll mock on me; saying I was the one that neglected her, and she's now spoilt, blah blah. Help me Sadeeq, please. I've given her the clothes she should wear. She should choose between either the ankaras, laces, materials, or shaddah."

Sadeeq really felt sorry for her, the woman really had enough. "It's okay, Maama, she'll be out In shaa Allah," he conjectured, silently praying that Ihsan wouldn't be a hard nut.

"She's in her room. Thank you,  Sodikeke," She smiled warmly at him before a woman called her, and off she went.

Sadeeq avoided the possible gazes he could avoid, before he walked to her room, a jitter and serene feeling filled his heart. When he heard the Imam saying the knot is tied, he felt a relieved feeling washed down his heart, happiness filling his heart.

He opened the door, his eyes falling on her petite frame layed on the bed. An unexpected smile tucked up his lips, knowing that she's finally his, not that he loved her or something, but No! He proved her wrong.

He slowly sat on the bed, very close to her; she was probably oblivious to his presence. Ihsan perceived a man's cologne, she thought it was Daada, but never in her wildest dreams, had she thought that it would be Sadeeq.

"Get up and take your bathe," he demanded, he had always loved bossing her around. 

She seemed startled by hearing his voice, for she wasn't expecting someone even related to him. "Sa..d..," she trailed off, as his soft and warm index finger touched her chapped luscious lips whilst he hummed a 'shusshh' sound.