Chapter 42

IMPORTANT!!!!!!

As we conclude the merging our chapters, I kindly ask all of you to cast your votes and share your comments. Your input is crucial in finalizing this transition smoothly. Please take a moment to participate and ensure you are supporting me! That is the only motivation I have ❤️

Thank you for your continued dedication.

Credit for XLV goes to my amazing ghost writer 😌

[XXXIX]

Jadwa stood by the front door watching Zara get out of the car as her friends from Jordan came down from the car Jadwa couldn't help but let out a squeal. It was way past Isha and Zarah went to get them from the airport.

Jadwa wasn't one to keep friends, she barely had any or kept in touch with them except for her close university friends Sarah, Aya, and Asma who were all sisters. They have been friends throughout school and they had become just as tight as family. Jadwa was closest to Sarah as she was her age mate and Asma and Aya were really close but closer to Zarah. Sarah is her best friend if she had to assign anyone as that which made her the maid of honor.

They always shared everything on video calls or Snapchat. Sometimes they go days without texting but still keep up with each other's lives.

Jadwa screamed at the top of her lungs and ran straight into Sarah's arms. "Hi bestie" she screamed.

Sarah smacked her and pushed her away giving her away! "You traitor don't ever call me your best friend" she said in her thick Arabic accent.

"We squashed the beef on call" Jadwa laughed moving to hug Asma and Aya.

"We are also very not happy at you" Asma said with a pout.

"Aya what about you?" She fluttered her lashes.

"I will think about forgiving you" Aya said giving Jadwa a bone crushing hug.

Before Jadwa could talk, Hanan came speeding pushing her away to hug the girls.

Standing there watching them, Jadwa realised how much she had been missing them and how much the circumstances of her life had really made her push away her friends.

Guilt washed over her but she decided not to let it consume her with an apologetic smile on her face, she led them into the house while they chit chat along the way.

Ammi was by the door as she welcomed her daughter's friends with warm hugs, they started chatting and screaming before they sat down for the feast Ammi made for the girls.

They ate, laughed, talked for hours before Ammi bid them goodnight.

For over an hour they spent their time reminiscing about their school days, adventures they had in Jordan and the summer holidays they spent in culinary school.

"Let's go I'll show you the boxes I was talking about" Zarah said dragging Aya up.

"We want to see too!" Sarah and Asma said getting up.

Jadwa chuckled as they moved to Ahmad's old room which was now completely filled with Hanan and Jadwa's Lefe boxes.

Jadwa's mind came back to the day of their shoot, after they came back home, the car park was empty a sign that the guests had left and the house was filled with a special incense that still lingered.

She was met with the most beautiful sets of champagne, beige and, almond and white boxes, some were still wrapped with the bows and others were opened, there were also trunks and other boxes kept to the side.

Immediately her presence was sensed by Ammi and her sisters, a loud yodel rang through her ears, not once not twice and many more times.

Jadwa could only do one thing at that moment, which was hiding her incredibly pleasant shock.

She felt the goosebumps as the yodel and chanting of prayers by the women reached her ears.

She instantly felt a wave of emotion, both overwhelming with shyness as her arms got covered in the small bumps prompted by her feelings because it just marked the beginning of the festivities

One of the women, grabbed her hands and sat her on the floor where they all rubbed her head and blessed her and started bringing out each piece of item from the boxes, Jadwa's gaze was casted low, from where her gaze was she saw some of the most beautiful pieces of fabrics, veils, clothings, dresses, shoes, handbags, and so many more things her eyes couldn't catch they were too much for her to notice each piece and they went on and on going through each of the two dozen boxes until they reached the trunk.

The loudest yodel caught Jadwa's ears and body by surprise as the old woman screamed "Amarya mai Arziki! Amaryar mu tayi goshi" the woman chanted again and again.

Jadwa didn't lift her gaze until they finished passing around whatever it was and kept four Gold jewelry sets in front of her.

Jadwa's breath hitched, she was a sucker for gold jewelry and Baba and Ammi had always given them that luxury but the four different set of necklace, bangles, earrings, rings, and necklaces caught Jadwa off guard by first their beauty and second by their sizes.

She had only seen her Ammi or big women on social media wear such big gold jewelry, they were bigger than the one she had worn on the day she had first met him after their Nikkah and the chunky ones she wore just earlier which she was even complaining about them being too big for her age.

She sure is a married woman now and has to live like now, the only thing that went through Jadwa while she sat there was how much Imran had spent on all these things especially the jewelry.

She knew his late father was rich and she knew he was as well, heck when he took her to the family house she could have fit so many mansions in the space they had used to build two humongous ones.

Not to forget the house they were staying at that too on its own, was almost half as big as her parent's house.

Jadwa swallowed her thoughts  right back as she realized they were only over analyzing materialistic things and digging into his financial capabilities in her head. She focused back on the beautiful designs in front of her and couldn't help but smile a little as Hanan jumped up and down along with Zarah.

Jadwa smiled at their happiness as Ammi engulfed her in a motherly hug. "You are so lucky to be going into such a beautiful family" Ammi whispered in her ear and Jadwa smiled.

"No one can ruin it for you okay?" She said holding Jadwa's hands firmly and Jadwa nodded. Ammi had started with the marital lectures long ago and now everytime they spoke it was about her new home or about Imran and ways to be a good wife to him.

Jadwa was brought out of trance by the unexpected jumping of Sarah up and down.

"Jadwa, this is crazy! I might just find a Nigerian husband" she said in her thick Arabic accent making Jadwa laugh out loud.

"My God! This is beautiful" Asma said holding up an abaya while she was completely surrounded by lace fabrics.

"I told her I was going to steal this" Hanan said picking out a gray lace and showing Asma.

Jadwa took the opportunity kneeling down and checking each piece and she was just equally if not in more awe than them.

"Jadwa please, give me your makeup I am sure he'll buy you a new one" Zarah said completely engrossed by the trunk filled with ridiculously expensive makeup.

"No" Jadwa said firmly.

"Please!" Zarah pleaded "please please please"

"I said no" Jadwa dragged.

"I promise I'll do whatever you want, like if you need anything or want anything I'll do it I swear" Zarah promised.

Jadwa looked at her from the corner of her eyes seeing the sincerity in her eyes.

"Say Wallahi" Jadwa said narrowing her eyes at Zarah.

"Wallahi" she said with a grin

"You can take what you want and share with the rest too it's too much for me" Jadwa responded.

"YAY!" Asma and Aya screamed with Zarah choosing whatever they wanted.

"I am sending this to my family group chat" Sarah said snapping pictures of them being chaotic like hungry dogs.

When they were finally done, an hour later Jadwa asked for the pictures and selected the best of them, which was her throwing her head back laughing at something Hanan said and Zarah holding up a huge bunch of Dior lipglosses sending it to Imran.

Jadwa- the day Zarah listens to me has finally come.

She knew he'd be fast asleep by this time so she kept her phone aside and moved her attention to the girls.

"You are all wasting your time here when the real deal is Hanan's" Jadwa said to Sara, Asma and Aya.

"Oh My God! Yes yes yes I saw somethings I wanted there" Zarah said high-fiving Aya.

They moved towards Hanan's boxes which were the same number as Jadwa's with just two boxes.

Jadwa sat on the floor opening each box and bringing out everything for them to see, she was there when they brought it and opening it again had just sent her into another state of awe.

They spent another hour going through all the things, talking ,chatting, dancing and making fun of each other before deciding to retire to bed before two in the morning.

The next day was a blur, it was filled with both Jadwa and Hanan getting their last three sessions of gyaran jiki on the same day.

Their friends were in shock of the intensity of it and how beautiful it made their skin turned out, by the end of the day both Jadwa and Hanan couldn't take it anymore and both slept off immediately after Isha Prayer.

[XL]

HANNANO. (HENNA TRADITIONAL EVENT)

Immediately after praying Subhi, Ammi led Jadwa to her room for the final stage of her pre-wedding preparations. Jadwa settled into the steamer, enduring thirty minutes of heat and suffocation before wrapping herself in a towel and stepping out. The attendants applied various masks to her body, initiating a five-hour ritual of polishing, scrubbing, and treating her skin with different scrubs. A pedicure and manicure followed, and then she was anointed with a special bridal oil. Finally, she sat in the dorot chair, where her entire body was enveloped in a rich, seductive incense smoke.

