A Lesson Or A Blessing.

12

phariedah_ this is for you,for being literally the first to always vote💚💚

Previously on IELB.
The previous chapter was about the matters of the heart, she was done caring but why? Love was a destruction to her but why?.scars and wounds on her body? Was she perhaps harassed or was she perhaps turned into a hitting bag?.

Read on,

First look is halal,

Second look?,

That's confusion.

The cognitive faculty that came along with the way her culture dressed was absolutely too bipolar to be understood by her, here's a quick outlook; Materials of different grades, patterns, models and quality sewn into splendid and sometimes crazy styles, mostly worn by the vast majority of the northern part of Nigeria, and also, sometimes, redefined into rear designs worn by southerners and others..

Now, a typical woman, lady or girl from her tribe will have one of those fabrics sewn into a skirt and blouse, she would then, tie the head wrap cut from the same material on her head, in a way Muneenah could never be able to, complimenting this dressing with catchy jewels,and oh, a final drape of a matching veil too, in a unique way. A lady from a more greater sense of fashion and trend in her tribe would go to an extreme in sewing a gown, a bit too flashy instead, with this fabric, or better more, a six pieces skirt and the newest fashion of a peplome blouse, instead of a veil though, she would top it with a turban or just a beautiful brief but precised knotty style of tying the head wrap.

There was something serene and peng with the way young ladies looked while dressed that way, especially with that cool make-up on, wallahi so attractive. Muneenah though, had never being fascinated by such, a little for the fact that she was never given the privilege to own much of those, and a more percentage of, she was unsettled by the idea of dressing that way.

The judgemental comments passed on her mostly cause of her frivolous way of dressing unlike her people, always pushed her to a more compelling fixation towards admiring the idea of dressing in a long, baggy dress, most of the time, Abayas, with a compliment a bit too unique to the eyes of the human's who disregarded how she dressed. There was always, something a bit extra and different in the simple way she looked, in her final year at school, she had black buttons on her lab-coat instead of white, the few old abayas she had, had to always be complimented with one thing or the other that made her appearance different, and a bit less approachive to say the least.

Now, standing, after her long bath,as she was met with the extravagant view of the hanging dresses and abayas before her, she was thrilled to an extent, she had never in her life seen such beautiful clothing, she stared at those for a while, Alot of colours, designs and trends she had never set her eyes on, she had no idea, if his family were considerate enough to decide her wardrobe since before her arrival, but she decided against picking any of those clothing that were hung in there.

Briefly shutting the wardrobe, she picked up her back-bag, that thankfully had a piece of a black clothing she had worn almost half her entire life, it was still good looking but she would bet that even the uniform the workers wore around was more reasonable, but at the same time, she decided to stick to her reality, her black abaya was satisfactory even if not exceptional, she sighed, she definately was not someone to care so much about looking extravagant, she just was not settled by the idea of someone downgrading her dignity by merely registering her mode of dressing,