Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
ABUJA, NIGERIA
The night Whispers flies away, and it's morning already. The sun is shining radiantly, making the light seep through the window, casting a dazzling hue in the room. Today, another journey is going to be taken.
Afreen hesitantly woke up from sleep, dreading the impending ceremony that was going to take place today. She turned her body in anticipation to see Anwaar, but his side was empty. Her forehead creased in worry, and questions started to pop up in her head. Where was Anwaar? Why didn't he wake her up? At the thought of that, she picked up her phone, which was on the bedside table, and checked the time. 10:05 am.
Shit! I am screwed.
She peely off the blanket from her body, then stood up from the bed, immediately going to pick up the hijab that Anwaar's sister brought last night. She felt apprehensive wearing Anwaar's clothing, which o a plain black Balenciaga shirt and oversized sweatpants.
"Is this how newlywed brides dress on their wedding night? Surely not," she answered back.
A knock came through the door, and her body shot up in fear, wondering who it was at the door. She walked to the door nevertheless and opened it, which Anwaar had already left open after going out.
She unexpectedly came in contact with Aisha and Zarah, and her mouth opened in shock, clearly taken aback early in the morning. She regained her composure and ushers them into the house, then gave each of them a hug. She missed them.
"What are you guys doing here?" She asked after closing the door.
"What? Aren't you happy to see us here?" Aisha asked back.
"I don't mean it that way. I thought after last night you guys weren't going to come back again, but I am happy to see you guys," she said, smiling.
"Actually, yes. But Anwaar called us in the morning and asked us to come help you get dressed," Zarah replied.
Her eyes softened, and a smile grazed her lips. What did she do to deserve this man?
Zarah, with her small experience in makeup, dolled up Afreen's face in a simple nude makeup, and it turned out good. She added a touch of mint green eyeshadow to her eyes to match it with the laffaya which her mother-in-law sent to her earlier through Sabeeha and her darling Laila.
By noon, she was fully dressed in a well-tailored skirt and blouse, and on top was the professionally tied laffaya, courtesy of Zarah, who was a descendant of the Kanuri group.
The laffaya bestowed upon Afreen by her mother-in-law was a work of art and culture. Its deep colors, intricate designs, and rich symbolism told a story that transcended its mere fabric. This particular laffaya was a masterpiece of the Kanuri tradition, known for its elegance and timeless beauty. Its predominant color was a regal shade of deep maroon, adorned with meticulously embroidered golden patterns that flowed like delicate streams of sunlight. The fabric felt luxurious against her skin, and the intricate details added a touch of grace to the entire ensemble. When she draped it over her slender frame, the laffaya accentuated her elegance, fitting her like a bespoke piece of art. With every fold and drape, it exuded a sense of regal charm that perfectly complemented the significance of the occasion.
