Burnt Clay (A Nigerian Muslimah)

Chapter 12

'But Mama do I have to go to the dinner party?' I pout childishly.

'Sabira there is no way you are gong to escape this. I said we are going and that is final'.

'Mama you if go on behalf of both of us will suffice, I promise. I'll look after Adil and Hameed and the house. Anything but that dinner you know people scare me' I try my luck.

'Don't throw me the people scare me card young lady' she warns, arms akimbo. Allah kuwa this woman is intimidating when she wants to be regardless of the fact that I am taller than her.

'You are not talking yourself out of this ok?. I haven't rested since i came back and you know the house is filled with people and you aren't making things easier. Stop being a spoilt brat and go dress up' she points at my bedroom door.
I stare at her mouth agape.

Unbelievable, this woman just came back from practically travelling the world, she is jet-lagged as eff but is still going for a Wedding Dinner Party not to mention that being a control-freak in a good way, she has been shouting her head off since she came back in order to organise the house. But she is claiming that I am the reason for her stress oh!!! Wani abu sai Mamana.

Just then my very over ambitious karma decides to throw me some chocolate icing on my annoyance because Zahrah walks out all dressed and made-up. She saunters right under my nose in her tight fitted gown which hugs her shape like Nicki Minaj. Note: sarcasm.

She raises her head making sure her each step leaves a distinct click that make her hard to ignore.

Zahrah isn't bad looking, far from it. But with her eye brows shaped like a machine gun and eyeshadows that so much resemble my Mothers Garden -no colour has escaped- she looks so much like Jim Carey in the mask.

Fisabilillah what did she do to her nose, I crane my neck to see clearer despite the fact that fluorescent lights are shining all over the house. It looks like she left some excess concealer from her forehead in between her brow down to the tip of her nose, her nose is resembling that of Nanny Macphee.

To cap it all, she decides to use my Ruby Woo and flat out fabulous on her lips.. Toh! Nidai it looks like she couldn't make up her mind which one to use and decided to use both because I could literally see the red and purple, both bright, fighting for attention. May the odds be forever in their favour!.

I stifle a treacherous laugh and turn to face Mama who knowing me well gives me a stern look.

'You see 'yan mata? Chicks?. They have already finished making up and are looking very pretty. Can't you just follow their example?.

I didn't think it possible but her neck cranes higher and she almost trips on the stairs because she isn't looking where she is going. She is smiling foolishly, proud because I have been told to follow her footsteps.

Mama gives me a rare conspiratorial smile at the way Zarah is acting after the praise and I laugh shaking my head.

'Off you go and please don't take too much time you know we are important guests'.

She has bribed me with a smile I so much crave so I give in and hurryback to my room. Firdausi turns and smiles at me from where she is standing in front of my dressing mirror and eyes almost begin to water.

The pretty girl has transformed herself into an aspiring witch. I feel really bad for her. No need to describe, just imagine Zarahs make up but a heavier one with machete instead for eye brows. Yup! scream part 9.

I can't even smile back so I pretend to look for something in my closet all the while thinking what make-up is doing to our generation. Honestly nowadays, it does more harm than good if not very professionally or carefully done.

She finally finishes and takes her multi colored, flawfully contoured face which looks like a rough blend of Amala and Semovita.

I comb my long full hair and pack it in a bun. I don't fancy acuci maza, all these stuff ladies wear at the ends of their hair to make it look like a hump but people say it's because my I don't need it. I comb my sparse brows, not feeling like shaping it and use a small comb to smoothen it.

I trust my contouring so I contour not so obviously and line the top of my lids and below my eyes with black khol then dab a darker shade of foundation as eyeshadow then used my Classic Champagne lipstick for an all out nude look.

I admire my handiwork and satisfied that I look cute enough, which doesn't happen everyday, I go on to wear my clothes, the silky material sewn by Saminu with greean background and yellow flowers. I feel me. But then my cousins probably saw themselves as I am seeing me so I might not look as good as I think.

I carry my green headgear and go out to search for someone who knows how to wrap it, I am clueless in that aspect.

After my young Aunt Ralia has tied the gear for me, I rush back up, grab my yellow veil and sling my gold coloured purse then slip my golden heels and am good to go.

Mama calls me telling me that everyone is outside and I am the only one they are waiting for which isn't exactly correct since she is still in her room.

I rush out just as she does and she gives an appreciative look.
'Wait let me take your picture. Just one shot before we leave'. I pose and she snaps away.

'Sabira why do you always look like a refugee and hide away like a fugitive if you can look this beautiful. My little flower has blossomed, Ya Allah I can't wait for your wedding'. She is smiling at me proudly and I feel like every effort is worth it. A smile that I know is better than all that makeup lights my face.

'Oya let's go. Speaking of your wedding how is Umar?'. She asks nonchalantly as we make our way dow. stairs and out of the house.
'Urrrr he is fine. I guess'.

'You guess?. Sabira we are going to talk later'.

I sigh in exasperation and hunch my back in defeat.

'Stand straight' she orders like a soldier and my back immediately obeys. Ella Enchanted will love me.
We make our way out, she tells me to enter a car, a white honda accord which i immediately walk to and enter the passengers side with Salam.
The people in the car ignore me expect for the driver. No surprise since my two fave people are the passengers. 'Good Evening', I greet the driver and Zarah who is sitting in the front gives me a look that suggests she thinks I am seeking his attention.

He doesn't answer but turns his head 180 degrees and stares at me. I didn't notice all that because I closed the end of my skirt outside and had to open the car door to bring it in.

I raise my head to repeat my greetings in annoyance but fail to utter a word because my eyes clash with light brown pupils staring intently at me.

My eyes are the size of alien spaceships. And my nostrils have refused to inhale any oxygen, I am literally breatheless. Believe me I have to force my self to breathe after like 50 minutes and 50 tries because the darn person sitting in the darn drivers seat just so happens to be Sultan.

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