Twenty eight days to the wedding.
"Isn't twenty thousand too much?" I study the abalone grey curtain on my window, it's just after subh.
"You'll need money to buy you and Humairah a few clothes and shoes, after sewing the hijabs, get those. I'm sorry it's not much more. I can't transfer so much in a day." Before sending her money, I'd sent out monies for orders we are supposed to receive this morning.
She hisses and makes a tutu sound with her tongue "Ya Affy, you give us so much already. I still have some money from the last time you sent us money. May Allah replenish your pocket abundantly and beyond measure." I mutter an Amen.
"So, how do you want the hijabs to be, khimaar?" I smile at her uncertain voice. She's afraid that she has offended me with the way she reacted earlier. She is one teenager who has seen rough times.
"Yes, I want them in that stretchy jersey material. In pink, black and neon blue. Those three and chiffon scarves about three."
"Plain colours? For the chiffon I mean?" I answer in affirmative and end the call after a few more pleasantries. A nightmare woke me this morning, today is one of those days, it hurts so much that even though I'm hoping to walk away from the pain and suffering that Husband number one caused me, I'm still having nightmares of the wicked things he put me through.
Everyday, I try as much as possible to forget that part of my life and make it easy for me to open a new chapter in a few weeks. Maybe, I wasn't just meant to move on. Maybe, somehow it was my fault. Maybe somehow, I caused it. I lay back in my bed, pull my covers to my chin and try to sleep.
A car drives into my father's compound a few minutes after my call to Safiyya and I get out bed to take a look. The headlights are bright and a reflection comes into my room from my window overlooking the front yard. It's a Camry and the driver takes things out of the boot. I'm not expecting anything this early and especially not in my father's house.
I hear the front door open and close and my mother's voice exchanging pleasantries with a woman's voice. Who could that be?
A few minutes later, footsteps sound near my door and finally stop in front of it. I count to five in my head. Then the knock sounds. I peep before opening up and scream
"Auntie Safaa!!!" I pull the shorter woman into my arms and hug her tightly, she hugs me back and pats my back fondly with her meaty hands. I pull out of the hug to pat her beautiful, youthful face.
She's one of the best Gyaryan jiki ladies I know and worked with. She's one of the best in the business. I pull her into my room and shut the door.
"Aunty Safaa, I saw you last week and you didn't say anything about being contracted by my mother. I even grumbled. You sure know how to keep a surprise." She smiles and pulls me to my bed. She sits angled towards me and looks up at my face.
"Who is he?" I smile and pat her hand. Her face is pulled in a worried frown.
"Adeel Baba Hassan. They say he's a good man." She glares at me and a smile finds it way to my face.
"That was how your mother made me reassure you the other time, look how that turned out. Look what he did to you. I haven't talked properly to you since you got divorced because of the shame and guilt I carry around." I put my hand around her back but she shrugs my hand off softly. Guilt flashes through her eyes again and my heart pulls in pain. That brute caused all this pain for this poor woman.
"Nabeela, I helped persuade you. I helped talk to you when you were marrying that bastard." A tear runs down her light skin and she furiously wipes it away.
I finally pull her into my arms and ask myself 'Who needs comfort more?' When I was marrying Husband number one, she begged me to listen to my parents as they would never make me a wrong choice. I know that half the guilt she's carrying around is due to my actions after my marriage crashed.
I pull her out if my arms and change the subject.
"Auntie, you don't have to come this early anymore. I'll push my schedule to begin from nine in the morning from now on." She nods and begins to bring out her equipment. I know that her heart is still heavy, I'll talk about this with her some other day before the wedding.
"See how lumpy your hair looks, didn't they teach you in your high and mighty makeup classes to take care of your hair too." She pulls at my hair as she adds a mixture to it.
"I don't have time for my hair. It's too much work—ouch!. Haba, auntie Safaa. Fear Allah now. I'll have a headache with the way you are pulling at my poor hair." She pulls at it a bit more and taps my left shoulder to let me up on my feet. I stand up and walk to a hidden drawer in my vanity table to remove a slip. I pull the polyester slip over my head and head to the bathroom.
"what will I be scenting this time?" I scented of citrus the last time.
"Lavender." I walk into the bathroom and turned on hot water. I stepped back into my room to take the soap she gave to me.
"Tomorrow morning, we will rub dilka all over your body. So get mentally prepared. I know how much you hate dilka." I groan as I walk back into the shower. Dilka is one painful part of gyran jiki.
"Wash your hair properly, scrub it well. If you don't want me to come and do it for you." Her loud voice carries into the shower, I laugh out loud and soap from my hair enters my mouth.
Doomsday seems so close already. Too close, twenty eight days is just a facade for a few hours.
******
Hi guys,
Thank you all for voting and commenting, I was such a happy person when I woke up to 800 votes. God bless all of you.
This chapter is for emerald_247. She sent me this voice note that made me sleep a happy girl. Thank you darling.
See y'all on Friday night. Stay blessed
TheOmoope
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ChickLitNabeela has never had life easy, never ever. She is at her wits end. Love and living life has never been her known forte. But, what will she do when she gets tangled in a web of deceit and lies woven by her parents? What happens when the very ones...
