HUSNA

Chapter45

"Experts on romance say for a happy marriage there has to be more than a passionate love. For a lasting union, they insist, there must be a genuine liking for each other. Which, in my book, is a good definition for friendship." – Marilyn Monroe

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THE DAY HAS COME

The day had finally arrived.

The biggest day of her life had dawned, and the house was alive with noise  doors opening, footsteps rushing, aunties shouting instructions, cousins peeking in and out. In the middle of all the commotion, she sat still, struggling to process the truth:

In a few hours... she would belong to someone else.
Not under her parents anymore.

Someone's wife.

Her heart tightened. The excitement of finally marrying Hameed warred with the ache of leaving home. Every time her aunts joked  Kin zama amarya yanzu, shameless girl!" she only smiled, hiding the heaviness in her chest.

She had spent the last few nights praying alone in the corner of her room, whispering her fears to Allah guide me... make it easy... make it sweet... don't let this happiness turn into regret.

Would he take care of her? Would she adjust to her new home? Would she be a good wife? Questions circled her mind like a storm until

"Husna! What on earth are you thinking?"

Faiza's voice snapped her back to reality.

She blinked, looked up.

She sat on the stainless stool facing the mirror, watching the makeup artist bring her face to life lashes curled, cheeks softly blushed, lips tinted the perfect shade. Then she changed into her maroon lace blouse and skirt embroidered with gold flowers. The gele was tied with precision; gold earrings dangled against her neck, the necklace resting perfectly on her collarbone. Henna swirled elegantly over her hands and legs.

She drew a slow breath. "Masha Allah..." she whispered to her own reflection.

Faiza  glowing in her pink stoned atamfa stared at her through the mirror.

"Do you see yourself?" Faiza grinned. "Hameed will be speechless. Wallahi he'll think they switched brides. He'll start asking: Is this really my Husna?"
For the first time, Husna laughed with her whole chest.

"I'm nervous... and I just want the hours to finish already," she confessed, her fingers trembling.

"Relax," Faiza coaxed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "Abdul and Muhammad are already at the mosque. They'll call as soon as it's done. Any moment now... your husband may even call. It's past 1 already."

Almost on cue, Faiza's phone rang.

She put it on speaker.

"Muhammad is calling. I'm sure it's time."

"Is it done?" Faiza asked quickly.

"Almost," Muhammad replied  and then, in the background, they heard the imam's voice.

"An daura auren Abdulhameed Aliyu Danbatta da Amaryar sa Asma'u Abdulhamid, wakili akan sadaki dubu dari Uku... Allah ya basu zaman lafiya da zuri'a dayiba."