I swirled my mug of hot date coffee slowly and slowly lifted the mug to take a sip. My mother has just dumped what she feels is a bombshell on me.
"Afrah, you either bring someone to get married to or marry our choice. Wallah, you've stayed too long in this house. Two years is a long enough time to stay a divorced woman." She heaves as she has exerted herself by shouting. I have no response for her ranting.
My mother and my paternal grandmother 'Hajiya Mama' pushed me into my first marriage. Other women have issues with their mother in laws, my mother plots with hers. Now, it's my father and mother's turn to push me into marriage. I laugh internally.
No single man in this part of the world will marry a divorced woman. More so one who forced her husband to divorce her. They can only find me a man that had been married at least twice and won't mind the fact that I will never love him. In fact he shouldn't think about love. Who can love me, who will ever love me?
Love is dead. Love died when Husband number one beat our baby out of my weak body two years ago. Love stinks, love I detest. What is love? Why should I love anyone, except my Lord. My Lord who sent someone to save me. Who sent an angel like human to save me from my hell toaster of a marriage.
My mother is shouting again. Ya Allah. Let this old woman stop screaming, she should stop soiling my ears with rubbish.
When I was marrying Husband number one, I had illusions, illusions set out as to how I wanted my married life to look like. What I had on my bucket list to do for my husband, I was disgraced heavily after I tried one of them in the presence of Husband no 1.
I see my mother's lips moving again and I tune her back in. "Will you marry our choice Afrah?"
I regard her for a short moment before replying her. "Yes, I'll take your choice."
I'm not stupid, I'm willing to leave all these nagging people that I live with. I pick my Chanel shoulder bag from the counter top and walk out of the kitchen.
They can do their worst, I'll be here waiting to see it.
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Dear loves,
I know, I know it's short. In fact very short. But it will be like this till chapter three. I swear the chapters will be longer from then on. I solemnly promise.
However, who's excited. There's gonna do to be a wedding 🍻🎊🎉🎉, y'all know by now that I love weddings. If you want to attend, please signify by stating your aso ebi colors (I love aso ebi too😙😋😎)
Please ehn, tag your friends to come and read. Y'all should please vote and comment. I love you all.
See you next Friday.
Ciao
TheOmoope. 😇
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Soiled #ProjectNigeria ✔️
ChickLitNabeela has never had life easy, never ever. She is at her wits end. Love and living life has never been her known forte. But, what will she do when she gets tangled in a web of deceit and lies woven by her parents? What happens when the very ones...
