Our Fates: Book III of the Fate Trilogy

Five: I Won't Be A Divorcee For Long

"Sannu, uwata,” Baba greets as I join him and mama in their bedroom, which just shows how much of a trouble I am in.

I slink on the carpet beside mama’s folded out legs. Quickly, she places her hand on mine then removes it. I frown. I need more comfort than that.

“Ke!” Baba’s voice startles me. He points to the spot directly across from him. I scrunch my face, grip Mama’s hand for the last time, and move to the spot, head down.

Baba’s beaded eyes scan me from head to toe, disapproval, as always, at the corner of his lips. He folds his arms, "me ya faru?”

I fold my lips, trying to arrange what to say, and say it in a way that will make me look like a victim. "Baba,” I yank at my fingers, "wallahi, Adda Rabi ce.”

“Tayi me? Ta kama ki duka?” Baba asks, leaning forward.

I pause, what am I to say to that? Of course, despite Adda Rabi’s petty shenanigans, she has never raised a hand on me. But she has provoked me many times. Still, that isn't enough proof on my side. But I know Baba. If I remain quiet long enough, he will let it go.

“Ina jin ki fa.” Baba says.

I squint. It seems I have his full attention today. So I opt for my next tactic. I burst into tears, "wallahi, baba, shaidanne.”

I raise my head to catch his smile. He knows of my long relationship with the devil. So he’s not surprised.

I sit up and rub my hands, "kayi hakuri.” I beg him.

Mama sighs, and I know what it means.

“Ae, mai gida, you know how Aisha is with her temper.”

I gape at her. What? She catches my eyes and clears her throat. "what I mean is—” Baba raises his hand to silence her.

“Yes, Fauziyyah, I know what you mean.” He says, eyeing her. "what you mean is that you and your daughter will never change.” He points at me. "No matter what she does, you will always take her side. Shikenan ai.” He turns to me, "since you’ve decided to cause trouble wherever you go, you're welcome to stay here as my second wife. Is that not right, Fauziyyah?”

Mama ducks her head.

“Dama,” I say, grabbing his attention, "I’m planning to get married again.” My parents gape at me, but I continue, "since I’m almost done with my iddah.”

“Bu—” Mama begins to say but Baba stops her, nodding for to go on, just like I expected.

“So I won't be here for long, in sha Allah.”

"Where do you plan to get a husband? Here?” Mama asks, pointing to the ground of our little community.

But I know what she means to say is where will I get a rich husband?

“I want to go to Azare,” I inform them, "to Shema’s place. I can even help her with her clothing business.” I shrug, not mentioning that I’m yet to inform Shema herself. But there's no need. My cousin has always adored me. I would be doing her a huge favour.

Baba laughs. Mama frowns some more. I glance at her, blinking. What is it?

“Didn’t you tell her?” He asks mama.

She sighs, "When last did you speak to Shema’u?”

I frown. A long time ago. She used to chat me up on WhatsApp. Sometimes I answer, other times I snob her. It was nothing personal, just my mood. "Me ya faru? Is she dead?” I ask, placing my hands on my chest for good measure.

Baba eyes me. Mama sighs, "her husband passed away last year so she moved back to Jigawa.”

Oh. "Allah ya jikan shi.”

“Ameen.” She replies.

This puts a huge dent on my plan. I had no one else in Azare that would take me in and allow me do what I want.

“Or will you follow her to Jigawa instead?” Baba asks mockingly.

My phone rings so I’m spared from answering him. It's aunty Lami, I smile, "Hello?” We exchange greetings, and she hands the phone over to my boys. Tears prick my eyes as I hear their voices.

“We miss you.” My eldest son says.

“When are you coming back?” My second asks.

My breath hitches. I don't want to.

“That’s enough, it's time for Islamiyah. Say bye bye, mommy.”

“Bye bye mommy.” My four angels chorus.

“But seriously, aunty A’i, you will need to come to Kano.”

“I don't have a place to keep them yet.”

"No, I don't mean the boys. Yaya Habib is taking care of them. It's about your things in the house.”

Oh. I haven't even thought of them, my new clothes especially. Just then, a new idea brewed.

“Okay, help me pack them and send them here.”

“What of the furniture and dining chairs?”

I shut my eyes. I have a fortune in that house. How did I forget that? "Okay, sell the furniture and dining chairs, then use part of the money to send the remaining things here.”

“Okay, better. But you will give me my cut ko?”

I smile, "of course, don't worry. Thank you.”

“No problem. Take care of yourself.”

I nod and end the call. Looking up, Baba has left, only mama is seated, staring intently at me, "is that not Lami?” she asks.

I nod. "So why are you calling her aunty?”

“She’s older than me.”

“And so?” Is Habib not her elder brother?

I shrug and move closer to her. As I place my hand on her hijab-clad thigh, she flings it, glaring at me. "What are you telling your father about marriage? Are you not tired of men?”

I gape at her, "you of all people know how widows are treated in our place.”

“And so? You're still young. So men will definitely come knocking. But for you to openly say that you want to remarry, you will look desperate. I’m sure your father will go and gloat to Rabi’s mother now.”

I smile, placing my head on her lap, "kar ki damu, daidai nake da su. Once aunty Lami sends my things, I’m going to sell some and get an apartment in Azare.”

“What of work?” 

I frown at her, "not now. I want to rest.”

“Toh, then how will you get money to pay rent and take care of yourself?”

I smile, "like you said, men will come knocking. I just have to be where they will see me.”

Mama smiles, but there's worry in her eyes. "But I will prefer you have a job at least so you can be fully independent.”

I stare at my mother. "I don't want to be independent, mama. I want to enjoy my life, show Habib that he hasn't broken me.”

Mama opens her mouth to say something, but I interrupt, "did I mention the gold necklace I bought from Shahzad’s?”

Her eyes widen at that and she shakes her head. I smile in victory and pat her leg. I won't be a divorcee for long. I’m sure of it.

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