Finding Mufeeda

'Amarya mu'👰🌹💖

Dear readers,
I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
What do you think about the story. Who is your favourite character? Tell me.🙏🧡

Chapter Fifteen

It was a cool Wednesday morning in December. The harmattan haze was getting worse daily. Mustafa looked through his bedroom window to see what the visibility level looked like. He saw his wife tending to the herbs and flowers. She had transformed their veranda, with lovely plants hanging from the walls, a variety of cacti growing in pots, sunflowers and carnations in wooden boxes. He could still remember the details of how they met six months ago. It had been love at first sight for him and it hadn't been difficult for him to decide she was the woman he wanted to spend forever with.
He could also recollect how he had been drawn by her eyes. Within those big brown eyes he'd seen a warm and caring soul that yearned to be cherished. 'Mufeeda...' he said her name softly as he continued to reminisce.
Mufeeda, the woman who captured his heart and held on tight.
He remembered his delight when Hajjaju called him to announce her readiness to accept Mufeeda into the family. Mama Jamila had apparently been providing his mum and sisters detailed reports live from 'Taruwa.' He had discovered with pleasure that Mama Jamila had been Hajjaju's reliable informant all along. His mother had heard many good things about her prospective daughter in law all thanks to the Baba Kazeems.
Mustafa had earlier been uncertain about his mother allowing him marry someone from the South of the country. Instead it was his uncle who had kicked against it vehemently. Alhaji Ado changed his tune the moment he learnt that his prospective father in-law was the DG of NASSRED. It amused him how easily people forget the tribe, tongue and even religion of influential personalities. Alhaji Ado personally apologised to him for his attitude towards Mufeeda.
As for Hajjaju, she had only a few humbling questions to ask him.

"Do you love and respect her?"

To this he had said "Wallahi, sosai ma kuwa Hajjaju, with all of my heart.

Hajjaju kept a straight face and serious disposition, Mustafa felt she looked every bit like the granddaughter of a Fulani warrior.

"Are you prepared to bear with her like she will have to bear with you?"

He had not expected that question, yes it had occurred to him there will be good times and bad times, but he had never given it much thought.
He had looked at his mother as he answered, "I am Insha Allah. I'll try never to disrespect her and ensure I'll make sure I don't trample on her rights even when she's wrong."

"Gaskiya, Captain, ka girma. May Allah bless you and bless your union."

His sisters had wanted the marriage Nikah conducted almost immediately they met her. Amaryamu became the name they fondly called her.
Their wedding reception was held within the garden of her father's residence. Mufeeda had looked like a dream in her beautiful mauve and cream dress and a lacy cream veil. The dress had been exquisitely made for her by Zuhair Murad of www.zuhairmurad.com a popular Lebanese designer as requested by her mother.
She had looked breathtakingly beautiful and stunning and he could hardly take his eyes of her.

It was only in her fantasies that she had ever been this blissfully happy. Mufeeda was aware that her new found joy started when Mustafa came into her life. He had shown her how to love and be loved unconditionally. She used to dread emotional attachments but had fallen in love with the handsome Hausa-Fulani man so easily and naturally. She smiled to the flowers as she watered them.
Their wedding had been a grand occasion with her mother and Aunty Hidaya in attendance. Mama her guardian and Mama Jamila had helped Madam Nour to organise quite an elaborate event. Mustafa wore a cream coloured native babanriga embroidered in mauve and gold threads. He was indeed an handsome groom as her mother had described him. Zainab and Saudat were her bridesmaids. Amongst the grooms men was the Amir and some
of the brothers from the Islamic Centre. Mufeeda knew she would always cherish the memory of the moment when her handsome and elegant groom lifted her veil. She had seen his eyes glisten with tears of happiness and the tenderness in them had made her blush. He had given her his characteristic wink and whispered 'I love you' in her ear. She saw him look at the necklace she wore, it was the English gold necklace with the M&M pendant.
"Is the Mrs. day dreaming?" she heard his voice from behind her. She turned slightly only to find herself in his arms.
'Is the captain tiptoeing?' she retorted teasingly as she playfully hit his chest.
'What was on your mind my love?' he asked leading her towards the gate.
"hmmmm it's a secret..." she said pretending to be thinking about it.
"No secrets, your mum advised."
They both smiled remembering how their mothers had admonished them about living together in harmony.
"Where are we going to?" she asked as he led her out of the compound.
"For a walk to somewhere special"
He pointed towards the hill top, the one that was her favourite viewing spot.
"We need to visit where it all started."
"Yes of course," she replied as she entwined her fingers with his, leaning softly against his shoulder.
"I love you Al-Mustafa Bature she said squeezing his hands tenderly.
"I love you more Mufeeda Abdulmumin."
They walked on at peace with what they both shared.

The end.