Thorns and Berries

Chapter Twenty

Husna

Breakfast was not at all appealing to me. The image of Khadijah and her lover would not seize showing its ugly self before me and I could feel my head already getting stuffy and uncomfortable. At had then escaped from the dining table, excusing myself that I was having a running stomach.
   
Banging shut the door behind me, I fell face flat to the bed. I had no idea what to do about Khadijah's secret. I debated within myself on whether I should tell my father or not, and then figuring the truth could kill him, I shook my head disapprovingly. I might just have to confront Khadijah in person.
  
Just immediately, my phone buzzed and rang from beside me on the bed, knocking me from my thoughts. I picked the phone and seeing it was Kareem calling, my face lightened up and I slide the receiver.
      
"Good morning, hon."
      
"Morning, bae. How was your night?" His voice came, giving my troubled soul a kind of soothing relief.

Oh! How I had missed that voice!
     
"Ma shaa Allah. I'm missing you, boo." I pouted my lips.
   
Kareem gave a short chuckle.
       
"I miss you too. Can't wait to have you back. I was trying to reach you yesterday on phone but you weren't responding. I was so worried."
       
"I'm so sorry, hon." I rubbed my forehead as I recalled the bad memories of yesterday again. "I went for a short outing with the kids and got trapped in the rain. My phone went off afterwards and I forgot to take the second one with me."
       
"I'm sorry, love. Hope you didn't catch a cold?"
       
"Nah, I'm fine." I paused, took in a deep breath and called, "Kareem."
       
"Bae."
      
"When are you coming to see my family concerning our marriage?" I asked and then gave myself a pat at the back for making the first move. We have been together for years and now that I had told my family about him, I saw no need keeping a low key.
       
"Marriage?" Kareem repeated, sounding taken aback by my question. Perhaps he did not expect to be asked the question now, just as I did not expect myself to ask the question today.
       
"Yes, Kareem." I answered. "We've been together for two years now and you hardly say a word about it."
     
There was silence from Kareem.
      
"Kareem, are you there?" I asked, my heart now up my sleeves. Was he going to back out now? I feared for the worst.
      
"Yeah- yeah. I am." His voice recovered again as if he had been in a short trance by my question. He cleared his throat. "Urm, about the marriage..., I'll come see your family. Very soon."
       
"How soon, Kareem? They're already asking questions. I'm twenty two and no longer a teenage girl. At least come see them for an introduction."
     
He gave a deep sigh.
       
"Yeah, I know." He paused and continued. "Don't worry much about it, Husna. We'll sort it out soon as you get back home."
       
"Are you sure?" A smile brightened my  face, my hopes now heightened again.
       
"Yes, baby. You know I can't wait to have you as my wife."
   
I smiled widely this time. I loved it whenever he gave me such rare reminders. I knew he loved me just as I loved him. That, I was ready to bet my life on.
      
"Same here, hon. That would be the greatest joy of my life."
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The kawyawa kicked off by mid-day. Loud music from local drums and flutes played outside the house and children dressed in their celebration attires ran around, jumping and leaping about ecstatically, the mansion in efflorescence with the arrival of the event. The exquisite and jubilant atmosphere gave a pleasant scent of the celebration and each woman could be seen with her attire of vibrant maroon and white patterned wrapper and a simple white T-shirt with local face tattoos and marks.
   
The day went swift and with tremendous fun as everyone merrily engrossed in dancing, laughing, enjoying every bits of local delicacies and savouring the feel of being typical arewa. Even I who was continuously troubled with the image of Khadijah and her lover could not help but set the mind troubling image aside, and have my own share of the fun. And so, it went with loads of dance, music, laughter and local Hausa cuisines even till seven at night when it seemed as though the party was just starting. Well, the party would last till midnight, so that was expected.
    
I was however interrupted by a phone call and with a grumpy face, I picked the unknown caller, excusing myself from my dance with Yasmin and the ladies, stepping a bit away from the loud music.
      
"Hello." I placed the phone to my ear, placing another hand tightly to my other ear, trying to block the loud noise of the party from distracting my phone call.
      
"Are you at a club?" Came a masculine voice from the end of the line. I frowned deeply. Who could this individual be?
      
"Pardon?"
      
"You club?" The voice came again, this time, sounding a little familiar.
      
"Who is on the line?" I asked, curiously.
      
"I can't believe you're this daft, Husna."
    
And then it clicked. That masculine voice that calls my name so calmly, so beautifully, so angelic. Hameed.
       
"Yes, I am partying and NO! I AM NOT in a club!" I stressed my words, raising my voice over the phone in annoyance. Why was he even calling my cell phone?
      
