A walk on thorns

Chapter 17| Light At The End...

Anisha's POV
Flashback
23rd October 2019.

"Tashin Hankali! Anisha, you are utterly unthankful! How can my husband provide me with all this luxury, yet you complain that he doesn't smile at you or treat you the way men do in those make-believe movies?" Aunt Saudah blabbed, her eyes sparkling with an almost indecent love for affluence. She couldn't resist looking around dreamily, the opulence of my home feeding her insatiable greed for wealth and status. "Isn't it so, Hajiya Rukhsar?" she pressed, searching for affirmation like a miser counting coins.

Mama nodded, her demeanor as sharp as a blade. They had come to a wedding in Kaduna and decided to stop by to see baby Rubina and me before heading back home. What started as a casual visit had spiraled into a heated lecture after I dared to mention Mukhtar's cold and dismissive behavior. My hint was met with derision and escalation.

"Kyale ta mana!" Mama snapped, waving me off with a scornful glance. "Do you think a man will behave with you the same way he did when you were still a bride? Haba, that fantasy dies the moment you put to bed! When I gave birth to you, your father couldn't stand to even look at me while I fed you, let alone sleep in the same room. You should count yourself lucky you have this mansion all to yourself! You do as you please, eat as you like, wear whatever catches your fancy, and your baby is healthy and has everything she needs. Wallahi, Saudah, when Sabrina was a baby, I accidentally broke one of the flasks, and her father seized all the others as punishment. I had to boil my drinking water every time I needed it. There is no wrath like that of a man, and we endured it all without these luxuries she's enjoying now," Mama fussed, almost throwing her fork at me as her indignation mounted.

"Mama, it's not that I'm complaining," I began, desperate to appease her. "It's just that I found his behavior a little... awkward. But I won't bring it up again," I apologized quickly, feeling cornered.

Aunt Saudah, who had been tearing into a chicken leg with the aggression of a predator, swallowed before speaking. "It could have been better for you, wallahi! Look at me, 23 years of marriage, and I've never gone home in the name of suspension or anything of the sort. Anisha, stay in your husband's house and stop all these inconsequential, petty complaints. It's what outsiders want to hear, ki rufa mana Asiri! Blind your eyes to what you see, deafen your ears to what you hear. Everyone's marriage is like this! If you refuse to endure, you'll end up facing worse conditions, without this affluence!"

"Insha Allah, it won't happen again, Aunt Saudah," I murmured, my voice trembling as tears welled up in my eyes.

"What am I seeing, Anisha?!" Mama's voice boomed, laced with mockery. "Innalillahi wa'inna ilaihi raji'un! Are you going to cry?" she exclaimed, her piercing gaze digging into me.

Her notice and derision only pulled the trigger. Despite my efforts to control myself, the tears spilled over, betraying my fragile state.

"Ehh! Jin dadi!" Aunt Saudah jeered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Surely, you're relishing life to the fullest if you have the luxury to waste tears like this."

"Anisha, stop this nonsense," Mama barked, slamming her hand against the table. "Give us what you intend to give us so we can leave. If I sit here any longer watching this ridiculous drama, I might beat the hell out of you!"

"Haba ke kuwa, Hajiya Rukhsar," Aunt Saudah interjected, trying to pacify her. "Please, let's finish eating first. Don't you see how full the dining table is?"

"She should pack the food in a takeaway. We're leaving," Mama retorted stubbornly.

Fuming inside, I refused to beg them to stay. "Sarah, pack the food for them," I ordered curtly before heading to my room. I grabbed four bundles of one-thousand-naira notes and two laces worth ₦180,000 each.