The Crown And Her Shadows

chapter 39

Iman stepped out of the sleek 2024 Mercedes Benz E350, Amina following closely behind.

“fulani nan ne,” Amina said, glancing around.

“Tohm,” Iman replied calmly, smoothing her dress as they walked into the open venue.

The courtyard had been transformed into a traditional kamu setting long woven mats lined the floor, low stools and plush cushions scattered around golden rattan centerpieces. Silk zannas in deep purples and golds billowed gently in the evening breeze. Lanterns hung from strings overhead, casting a soft, dreamy glow across the space. The scent of incense and food mixed in the air with the faint sounds of Hausa love songs playing on live kalangu drums.

As they approached the front row, Iman was guided to a cushioned seat next to Mami, who was surrounded by a group of elegantly dressed friends and council women.

“Mami, ina wuni,” Iman greeted warmly.

“Ahh, my daughter,” Mami’s eyes lit up with excitement. She rose to hug her. “Ya jiki? Hope he is not stressing you,” she added with a teasing smile, nodding toward Iman’s bump.

“Haa!” Iman exclaimed with a laugh. “It’s a girl, Mami.”

“No, it’s a boy! We know already. Ko ba haka ba, Khadijah?” Mami said, gesturing at Khadijah who was sitting nearby, busy with a plate of jollof rice.

“Tap, Mami. Girl muke so! Boy for what? Gashi kina da su kamar ruwa,” Khadijah said.

They carried on chatting, forgetting the rest of the women there. Then someone interjected.

“Ashe Iman kina da ciki?”

Before Iman could respond, Khadijah clapped back. “Ina ruwanku? Sai idawa.” She stood and tugged Iman away. “Come jare, leave all these aunty aunty women.”

“I have and will never ef like them,” Khadijah muttered as they made their way to another table.

“Guys, this is Iman Hamma Nassim’s wife,” Khadijah announced.

“Hello,” echoed softly around the table.

“Hii,” Iman said shyly.

“This is Nafisa, Amal, Aira, Maimuna, Shahida, Zaynab, Fatima, Nana, Aisha, and Farida my cousins from Baba’s side,” Khadijah explained.

“Ohh, okay,” Iman said, settling into her seat.

As the event progressed, Iman grew tired. She waved Amina over and whispered, “Please bring me a bottle of warm water, my compression socks, and the Crocs.”

Khadijah helped her put on the socks under the table, whispering nonsense to make her laugh. Soon, they called their name for a picture. The girls stood and headed to the dance floor.

Photos were being taken in front of a beautiful backdrop made of hand-dyed fabric and fresh roses. After snapping a few pictures, Khadijah pulled the bride  close.

“Haifa, ga Iman. Matar Hamma.”

“Ohh okay,” Haifa said, smiling as she hugged Iman. “Hey, congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Iman replied warmly.

As they made their way back, Iman heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Imani?”

She turned around, eyes wide. “Umar?”

“Keh!” he grinned, arms open.

She laughed and hugged him. “What are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’re the groom?”

He rolled his eyes. “Nooo. The groom’s my guy. I actually ran into Nassim outside the palace.”

She noticed a girl hovering nearby, obviously interested.

“Ah, okay,” she said, shaking her head .

“Tohm, lemme get back ,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I hope it’s a boy. So he can learn polo.”

“It’s going to be a girl! Why does everyone keep saying it’s a boy?” she said in mock frustration as she walked back to her seat.

Her food arrived soon after.

“ya Iman, that’s your fifth plate o. Are you not full?” Farida asked, amused.

“No, I’m pr—” she paused, catching herself. “I’m hungry, very hungry.”

Her dress didn’t reveal the bump much, so most people didn’t even notice unless they got close.

“Okay o,” Farida replied with a grin.

The event ended with the girls dancing under the lights, while Iman sat by the side with Amina and Khadijah, who kept dropping by in between songs.

Later that night, Iman sank into the seat of the car, resting her head back with a sigh of relief. The ride to the palace was quiet, peaceful.

They arrived at the chambers, and as soon as she walked in, she was greeted by chaos.

Nassim, Umar, Mustafa, Kamal, Imran, Aliyu, Sadiq, and a bunch of others she didn’t even know were all lounging in the living room, shouting over each other and devouring suya.

“Ehnn! She’s back!” Umar shouted. “Let’s ask her!”

Iman narrowed her eyes. “Ask me what?”

“Isn’t it true that you don’t have a favourite colour?” Nassim asked, smugly.

All the guys froze, watching her.

“Yeah… I don’t,” she said simply.

“Ehnn mana! Bana Fada ba!” Nassim crowed. “Didn’t I tell you?”

“Oya, my 100 bucks,” he said, stretching his hand toward a sulking Umar.

“Gashi,” he muttered, slapping the bill into his palm dramatically.

Shaking her head, she ignored their theatrics and walked down the hallway. She climbed the stairs to their room, stepped in and felt the cool breeze from the AC.

She stripped down slowly, letting her dress fall to the floor, and stepped into the bathroom. The tub was already filled with soapy water. She sank in with a sigh, not moving until the water began to cool.

Then she showered, wrapped herself in a towel, slipped on her bonnet, and changed into a soft cotton pajama gown. When she reentered the room, Nassim was standing there.

“How...”

“Shush,” she said, crawling into bed. “Tomorrow.”

And with that, sleep took her like a wave.