"Hey, little lady. Calm down, okay?" He said, this time with a slight chuckle. "And what's the difference between partying and clubbing, missy?"
    
I ran a hand over my temple melodramatically. Why was he hell bent on frustrating me even in my happy moments?
       
"We're having a celebration at our house. My sister is getting married." I forced my nerves down to answer him.
       
"Oh, oh! I see. Let me guess..., you guys are having a kawyawa party then. Am I right?"
       
"Yes." I answered, deeply frowning as I wondered how he knew of the party. Maybe he just had a wild guess because of the music playing in the background.
       
"Are you dancing too?" He asked, laughing slightly at his own question. "I can imagine you dance. It's going be so hilarious." He laughed again.
   

That was it. I have had enough of him already. Who the hell did he think he was, intruding my privacy the way he wanted? And how did he even get my number? Why does he even have my number? Whatever the answers were, I cared not to stay with him on the phone and find out. I was already fed up with him.
       
"Goodbye, Hameed." I snapped, suddenly aggravated and made to end the call but his voice came quickly again in desperation.
       
"Wait, wait, wait! Please Husna, just wait a second." He pleaded hurriedly.
   
I sighed and forced myself to listen to him again, a minute was only what I was going to give him to say whatever he was about to say, before I hung up on him for good this time.
       
"Fine. One minute and I'm ending the call." I agreed, bluntly.
       
He gave a deep sigh of relief.
       
"Thank you." He paused and continued. "Well, the thing is..., I really want to see you."
   
My eyebrows furrowed in puzzle again.
       
"You want to see me? Why?"
       
"Because I have something really important to tell you."
       
"Well,... NO!" I objected in a harsh and careless tone. "If you have anything to say to me, just say it over the phone. I have ears to listen, okay?"
       
"Arrrgh! Come on!" He nagged, frustrated.
      
"Are you talking or should I hang up on you?"
       
"Wait, wait, wait!" He begged again. It sounded funny the way he spoke so desperately. What did he want to tell me that was so important? We were not in good terms, so why this?
       
"I'll tell you over the phone, if that's what you really want." He sighed again and continued.

"I want to invite you over to our house for dinner." When he sensed silence from me, he quickly added. "With my mother."
   
I couldn't seem to understand his words correctly. A dinner at the Indimis? With his mother? Why?
       
"Are you trying to play a fast one on me again?"
       
"I swear I'm not." He answered, quite hurriedly.
      
"Then, why are you inviting me over for dinner at your place?"
       
"I just want to make it up to you, Husna. I want to make things right with you again." His voice came so soft and vulnerable that I fought myself from falling for the effect he was having on me.
     
My eyes searched about in confusion and lost. Somehow, I felt this whole thing was a child's play. Him asking for a chance to make things right again. What if he was just trying to deceive and lure me to his games like he did the first time we met?
        
"I don't believe you" I gulped and forced the words out. I was never supposed to trust him again. That one was for sure.
       
"Husna, please." He beseeched again. "I know I've done really stupid things in the past to hurt you. But trust me. I'm a changed person now. I just want to fix things with you."
       
I sucked in the warm air, sharply and shakily. What if he was saying the truth? What if he was not? What if he wanted to get back at me? What if he does not? Whatever the answer was, one thing I was sure of,... I was never going let my guards down where Hameed was involved.
       
"Thanks for the invite, Hameed. But no. I decline your offer. Have a goodnight rest." I gave a bored answer and quickly ended the call.
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Thirty minutes after returning to the party again, dehydration set in and I raced to the empty kitchen to pour myself a glass of water.

After gulping down a whole glass, I dragged my feet tiredly out of the kitchen to see my father in the living room, heading his way up the staircase. My heart suddenly thumped faster against my chest at the sight of him, fear getting a sharp hold of me. I had never felt fear on seeing my father, but ever since he laid his hands on me, I had suddenly felt terrorized by his presence alone. We had not exchanged a word since that fateful day, perhaps because they had never had the chance and privacy to.
   
I made to slip pass him, grateful he was not looking at my direction, but before I could take a few more steps, his voice came, almost throwing me off balance.
       
"Husna."
   
I slowly turned to his direction. He was midway up the stairs and had now stopped to look at me.
       
"Good evening, daddy." I greeted, clumsily, hating the foreign atmosphere between us now. It felt as though we were strangers living under the same roof.
       
"I've been looking all over for you. I was even heading for your room to check if you were there." He said.
       
"I was in the party with the rest." I replied calmly, my gaze fixed to the ground in respect. And fear.
       
"I want you to get dressed. We're going out right now."