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TRAPPED IN A JUNGLE

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love-triangle
fated
arranged marriage
manipulative
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twisted
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Blurb

#Written 2013

She woke up early that morning feeling extremely detached, a feeling alien to her, as if she no more belonged to the world, a feeling of defeat, as if she had lost everything she had ever owned or everyone she had ever called hers. What had she really done? Never in her life has she felt so dejected and weak, like the world was crumbling in her head.

Sadness.... something she never really undesired. Why? Why be sad of something which had already happened? After all there was no point crying over spilled milk. Unfortunately, when you get sad, it's like being stabbed in the heart a thousand times without dying.

Husnah, your typical and ideal young African lady. Poised, beautiful; in an understated way and nd highly reserved..... what happens when she finds herself trapped in the shackles of an arranged marriage with the least expected person; the proud and egocentric Nabeel, someone she considers her greatest enemy. To crown her dilemma is Fareedah! The beautiful, cunning and loving first wife.

Join Husnah in her journey through the jungle she finds herself trapped in..... will there ever be a route out? Or will she forever be trapped in the jungle? Only when you add this book to you library will you puzzles be solved.

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ONE
HUSNAH I woke up early that morning feeling detached and lugubrious. It was like i did not belong to the world anymore, a feeling like i had lost everything, everyone and left with zilch. Where did i go wrong to deserve such inexpedient treatment? I had never felt so dejected, lassitude and plunged into an abyss of melancholy, feeling like the world is crumbling on my head while i drown in an ocean of debilitation. I sighed again, for the umpteenth time since i woke up, turned to my left side and got a glimpse of my little sister, sleeping peacefully. I wish i could be the one sleeping as peacefully as she was doing. I nudged her and whispered into her ears. "Hey lil sis, wake up. Forgotten that today is a bright and new day for us?" Amal moaned, turning her head to the opposite direction, avoiding my nudge and whispers. It got me high. "Hey! Wake up you brat!" I said as i smacked her on her laps. She shrieked in pain and turned quickly to look at my smiling face. "Ouch! That hurts you know" Amal said, her right hand on her chest as she fake a sad face "what's that for?" She added, a little bit pissed off. " You have forgotten what today is i guess?" I said, rolling my eyes. "Yaa Allah!" Amal exclaimed "I'm so sorry sis, how can i forget that today is your engagement day with yaa Nabeel" Amal said, jumping up excitedly. Tears crept into the corner of my eyes, and i could feel my heart heating up in anger. So it really is happening. I asked Amal just to make sure it was an illusion, but her reaction made the gut-wrenching fact glare at me. It was for real. Am getting engaged to a guy as cold as an ice, as stupid and dumb as a village rat!. I felt Amal's fingers tracing my tears, as she use her thumb wiping them off. "I know its hard for you sis, you just have to endure it and go with the flow. You crying and whimpering won't stop our parent from doing what they seem to see fit. I know its hard, but you just have to obey them". "Am doomed lil sis, am doomed for eternity. I hate him. We both hate each other. Worst of all is that he's already married, and he's in love with his wife. How do you think i can face this?" I said, and this time around, am crying so hard. My heart ache, in pain, filled with hatred and anger. "You can make it sis. You can do it. Trust in your beautiful heart and everything will be okay". I was named Asma'ul husnah, but people preferred calling me husnah. I kind of love the name. I am twenty-two years old. My dad is a very influential business man, Nationwide. My mom was a typical house wife. I have four sibling, three of which are guys and Amal our last born, making us five in number. Hamma khaleel is an international pilot, Hamma jabir an engineer and Hamma Naseer a doctor. Hamma khaleel and Hamma jabir are all married, blessed with two kid to one respectively. Hamma Naseer is the only single guy left, a bachelor to be precise. Lol. I