By the time the process concluded, it was past eleven-thirty in the morning. Jadwa, feeling both drained and pampered, consumed a variety of seven syrups and savored a full local chicken seasoned with aphrodisiac spices.

The henna artist, who Ammi had flown in from Maiduguri the previous night, was hard at work. Hanan, whose gyaran Jiki had started weeks later than Jadwa's, was still among the women performing the intricate designs.

Jadwa slipped into biker shorts and a tube top to avoid staining anything and took a seat on Ammi's private balcony. The house was tranquil; all the guests were at Baba's guest houses, leaving the home for Jadwa, Hanan, their friends, Ammi, and her three sisters. Anaya and Ameerah were expected later in the evening.

Thanks to the henna artist's swift work, both arms—inside and out—were completed in two hours. As the artist progressed on one of Jadwa's legs, reaching almost to her knee, Hanan emerged, marveling at the design.

Jadwa, equally thrilled, endured the discomfort of her aching back as the henna artist meticulously created delicate patterns with natural red henna. Hanan gasped repeatedly, enchanted by the beauty of the designs.

"I love this so much," Jadwa said, her eyes shining with happiness, earning a warm smile from the henna artist.

"This is stunning. You must add his name!" Hanan insisted for the tenth time. The henna artist complied, inscribing "Imran" on Jadwa's right palm before switching to work on Hanan.

While Jadwa's henna was done in vibrant red, Hanan's was a blend of black and red. The henna artist joined another in completing Hanan's legs within an hour. Hanan's bold and beautiful designs deserved any tip Ameer could provide; she looked remarkably beautiful.

Jadwa reclined, feeling famished. Anaya, Zarah, and Ameerah had just returned, having been too preoccupied to assist with the preparations. They took a few pictures and attended to the evening's traditions after Isha.

As Zarah entered with Sara, Asma, and Aya, Jadwa urgently requested food. It was nearly Maghreb, and they were in the process of washing off her henna. Jadwa's naturally warm body temperature had made the henna stain darker than usual.

When the henna was finally removed, it revealed a rich red hue rather than the typical bright orange. She donned a jilbab she found, prayed in Ammi's room, and then made her way to the living room, where she heard Ammi's voice from the stairs.

****

Muhammad Imran finally made his way upstairs with Zarah, eager to see Jadwa after learning she hadn't eaten since morning. The scent of bakhoor and fresh henna filled the house as they entered the living room where Jadwa was resting.

As he arrived, he inadvertently bumped into Hajiya Ammi, who looked both startled and hurried. Her hands flew to her waist, and she fixed him with a stern glare. Imran quickly squatted and greeted her respectfully before she offered him a side hug.

"Don't you know you're not supposed to be here until we take your wife to your house?" Ammi said playfully, causing Imran to scratch his head in surprise.

"I came to greet you, Ammi," he said, managing a sheepish smile.

"You came to greet me, or you came to see Jadu?" she asked, pulling him into a warm hug.

Imran didn't answer; he simply returned the hug and stepped back.

"Jadu is very occupied today. I don't even know if she's washed off her henna," Ammi said, and Imran nodded, though a hint of disappointment lingered on his face. He was eager to see her.

"Sit down; let's talk. There's no seeing Jadu today," Ammi said, settling into a chair.

"Ammi—" Imran began, but she shook her head.

"No, no. I won't hear it. Whatever you want to discuss, you can tell me or Zarah," she said firmly. He sat down, a scowl forming on his face.

Before he could say more, he was distracted by a familiar scent and the sound of footsteps. A smile spread across his face as Jadwa entered the room.

"Ammi, look at my henna!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up with the biggest smile. She stood still, clearly taken aback upon seeing Imran.

Clad in black jeans and a hoodie, Imran's presence was unexpected. Jadwa glanced down at her mustard-colored jilbab, then at Ammi, and finally back at Imran.

"Ina yini, ya Imran?" she managed after a moment, her eyes searching his face.

"Lafiya, Jadwa. How are you?" he asked, leaning back with a relaxed posture.

"Lafiya lau," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of unease.

Ammi shot both Jadwa and Imran an exasperated look.

"Kids these days have no shame, Wallahi! Subhanallah," she complained, standing up. "You are so shameless," she added, directing her ire at Jadwa, who looked puzzled.

"I'll be leaving now, Ammi. Don't be upset," Imran said with a chuckle. Ammi's glare remained fixed on him as she rose.

"Five minutes! I'll give you five minutes before I drag my daughter away," she warned, and Imran responded with an exaggerated grin, causing her to shake her head in disbelief.

"Thank you, Ammi," he said with a smile as she walked away.

Jadwa stood there, trying to process the situation, when Imran suddenly stood up and enveloped her in a tight hug.

"Ughh, I missed you," he whispered. Jadwa smiled shyly, surprised but delighted to see him.

"I missed you too," she replied, hugging him back.

"Did you? I've been calling your phone all morning," he said as he sat beside her.

"I've had henna on since morning. I just took it off," she explained with an apologetic smile.

"Let me see," he said, reaching for her hand. Jadwa hesitated, closing her hand into a fist.

"You're not supposed to; Ammi will kill me," she said.

"Why?" he asked, puzzled.

"Because it's still light. You won't see it properly," she replied. Imran leaned back, releasing her hand.

He watched her in silence, captivated by the glow on her face—a light he couldn't quite describe, an aura that was mesmerizing. She was entirely covered, but her beauty was evident and soothing.

"Show me," he said, his voice low and resolute.

Jadwa looked at him, noticing his relaxed posture and focused gaze. Unable to lift her hijab due to what she was wearing beneath, she slid her hands out from the cutout of her jilbab and showed him her palms.

Imran admired the designs from where he sat, nodding approvingly as she turned her hands to display the other side.

"So beautiful," he murmured. Jadwa lifted her hijab slightly to reveal her decorated feet.

"It will get darker by tomorrow and in the coming days," she said, meeting his intense gaze.

"I love it," he said, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again to see her fiddling with her fingers.

"MashaAllah," he added, and she smiled at the praise.

"Were you really going to leave?" she chuckled, recalling his words to Ammi.

"No way, I was just guilt-tripping her," he said, making Jadwa laugh.

"Madam, I heard you haven't been eating well," he said, folding his arms.

"It's just today. I've had henna on all day," she explained.

"No one could feed you?" he asked, his irritation evident as he made a call.

"Everyone is extremely busy, and Hanan is in the same boat as me," Jadwa said. Imran ended the call as Zarah's footsteps approached.

"Sorry, Ammi said you were together, so I stayed downstairs. Here's the food," Zarah said, placing a tray down and smiling at Imran, who returned her smile appreciatively.

"Thank you, Zarah," he said as she nodded and left.

Imran served Jadwa a plate of Jollof rice, coleslaw, and peppered chicken. They sat in silence as she ate, passing him a bite, which he declined, asking her to eat and handing her a cold glass of water.

He glanced at his watch, then back at her, as she finished her meal. "Make sure you finish it all," he said, gently tapping her head.

"I'll have to go now. I'm glad I saw you," he said.

"Thank you so much for coming," Jadwa said warmly. "I'm happy to see you," she added, blushing at his effort.

"Happy birthday in advance," he murmured, kissing her temple before getting up.

As he left, Jadwa sat there, bewildered. She checked her phone and realized with a start that her birthday was the next day—a detail that had completely slipped her mind amidst the wedding preparations.

Past Isha, Jadwa finished her meal with an unshakeable smile, her satisfaction evident as she set the plate aside. She headed to her room to change, just as Ameerah, Hanan, Asma, Sarah, Aya, Zarah, Anaya, and Ammi entered, buzzing with excitement.

"Let me see! Let me see!" Ameerah cooed, urging Jadwa to sit on the bed and stretch out her arms and legs for them to admire.

"Wowwww!" Anaya exclaimed, her eyes wide with awe.

"This is so pretty, it almost matches your hair," Asma commented, making Jadwa laugh and roll her eyes.

