Chapter Four

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Today started like a dream for him. He'd gone to the mosque for the fajr prayers and returned, his mother didn't mention one word about the wedding today.

He was ready to believe everything had been a dream until Indo knocked on his door like she was ready to pull it down and trust some clothes into his arms.

Looking at them, he admired his mother dearest who had gone through all lengths to e sure the wedding went smoothly, to the extent of sewing clothes for him as though she feared he would refuse to get married with the excuse of not having good enough clothes.d

As he adjusted the cap on his head, Ahmadu could hardly believe it was his wedding day. He remembered his first and only meeting with his supposed bride and felt, if truth be told she was indeed beautiful.

When she bent her head in shyness, part of her covering opened a bit and he could see her hair. Even with the far light the moon and the dim lantern provided, he could see how black it was and when she stretched her two hands, he noticed and long and slender the fingers were and how soft the palms looked despite the fact she was a worker as the other local women were and that was the reason he suddenly grabbed her hands startling her and himself as well.

Even as he walked home that night, his fingers tingled and itched him. It was his first time anyways, holding a woman that wasn't his patient.

Ahmadu closed his eyes and exhaled loudly as he heard the Liman start the khutbah, the normal lectures and reminder always given every Friday before the time for prayers.

This day's khutbah was on marriage and its responsibilities, then on the rights of the husband over the wife and that of the wife over the husband and he felt the Liman specially decided to do it for his sake.

It was still a bit hard to believe. Just a few days ago, he was a bachelor with all the freedom in the world but today, he would become responsible for someone. The thought scared him a lot.

Remembering his conversation with the old man, his heart felt a bit lighter from the heavy dose of nervousness it pumped all through his body.

He had gone to complain, very early the same evening the old man arrived from his journey. He was desperate that time, eager to convince his mother to call of her idea of getting him married.

"A'a it is the educated doctor who has come to see me. Welcome welcome. Zauna dai Dan Allah. Zauna dan boko"

The liman had bubbled in happiness when he saw him and smiled widely that the wrinkles on his face straightened a bit.

Ahmadu forced a smile and sat down on the mat and extended his hand for the expected way of greeting, that is the salam to each other.

He also sipped the nono in the calabash and ate a mouthful of dambu to show politeness. It is unheard of, in Kurmi to refuse an invitation to a meal and even if you were not hungry and filled to the neck, you are expected to show courtesy and politeness by having a taste of the food.

The two men sat in silence for a while and finally, the old man spoke.

"Why does your face look so down Dan boko? Is anything the matter? Is your mother not well?"

The Liman noticed that he didn't have his usual cheerfulness, neither did he involve him in talking as he normally did but remained quiet with a worried emotion on his face. He knew something was wrong so he kept quiet and waited for the young man to speak first.

Ahmadu inhaled deeply then spoke as always, in the calm and low manner.

"Tabbas it is my mother. But rest assured, she is not sick and nothing is the matter. Its just that, she has come to me with a highly disturbing issue and I have come to you for help. I know my mother listens to you, you are like a grandfather to me and a father to her so if you intercede on my behalf, she will surely listen to you"

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