Married To A Tyrant

Before The Wedding (Part 10)

SALMA

The tiny droplets of rain slid down my bedroom window. The cold air seeped in through the partial opening of the window, as I watched the bits of rain fall on my carpet. On any other day, I would have stood up to close it. But not today. Today, I let it fall.

The ceiling fan swung lazily over the room, blowing a subtle breeze around the room. Any other person would have turned off the fan because of the cold. But I wasn't any other person.

I was cooped up in my duvet, pressing my phone to my ear. Safiya still hadn't answered my call after forty seven missed calls. No one bothered to tell me that she had left for Kano five days ago. She had missed the engagement, and I needed my best friend beside me. This marriage isn't something I can go through with if she wasn't by my side.

I've been trying to call her for three days now, but she still hadn't answered. I tried calling her friend's house where she was staying, but no one answered as well. I was becoming very frustrated, because she had called Nana this morning and she didn't even ask about me. Mama ignored all my inquiries about her sudden disappearance, simply telling me that she'd be back very soon.

When she didn't pick the call for the umpteenth time, I threw the phone aside and pressed my fingers into my forehead. I was beginning to get a migraine, but I ignored it because I've been getting migraines constantly now. I rolled over and rummaged through my bedside drawer for some medication. I've been stacking painkillers in my drawer since the day Mama broke the news to me. They helped to ease the pain, but somehow I felt like a drug addict, constantly drowning my pain and misery away. But I couldn't stop. The pain was far too unbearable.

My fingers finally felt the paper bag the pills were in. I pulled two pills out and threw them into my mouth, sipping water from the bottle on the drawer. I screwed the cap back and dropped the bottle, just as I heard the adhan calling for Asr prayer. I dragged my feet to the bathroom, shutting my eyes as the bright light was making my headache worse. The painkillers hadn't kicked in yet. Groping about, my hands found the light switch and I quickly dimmed to light to a bare minimum. I opened my eyes slowly once again, and this time the light didn't hurt so much. Gingerly, I walked towards the mirror.

I placed my hands on either sides of the bathroom mirror and opened my eyes. My hair had fallen over my face, so I pushed it back where it rested smoothly against my back in curly waves. I stared up at my reflection, the figure staring back at me looking very unfamiliar. But at this point, I'd gotten used to seeing this image staring back at me. My eyes were extremely bloodshot, and the mascara I'd put on this morning was running down my face with the tears. My nose was bright red, and several pimples had popped up all over my face. My lips were chapped, and my shoulder were sagging unnaturally.

"What are you turning into, Salma?" I whispered to my reflection, staring deep into her hazel eyes. She smiled weakly back at me, her collarbones jutting out against her skin. Her cheekbones were sharper and more prominent than ever against her clammy skin. The eye bags underneath her eyes were proof that she hadn't slept in days.

"How did this happen to you?" I asked, c*****g my head. She c****d her head as well, and her lips curve downward sadly. "Life isn't fair." she replied.

"Where is the fire that once burned in your eyes?" I asked, a single tear sliding down my cheek.

"That fire has been quenched," she replied, "by the river of inevitability. The flame that once burned in my soul is now reduced to dying embers, with no spark to ignite them."

I drooped my head as more tears poured from my eyes. You'd think a girl will get tired of crying. But I wasn't tired of crying. I'd been crying nonstop for several days, but my tear ducts were still not dried up yet.

"Mamana, kina ciki ne (My mother, are you in there)?" Mama called, knocking the bathroom door softly. I coughed so she'll know I'm in here.

"Kiyi sauri ki fito (Hurry up and come out here)." she said. I heard the sound of her sitting on my bed, and I banged my head against the wall. Whatever it was, it must be serious if she wasn't leaving. I wasn't ready to face her. Deep down, I was still mad at her.

I splashed water on my face, washing off the black stains on my sunken cheeks. I dragged my comb through my hair, trying in vain to smoothen out the strands. But like everything else in my life, it refused to fall in place. Finally, I gave up and left it the way it was. I brushed my teeth once again, taking my time so that Mama could decide to leave.

I performed my wudu and stepped out of the bathroom. Mama was sitting on my bed just as I thought, smoothening the edges of my wrinkled sheets. "Yaushe zaki chanja bedsheets dinnan (When are you going to change these bedsheets)?" she asked without looking up at me.

"Very soon." I replied, picking up my hijab. I avoided her gaze, as I knew tears would instantly return to my eyes if I did.

"Well don't forget, Annaza fatu minal iman (Cleanliness is part of faith)." she said, looking up at me. "Finish praying, so we can talk, my child."

I placed my prayer mat in the direction of the Qibla and began to pray. On the last sujood, I tried to ask the Almighty to grant my wishes, but no words came to my mind. I tried to think of my problems, but I couldn't focus on any specific one. I gave up and blinked, a single drop of tear falling onto the mat. I sat for my tahiya and Salam'd after completing it.

