My New Home

Chapter Three

I woke up to the sound of people moving around, I checked the other side of the bed only to find it empty.

Jamaal soon entered with his body dripping wet, he saw me already awake and greeted.

“Asalam alaykum my new wife, hope you slept well?”

“Yes Alhamdullilah”.

“Get up and take your bath dear, it’s time for prayer”.

“What’s the time?” I asked

He glanced towards the wall clock and replied, “It’s 5:30am”.

“Isn’t that too early for prayer?

“No my dear, it’s the best time to get up and pray to your creator”.

“Alright, I’ll do that soon”.

I lied back on the bed to get a little settled but unknowingly slept off and woke up again to the sound of a knock on the door.

“Asalam alaykum, it’s time for salaat”, an unknown voice called.

“I’ll join you soon”, I shouted back and the person on the other side left.
Soon, I drifted off to another sleep
and by the time I woke up, the sun has fully risen and I scrambled from my bed to take my bath and perform ablution. I couldn’t perform salah in my room because a room had been converted into a mini mosque where the women of the house could easily say their salah.

While on my way to the mosque, I had to pass through the living room and I could hear voices coming from that direction but I had no choice but to continue moving.

All eyes fell on me and I was so embarrassed, I felt like the ground should open up and swallow me whole. As if that was not enough, the phone I was holding rang out, it was my mum calling so I picked it up and said hello but the voice on the other side was too low, so I had to put the phone on speaker.

“Hello oko omi, my mother began, how was your night?”

“Fine ma, thank you”, I replied.

“Hope they’re treating you well?”

“Of course, they are, ma”. I replied.

“Alright, if anything goes wrong don’t hesitate to put a call through to me. Alright? Is your head covered?”

“Yes ma”. Where’s she going with this? I thought.

“Ok, kneel down and let’s pray. In Jesus name”, she started.

I should have known since I lived with her for twenty five solid years. I didn’t realize I have paused on my way to the mosque while I received the call until I heard a chorus of Audhubillaah behind me and realized that my phone was still on speaker.

Oh my God! I guess I’ve lost points with the in-laws but it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to them anyways, they knew my mum’s love for her religion and she never shy away from it.

I quickly disconnected the call and rushed towards the mosque to observe my prayer and also to reserve the remaining dignity I have left.

After my salah, I waited behind and listened closely to know if they were done with their Ta’alim so I can quietly run to my room. While I waited, Ameerah, one of those ladies that welcomed me home yesterday entered the mosque and greeted me.

“Asalam alaykum iyawo mi, (my wife)”. She started.

Iyawo mi is probably my new name now, I thought. It’s ironic how a female get married and she’s automatically dubbed iyawo, she then gives birth and become mummy something and is henceforth branded the title for life but I guess I won’t be the one to change the custom. I returned to the present and replied the salam.

“Wa alaykum Salam sister Ameerah”.

I remembered how important it is to include the prefix, ‘sister’ or ‘auntie’ to almost everyone’s name at my in-laws. My mum warned me on how it’s mandatory to do that if I plan to stay married for long and my case is special since I’m staying in a family house. Mum even told me how lucky I am to be born in the twenty-first century, and had I been around earlier, I would have had to respect even a day old baby and treat him or her like an elderly. Getting back from my reverie, I faced my sister in-law so I could know the purpose of her visit.

“How was your first night in our house, hope it was fun for you?” She enthused

“Of course ma”, I replied.

“I’m glad to hear that. She said. When you’re done with your Adhkaar, let me know, so I could give you a tour of the house while you simultaneously greet the elders. Afterwards, you’ll take your breakfast and we’ll know where to go from there and don’t even think about hiding in your room today”.

I smiled shyly. “I’m through with my Adhkaar sister, let’s go ahead”.

