RUWAIDA ✔️

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

"Yes, I'll eat later," Ruwaida managed a warm smile as her Grandaunt tried forcing her to eat the nice looking white rice and stew. But sincerely speaking, she couldn't even hold a cup with her hands without them trembling and maybe get spilled. She watched as Rabi smiled back and sauntered out the spacious room, into the corridor, where most of the kids were, playing while some enjoyed having varieties of dishes to attend to.

She ducked her head down as the three women beside her converse vaguely in Hausa, amidst their joyous laughter, she couldn't help but smile too, not too perceptible, just enough to make the girl sitting beside her to smile too. Raliya passed her the plate of Dumblan, hoping she'll take a bite. "No Raliya, you have it okay," the girl nodded, looking pretty in her gown sewn from the uniform Ankara all the females had worn.

Some few weeks back, her kayan lefe were brought and then, Dr Muhammad's family suggested a wedding within the month, but her father had given thoughtful reasons why it should be in the beginning of the next month. And so it happened, in some few hours, Ruwaida would be tide to her best friend's brother.

Muhammad had really done so much after their engagement. As if jinxed, he'll be present or somewhere lurking around their compound, waiting patiently and unknowingly for her to finish watching him, and then later on, go out to meet him, as if it was only then she knew of his presence.

But even with all his caring attitude towards her and her family, that insecurity that circles her had refused to leave, she still feels unworthy of such attention. But what could she have done? Absolutely nothing regardless. So many times has she tried to just forget and let her heart go on with the flow of it all, but, she just couldn't. She has leukemia, and acting oblivious wouldn't change that.

She's come to learn that eventually...

She slowly raised her hands to her view and smiled again, the henna looked deep red and attractive, while her nails had been perfectly shaped ovally. She felt like crying when the reason for all the attention and the adornment receded in her mind. She hated the sunken feeling deep within her, and not to mention the unusual beating of her heart.

She heard as the chattering in the compound of her grandparent's increased, and a familiar voice echoed as the person tried to yodel, but failed miserably, but nevertheless, had the other women joining in as well. Her eardrums  rang harshly from the sound, making her abruptly close her eyes.

"Ina Amaryammu! (Where's our bride)," Zarah walked in to the room, and suddenly instead of the smell of the incense bakhoors, her expensive perfume enveloped the abode, and the people inside, unconsciously turned to look at her. "Ina wuninku," she flashed a wide smile at the women.

"Ina wuni? Sannu! Maraba da zuwa," The fat one replied merrily, and the rest followed suit.

"Amarya baa magana? (Our bride, won't you say anything)," the women joined her and hooted loudly, now, everyone's attention back to Ruwaida. She placed her bag and the other shopping bags she held on the bed beside Ruwaida and finally sat down. "I'm so sorry I came late, had to watch three YouTube videos before I got my headtie in place," Ruwaida slightly looked up, watching as Zarah jiggled her head as she showed the nice looking turban she'd made.

"You look beautiful, MashaAllah," Ruwaida whispered, and that very truthfully.

"Aww, says the bride that looks like a model even without wearing make up," Zarah moved and turned to look around the room, then instantly turned back to face Ruwaida. "Where's the make up artist? and the henna artist? Isn't she supposed to get it washed already? Just look how red it looks," Ruwaida huffed, wondering why Zarah loves being bossy.

"The henna artist just went out, I think some ladies wanted it too," Ruwaida replied.

"Fine! What about the makeup artist? Is she here yet? The wedding is in three hours for Allah's sake!," Zarah stood up and called someone on her phone. "Yallah! She'll be hear soon, you need to get dressed, I'm sure you haven't called any makeup artist have you,"

"No," Ruwaida shook her head, feeling a tad bit embarrassed. She pulled Zarah's hand to drag her attention, and when she finally looked at her, she sighed and then spoke. "It's really not necessary, you've already done so much for me and...,"

"This make up is happening," Zarah deadpanned, leaving absolutely no room for arguments. Ruwaida looked away and focused on how she'll look in a fitted gown. After getting the dress from the tailor, she fell into a hot argument with Aunty Hadiza, mostly because she'd said no to wearing the gown. And unfortunately for her, Aunty Hadiza had managed to talk her to, as she always does.

The henna artist finally came back, this time with her, a large bowl filled with water and she used it to wash off the henna paste from Ruwaida's hands and legs.

whilst it, Zarah bent lowly to Ruwaida's ear and whispered. "I heard somewhere that the groom's love is represented in the redness of the lalle, I see yours is already maroon," Ruwaida turned, glared at her and ignored as Zarah laughed. That to her was wholly not funny, not in any way! "He also looked as dashing you know, I hope you wouldn't pass out when you finally see him," Ruwaida's eyes went wide open, she looked intensely uncomfortable and she coughed, feeling like her heart will come off.

"I'm already nervous, you're not helping me here...," Ruwaida looked briefly at Zarah, who only shrugged, with a mischievous grin. She completely and wholeheartedly loved the reactions she's receiving from Ruwaida.

Shortly afterwards, Ruwaida got dressed, had a nude touch on her face and finally sat, getting all sorts of teasings from her cousins, and her overdramatic best friend. And she suddenly started to wonder why Zarah had being pressing her phone for much longer than she does. She's not a type to just sit for minutes without saying anything.

Ruwaida nudged Zarah slightly on her arm. "Who are you texting," Ruwaida bit on her lip as she tried to peep at Zarah's phone, but she was fast to click on the home button. "Huh?,"

Zarah sighed and placed the phone on her lap. "I don't think we should talk about this right now, it's your wedding, no dulling things," Zarah's miserable attempt to hide her sadness didn't go unnoticed, and Ruwaida gave her a blank stare, hoping she's not hiding things from her.she wouldn't actually like to know every single thing that goes on in Zarah's life, but at least, she'll feel bad if Zarah wouldn't share her problems with her. Isn't that what best friend do? Confide in each other whenever there's trouble?

"Zarah,"

"Fine," she huffed loudly and continued. "It's this guy, I...,"

"Zarah? You're dating someone? And I'm knowing it now," Ruwaida queried breathlessly.

"No! I'm not even dating him, he doesn't even know who I am, like...he knows me, but he doesn't know I'm the one texting him,"

"What," Ruwaida sounded confused and at the same time shocked. She couldn't tell a word from what Zarah had said. "What are you saying,"

"It's Dr Abdullah, that's who I was texting," Before Zarah could explain anymore, they heard another set of yodeling as people starting  screaming 'an daura' and that was it for Ruwaida. Because the moment she looked away from Zarah, the water works began. She had never cried that much in her life. And soon she understood why most women cry on their wedding day.

Love_
SilentWriter 🦋