#CatchingFlightsAndFeelings

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Gombe, Nigeria.

5th October, 2017.


Amidst the lively chatter from her cousins and the whirlwind of events, Fatimè couldn't pinpoint the exact cause of her pounding headache. The exhaustion from the week-long journey to Gombe and the relentless wedding preparations seemed to have taken a toll on her. They had arrived in Gombe just a week ago for her wedding—her wedding, she reminded herself. Even the joyful chants of "Amarya" couldn't fully register in her mind.

Every ritual felt like a physical formality, a series of steps her body mechanically went through while her mind floated elsewhere. Her aunts paid no heed to her preferences, insisting on bathing her with nono despite her aversion to the qarni that came with it. Safiyya, her skilled cousin, had transformed her unruly hair into neat shuku braids, and the dambordu ritual was a delight, where she was cleaned, perfumed, and patterned with henna, all the while her aunts and cousins showered her with blessings. Despite her request for no bridal shower, Intisar and Madina had organized a surprise one, and the haggling at the kamu event between Kamal's aunts and her cousins showed the significant amount settled, judging by Madina's wide smile.

Fatimè had feared not being accepted by Kamal's family, but her worries were laid to rest when his aunts embraced her warmly, smiles of "amaryar mu" on their faces. Anty Khadija had thoughtfully allocated a separate house for Fatimè and her bridesmaids. Currently, they were gathered in the sitting room, enjoying a meal and chatting animatedly. However, Fatimè had only managed to nibble on a piece of suya, as her nerves prevented her from having a proper meal. A hot shower had provided some relief, and she was grateful to have shed the intricate komolè ensemble she had worn for today's event. The word "beautiful" didn't quite capture the essence of the outfit, especially when adorned by her. She gave credit to Madina for meticulously taking care of all her outfits, leaving Fatimè with the simple task of attending fittings.

Returning to her nervousness and anxiety, Fatimè absentmindedly played with the heart-shaped locket hanging from her neck, wondering if Kamal felt the same way. Madina's gentle tap snapped her back to the room's lively conversation. "Are you okay? Your phone is ringing," Madina informed her, handing over the device. Meanwhile, her cousins began singing "ango misses amarya." Fatimè shook her head, excusing herself from the room to answer the call in solitude. Glancing at the caller's name, her heart skipped a beat—it was Khalid's mother.

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6th October, 2017

Fatimè leaned against the balcony railings on the second floor of her aunt's house, taking in the refreshing air and admiring the houses and birds scattered around. The sky was clear and beautiful, and she adjusted her veil to shield herself from the chilly weather. Without hesitation, she lifted the veil to her nose, inhaling the familiar scent of 'Lancôme en rose'. Sniffing her clothes had been a habit of hers, and Khalid would often playfully pull her hands away, teasing her for acting like a baby. Smiling at the memory, Fatimè wiped away a solitary tear that had escaped onto her cheek. She missed him dearly.

Last night's phone call from Khalid's mother contributed to her current state, even though all his mother did was wish her a happy married life. It was difficult for Fatimè to maintain contact with Khalid's mother because she couldn't help but tear up every time they talked. The love they both shared for him was incredibly strong.

Her aunt's house was a few meters from the mosque, where most of the Ardo family's wedding ceremonies took place. So when she heard the loudspeaker announcing, "An daura auren Fatimè Ardo da Kamal Maitambari..." she wasn't surprised. Fatimè had silently said her prayers before her cousins rushed into the balcony, showering her with hugs, exclamations of "Ma sha Allah," and congratulations.

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