Together, we moved to the living room where she pointed out different people to me and whispered in my ear to kneel and greet them. I did as instructed while each person replied my greetings and gave about thirty minutes-long of prayer. My knee was sore already before she informed me that we’ll be moving to the next flat to repeat the procedure. I looked around for Jamal to see if he was around and could rescue me from the torture. How ironic it is that, I, a woman that couldn’t even greet my family of nine in the morning at my own house have embarked on a greeting routine in my matrimonial home. Marriage really does wonders and I think I’ll have to make this a prayer point if I were to continue this without fail.

We left our flat and knocked on the entrance door of the next flat which was directly opposite ours. A man who seemed to be in his late twenties came out to attend to us and upon seeing my companion, he brightened.

“Amiscoco, Asalam alaykum”, he greeted.

“Wa alaykum salam warahmotullah, I told you to stop with that silly nick name, otherwise I would pull out your own too and use it everywhere even amidst your friends, sucky sucky”, She finally revealed.

I placed my palm in front of my mouth to cover the laugh that was threatening to spill out but I don’t think I was that successful because he turned towards my direction and stared at me as though he’s seeing me for the first time and I’m glad I’ve finally become visible to him.

“Iyawo, I’m so sorry, Asalam alaykum to you to,” he greeted.

“Wa alaykum salam warahmotullah wabarakaatuhu”

“Alright, will you open the door and let us in or would we have to peep through the door hole to greet those at home?”Ameera queried with her arms akimbo.

“Iyawo is highly welcome, but you can stay behind and peep through if that’s your choice”.

She pushed him out of the way and we entered. He trailed behind grumbling about how he wished he was the only child and won’t have to be physically abused every now and then.

She turned back to address me, “that’s my twin, his name is Idris”.

“You’re a twin?” I asked reflexively, and realized how stupid it sounded. I don’t know what is with us Yorubas asking questions that had basically been answered.

“Of course I am”. She replied. She’s nice, I thought. If I were in her shoes, I would ignore the question and wait for the other person to figure it out.

“I noticed the siblings banter”. I told her.

Soon, we entered the living room but no one was present and we moved towards each room and knocked

“Asalam alaykum”, she says, and moved through the rooms without waiting for a reply.

I followed suit and moved along with her before she told me to wait in the living room that they’ll be joining us soon. They came out one after the other and I lowered myself on my knees to continue the greeting process. The last person that came out was a very fair and elegant woman, she looked to be about 6ft’ 3 and I had to crane my neck to look at her full height. It’s a strange height on a woman. Not only that, but she’s so huge and look dominating and I won’t be surprised if I were told she’s a boxer or involved in other body building sport as a career. She moved towards me and raised me with her two arms.

“Get up, my dear", she ordered, not giving me the chance to follow the instruction since she’s doing the job of  raising me up already. "Audhubillaah, don’t kneel in front of me, it’s inappropriate and not allowed in Islam. You don’t kneel in front of anyone other than your creator, Allah.”

“Speak for yourself, Umu Tabligh, another woman answered, I didn’t ask her to prostrate before me, she only knelt in greeting and it is part of our custom. So, if you’re comfortable with handshake, no problem but I’ll take what I can get.”

“The fact is, you don’t combine culture with Islam, there’s bound to be a clash.” The huge woman defended.

“We’ll talk about it some other time Iya Adinni, let’s introduce ourselves to the innocent girl and not keep her waiting”.

“Leave it or take, you’re wrong, the tall woman insisted, you’re just too weak to admit it”.

I looked between the two women and concluded that there’s bound to be religious misconception even among those that worship the same God, I saw enough of that in my higher institution.

“I’m Umu Sufyan, but you can call me Hajia, everyone does. The huge woman started the introduction and my partner here, is Umu Adio”. Upon hearing that, everyone laughed and I couldn’t help but join them in laughing.

“Doesn’t the Adio have an Islamic name or is it a preference?” I directed to the other woman but before she could reply, Hajia intercepted.
“Don’t mind her, she thinks that by using her rightful title Umu Anas, people would think she’s Tabligh and that’s her living nightmare. So it’s either we call her Mummy Anas or Umu Adio and we chose the latter for obvious reasons”.