"MashaAllah, these henna artists are so talented," Sarah said, holding Jadwa's arms to examine the intricate designs.

"When we saw Hanan's henna, we almost fainted," Ameerah said dramatically. "This is just as amazing!"

"I can't choose," Anaya said, glancing between the two brides.

They all agreed, chattering enthusiastically about the designs until Ammi stepped in.

"Please, both of you should be downstairs before nine. Guests have started arriving," Ammi said, and they nodded in agreement.

They moved to Ammi's room, where Anaya, Zarah, and Ameerah donned their elegant matching bubu sets, while Asma, Sarah, and Aya wore custom-made bubus from Ammi that looked stunning on them.

Hanan and Jadwa changed into their inner dresses. Ameerah skillfully wrapped a lilac laffaya around Hanan, perfectly complementing her skin tone, before moving on to Jadwa. Jadwa's laffaya was sage green, and Ameerah tied it with precision as Jadwa brushed her straightened hair. They draped their laffaya's over their heads, added a touch of gloss and powder to their faces, and then Ammi and Hajje Amne arrived, spraying them with perfume and burning bakhoor before leading them downstairs.

As they emerged, a chorus of jubilant yodels filled the house. The outside area was beautifully set up, thanks to Ammi. The women began praying and cheering, and aunts and cousins smothered the brides with oil perfumes, cleaned them with okra, and repeated the process amidst laughter and excitement.

Jadwa, though not entirely familiar with Ammi's traditions, knew this would be a long process. Soon, the renowned Chadian singer Al-Kachif began performing, and the aunts and cousins joined in dancing, creating a lively atmosphere. Jadwa and Hanan sat amidst the music until it was time for the unveiling. Ammi performed the honors with tear-filled eyes.

Jadwa glanced at Hanan, who was visibly anxious about the next day's Daurin Aure and dinner, and sent her a reassuring smile. The picture session followed, capturing the intimate event with fewer than thirty women present.

Afterward, Jadwa and Hanan returned to the house. The others continued dancing while Hanan prepared for her final fittings, and Jadwa took some time to rest in her room, playing games on her iPad. The night grew quiet as she scrolled through social media, smiling at how beautifully simple everything looked.

Anaya and Sarah entered with a black dress, Anaya's face pouting. "Can you try this dress on?" she asked, handing it to Jadwa.

"Is everything okay?" Jadwa inquired, taking the dress.

"I don't think it fits me. Try it on, let's see," Anaya urged, not allowing any arguments.

Jadwa tried on the slim-fitting dress. It was sleeveless and came with gloves, which Anaya helped her with. The dress fit like a glove, and Jadwa admired her reflection in the full-length mirror. It was a sultry, breathtaking dress she dreaded having to take off.

"Your brother will have your neck if you wear this out," Jadwa joked, though her tone held seriousness.

"Exactly!" Anaya stomped her foot.

"But the dress is so pretty," Sarah said, plopping onto the bed.

"It's so simple but God, this is perfection!" Aya said, walking in with Asma.

"Why don't you try it?" Jadwa asked, confused.

"I thought it would look great on you. The length is too short for me," Anaya explained. Anaya, being strikingly beautiful, had a figure that complemented many outfits.

"Oh," Jadwa laughed, fixing her hair.

"Sit here," Asma instructed, and Jadwa complied. While chatting about celebrity gossip, Asma did Jadwa's makeup with a soft glam look, while Sarah and Aya styled her hair in a stunning side part.

As Jadwa checked her reflection on her phone, her thoughts drifted to Imran's earlier visit. A smile brightened her face as she wished he could see how lovely she looked. Just then, a notification pulled her out of her reverie.

Ya Imran - HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE ❤️

Her sisters burst into the room, leaving Ameerah behind. "Happy birthday, Jadu!!!" they screamed in unison, their excitement overwhelming.

The living room was filled with balloons, a pink backdrop with her name, and a desert station—an elaborate setup by professionals.

"Oh my God!" Jadwa screamed from the depth of her surprise. It was the last thing she had expected amidst the wedding chaos.

"Are you kidding me?" she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand as tears welled up in her eyes.

"Don't cry," they cooed, and Jadwa sniffed, tilting her head back to hold back the tears.

"This is so beautiful," she said, fighting to keep her composure.

The girls, noticing her emotional reaction, gathered around for a hug.

"You look so pretty. Don't ruin the makeup by crying," Hanan said, and Jadwa nodded.

"It took so much planning to get this right. Don't mess up the makeup," Sarah, Asma, Aya, and Anaya teased collectively.

"You tricked me well," Jadwa said, hugging them.

"How did you plan all this?" she asked, still in shock.

"Well, we got a planner, used your husband's wallet, and this is the only reason he stopped being angry with us," Ameerah blurted out, making Jadwa laugh.

The entire surprise was heartwarming and hilariously planned. They recounted the details of their efforts, and Jadwa marveled at how thoughtful Imran was, appreciating all his efforts for her.

"Come on, let's celebrate!" Zarah cheered, high-fiving Anaya.

They complimented her endlessly before singing the birthday song and cutting the cake. Anaya took on the role of photographer, capturing countless pictures of Jadwa with everyone and some solo shots.

Hanan retired early, her big day approaching, while the others stayed behind, chatting and enjoying their desserts. Jadwa took a moment to send Imran a message.

Jadwa: Albi, thank you so much for staying up to wish me and making this day so memorable. I truly appreciate it xx 😘😘❤️

Imran: You're welcome, sweetheart. Goodnight ❤️

Jadwa smiled at his reply and rejoined the girls. As the night wound down, they all decided it was time for bed, readying themselves for the big day ahead.

[XLI]

The next morning, just after ten, Jadwa stepped into the shower, letting the warm water cascade over her, washing away the remnants of sleep and nerves. She lingered, savoring the soothing rhythm, knowing the day ahead would be filled with emotion and excitement. Emerging from the bathroom, she found the women already bustling about, adhering to the familiar routine they had established, meticulously ensuring her henna, now a deep, rich hue, would remain vibrant.

With deliberate care, Jadwa dressed in a stunning peach-colored Ankara ensemble, expertly tailored into a half-bubu top paired with a sleek, straight skirt. The outfit shimmered with intricate beading that caught the light, adding a touch of glamour. She applied her makeup with a bit more flair than usual, creating a look that was both radiant and refined. A beautiful turban crowned her head, the soft fabric expertly twisted and tucked, with only her baby hairs peeking out, framing her face delicately. The final touch was her favorite perfume, a scent that evoked memories of home and comfort, followed by jewelry that sparkled against her skin. After draping her veil elegantly over her shoulders, she stepped out, ready to face the day.

She found her friends upstairs, gathered with Zarah and Anaya, deep in the throes of their own preparations. The room buzzed with chatter and laughter, makeup brushes flying and fabrics rustling. Jadwa urged them to hurry along, her voice light with amusement as she brushed off their compliments about her appearance with a smile and a wave of her hand.

The house, usually filled with the sounds of a bustling family, was unusually quiet. The men had already left, and the morning sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over everything. Jadwa busied herself with bringing breakfast upstairs, insisting that Sarah and Aya, who had just finished their makeup, eat first. She hovered over them, making sure they ate enough before turning her attention to Anaya and Asma, gently but firmly insisting they too have something to eat before continuing their preparations. Zarah, being no guest in the house, was left to manage as she pleased.

All the sisters, including Anaya, donned the same peach Ankara, their Asoebi for the day, symbolizing unity and shared joy. Anaya, though a guest, was not exempt; Ammi had been insistent that the family wear matching Asoebi, even for Hanan's Lagos events, which Jadwa would unfortunately miss. The three Jordanian sisters, friends from afar, wore a beautiful multi-pastel-colored floral Ankara, blending in harmoniously with the rest of the gathering.

Despite the flurry of activity around her, Jadwa couldn't shake the looming thought of leaving her family and home the next evening. It lingered at the back of her mind, a bittersweet reminder of the inevitable.

She reached Ammi's room, where Hanan was getting ready. The room was quiet, save for the soft rustle of fabric and the occasional clink of jewelry. Hanan's makeup was already done, her face a picture of excitement mixed with a touch of nervousness. As soon as Jadwa entered, Hanan's face lit up with a big smile. Jadwa returned the smile, crossing the room to give her a side hug, her eyes soft with affection as she greeted the makeup artist.

