Burnt Clay (A Nigerian Muslimah)

Chapter 26

The guests have started trickling in, the closer relatives being earliest to arrive.

I have finally, with prayers disconnected my soul with the body so that I can see whatever it is that is happening like an audience and not the person it is happening to. So far, it is my only tenous grip on my sanity.

'Ya Subhanallah does it have to be this painful?' I yell.

The lady smiles in what I consider a wicked manner. 'It depends on your skin and the amount of hair on your body'.

'Well you should have told me to shave but this halawa is hell. Ouch!'. I conplain

'That's worst' she says shortly.

She spreads the warm mixture of sugar and lime on my bare skin and I brace myself for the searing pain. We have been at it for the past 15 minutes and honestly, I am more than eager to get it over with.

Halawa is a sort of a custom where the womans body will be waxed thoroughly shortly before the wedding, usually two days, it's a beauty regimen for brides.
Part of the regimen is kurkum, it's a mixture of turmeric powder and some wierd stuff. It will be mixed into a paste and rubbed on the brides body till she is almost yellow.
Then she will be scrubbed with dilke, a greenish local scrub that will be rubbed all over the body.

Suffice to say that by the time they are done, her skin will be as yellow, smooth and subtle and as a baby's feet.

I have been going through this process for almost a week now and to say I am fed up is understating things.

She finally peels the last patch of hair on my arm and I almost yelp, it seems like she intentionally made it the most painful.

I am about to relieve my stressed body from the excruciating sitting position I habe been for the past hour when I hear excited yell and thuds of feet heading my way.

The door swings open and before I realise it, I am engulfed in a mighty hug and lifted off my feet.

'Our Ameriya. See how you are looking all sparkly and fresh. This wedding fits you o!'. Chidera exclaims excitedly.

I take big gulps of much needed breath before hugging her again with a cheek splitting grin

'Chidera, I am sooo glad you have come. I didn't know you could make it all the way from Enugu but you did.'

'Nonsense, I wouldn't miss it for the world'. She pulls my cheeks playfully and I swat at her hand.

Chidera was my senior in secondary school by 3 years. She immediately took liking of the shy small new girl and eventually became my protector against the occassional bullying by her classmates or juniors.

She washed for me, fetched my water, made sure I ate because she claimed I was too lanky and she was scared I would break.

She made sure I opened up from private my shell of shyness which wasn't very hard as she was easily the most social girl in the school.

Chidera was and still is a big, boisterous, motherly and easygoing person whose company is a balm on it's own, it did more good on my injured ego than I can count. That is why when she graduated from the school, I left too and joined a day school near home, what was boarding school without Chidera?.
We have kept in contact ever since and I more happy beyond words that she has come to cheerlead my big day, I feel better already.

'Chidi Mama!' I use her nickname fondly. 'What's up with you? Any gists for me'.

'See this girl o!. You want me to chat about my life when today is your big day?'.