“Will you give me a chance to speak, Umu Adio countered, it’s not my fault I chose to dissociate myself from them, but you see, they tend to pack people from every corner and initiate them into their sect. Some months ago, we were attacked by robbers on the expressway while traveling with some of the newly initiated Tablighs. While our bus was stopped by some highway robbers, one of the Tabligh members got down from the bus, rolled his trousers and folded the long sleeve of his Jalaabia. At first I thought he was just being nervous but imagine my surprise when he lunged at one of the robbers and using the element of surprise, seized his weapons and attacked him with it and before the other criminal could register what was happening, he suffered the same fate. So tell me dear, if he was not a criminal himself, how was he able to master the art of stabbing”. We guffawed at her exclamation.

“Shouldn’t you be grateful he saved your life”, Hajia asked with a look of fake contempt on her face.

“I’m definitely grateful but I couldn’t look at him the same way again. Worst part is that, he prays at the mosque in this area, so i do see him from time to time and I can’t just get the image of his action out of my head”.

“Aye ma le O” (life is difficult). Hajia said.

“Iyawo, let’s leave on time before they bore you with their stories. Ameera interrupted. This woman here, she pointed at Umu Adio, can tell so much stories you won’t realize that you’re growing old.

“Haba, stop exaggerating. Umu Adio countered. Anyway, it’s nice to meet you Iyawo and I’m glad there’s fresh blood here, all these people are old and I’m still thinking of what to do with them”. She said while looking around her and Hajia give her a playful pat on the back.

While we were about to leave, a lady on a wheel chair wheeled herself to the living and demanded what the noise was all about without sparing me a glance. At first I thought she didn’t notice I was there but when I said salaam and she gave me a once over and didn’t bother to reply, I realized that she probably has an issue.

“Kareema, Hajia hollered, won’t you reply her salam?”

“I’ve done that in my mind”. She answered.

“Is salam meant to be answered within?” She queried.

“Don’t tell me what to do, she replied bitterly. Didn’t you Just revert to Islam, so who’re you to instruct on what and what not to do, also, you’re just a wife here. So, I’ll remind you to know your place. She wheeled back inside after her scathing retort.

“I’m sorry about that. Umu Adio apologized. She recently lost her limbs in accident and is depressed about it. Please excuse her behavior, she isn’t usually like that”.

“I understand”. I replied while nodding my head. We bade them goodbye and left their flat without hearing from Ameerah’s twin or the disabled lady again. I entered my room to find Jamal sprawled on the bed while pressing his phone.

“Asalam alaykum Fatee, how’re you doing?” he looked up from his phone.

“Ask me again”, I replied while giving him a pointed glare.

“What have I done?” He asked while sitting upright on bed.

“How could you leave for masjid without waking me for prayer making me look like a fool when I woke up late and everyone was done with their salah already”?

“I did wake you, he replied, twice may I add, but I didn’t realize you didn’t get up”.

“You should have made sure of that before leaving”, I challenged.

“I’m sorry about that, won’t happen again. He got up and hugged me. Am I forgiven?”

“I’ll have to think about it”.

“Come on. Don’t be difficult, it’s too early for misunderstanding”.

“Do you mean we should argue as much as possible later on when we’re married for long?”

“You know that’s not what I meant . He chuckled. They’ve brought in our food; take your bath so we can eat”.
I turned towards where he pointed at and noticed the food placed in the corner of the room. How did I miss that?

“Are you saying I smell? I couldn’t help pointing out. I’m my mother’s daughter after all and I can’t help overanalyzing everything and making trouble”.

“Of course not, I know how troublesome you can be so I won’t egg you on, now go and take your bath”.

I thought of commenting on that but decided to ignore him, changed out of my clothes and headed to the bathroom. After bathing and dressing up, we said our prayers and ate our breakfast in silence. I’m grateful that the morning went smoothly except a tiny inconvenience which was the lady that clearly showed her distaste for me but I’m happy I found allies in my new home.