Jadwa couldn't help but marvel at how stunning Hanan looked. Though they shared many similarities, Hanan's jet-black hair and curvier figure provided a striking contrast to Jadwa's slimmer frame. A wave of emotion threatened to overcome her, and she quickly blinked away tears, focusing instead on capturing the moment with pictures and videos.

Before long, Ammi and Ameerah entered the room, ready to help dress Hanan, adorning her with the jewelry that had been passed down from their late mother and Ammi. The air was thick with sentimentality as they helped Hanan into her white gown and veil, the dress fitting her perfectly, a vision of bridal beauty. The room was filled with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and joy, punctuated by the soft click of the camera as they captured the precious moments.

Amidst the preparations, a message from Ahmad popped up in the family group chat, announcing that the knot had been tied. The words felt surreal, but the reality settled in as Ammi praised Allah and offered prayers for the newlyweds. Jadwa, her emotions barely contained, gave Hanan a warm, lingering hug, with Ameerah following suit. Zarah and Anaya burst into the room soon after, their excited chatter breaking the emotional tension, bringing a livelier, more festive atmosphere back into the room.

Soon, the groom arrived, and with careful precision, they led the bride downstairs, her veil covering her face, adding to the air of anticipation. As Jadwa walked beside Hanan, holding her hand tightly, Zarah on her other side, and Ameerah and Anaya close behind, she became aware of a pair of eyes on her. She glanced up, catching the gaze of a man standing next to her brother. His eyes were fixed on her, unwavering, until she offered a small smile and looked away, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks.

Once Hanan was seated, Jadwa and the other sisters moved aside, giving the couple the space they needed. The groom unveiled his bride, and they shared a long, joyful hug, their faces alight with smiles and excitement. Jadwa found herself marveling at the transformation in Hanan, who had been so emotional just moments before, now filled with a radiant happiness.

The house was soon overflowing with guests—family, friends, and well-wishers filling every room. Amidst the crowd, Jadwa bumped into her brother, clad in a crisp white Babban Riga. She greeted him with a warm hug, her heart swelling with affection for her family. As she pulled back, her gaze met Imran's. He stepped forward, greeting her with a friendly hug and mouthing the words, "You look beautiful," making her heart skip a beat.

Ahmad appeared then, snapping a selfie with Jadwa and their brother, before calling Ameerah over to join in. They laughed as they posed, capturing the lighthearted moment before Jadwa took the opportunity to snap pictures of Ahmad and Ameerah together, the soon-to-be parents glowing with happiness. Ahmad then returned the favor, capturing a few family photos as the day's events unfolded.

As the wedding chaos reached its peak, the house buzzed with the sound of chatter, laughter, and the constant flow of people. In the midst of it all, Imran sent her a quick text, letting her know that he and Ahmad were heading out and would meet up later at Hanan's dinner event. The message brought a smile to Jadwa's face, a small moment of calm in the whirlwind of emotions and activity.

[XLII]

The rest of the day passed in a blur. By Maghrib, the house quieted down as guests left to prepare for the evening event.

Four makeup artists arrived to glam up Ammi, Zarah, Ameerah, Anaya, and Jadwa. Jadwa continued with the same bridal makeup artist, while the others had chosen their own. Zarah had arranged for other makeup artists to do Asma, Sarah, and Aya's makeup, who finished early and joined the other bridesmaids and bride for pictures on Baba's side.

As Jadwa sat in her chair, the slow music filled the living room. Anaya and Zarah wore fitted dresses of the same fabric from a top designer, while Ameerah donned a beautiful, modest lace fabric dress tailored to perfectly fit her baby bump, made by the same designer.

Jadwa, however, had been persuaded by the girls to wear a bespoke Deola Asoeke in sapphire shade, chosen by Imran, which she only discovered during her last fitting with Ameerah. Imran had been unhappy with the coverage of her wedding outfits and insisted on paying for everything she wore for the dinner in Abuja.

Ammi also wore a modest custom Asoeke by Deola in a fitting green color.

As Jadwa completed her makeup, the final touches transforming her face into a canvas of elegance, she gazed at her reflection. Her neck, wrists, and ears gleamed with diamond jewelry, catching the light with every movement. The stylist team helped her out of the robe and into her outfit, a breathtaking ensemble that turned her into a vision of bridal beauty.

The Gele was perfectly tied on her head, and her ponytail cascaded down her lower back. She swallowed hard, awed by the stunning transformation. The mirror before her reflected not just her appearance but the beginning of a new chapter in her life.

She slipped into sophisticated, elegant heels, and the makeup artist captured her on video while the stylist took photos. Descending the stairs, she found Imran and Ahmad engaged in conversation. Ahmad excused himself to find Ammi, leaving Imran to take in his bride's radiant presence.

Imran's eyes sparkled with admiration as he approached her, his Babban Riga a muted, complementary shade to her attire. He rubbed his palms together in appreciation. "Where did you get all this beauty from?" he asked, moving closer to take her hands. She blushed under his gaze.

"Turn around," he instructed, twirling her gently with one hand. Jadwa's cheeks flushed deeply as she momentarily forgot about the others in the room.

"You look really handsome," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You are the most beautiful girl in the world, Jadwa. I'm constantly amazed by your beauty," Imran said, pulling her closer.

"That makes the two of us, I guess," Jadwa replied, her smile shy. "You're one hell of a man, you know," she added softly, making him smile.

The photographer, stylist, and makeup artists were ready, and they began capturing the moment. Imran settled on the sofa, inviting Jadwa to sit on his lap. Their faces were inches apart, her hand resting behind his neck and his on her back. In their private bubble, the cameras and the crowd faded away. They whispered and flirted in hushed tones only they could understand. As their noses touched, Imran placed a quick peck on her lips, making her smile shyly as she cleaned his lips with her thumb.

"Before I get too distracted, let's head to the hall," Imran said, eliciting a laugh from Jadwa.

"We should," she agreed, carefully rising and thanking the team. With her matching purse clutched close, they left and climbed into Imran's car, after texting Ammi and the other girls, a plan orchestrated by Ameerah.

Greeting Ibrahim, who was driving, the car ride was filled with Imran taking pictures and selfies of Jadwa, the results turning out perfectly.

Arriving at the hall, Ibrahim stepped out to make calls, leaving Imran and Jadwa alone.

"We might outshine the real couple of the night," Imran joked.

Jadwa laughed and shook her head. "We really might," she agreed, fist-bumping him.

"Since the day I saw you in that shade of blue on Eid, I've been wanting to see you in it again," he said. Jadwa's thoughts raced until she remembered.

"Eid, as in before we got married?" she asked, surprised.

"Yeah, don't be too surprised," he laughed at her reaction.

"You never made a move," she noted, and he nodded.

"You think?" he replied with a grin before changing the subject. "This is your perfect color, I'm telling you."

"I think the same for you! Black, blue, or white," she listed, making him smile.

"You mean every color you've seen me in lately?" he raised an eyebrow.

Jadwa laughed, her shyness creeping up her neck. "That's not what I mean," she said quickly, making him laugh. "Well, maybe," she admitted, and he took her hands.

"It's darker now," he noted, and she nodded.

"It's even better than the one you wore on Eid," he added with a smile. Jadwa's mouth fell open.

"Did I, by any chance, steal your heart that day?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Not at all," he said seriously, making her roll her eyes with a smile.

"You will tell me the truth," she said, just as Ibrahim opened the car door.

"The rest are here; I think you should get down now," Ibrahim said. Imran nodded, and Jadwa thanked Ibrahim before they stepped out.

The bride's entrance was simple yet elegant. Ahmad and Ameerah led the way, followed by Jadwa and Imran, hand in hand, then Zarah, Anaya, and Ammi with her sisters.

The groomsmen entered similarly. Jadwa settled at the table beside Imran, marveling at the hall's transformation. The venue was a dazzling spectacle of crystals, lights, and floral arrangements.

"This is so gorgeous," she exclaimed, unable to contain her awe.

