"Hanina, Zury and Manal are asking, where do you want the other consoles to be, dining or by the corridor?" Mama asked while she listened to Zury on the phone.
I shrugged and grabbed the cereal box off the shelf and dumped it inside our shopping cart.
"I don't know, Manal is the interior designer, she should decide" I replied.
Mama sighed and told Zury what i said.
"Hanina this is your house we're talking about and your wedding, at least make some effort"
"I don't want to get married" I said gritting my teeth.
"A Nani baba ma(you've heard your father) he'll send you to the village if you continue this nonsense" Mama warned.
"Barki Allah (please hanina) make some effort, your dad meant what he said" she continued.
I knew genuinely that mama too didn't have a say in this, Baba has made his decision and no one can change it.
I sighed and bit my lip "ok" I said and smiled for the first time in a long time.
No matter what I say or do Baba must go on with this wedding, I'll be damned if he even listens to me about changing his mind.
"Great, now let's go and shop for your favorite things" Mama clasps her hands in mine and we walked hand in hand talking about all the necessary things I needed.
We spent the whole day there, buying half of the super market. Mama was adamant on me buying even the most stupidest things.
After that, mama drove me home and dropped me while she took the things we shopped for to my said to be house.
Zury has been texting Mama countless times about the house. Mama left the phone with me because Zury wanted to talk to me.
Zury 🌚: Hanina Sare ma Vodi sosai( Hanina your house looks very good).
Zury 🌚: it's so clean and beautiful and just mwa!
Zury 🌚: Should I send you a picture?
Me: No! I don't want.
Zury 🌚: Bakaw yiya 😒( village girl )
Me: yes, whatever!
I switched off the phone and went straight to my room.
On the way I get greeted by many people and I tried my best to smile back.
"Hanina it's time for tura ren wuta (AN: I don't know the general word for it but brides normally do it before marriage)" Anty Jamila comes in my room and said.
I nodded and removed my clothes then wrapped a wrapper around my chest.
In the next hours or so I get thrusted into the kasco.
YOU ARE READING
My life as a Fulani girl.
RomanceIt was all part of the plan. It was my culture. I had to do it. Heck, I didn't even have a say in it... Follow me as I tell you the story of my life as a Fulani girl . Disclaimer: this book is Islamic, but it doesn't portray the perfect Islam...
