Jamilah Abubakar is a beautiful Nigerian Muslim. Fate seems to smile on her as she is selected by the President; An arranged marriage for his only son. All's well until the job she's meant to do conflicts with what she really wants. Join her as she...
It was 2 weeks after I got my rings and Ali and I had been spending so much time together. We had been on two official dates this week and the country was loving us. I felt a little bad but generally very happy.
A week after, Ali had posted on his social media about the engagement without including my name or my photo.
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With the simple caption; "My completeness." The morning after his post, Hauwa was bent on waking me with her incessant phone calls. She was the one who informed me that Ali had posted the engagement. And also why had I not sent her the photos?
And so I had sent her the photos of the ring and then the President got on my case as well. Why did Ali not post a photo of both of us? Why did I not ensure we had engagement photos? And so I called Ali and told him I wanted engagement photos.
But not before I made my own post of the same photo with the caption, Allah bless our union.
If people liked me before, they loved me now. It seemed everybody loves love. I got random gifts from random people, fan art for myself and Ali. Invites as a couple to every occasion
Ali sometimes teased me when random people would pass by us and wave shyly. We gave a few more interviews before Ali mentioned to me that our relationship was ours and not a publicity stunt. I agreed with that line and told the President so, when he complained about the statement we released that we would like a bit of privacy at this special moment of our lives. I explained to him that any other thing, being too much publicity would be too much for us and the image he was trying to build. He happened to appreciate what I said.
The wedding planners had been working for months already and when Ali asked me what I wanted for the wedding, I told him I'd let my father and his father take charge since we knew it was going to be more of a high society event. The guest list was theirs and I was adding my past schoolmates and colleagues. Ali was adding his own friends as well. He confessed to me that it felt like they were the ones getting married and we were just at the forefront. I smiled then, he didn't even know how political this was. Everything from the caterers to the music the venue was done by them. I only chose my gowns.
I was grateful in a way because I didn't want to get stressed by the planning at all. So I let others handle it. I wished I could skip it entirely and wake up already married or do something really really small and quiet. But of course I knew what was possible and what wasn't.
My phone beeped and I checked to see a message from Ali;
"I can't wait for us to finally be together."
I couldn't help thinking, after we get married wouldn't it be worse? I'd have to keep a secret from my husband, coerce him to do things he may not want to do because there's a bigger plan? If I went ahead with the wedding, won't he think worse of me? I'd be that woman who deceived him into marrying her, all the while plotting. The woman who he thought he was in love with but eventually turned out to be cold and conniving. Everything we shared would be a lie, everything would seem staged. But then again, wasn't it?