Time flew by as they chatted with Ameerah, Ibrahim, and Ahmad, while Anaya and Zarah busily snapped photos.

The bridesmaids and groomsmen soon made their grand entrance, draped in elegant dresses and Babban rigas. As they settled at their tables, Jadwa stood up and led her friends over to their table. She introduced them to Imran, who greeted them warmly. The girls showered Imran and Jadwa with compliments, their faces alight with wide grins, before returning to their seats.

"They are my only friends," Jadwa said as she sat next to Imran, who took her hand gently.

"I noticed; they seem like amazing friends," he replied, and she nodded, smiling.

Just then, the music changed, drawing everyone's attention. Hanan entered the hall in a breathtaking dress, heavily beaded and tailored to perfection framing her curves. The dress flowed elegantly behind her, and her veil was equally stunning. A collective gasp filled the room as people admired her beauty. Even from her seat, Jadwa could hear the admiration, which made her smile brightly. Ameer held Hanan's hand as they walked in. Jadwa looked at them with genuine affection, praying for them against any evil eye or misfortune.

"Hanan has single-handedly thrown our plan to outshine out the window," Jadwa remarked playfully.

"I can't even argue; they look amazing," Imran agreed, and they both stood to smile at the couple.

The event continued with amusing games, the couple's first dance, and an emotional speech from Ahmad. The grace of Allah and Imran's reassuring words kept Jadwa from breaking down completely.

When the mother-daughter dance was announced for Ammi and Hanan, Jadwa averted her gaze, knowing she couldn't handle the emotional sight. She'd rather watch the video later and let her tears flow in private, a plan she and Hanan had already agreed upon.

Zarah, on the other hand, who had been vocal about the joy of her two sisters leaving simultaneously, was now a complete mess of tears. Despite her emotional state, Jadwa was impressed that her makeup remained flawless, thanks to the setting spray used by her artist. She only needed a slight touch-up.

The drinks arrived, their icy surfaces glistening in the dim lighting as Imran and Jadwa sipped, enjoying the sweet, tangy flavors. Imran kept her engaged, telling stories and cracking jokes, his voice smooth and soothing, effortlessly steering her attention away from the emotional songs playing in the background. When the music shifted to more upbeat, danceable tunes, Jadwa perked up, her mood visibly lightened.

"We need to join them!" Jadwa exclaimed, her eyes bright as she glanced at Zarah, Anaya, Ahmad, and Ameerah, who were already swaying and laughing on the dance floor.

Imran chuckled and handed her a few bundles of crisp, thousand-naira notes, the currency stiff and new, exuding a satisfying aroma of new notes.

As they approached the dance floor, the energy of the crowd enveloped them, vibrant and intoxicating. They joined in, spraying the cash with the rhythmic flair of a practiced gesture, the notes fluttering down like confetti over the couple. Ahmad and Ibrahim appeared beside them, adding to the shower of money before Ibrahim leaned in to whisper something in Imran's ear. Imran nodded, a knowing smile on his face as Ibrahim moved away.

Jadwa hesitated at first, feeling a bit self-conscious with Imran so close, but the lively music and the infectious joy around her quickly dissolved her shyness. When the last note was sprayed, Imran took her hand, pulling her into the dance. She let out a small laugh, feeling the warmth of his grip, and allowed herself to be led.

"I had no idea you were a hot stepper" she said with a smile "You dance like a young rich man," Jadwa teased, her eyes sparkling with playful mischief.

"Because I am a rich young man," Imran replied with a grin. "I'm only old to you," he added, causing Jadwa to throw her head back in laughter, the sound ringing out like a melody of its own.

They danced together, surrounded by the vibrant, swirling colors of the crowd. Ameer, Hanan, Ameerah, Ahmad, Zarah, and Ammi joined in, their collective energy lighting up the room. Ammi eventually excused herself from the dance floor, and Hanan, with a mischievous grin, requested that only Jadwa and Imran stay with her.

The music blasted again, and in a moment that took Jadwa by complete surprise, she watched Imran begin to move with an effortless grace that was both gentle and commanding. His steps were precise, yet they flowed like water, a perfect blend of rhythm and talent. As D'banj's classic "Fall in Love" echoed through the speakers, Imran twirled Jadwa on the dance floor, their voices mingling with the lyrics as they sang along.

Jadwa had always known she was a great dancer, but tonight, with Imran by her side, she felt something new an unspoken connection that made their movements seamless, as if they had rehearsed this dance for months. She wrapped her arms around his neck as the music changed, pulling him closer, while he placed his hands on her waist, guiding her in perfect sync with the beats. He spun her around, her back now against his chest, and as the Afrobeat rhythm deepened, she dropped low, her movements fluid and sensual. Imran wrapped his Babban Riga around her, the fabric swaying with their bodies, creating a cocoon of intimacy on the crowded dance floor.

They moved as one, lost in the music and each other, their hearts beating in time with the drums. Hanan and Ameer, now joined by the rest of the family, began to spray cash on them again, their cheers and excited shouts echoing across the room. The money rained down like blessings, the crisp notes catching the light as they fell, adding to the magic of the moment.

As the song reached its crescendo, Jadwa pulled back slightly, still holding Imran's hand, allowing their friends and the groomsmen to take over the dance floor. But even as they stepped back, their eyes remained locked, an unspoken promise passing between them, that this night, this dance, would be the first of many such moments to come.

"Where is Ibrahim?" Jadwa asked taking a sip of water.

"He left" Imran said showing her the time on his watch.

It was midnight, and the once-crowded venue had emptied, leaving only the sisters, brothers, and close friends of the couple behind. The air was thick with the lingering excitement of the evening, and the after-party soon kicked off. The bright, festive lights dimmed, replaced by soft, moody hues that cast the room in a warm, intimate glow.

Imran sat back in a comfortable chair, watching as Jadwa stood before him, her silhouette outlined by the dim lighting. She positioned herself between his legs, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body. With a gentle touch, she took his face in her hands, her fingers lightly grazing the sides of his neatly trimmed beard. She began to sway to the slow, sensual rhythm of the music, her movements fluid and hypnotic. Imran's gaze was locked on her, his eyes tracing every curve, every detail, as if he were seeing her for the very first time.

Without breaking eye contact, Imran pulled her down onto his lap in one swift, smooth motion, his arms circling her waist possessively. The sensation of his hands gently caressing her back sent a shiver through her. His expression shifted, a darker, more intense look overtaking his features as she continued to move in sync with the music, her body pressed close against his.

Jadwa's hand remained on his face, her fingers softly brushing his cheek, while Imran leaned in, burying his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent of her perfume. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers again with a smoldering intensity.

Time seemed to slow as they remained lost in their own world, the music and the muted conversations around them fading into the background. The connection between them was palpable, a silent understanding that needed no words. Eventually, Jadwa reluctantly rose from his lap, feeling his eyes follow her every move. Imran bit his lip, his gaze searing into her, making her feel the heat of his desire even as she stepped away.

The tension between them was electric, the kind that hung heavy in the air, almost tangible. It was a silence that spoke volumes, filling the space with an undeniable charge that made Jadwa's heart race. The thrill of it sent a spark through her, settling deep in her stomach like a live wire.

"Meet the girls and go back home. It's really late," Imran murmured, his voice low and gravelly, slipping back into the familiar, casual tone he often used with her.

"Okay, goodnight," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She glanced around, realizing they were completely alone in the corner of the room, hidden away from prying eyes. The realization made her pulse quicken, but she turned to leave, trying to steady her breath.

But before she could fully process what was happening, Imran's hand shot out, his fingers curling around the back of her neck, pulling her back to him. His other arm wrapped around her waist, holding her firmly in place as he leaned in, his lips capturing hers in a sudden, intense kiss. The world around them seemed to blur as he kissed her with a passion that took her breath away. Instinctively, her hands found their way to his chest, her fingers clutching at his Babban Riga as she tried to keep up with the rush of emotions flooding through her.

Imran kissed her for what felt like an eternity, pouring every ounce of his desire into the moment before finally pulling back, his breath ragged. He stared deeply into her eyes, a small, satisfied smirk playing on his lips before he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, her heart pounding in her chest, and her mind spinning from the whirlwind of emotions.