graduated from university of jos as a linguist. I don't know what got into me when i decided to study such a course, i guessed i wasn't in my senses. But i later realized that there were prospect with the course when i met some prolific and international linguits. Back to my issue, I was been compelled into an arranged marriage with someone i hated so very much. Well. No doubt, he hates me too. We are family friends, seems like his wife is a barren. Oppsss. I never said so. Well....here i am, ready to go into an arranged marriage. Nabeel, my so called fiancee was an interpreneur. He was married to a beautiful lady called fareedah. I wiped the tears dripping from my eyes as i walked into the bathroom "you better get up Amal, we need to leave this house before mom starts her little drama na bamuda kunya" i said. "Make it snappy. You bath like a woman who just gave birth yesterday" Amal teased. "Whatever". I said slipping into the bathroom. I showered for almost thirty minutes before coming out, tied around my body was a white fluffy towel. I tiptoed to my closet signalling Amal to get in a get a quick bath, forgetting that i took almost thirty minutes in there washing up my body. I dressed in a brown ankara, skirt and blouse. It had a touch of yellow so i paired it with a yellow veil. I tied my hair in a bun before tying the head gear. I applied a little Kohl to my terrible sulky eyes to hide how irritating they look with a nude lipstick on my carefully carved lips. I went back into our room and found Amal in her closet getting dressed. "Am going to say hi to mama, meet me down stairs when you are done". "Okay" she replied absent mindly. I walked slowly, as i go down the stairs carefully. How i so much hate stairs. Argh! If its up to my taste, our house wouldn't be an upstairs. Mama was sitting comfortably in the living room, on one of the black leather couch arranged beautifully. She's in her mid forties, a very nice and hardworking woman. Aunty ladi, my dad's little sister was sitting beside her. They were talking in hushed tone, and the moment they sighted me coming, they kept quite. "Ahhghh! Whatever. Its not like I give a damn about what you guys are talking about". I mused to myself, as I walk over to them. "Nyallijam" I greeted them both, using our native language. Fulani. "Jam" mom and aunty larai answered "how was your night?" mom went on. "Great, Alhamdulillah" I replied. " Have you taken your breakfast yet?" Asked aunty larai. "No, we'll do that in aunty hajjo's house". I replied "Well then, I hope so" mom said. She knew I never liked the idea of having breakfast as early as ten in the morning, I preferred brunch. I heard footsteps, and I know it was none other than Amal. She's so into the fashion world. And I bet she's on a high hilled shoe. This girl freaks me sometimes. She hugged our mom and blew her kisses on both cheeks. "How is the sweetest mom in the whole universe doing?" She asked, as she sat beside mom on the couch. "Am good, Alhamdulillah my princess. I can see you are all ready". "Yes mom. How do I look?" Amal said, swaying from one side to the other admiring herself. She was dressed in a plain black dress with a golden belt and a bronze veil. Owwww, she's just so cute. But not as cute as I was, I must confess. "My princess is always beautiful". I drove silently, with only maher zain's song "Hold my hand" blaring. I wouldn't want to engage myself in a discussion with amal about that so called hogwash called my fiancée. I would have just ended up ruining my beautiful face. How silly. I parked the car in front of a beautiful bungalow. Just as we were about to Alight the car,my phone rang!. "You son of a b***h!" I said, gritting my teeth together in anger as I saw the caller. It was Nabeel!. "Yaa Nabeel i guess?" Amal said, raising one of her carefully carved brow. "Of course yes. That fool!" I said again before picking up the call. "Salaamu alaikoom" I said, more like a whisper "Wa alaikumus salaam" he answered back. O Allah! He has the deepest voice ever. Well I kinda like it. Giggling. "Good morning" I greated him "Spare me your greetings husnah. Am not in the mood. Dad told me to come see you. I'll be in aunty hajjo's house in few minutes. Be there before me. I can't wait". And he ended the call WTF! What just happened? Yaa Allah! I hated this guy, was this the taciturn, condescending and uncouth bloke I was going to spend the rest of my humdrum life with?

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