The life of Nailaa.

Insert three:

Nailaa
Me: ay ke jazzy I don't know what you want me to say ke? I was walking down the road with my best friend Yasmeen whom I call Jazzy because of her name means Jasmine.
Jazzy: your dad is simply crazy, oh ay imagine trying to find you a husband. Hello we are 14 turning 15 and this is South Africa... this is rape... yazini I think am sticking to becoming a lawyer when am done with this hell whole ,to help people like you. Maybe there is a law against this?... she looks at me waiting for me to answer and before I could she rants and rants. That Jazzy for you. She asks questions and answer them herself and she speaks so fast sometimes I get lost in her conversations but quickly find ground again....
Me: All I know am not marrying anyone here in Newcastle and be stuck for the rest of my life. Hell no!! We continued walking to the library. The distance wasn't to far but our school bags were killing our backs. When we reached there we returned the old books we took and went for new books. Now being a muslim girl means somethings you just have to read about. As much as everyone learns via Tv or have friends who tell them things, we learn with books. For sex, abuse and power we have Virginia Henly. Crime we stick to Sharon Sala who also goes by Dinna Mccall. Reading is our life, we take two different books sometimes we take the same just so we can discuss the plot at length, basically that our life. At least Jazzy dates every now and then when she goes to see her mother for holidays at kilbarchin.
Jazzy: I want something feisty and sexy to read...she skim read books of Jude Devaraux...
Me: yazi with the amount of books you read that are feisty one will swear you auditioning for prostitution. I hide away since I have the two books that ill be reading and will be able to hide since dad doesn't like me reading...
Jazzy: vele ngiyi prostitue ka bae( I am my man prostitute) we made our way to check out and made our way to pie city so my big brother can pick me up and drop Jazzy by the rank since her family allows her to use public transport. That another thing that my father has going, me not using public transportation. We waited 5 minute for Araan he hooted since he has hazard light on and his still on the road. We ran and quickly got in the car.
Araan: salaams( greetings)
Jazzy and i: salaams(greetings).... we drove in silence to the rank and dropped Jazzy off and now was just myself and him.
Araan: dad has people coming over this weekend for a visit... Araan looked at me via rearview mirror.
Me: I so hope its not someone else who looking to marry me, am just tired of this whole finding a husband thing, dad should just leave it and let me be in peace.
Araan: well as much as I don't agree with dad and you still small but its for the best,look at your cousins all married at 15 and living the good life and they husbands are treating them good all thanks to dad, so I trust he will find you someone that will love and cherish you cause that what you deserve.
Me: I don't even know what to do with a boyfriend and now am getting a husband, speak to him, he listens to you. We pulled in the drive through and he turned in his seat and looked right at me and smiled
Araan: look am also not happy about this but rules are rules. Now hold you head up high and put on your scarf cause this Jeep here might be our visitors... I sorted my scarf since I always take my Pradha(face covering) and scarf off when am in his car since its dim.. he opened the door and gave me a little squeeze as we walked in the house. This is what i love about all 8 of my brothers,they adore me to bit and pieces and they are loving and kind and sometimes when dad tries to be a little extra they swoop in and save my day. Being the last born has made me so spoilt and I love it just that am not snobby or else mother will slap it out of me. When we walked into the kitchen we were greeted by my mother cooking aroma and her and the helper moving about in the kitchen
Mama: shesha uzongisiza lana(hurry up and come help me) i dropped my bag on the floor and help her marinate the meat then when i was done i let it set. I washed my hands and when to my room and took of my Abaya(muslim dress) scarf and pradha and then threw myself on the bed. I sat there looking at my purple ceiling with white dots trying my hardest to listen to the conversation by the lounge. But all I could hear was my mom shuffling about in the kitchen. The door opened and when I looked at the door I saw a guy, so I quickly jumped off my bed and moved to the side next to the curtain to hide from this strange guy standing by the door with his mouth hanging open in shock as if his stuck.