The tension in the air was suffocating, yet it left her with a sense of exhilaration, a thrilling, electric spark that lingered long after he was gone.

[XLIII]

CONVEYANCE.

The next morning, Jadwa woke up early. The women of the household, including Ammi, gathered in her room. They prepared for the sacred dukhan ritual, enveloping her body in the sensual steam of bakhoor and oils, as tradition dictated. The air was thick with the sweet, earthy scent, a fragrance that seemed to seep into her very skin. Once the ritual was complete, they began braiding her hair in the intricate bridal style, the kitson Amarya—tiny braids so delicate they seemed to hold a lifetime of care and love within each twist.

As they worked, the women recited their repetitive but essential lectures on marriage. Their voices droned on, but each word was weighty, their advice carrying the gravity of generations. When the braiding was done, Jadwa joined her sisters and friends for a brief respite. She donned her jilbab, the fabric cool and comforting against her skin, and then made her way to Baba's room. She found him there, on his prayer mat, absorbed in his devotions.

She entered with a soft "Salam" and a weak smile. He looked up and patted the space in front of him, inviting her to sit. He didn't speak; he simply continued to pray. The room was silent except for the low murmur of his voice, calling upon Allah's blessings. As the prayers enveloped her, Jadwa felt the dam break, and she began to sob, clutching him tightly. When she noticed a tear slip from his eye, she gently wiped it away, pulling him into an even tighter embrace.

"Jadu, my daughter," he began, his voice a soft rumble that seemed to resonate in her very bones, "whatever I tell you now is merely an addition to what your Ammi and aunties have already told you. You see, Muhammad is like a son to me. I feel such peace knowing you are married to him because I know who he is, where he comes from. Muhammad will treat you well; he will respect and love you. I want your heart to be at peace, knowing Allah has your back at all times, my daughter. Allah will never let you down. This is only the beginning of your beautiful life."

His words were like a balm, yet they broke her heart, and she cried silently in his embrace. His voice cracked as he added, "As you promised, please go into this with the purest intentions and give it all you can. I love you, and you will always be my baby Jadu."

At that, Jadwa's resolve shattered completely. Baba rubbed her back, soothing her with fatherly love until her sobs subsided. She left his room, promising to come by and bid him farewell before she departed.

Jadwa wasn't ready to face Ammi—not yet, not ever. She knew she could never fully prepare for the emotions that would flood her when Ammi finally spoke to her. So instead, she sat down and poured her heart into a letter. The words came easily—honest, vulnerable, and filled with love. She promised to honor her marriage, to uphold the values Ammi had instilled in her. As she finished the letter, her tears flowed freely, marking the page with the raw truth of her emotions. She couldn't bring herself to read it over; it was too honest, too revealing of everything she had kept locked away. She folded the letter and placed it beside her on the bed.

By noon, Zarah, Hanan, and Ammi returned to her room, ready to dress her. The dress they brought was stunning—fitted, maroon, with a daring open back held together by a single clip at the neck. The monochromatic beading shimmered subtly, catching the light in all the right places. Zarah brushed Jadwa's brows and applied a touch of lip balm, keeping her face bare to highlight her natural beauty.

The room was filled with a profound silence, a peaceful warmth that made Jadwa's heart ache with nostalgia. As Hanan clasped the gold necklace around her neck—a piece from her lefe that stopped just beneath her bust—Jadwa found herself replaying the best parts of her childhood, memories saturated with Ammi's love and her sisters' companionship. The necklace was heavy, both in weight and significance, but it sat beautifully on her, like a mantle of responsibility she was finally ready to bear.

Ammi helped her with the bangles, then swapped her anklet for a chunky one that had belonged to Ammi herself. When they were finished, Ammi sat Jadwa on the edge of the bed, spraying her with perfumes. The scent mingled with the lingering bakhoor, creating a heady mix that filled the room. Hanan packed the Laffaya—a cloak that had been infused with bakhoor for weeks—that Jadwa would wear over her dress later.

"Jadu," Ammi began, her voice soft but firm as she made Zarah and Hanan sit beside their sister, "there's nothing left to say that I haven't already told you. We've prepared you in every way possible. I know the upbringing I gave you, I know who you are as a person, and I know you will build the most beautiful home. My only advice is to build your life on one thing—Islam. Everything else comes second. When you build the walls of your home on the teachings of Islam, nothing can tear them down. It's not about culture, traditions, or even love. Love is important, yes, but consideration is what holds a marriage together. Consider your husband in everything you do, and everything else will fall into place. Look at him with understanding and compassion, my Jadu. He is your husband, and we all know how much Muhammad cares for you."

Jadwa let her tears fall, her chin tucked into her neck as Ammi continued, "He will take care of you, love you, and protect you—if you let him. Do not deny him his rights, Jadu. We've sung this song in your ears a thousand times. Respect him, fulfill your responsibilities, and he will do the same for you."

Ammi held her hands tightly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Whatever you do, avoid anything that would anger Allah or cause His Angels to curse you. Please, my daughter, stay away from such things."

She pulled Jadwa into a tight embrace, and in that moment, the aunties entered the room. Jadwa cried silently in Ammi's arms, whispering promises to heed her words. When she found the opportunity, she slipped the letter into Ammi's hand, unable to speak the words she had written.

For the next hour, everyone shared their advice. Asma, Aya, and Sarah were openly weeping, while Zarah and Hanan shed their tears quietly. The air was thick with emotion, each word spoken weighing heavily on Jadwa's heart.

"Ameerah, say something," one of the aunts urged, and Ameerah smiled, taking Jadwa's trembling hands as she sat on the floor beside her.

"Jadu na," Ameerah began, her voice thick with emotion as she fought back tears, "they have said it all. Every single one of us here—none of our marriages are perfect. Not Ammi's, not mine," she said, eliciting a chorus of laughter and agreement from the women. "We all face challenges in our homes. What makes a marriage successful isn't the rosy, romantic moments; it's how you overcome obstacles and stick together. That's what creates a true, happy, and lasting marriage."

The room fell silent as Ameerah continued, "I'm not saying this just because Ya Muhammad is my cousin. Wallahi, he cares for you deeply. He respects you. There's nothing you could ask for that he wouldn't give you, except for what he cannot have."

Tears slipped from Ameerah's eyes as she spoke. "He will be a great husband for you. But remember, Jadwa, everything you want and expect from him, you must also be willing to give. Fulfill your responsibilities as you would want him to, respect him as you would want him to respect you, love him the way you want to be loved, and speak to him the way you want to be spoken to."

Jadwa nodded, dabbing at her tears with the tissue Anaya handed her.

Lastly, whatever you do in marriage, do it for yourself. Any changes you make—whether physical or mental—should be for your own well-being first, not to please others," she said, her voice firm with wisdom. "The transformations that occur after marriage aren't about pleasing men or merely looking the part of a married woman. We do it for Allah, for ourselves, and because life has changed. You want to be a reflection of goodness for your children and your home. Every woman changes after marriage, and so do the men," she continued, her gaze gentle yet piercing.

Ameerah paused, letting her words sink in, then resumed, "I know how great your friends are, and I trust you won't start any new friendships unless they are with good people. Remember, Jadu, whatever people say outside is none of your business as long as you're doing everything for Allah's sake, for yourself, your children, and your husband," she concluded, her voice softening as she reached out to Jadwa. The embrace that followed was long and filled with unspoken emotions, the kind that only years of shared memories can create. Anaya joined them, followed closely by Zarah and Hanan, the circle of support tightening around Jadwa.

The air in the room was thick with emotion as an aunt announced that the cars were ready. The moment of departure had arrived. Jadwa, her heart heavy, turned to Hanan and embraced her, tears spilling freely from both of them. The sobs that escaped Hanan's lips were heart-wrenching, a raw outpouring of sisterly love and sorrow. They clung to each other as if letting go would mean losing something irreplaceable. It was Sarah who gently broke them apart, knowing that the longer they held on, the harder it would be to let go.

Jadwa then turned to Ammi, giving her a quick but heartfelt hug, kissing her cheeks with the reverence only a daughter can have for her mother. The goodbye was brief, but the weight of it hung in the air, almost tangible.

