From Aliya to Hafiz

Seventeen.

Aliya.

Sitting down on the ground, even if it was covered with soft matting and fur, made my behind numb. My glutes might as well be as flat as my sense of humour.

Surrounding me were the ladies of the family, all with hands painted red or black or both. For the last two hours, I was being schooled on obedience towards one's spouse.

Cringe.

From wifely expectations and duties to how to handle them on our periods, because let's be honest when it was that time of the month, it was harder to flip a switch than it was to tick us off.

Apparently, husbands were extremely annoying when on our periods. Every single thing they did would just be giving 'whack them to death.'

"For you, submissiveness is expected in everything," Nana said. Fadila, who sat beside me made a 'kill me' expression, making me snicker lowly.

"If the both of you were to sit down and discuss any issue, he should be the one at fault nine out of ten of the time. It's okay for him to wrong you, but you can't wrong him," Didi continued.

The smile on my face became strained.

I was just itching to have a go at her with that...that...that bombaclast nonsense... seriously.

"Do you know why? Because when it's always his fault, he'll feel guilty towards you and treat you better. He'll see your good points and adjust in kind."

"I'm pretty sure she's talking about guys from her generation. It can never be Gen Z," Karima whispered and I nodded.

Feel guilty? More like feeling entitled. A man spoiled like that would be a nightmare.

The talk dragged on and on until my ears almost fell off. When I felt like I had heard enough and that my henna was done, I scrammed to the tap behind the garden to wash it, with Karima and Fadila following suit.

On our way back, Karima sighed.

"Problem?" I asked.

"You're getting married," she said.

"I'm aware."

"Tomorrow."

"I'm also aware."

I didn't think deeply about how that made me feel. I would lose my mind else.

"You're younger than me."

"Oh for God's sake! She's just put off because you're getting married and you're like, four years younger than her," Fadila explained.

"What's wrong with that?" I asked, confused.

"You're kidding, right?" Karima stared at me, unimpressed. "Do you know how women are ostracized for not getting married early?"

I replied. "You're twenty-three, you're not old. There's nothing wrong with that."

"Tell that to our dad's family. Wallah they're so annoying!" Fadila scowled.

I stopped, the kumbo spread was some feet away, just enough distance for us to be seen but not heard.

"Is someone bothering you? Does Yapendo know?"

"She knows, but you know how they are. She keeps telling her to ignore it but even I can't stand it! They keep calling her leftovers and old husk, it's so—"

"Fadila!"

"I'm sorry Adda but I have to say it!"

"Karima, I think you should talk to Auntie about this," I asserted. This went beyond mockery, it was pure emotional abuse.