THE BILLIONAIRE 'S FORCED NIKKAH

CHAPTER 1: Aisha Hassan stood at the window of her father's small but beautiful house in Garissa, watching the goats in the compound. The Garissa sun was hot at 11am, dust blowing softly from the sandy compound. She was 22, final year at Garissa University, Faculty of Education, and she had big plans that no one in her family understood. She wanted to open a library for girls. Not a big library like in Nairobi, but a small one under the big acacia tree near Garissa Primary School, where street kids could come and read. For three years she had been teaching ten small kids there with only one tattered English book. That was her happiness. She did not want marriage. She wanted to finish her degree, get a job at Garissa Teachers College, and help her mother. "Aisha! Come down! He is here!" her mother shouted from downstairs. Her mother's voice sounded nervous, not happy like a mother whose daughter is about to meet a suitor. Her heart sank. Today was the day her father had arranged for her to meet the man she was supposed to marry. A man she had never seen, never spoken to. A man from Nairobi. She walked down slowly, her bare feet on the cool cement floor. In the sitting room sat her father, Mzee Hassan, looking tired and old. His shop in Garissa town was not doing well these days and he had been sleeping badly. Next to him sat a man she had never seen before. He wore a clean white kanzu and a black coat on top, like rich men from Eastleigh wear. He was tall, maybe 6 feet 2 inches, handsome, with a thick beard trimmed neatly, but his face was cold. No smile. This was Bilal Abdalla, 28, from Nairobi. Owner of Abdalla Construction Companies, the company that builds roads and big houses in Karen and Westlands. "Aisha, this is Bilal," her father said, trying to smile. "Son of my old friend Abdalla from Nairobi." Aisha did not sit. She stood near the door, holding her leso. "Father, we talked about this. I don't want to marry now. I want to finish school. I have final exams in two months. How can I marry?" Bilal looked at her, then spoke for the first time. His voice was deep, calm, but with power. "You can finish school in Nairobi. After marriage. I have already spoken to University of Nairobi. Transfer is easy." That made her angry. The way he spoke like her life was already decided. Like she was a bag he could transfer. "Who are you to decide my life? I don't even know you! You come to my father's house and talk about my school like you own me!" "Aisha!" her father shouted, standing up. His face was red. "Have respect! This is not how we raised you! He is our guest!" Bilal stood up slowly. He was even taller than she thought. His white kanzu was ironed perfectly, his perfume was expensive. He looked at Mzee Hassan, then at Aisha. "Mzee, maybe we should let her think. But the deal stands. If you want me to clear your debts, this marriage must happen Friday. The bank will not wait. My lawyer has the papers ready." Debts? Aisha turned to her father, confused and scared. "What debts? What is he talking about? What deal? Baba, what is he saying?" Her father's eyes filled with tears. He sat down heavily on the old sofa and covered his face with his hands. Her mother came from the kitchen and held him. That was when Aisha knew her family was hiding something big, something that would destroy her whole life and her dream of a library.