“Are these people really going to turn us into insignificant people, to the point of disgracing us like this?” Abbanah was saying. Babban Ciki had already prepared himself and sat down on a chair. Alhaji Karami and Kawu Madu came in, then Yaya Ilyasu. The only thing I kept repeating in my heart was, “Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un. Today my end has come. This whole gathering is because of me.”
“How are you all?” Hajja asked after they finished sitting down.
“The parents of the girl Mus’ab was to marry sent word that they discovered he has an illness, so they have cancelled the marriage.”
I felt a heavy thud in my chest. Out loud I said, “I’m finished,” out of fear that my name might be mentioned and that I would be accused of spreading the news.
“So they want to kill my grandson, separate him from the world? If Mus’ab dies, where will I put my head, where will I put my life?” Hajja cried, holding back tears.
Abbanah said, “Hajja, please be patient. The girl’s parents did not treat us well, and they have shown themselves to be small-minded people, but we will take action.”
He finished with visible heartbreak. My heart shattered at once, seeing Abbanah’s and Hajja’s faces like that. Abbanciki and Alhaji Karami were sweating, Kawu Madu and Yaya Ilyasu stood stiffly. “This is all because of me,” I said to myself.
“So what do we do now?” Hajja continued crying. Ummanah, Maman Ciki, and Aunty (Walida’s mother) also came in. Ummanah’s eyes were red, as though she had cried too.
They sat down, and Hajja repeated everything again through tears.
“Hajja, we will give him another option. If he has someone else, we’ll go and ask for her hand. If not, we can look within the family,” Abbanah said.
“That’s true,” Hajja interrupted. “What he’s suffering now is just crying.”
Abbanah looked at Ummanah and asked, “So what do you suggest?”
She was silent for a few minutes, then sighed deeply.
“Why don’t we join Mus’ab in marriage with Salma, since she is in the house? Sadiya has already had suitors, and as for Salma, I don’t think she even has a boyfriend.”
I don’t know when I jumped through Hajja’s window into the living room. I landed like someone thrown.
“Wallahi, Ummanah, I have a boyfriend! I have someone I love! Even Hajja can ask me—I just finished talking to him on the phone, right in front of Mus’ab. Please don’t marry me to Mus’ab!”
I was completely shaken and forgot where I was. Mus’ab himself felt as if he was hearing noise without understanding; his mind kept repeating, “Ummah, don’t do this to me. I don’t like this girl. I hate her. I don’t even like seeing her.”
Abbanah shouted at me, forcing me to swallow my words. My body trembled, tears streamed down my face, and my heart pounded violently.
“But may Allah reward you for this advice,” Hajja said with a smile. “Shall I be disgraced like this? Allah gave me twenty-seven grandchildren; I cannot be disgraced because of one.”
Abbanciki added, “This advice is good, but the girl herself must be considered.”
“She has a right, but she must obey us,” Abbanah said angrily.
“No, she must be considered,” Alhaji Karami said.
“What if it were your daughter?” Hajja said tearfully. “What would you say?”
Alhaji Karami replied calmly that he treats all the children equally and suggested that if Salma truly has someone suitable, then Mus’ab could be given to Sadiya instead.
“I’d rather have Sadiya,” Mus’ab said faintly, regaining consciousness.
Ummanah replied, “I think Salma is more suitable. Her so-called boyfriend has never even come to greet you. And if Salma doesn’t help her brother, who will?”
Kawu Madu supported Ummanah, speaking about family unity and kinship. Maman Ciki said nothing; she was happy but pitied me, knowing that neither Mus’ab nor I wanted this marriage.
“So when will the wedding be?” Abbanciki asked.
I screamed and collapsed to the floor. I knew once Abbanciki agreed, only God’s intervention could stop it. Mus’ab himself felt like screaming.
“We’ll join it with Sadiya’s wedding in two months,” Abbanah said.
“No,” Hajja insisted. “She’s from the house—two or three weeks is enough, especially since Mus’ab isn’t well.”
“Fourteen days would be better,” Ummanah added.
“Alright, may Allah show us goodness,” Abbanciki said, standing up.
Everyone rose. Maman Ciki noticed I wasn’t breathing and rushed to me. “The girl has fainted!” Water was sprinkled on me. When I came around and saw Ummanah, I screamed and tried to run away. They held me back.
“Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un,” Hajja kept repeating while Qur’anic verses were recited over me. They thought it was spirits; but it was pure hatred and anger burning inside me.
“Please don’t marry me to Mus’ab. I don’t love him. Ummanah, why do you always choose to hurt me?” I cried.
A slap landed on my face. I tried to run again, but Maman Ciki pleaded with me to calm down.
“Let her go to her parents’ house,” Hajja snapped. “But wallahi, Mus’ab is the one you will marry. You will obey, bear him children, and this will become goodness for the Galadima family.”
Rage filled my chest. I didn’t know whether crying or silence would help.
“Get up, let’s go,” Ummanah ordered.
I stood weakly and was led away. Walida and Sadiya ran toward us, crying. I went straight to my room.
On Mus’ab’s side, his mother told him to get up. He collapsed and cried, “Mama, wallahi I will not marry that girl.”
“Wallahi, Mus’ab,” she replied, “even after I die, if you refuse to marry her or mistreat her after marriage, I will never forgive you.”
