Married To A Tyrant

Before the Wedding (Part 6)

SALMA

"Which looks better? This one, or this one?" Safiya asked, holding up two identical beige pumps. These were the seventh pair she was showing me in the last thirty minutes. I had seen enough shoes to last me a lifetime already. And yet, she didn't look like she was ready to slow down. Rather, she seemed to be looking for even more shoes to try on.

"This one." I said, pulling her wrist. "Now, let's go and pay." I groaned, trying to drag her to the counter. I didn't care what shoes she got, as long as it meant we would get out of here. I needed to lie down, and snuggle with my Teddy bear. Maybe read a good book or two.

"No. I prefer this one." she said, pulling herself free. "Or maybe I should get those flats I saw back there. I think I should go and check them out once again. Maybe I'll find some different ones. Who am I even kidding? I'll just get them all."

"For the love of Allah, please let's go. We've been in this store for two hours now. Let's go and finish buying what Mama said." I sighed.

"Will you chill out? We still have enough time." she said, checking her wristwatch. I rolled my eyes and sat back down. "Please hurry up." I said, glancing at a cute pair of flats.

"I'll be back before you can say six-inch stilettos." she winked. "Whatever." I muttered as she walked away. Shoe shopping with her is so annoying. I don't even know why I decided to come with her. I just needed something to distract me.

"Excuse me Miss," someone suddenly said behind me. I whirled around, and saw an elderly man stooping slightly. "Could you please direct me to the kitchen appliances aisle? My eyesight is not as strong as it used to be."

"Of course, it's three aisles down this way." I smiled, pointing him in the direction.

"Actually, I was hoping you could escort me towards it." he smiled. He looked to be in his late fifties, and his receding grey hairline was a testament to his age. The skin across his forehead was beginning to wrinkle slowly as well.

"Sorry, but I'm actually waiting for someone. If I leave now, she may come here before I return. Sorry." I said, giving him my best smile.

His shoulders sagged, and he bowed his head slightly as he sighed. "Very well. But in that case, I guess I should just be blunt with you. I actually came here to try and get your phone number. You look like a very responsible girl, and I'll like to make your acquaintance." he said.

It took me a few seconds before my brain registered what he was trying to say. This man is hitting on me. And he's not even ashamed of asking. The nerve of some people.

Wow!

"Um..." I started, unsure of what to say. "No offence, but aren't you a little too old to be asking for my phone number? I mean, you're old enough to be my father."

"Age is just a number. Please understand that my intentions are genuine. I'm not here for anything other than to get to know you. I realise that this puts you in an awkward situation, but I can assure you that once we get to know each other, everything will become better. You have nothing to worry about." he said.

"Are you being serious?"

"Yes."

"Like actually serious?"

"One hundred percent."

"Um... I don't know what to say."

"How about you just give me your phone number, and we'll continue this conversation some other time?" he asked, handing me his phone. I stared at the phone in his hand, contemplating what to do.

"Salma, tashi mu tafi. Na samu wanda nake so (Salma, let's go. I found the one I want)." Safiya suddenly said, appearing out of thin air. She stopped abruptly as she stared at me, her eyes darting between me and the man standing beside me. "What's going on here?" she asked.

"Actually..." he began, taking a step towards her.

"Actually, he was about to leave. Thank you very much, sir. Have a nice day." I smiled, pulling Safiya away from him. As we walked out of the store, I turned back one last time to look at him as he stood dumbfounded in the middle of the store.

"Alhamdulillah." I muttered to myself.

"What was that?" Safiya suddenly asked.

"Nothing. Just know that you're a life saver." I smiled at her.

"Of course I am." she smirked. "But you still have to tell me what was going on back there."

"I'll tell you in the car." I sighed, glancing back at the entrance. Surprisingly, he'd followed us outside . A small smile was on his face as he waved at me. Feeling guilty, I waved back before hopping into the car.

"Were you just waving at him?" Safiya asked as she hopped back.

"No." I lied.

*****

"Mama, kinsan me ya faru yau a Sahad (Mother, do you know what happened today at Sahad)?" Safiya said immediately we walked into the house.

"Wa alaikum as salam." Mama replied sarcastically.

"Sorry. Assalamu alaikum." she greeted.

"Wa alaikum as salam. Now, tell me what happened." she said.

"If you tell her, I'm also going to tell her what happened on Thursday between you and Jafar." I said, glaring at her.

"You're bluffing." she laughed, narrowing her eyes.

"Try me." I said.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me later. But for now, both of you should go and try on your *anko for Ummi's wedding. The tailor just brought them. They're in your rooms." Mama said, dismissing us with a wave of her hand. Both of us rushed off instantly, each heading to her room. But unknown to me, Safiya came back to tell Mama everything that happened. The little traitor.

