Our Fates: Book III of the Fate Trilogy

One: Meena Lawal: Something Else Is Aunt Iftar

Note: As this is a first draft, errors shall abound. So do bear with me.😋

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"Alhamdulillah, finally." I moan as I open the car door.

"Finally, indeed." Badr says from the front seat before climbing out toward the booth.

I hiss slightly, then stand. But my legs are as heavy as the yam tubers we brought on the way, and my back aches like crazy. I can't walk like this sha. I decide and plop down on the seat, still holding the car door open, legs out on the tarred pavement.

"Ahn ahn, zawjati, what's up na?" Badr asks, standing before me, two bags in his hands and a glint in his eyes.

The big head is mocking me.

I hiss loudly. "Better drop those bags and come and carry me." I eye him.

Badr gapes at me, then exchanges a look with someone at the driver's side. His cousin, Mutallab. "Akhi, see me o."

"You heard the lady, go and drop them." He says, appearing from my window.

" Subhanallah! Even you?!" Badr accuses.

"Yallah, akhi!" Mutallab claps, jingling his car keys."

Badr shakes his head and ambles toward the two-storey building shielded by a black gate: our new home, chosen by fate.

Six days ago

"Barak Allahu lakuma wa Baraka alaikuma hmmm hmmm..." Kauthar sang as she danced into the room. I looked up, squinting through the purple net lace covering my face. Before I could speak, she jumped beside me on the bed, "Congrats, amaryan Malam Badaru."

I smiled. It had happened. I was really Badr's wife now. Alhamdulillah.

Just then, another string of sound erupted. The door opened, Ummi came in, followed by three other women, all singing a Yoruba song I had never heard before, but liked instantly.

They sat on the bed, congratulating and showering prayers on me. Looking down, I whispered ameen.

"Make way. Make way." A young female voice sang. I looked up and rolled my eyes. It was Bushra in her orange embroidered gown with someone towering behind her.

"Ah, welcome." Ummi greeted.

Her smile as white as the lace she was wearing, Ummu Badr, Mrs Maimuna Kamarudeen nodded in reply.

Kauthar quickly scooted off the bed so my mother-in-law could sit beside me. I looked down, swallowing my nervousness. Since she arrived over a week ago, we hadn't sat this close before. And it was completely my fault. Honestly, I was just shy. Judge me all you want, but I couldn't understand why, which was funny because she had been trying to sit alone with me, but I kept dodging. What would we talk about? Badr? Me? Us?

But now, as we smiled at each other, I wondered what all the fuss was for. She looked utterly harmless.

"Welcome to the family, dear." She said, her light voice just right for her youthful face. Without a word, I hugged her. And it felt just right: Home. Alhamdulillah.

Present

When Badr returns, I am already out of the car, leaning against the door, eyes and fingers on my phone.

"Okay o," Badr says, lifting his kaftan and drawing up his trousers. I pause the message I'm sending to our family WhatsApp group and stare at him, eyebrows raised.