Zarah, on the other hand, was inconsolable. Anaya, Asma, and Aya circled her, trying to soothe her, but her cries were the loudest, her pain the most visible. She couldn't bring herself to look at any of her sisters, and the sight of her distress only made Jadwa and Hanan's tears flow more freely. Jadwa and Hanan moved to comfort her, their hands rubbing her back as they whispered soothing words, trying to bring some peace to her troubled heart.

"You'll ruin the expensive makeup I gave you, and I won't give you the palette I promised you," Jadwa managed to say, her voice cracking with emotion. The attempt at lightening the mood only made Zarah cling to her more, her sobs intensifying. They let the youngest sister have her moment, understanding that this was her way of saying goodbye.

After bidding a final, tearful farewell to Hanan and Ammi, Jadwa allowed Ameerah, Zarah, and her friends to guide her downstairs. The house, which had been filled with so much noise and activity, now seemed eerily quiet, as if it too was holding its breath in anticipation of what was to come. At the door, Baba was waiting, his face etched with a mixture of pride and sorrow. He blessed her, his words a final benediction as he bid her goodbye for the last time.

[XLIII]

The car ride was a blur of emotions. Jadwa's tears had ceased, but her heart was still heavy, her thoughts swirling with the enormity of the day. When they arrived at their destination, the sight of the enormous mansions and the grand fountain in front of the family house brought her back to the present. Anaya helped her out of the car, and they were soon greeted by Fatima. The house was bustling with people, the noise of conversation and laughter filling the air until it abruptly quieted as they entered.

Fatima, ever the gracious host, welcomed Jadwa warmly, helping her to close her face with the cloak before leading her into the house. The living room was full of elderly women, their eyes filled with kindness and curiosity. Jadwa was seated on the floor in the middle of the room, her posture respectful as the women prayed for her, their voices a chorus of blessings and well-wishes.

"Maman Rahma, please go ahead and unveil our bride," an elderly woman's voice rang out. Jadwa's heart raced as she was gently moved closer to the women. The unveiling was done with care, the woman's hands steady as she lifted the cloak to reveal Jadwa's face.

Jadwa kept her gaze lowered, her eyes fixed on the floor as the women around her erupted into cheers and praises. They admired her beauty, their words a balm to her nervous heart. The woman who had unveiled her didn't say anything or gesture for her to sit beside her, so Jadwa remained where she was, and awkward feeling both exposed and uncomfortable by the layers of tradition surrounding her.

It wasn't until Hajiya arrived that Jadwa was finally brought to her feet. "Tabarakallah, mashaAllah! Look at the angel Muhammad has brought into our family," Hajiya exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine admiration. The room erupted into more cheers and yodels, the women's voices blending together in a harmonious celebration.

"MashaAllah! He really chose a beautiful wife," another woman agreed, her tone warm with approval.

"Where did he find this beautiful girl? I need to see her sisters to choose one for my son!" another woman joked, causing a ripple of laughter to spread through the room.

"Our son is truly lucky, and we are just as lucky to have you," another woman added, her words accompanied by more prayers for Jadwa and her marriage.

Asr prayer was approaching, so Fatima took Jadwa upstairs, introducing her to her sister-in-law first. "This is Rahma, you've met before," Fatima said with a smile. Jadwa nodded, returning Rahma's slight smile and accepting the side hug that was offered.

"You're so pretty," Rahma whispered in her ear, and Jadwa smiled shyly, her cheeks flushing with warmth.

"And you're so gorgeous," Jadwa replied honestly, noticing the elegance Rahma embodied despite her simplicity. Rahma resembled Anaya, though she was taller, and carried herself with a grace that was both natural and refined.

Next, Fatima introduced her to Rahma's maternal cousin, Khayrah, who stood out with her tight-fitting skirt and blouse, her full face of makeup, and a loosely draped veil that barely covered her cleavage. Khayrah's appearance was striking, her curves accentuated by her attire. Jadwa felt a bit out of place as she smiled awkwardly, offering a polite hello, which was returned with a nod and a brief smile.

Jadwa removed her Alkyabba and performed her prayers in Fatima's room before Ameerah entered, carrying a tray laden with food. She fed Jadwa with her own hands, insisting she eat everything, including the aphrodisiacs Jadwa had hoped to avoid.

"Escape? You shameless girl," Ameerah teased, her tone playful yet firm.

"I'm so tired of taking it," Jadwa groaned, her protest half-hearted.

"The day you call me asking for more, I'll deny you, I promise," Ameerah replied, making sure Jadwa finished every last drop of the syrups she had brought.

As Maghrib approached, Ameerah wrapped the maroon Laffaya around Jadwa, draping it perfectly to accentuate her curves. She removed Jadwa's head wrap, leaving only the Laffaya to cover her hair. The transformation was stunning, the rich fabric adding an air of regal elegance to Jadwa's appearance.

"You look so beautiful," Ameerah said, her voice filled with genuine admiration. Jadwa smiled, thanking her.

"You look stunning, honey," Sarah added, kissing her cheeks, with Asma and Aya following suit.

"Thank you, girls. I hope you're having a good time," Jadwa said, her voice soft but sincere.

"We really are," Asma responded, her excitement palpable.

"Remember, our flight is in a few hours. Let's get moving so we can head to the airport," Zarah reminded everyone, her tone practical. They had chartered a plane to Lagos for Hanan's remaining events, and once they conveyed Jadwa to her new home, they would be off.

Jadwa's friends, along with Anaya and Rahma, headed downstairs as the groom's friends arrived to escort them to his house. The descent felt symbolic, as if each step was bringing Jadwa closer to a new life. Once downstairs, she bid farewell to the aunties who had accompanied her, and Fatima led her to say goodbye to his family, who had so warmly received her.

As the cars pulled away, Jadwa felt a mix of emotions excitement, fear, and a deep sense of responsibility. But beneath it all, there was a quiet strength, a certainty that no matter what the future held, she was ready to face it with grace and faith.

[XLIV]

As soon as Jadwa got into the car, a wave of peace washed over her, though it mingled with the nerves that clung to her. The drive was brief, and before she knew it, they had arrived at the house. She stepped out of the car, a prayer softly uttered on her lips.

The house was illuminated with soft lights that guided them along the pathway, leading inside where the sounds of men's voices reached her ears. Just before she set her right foot across the threshold, Jadwa whispered a silent prayer. Zarah, holding her hand firmly, led her into the house.

Upon entering, Jadwa was enveloped by a sweet, inviting fragrance. Zarah helped her sit down beside a man—her husband, Muhammad. The realization settled in her heart, grounding her in the moment.

Ibrahim, whose voice she recognized, began praying for the newlyweds, and the other men followed with words of well-wishes and prayers.

"Unveil your bride," Rahma prompted her brother.

"No, I'm not unveiling her for anyone," Muhammad responded, his tone firm and serious, causing the men to burst out laughing.

"Are you sending us away?" Ibrahim asked in disbelief.

"Yes, I am," Muhammad replied confidently. "Thank you for coming, but you can all leave now." The girls exchanged shocked looks while the men laughed heartily.

"Muhammad, I cannot believe you," one of his friends said, shaking his head.

"Whether you unveil her or not, remember you must give us our token for 'siyan baki,'" Anaya said loudly, her hands on her hips in mock indignation.

"Lily, aren't you on the groom's side?" Sadiq asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. Under her veil, Jadwa couldn't help but smile.

"Me? Since when? I'm on the bride's team, thank you very much," Anaya replied, her tone playful.

"Subhanallah," Ibrahim laughed.

"Call your price, please. We're running late for the airport," Ahmad said, his voice teasing.

"Since you men are in a rush, we're only asking for a few million," Ameerah interjected, batting her lashes at her husband.

They bantered back and forth for a few minutes, with Imran growing visibly tired of the exchange.

"Sadiq, please give these girls their money," Imran finally said, standing up and turning his back on the men to ignoring their further teasing.

The girls cheered loudly as Muhammad finally conceded and unveiled Jadwa. A small smile tugged at her lips when her eyes met his briefly before he covered her face again, silencing the men's cheers with a stern glare.

