BROKEN

0.5

0.5: Shattered Hopes.

~ Epigraph ~

Only the heart knows it own sorrows. And
Its exactly as Emily said: The heart breaks, yet lives.

~ Dedication ~

This book is dedicated to my darling Maamee and absolutely amazing sibkings. I love you all to the moon and  never back.

~ Prologue ~

Ayesha Hussein Imam have never known luxury all her life  due to the very circumstances surrendering her birth - third of nine children, an unemployed dad, an unaffectionate mother, non-existent care and many responsibilities. So her grandmother, Amma, took her under her wings because the girl was apparently very stubborn for her own good and her non-present parents aren't ever going to help matters. She was born and raised in the village of Bakori until she was 8 when her grandmother decided she no longer wants to live down in the village - away from the glitters of the city.

Ayesha got introduced to the city of Kaduna giddily cause she has been looking forward to such day- where she'll get to attend school and learn about all the English stuffs people in her village scoff at. It has always been her dream so she prayed fervently on the way that her uncle, Ammou Ahmad, will enroll her in one such school. And an answer to her prayers descended in the form of her enrolled in one of the most fanciest school of the city - where she'll attend lesson and sessions with the the rest of her rich cousins.

She wasn't treated good and unlike her younger brother, Sulaiman, who take in the insults and make hay with, she resorts to brutal violence - knocking her little cousins, breaking a fancy china set, or many of her wicked comebacks so everyone knew to not cross her. She lived enthusiastically, full of dreams and hopes and shooing away anything that threatens to diminish her vibrant hues.

Until she couldn't.

Growing up did nothing to make Ayesha mend her ways of being unnecessarily stubborn and a big mischief maker - her own way of reminding her parents that she wants love - to which they always shrug off, unrelenting. And even after writing her jsce, Ayesha remains the ever so stubborn kid in the whole of her neighborhood.

Until she wasn't.

After a long term spent in her boarding school situated in Zaria, Ayesha came back pretty tired from her mini journey to meet the sight of a whole lot of humans jubilating in front of their home. She recalls not a single event that could possibly happen to warrant such celebration so she pushed through the crowd to get inside - an unsettling unfamiliar feeling making home in her guts.

"Here comes the bride ma. Maa shaa, Allah." a woman shouted embracing her in a congratulatory embrace to which she shrugs off absentmingdedly as she frantically search for her Aunt or Mom to clarify and set the straight the facts cause something is awfully wrong and she doesn't trust herself to keep pushing through.

She felt her being jerked towards her mother's room and heard it being locked almost immediately but she made no effort to say anything or look at the one who dragged her feeling no need to cause the signature scent of her mom said it all.

"Ayesha, you need to leave right now. I sent Babawo to you didn't you meet him?" she started and it was then that Ayesha noticed her disheveled state pulling up a brow.

"I don't understand. Why do I need to leave? Here's the only home I know and no, I haven't seen him." Ayesha answered strangely calm. "And Maama what is that I heard me being addressed as? I didn't quite get it." she added in a breath.

Pushing her cloths in a sack, her mother pulls and shake her before addressing her " You need to leave this city right now. Your Baaba just got you married to some tribes lad in this neighborhood and you staying isn't an option. You are too young to be married." her mother finished wiping away tears slipped from her eyes whilst she was talking - urging her girl to leave immediately.

Stunned and unable to register fully her predicament, Ayesha looked at her Maama as if she's developed two heads  - doubting all of the story and laughing at the absurdity of it. Her father, Malam Ismail Yusuf Bakori - the man she respects with all of her life - the man who always engaged himself in her dreams - the man who promised to support her all through her journey - the man who loves her the most -the man who knew his religion explicitly, married her off to someone she never consented to? Forced her into a marriage? Trampled, squeezed, and shattered her hopes? Her dreams?

What happened to being a registered nurse, a part time writer, a spoken word artiste and being Muhammad Bello's wife?

Unable to take it all in, she succumbed to the darkness she never knew would adorn her life with unwavering fierceness.

_________________

So, phewwwwwww. This is like the first chapter and am hoping you'd liked and enjoyed it as much as I did writing. Winks.

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Yours peacefully,
Sals💕