Scarred For Life

Chapter 44

*
Several days later, Afrah still couldn't decide whether she had done the right thing or not. Sometimes, she would look at her reflection and insist that she wanted this; that it was the right thing to do. Other times, she would lock herself in her bedroom and cry, unable to bear the thought of it all.

But she had made her bed, and now she must lie in it.

The uncertainty remained with her however, even when Adnan's representatives came over to formally ask for her hand. Afrah nearly had a heart attack when she was called to help with the food, but a stroke of luck saved her when she realized that his father wasn't there. Instead, her father's cousins had taken up the space in the living room, conversing loudly so that their voices bounced off the walls. They were talking about politics, which had never been her favorite topic in the world. Afrah kept her face down as she placed the food before them, hurrying back to her room. She left the door open however, so she could hear what they were talking about. Coincidentally, Amina had left her bedroom door open as well. She had returned home the night before, fully intending to remain there until after the wedding.

"They're awfully loud, aren't they?" she called from her bedroom. "I just hope they get over with it quickly. I need a nap."

"That's all you've been doing for the past few weeks," Afrah said.

"I'm pregnant," Amina gestured to her belly which was protruding significantly now.

"I'm telling you, Aminu," she heard someone say, "you should contest when the elections come around. Becoming a member of the House of Representatives is just the right step you need to plant your feet firmly into the world of politics. You certainly have the wealth to do that."

"We did not come here to discuss politics, Bashir," her father snorted.

"Of course," the man said. "Of course. Why don't you send for her?"

Almost immediately, Afrah's pulse quickened as she heard the living room fall silent. Moments later, her phone began to ring from her father's call.

"Good luck," Amina chuckled. "And remember, do not look them in the eye, or you will turn to stone."

"Very funny," Afrah said as she headed downstairs. She had to concentrate really hard to slow down her breathing, and to calm the rapid beating of her heart.

The men looked up as she entered the living room, keeping her eyes on the floor as before.

"Aminu," Bashir chuckled, "I didn't believe that there was any woman who could rival Halima in her prime, but I have to say, Afrah would give her a run for her money."

"What do you mean by that?" her father glared at him. "My wife is still the most beautiful woman to ever walk this planet."

That earned a hearty round of laughter as Afrah knelt in the middle of the room. She was facing Bashir, who had clearly been appointed as the official speaker of the day.

Bashir was the oldest paternal cousin of her father's, although they had been raised in the same household. Afrah's grandfather used to be the wealthiest man in the town, and so he naturally shouldered the responsibilities of most of his nieces and nephews. Most of them lived in his house, such that it was indistinguishable who were his actual children or otherwise.

Bashir closely resembled her father, although he was darker in complexion, a little bit taller and perhaps a little greyer up top. He sat in the middle of the couch, taking up the most space on it. To his right was his immediate younger brother, Hafiz. Afrah briefly looked up at him, noting the thick sideburns which framed his face. He was the skinniest of the bunch, a head shorter than them as well. Faintly, she remembered him telling her once that he could wrestle her father to the ground easily. Looking at him now, she doubted he could wrestle a toddler without sustaining fatal injuries.