The anko was a bright blue and pink gown with golden embroidery. The sleeves were long and made of sheer blue satin. My head tie was very huge, almost the same height as the dress, and it went round my body twice.

I slipped into the gown and loosely draped the head tie over my head, checking my reflection in my full-length mirror. 'Not bad' I thought to myself, zipping it up. The only issue I had with the gown was the position of the zip. I had told the tailor to place the zip at the sides, but he had foolishly placed it at the back. I hate zips at the back because then I'll have to get someone to help my unzip it before I take off the gown. But nevertheless, I loved the gown. I knew Safiya's gown will be entirely different from mine, because she had given the tailor specific instructions to make sure that hers was better than mine. And unlike me, she had opted for a skirt and blouse instead of a gown. I could already picture the smile on her stupid little face if someone pointed out that hers was better than mine.

As I turned around to make sure the dress wasn't too tight at the back, my door opened suddenly and Mama's head peeked in.

"Mamana, ina so inyi magana dake (My mother, I'll like to speak with you)." she said.

"Okay. But first, what do you think about the dress?" I asked, twirling around.

"It's nice. But this isn't the time to discuss this. Come to my room. Now." she said, shutting the door.

Dun... Dun... Dun...

This does not sound good. Whenever Mama is this serious, it means there is a big issue at hand. I quickly slipped out of the gown and into my former clothes, folding them neatly and stashing them in my closet.

"Assalamu alaikum." I whispered as I stepped into Mamah's room. The cold air instantly slapped me in the face, and the scent of her incense sticks. Her room was dark as usual, as the curtains were drawn tight. Mama's room reminded me of the Chamber of Secrets from the Harry Potter franchise. The emerald green wallpaper didn't help to brighten the room. Her sheets were black, same as the duvet, and her carpet was black as well. The lights in the room were always set to dim, the only bright source of light coming from the bathroom. She never turned the light bulbs off, and the door was always ajar.

She muttered a reply to my greeting and sat down on the bed. I cautiously tiptoed towards her and sat down on the floor beside her.

"Tell me what happened today at Sahad Stores." she said straightaway. I blinked, wondering why she was in this mood over what happened.

Remind me to strangle Safiya later.

I told Mama everything that happened, from the moment when the man walked up to me, to when Safiya and I left him. When I finished, she kept quiet for a very long time, staring at a spot on the wall. It was the place where a picture of she and Baba had hung before Jafar accidentally broke it.

I fiddled with my fingers, unsure of what else to say. We sat in an uncomfortable silence for several minutes, each absorbed in her thoughts.

"Salma," she finally spoke, "kinsan dai maganar da baban ku yake tayi akan ke da Safiya koh? Nasha gaya miki ki daina mu-amala da maza. Ku kunqi samo miji, kuma gashi maza sai binku sukeyi. Ku yanzu bazaku maida hankali ku samo miji ba (You know how your father has been complaining about you and Safiya right? I've told you several times to stop associating with men. Both of you have refused to find suitable husbands, and men are chasing both of you. When are you girls going to focus on getting a good husband)?"

"Wallahi Mama it's not like that." I said, staring down at my fingers. This conversation has escalated pretty quickly.

"Then what is it like? Are you planning on waiting until Nana gets married before both of you will?" she said, waving her hands in the air. I kept quiet, although I was bursting to speak up. I'd learned a long time ago that the worst thing you could possibly do was to interrupt Mama when she was speaking.

"Most of your age mates are already married. I don't know when both of you will join them as well." she continued. "Is it too much to ask for a decent son in-law?"

"Allah ya baki hakuri (May Allah appease you)." I said quietly.

"Anyway, I've already made up my mind. Since you're not ready to find someone, I have someone in mind." she said.

I looked up at her instantly, my eyes widening in shock. "Da gaske (Are you serious)?" I asked.

"Very serious. As a matter of fact, your father suggested him as well, but I wasn't too sure. But now, I've made up my mind. You may leave my room." she dismissed me, standing up as she walked into her bathroom.

I felt a hollow emptiness in my soul as I stood up to leave her room. Who could she possibly be thinking of? And how could Baba also recommend him as well?

Surely she must be joking. There is no way Baba would decide to marry me off to a stranger. That is impossible. I know my father. He'd never marry me off to a complete stranger.

Did I know him? Was he a responsible person? But more importantly, was he the type of person I would want as a husband? These were the important questions which need to be considered before anything related to marriage is discussed. Marriage isn't all fairy tales and happily ever afters. It is a never ending commitment. It is something which has to be thought about very carefully.

"This can't be happening." I thought to myself. Mama would never do something like this. She must be joking. I'm an adult, so I have the right to choose who I want as a husband.

Gone are the days when the parents would choose someone they wanted to marry their daughter. This is the 21st century. Arranged marriages don't happen anymore. She can't be serious.

A million other thoughts raced through my mind as I stepped out of her room, shutting the door behind me.