As I supplicated, Mama watched me very closely. I finished and raised my hands up to pray, but I still couldn't think of anything so I simply said Alhamdulillah.

As I folded the mat and my hijab, Mama coughed to get my attention. "Why are you doing this to yourself, Mamana? Why do you want to kill yourself over this?" she asked.

I didn't say anything and continued to fold my hijab, turning my back to her. It hurt to even look at her, and remember that she was the one who put me in this situation in the first place. I still couldn't understand why she thought so highly of Mansur. Surely, she must know how morally irresponsible he is. And yet, she still wanted to get us married. I wanted to know why, but I couldn't bring myself to it. Some things were better left unknown.

"Allah instructed us to marry, Salma. It's expected of every mature woman such as yourself to marry. The Prophet (S.A.W) himself said he pities the woman who dies without marrying at least once in her lifetime. Why are you upset because you're simply doing something Allah himself instructed us to so?" she asked, moving closer towards the edge of the bed.

"I'm not upset, Mama. I just have a migraine and I need to lie down for a while." I sighed, dropping the hijab in my closet.

"But you haven't eaten since yesterday's lunch. So kike ki kashe kanki (Do you want to kill yourself)?" she asked. I could hear the sadness in her voice, but I was equally as sad as her. A broken soul can not heal another broken soul.

"Mama trust me, I'm fine. I just need to rest please. Okay?" I sighed, looking at her. She gave me a weak smile and continued to smoothen my bedsheets. "I'll let you rest." she said. "You need it."

"Salma," she smiled, standing up slowly. "You know I love you, right? More than you'll ever understand."

"Thank you." I smiled, climbing into bed. She gave me a kiss on the forehead before she left the room, dimming the lights on her way out.

*****

"Salma, wake up." Nana said, shoving me slightly. I groaned and turned my back to her, but she continued to shove me. "Ki tashi (Wake up)." she said. "God, it's such a nightmare trying to wake you up. You sleep like a dead person.

"For heaven's sake, what's the problem? Why are you disturbing my sleep?" I asked.

"Aunty Asmau tace in gaya miki wai Mansur yana kasa. Wai yana jiran ki (Aunty Asmau said I should inform you that Mansur is downstairs waiting for you)." she said, dashing out of the room instantly.

Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi rajiun.

I wasn't in the mood to see him. This wasn't the right time. I still hadn't gotten over the shock of being engaged to him already.

"This can't be happening." I groaned, throwing the duvet aside. He was the last person I wanted to see right now. Why was he even here?

Not even bothering to check my appearance, I grabbed my hijab and hastily wore it, walking out of the room.

The horrible man was sitting on the hood of his car, scrolling through his phone. He was wearing a navy-blue tee shirt, with black jeans and suede Chukkas. He was wearing a Vincero wristwatch as well. I'd come to recognize the brand so well ever since Jafar became obsessed with them.

Slowly, he turned his head in my direction to show that he knew I was there.. I swallowed the horrible feeling rising in my throat and walked up to him. "Assalamu alaikum." I greeted.

He didn't even turn to look at me, not to talk of answering my greeting. I stood beside the car and stared at the asphalt, folding my arms across my chest.

"Why are you always in that awful hijab?" he asked, three minutes of utter silence later. "Anyway, never mind." he said before I had a chance to reply.

"Umma tace in zo in duba ki (Umma said I should come and check on you). In case she calls you, tell her I came here and we spent almost two hours talking about... Whatever! Just tell her I was here." he said, sliding off the hood. I stared up into his eyes, but he avoided my gaze. He looked irritated; like he physically didn't want to be here. The feeling was mutual.

"She also said I should give you this." he said, thrusting a jewelry box into my hands. He opened the passenger's door and pulled out a large box. "This is yours as well." he said, dropping it beside me. He slammed the door shut and went around the car, opening his door. Pausing, he shut the door and came over to stand in front of me. I cautiously took a step back.

"Listen to me very carefully," he said, pointing his car keys threateningly at me, "Don't even think for a second that I approve of this marriage. It's just a facade; a mere illusion to keep both our families happy. I despise you, so you'd better not forget that. Don't think that you're coming to my house as my wife. Assume that you're going to be staying with me as a tenant. Nothing more. If you even try to get on my nerves, you'll see the worst side of me. And trust me, you wouldn't want that to happen."

With that, he walked back to his car and hopped in, speeding away. I shut my eyes and looked up at the sky. In the distance, I heard the adhan calling the Asr prayer. I heaved a sigh and turned back to the house, leaving the box right where he dropped it. I dropped the jewelry box on it as well, not looking back as I walked into my home.

For now!!!!