"Approved, approved!" Ahmad shouted, laughing with the other men. "We'll send you the money, girls," he said, and Asma high-fived Zarah in celebration.

Ahmad moved forward and hugged his sister, prayed for her marriage and asked her friends to take her upstairs.

Sarah helped Jadwa to her feet, leaving the men downstairs, and Anaya led them upstairs to a room. Jadwa recognized it as Muhammad's room. Ameerah guided her to sit on the bed, and they all gathered around to pray for the couple before embracing her in a series of warm hugs.

"We'll be back in a week," Sarah whispered as she hugged her best friend tightly. The others bid Jadwa farewell as well, while Ameerah, following Muhammad's earlier gesture, carefully covered Jadwa's face once more.

Jadwa leaned back against the headboard, her knees drawn up to her chest. The rich, maroon monochromatic Laffaya draped elegantly around her, the intricate beading catching the light and providing her with a small distraction in the quiet moment. She marveled at the craftsmanship of the garment, her thoughts briefly drifting to the skill of whoever had created it.

Then, she heard his footsteps. Her heart sank into her stomach at the gentle sound of the doorknob turning. The reality of the moment settled in as she braced herself for what was to come.

[XLV]

Muhammad Imran entered the room quietly, his heart racing in his chest as his eyes fell on his bride. She was sitting on the bed, her form mostly concealed by the rich, dark red fabric draped over her, only her delicate hands and feet visible beneath its folds. The sight of her there, in their home, in his room, filled him with a profound sense of awe and excitement, a moment he had longed for with every fiber of his being.

He stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate, as if approaching something precious and fragile. As he reached the bed, he gently sat before her, his hands moving slightly with emotion. With a reverence that spoke volumes, he leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her joined feet, the beauty of the dark-stained henna against his lips, contrasting with the warmth of her skin. The intricate designs, laced with tiny, sparkling toe rings, made her feet look like a work of art, a masterpiece he was privileged to touch.

Jadwa stiffened slightly at his touch, her breath catching in her throat. Imran felt it, the slight tension in her body, and with a soft smile, he reached up, his fingers finding the edges of the fabric that veiled her face. Slowly, he lifted it, revealing the beautiful braids that framed her face, each tiny strand meticulously done, adding to her regal appearance.

He took her hand in his, marveling at how small and soft it felt in his grasp. He smiled at her, his heart swelling with affection as he turned her palm upward, revealing the intricate henna designs that adorned her skin. His eyes brightened slightly as he spotted his name woven into the delicate patterns, and without hesitation, he brought her palm to his lips, placing a gentle kiss there, as if sealing a silent promise between them.

Jadwa's heart fluttered as she watched him, her fingers curling around his as she leaned forward, mirroring his action by placing a shy, delicate kiss on his hands. The simple gesture spoke volumes, a silent communication that passed between them, expressing all the emotions they couldn't put into words.

Imran, feeling the warmth of her affection, couldn't resist pulling her into his arms, enveloping her in a tender embrace. He pressed his lips to her forehead, a gesture filled with love and protection. "This color," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, "it looks even more beautiful on you." She blushed, her cheeks warming under his gaze as she snuggled deeper into his arms, feeling the comforting strength of his hold. "I love it," he added, his voice soft yet firm.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible, the shyness evident in her tone. Imran took his time, letting his eyes trace over every detail of her face, as if committing it to memory. When he was finally satisfied, he smiled and spoke gently, "We should pray." Jadwa nodded, and he helped her to her feet, their hands still entwined.

"Can you show me my room? I need to get out of this," she said, her voice laced with a mix of exhaustion and anticipation. Imran squeezed her hand gently, guiding her through the door that led to her room.

"Take your time," he reassured her with a warm smile. "I'll wait for you there." She smiled back, appreciating his patience, and watched as he left the room.

Jadwa took a moment to breathe in the atmosphere of her new room, the elegant décor perfectly blending luxury, femininity with comfort. The spaciousness of the room was almost overwhelming, every detail meticulously chosen by both her and the interior designer, reflecting the care that had gone into preparing this space for her. She mentally scolded herself for getting lost in the beauty of the room and quickly moved to the bathroom, where she took a refreshing shower. The warm water cascaded over her, washing away the remnants of the day's events, leaving her feeling renewed.

After wrapping herself in a towel, she walked into the closet, hoping to find something modest to wear. Her eyes scanned the shelves, but all she found were heavy laces, ankaras and the rest were locked boxes and a single garment an elegantly draped, tight-fitting white dress laid out with a note instructing her to wear it for the night. Alongside it was the most ornate bridal lingerie she had ever seen, all too revealing for her current mood.

Jadwa's face flushed with embarrassment, recognizing Ameerah's prank immediately. The familiar scent of the bakhoor that Ameerah had shown her a week ago lingered on the garments, a clear giveaway. Who even does this these days? Jadwa thought, her cheeks burning with both irritation and amusement. She sighed, accepting her fate, and carefully put on the dress and lingerie, feeling more exposed than ever.

Once she was dressed, she applied her body care products, layering on her favorite oils and perfumes until she felt ready. Finally, she donned a full-length jilbab, which she found folded nearby, and made her way to Imran's room. He was sitting on the bed, engrossed in something on his phone, but as soon as he saw her, he smiled, a look of pure affection in his eyes. She returned his smile, feeling a warmth spread through her as he got up to lead them in prayer.

The sense of peace that washed over Jadwa as they prayed was profound, a moment of spiritual connection that filled her with a deep, abiding calm. When they finished, Imran turned to her, his eyes soft yet full of purpose. He gestured for her to come closer, and she did, her heart racing as he placed his hand gently on her head, murmuring a prayer for her. He then leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, followed by a soft peck on her lips, leaving her breathless.

They sat together on the prayer mat, wrapped in each other's arms, the silence between them comfortable and filled with unspoken understanding. After a few moments, Imran broke the silence, his voice gentle. "Let me go downstairs and lock the doors," he said, and she moved away slightly, nodding.

"Okay," she responded softly, watching as he left the room. Once alone, Jadwa realized she had left her phone in her room. Seizing the opportunity, she hurried back to retrieve it. Upon entering her room, she was relieved to find a large veil in the closet, which she quickly wrapped around herself in after getting out of the jilbab before sitting on the edge of the bed. Distracted by the pictures Sarah had sent her, Jadwa couldn't help but smile and laugh at the images from her little birthday party.

She was so absorbed in the photos that she didn't notice Imran until he cleared his throat at the door. Startled, she looked up to find him leaning against the doorframe, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he changed from his Jallabiya to a lose pants and white sweatshirt.

"What's so exciting?" he asked, his tone light and curious.

"Just looking at some pictures," she replied, returning his smile.

He moved closer, sitting next to her on the bed. "What pictures?" he asked, peering over her shoulder. Jadwa showed him the birthday photos, and he nodded approvingly.

"I like these ones," he said, taking her phone and sending the pictures to himself. "Do you have our pictures from yesterday?" he asked, looking at her expectantly.

She shook her head. "No, but I'll ask the stylist to forward them to me, InshaAllah," she said, and he nodded, his arm sliding around her back in a familiar, comforting gesture.

They spent a few minutes scrolling through social media, laughing together at the videos of Zarah crying, which Anaya had posted. "She kept bragging about not shedding a tear because she's happy we're leaving," Jadwa laughed, the sound light and carefree.

Imran chuckled, shaking his head. "You don't want to hear what she tells me. I knew she was just bluffing," he said, his laughter mingling with hers, the room filled with the warmth of shared joy.

As their laughter subsided, a comfortable silence settled between them. Imran began tracing gentle circles on her arm, the light touch sending a pleasant shiver down her spine. The memory of the tension between them from earlier in the evening crept back into Jadwa's mind, making her heart race with a mix of anticipation and nerves.

"I want to see your braids," Imran said suddenly, his voice a low murmur. Before she could react, he reached out and gently removed the veil from her body. His eyes immediately focused on her hair, then slowly moved to meet hers, silently asking for her permission to look at her more fully. When a shy smile tugged at the corners of her lips, he took it as a sign of consent and allowed his gaze to trail down her figure.

Jadwa felt his eyes on her, the intensity of his stare almost tangible. It made her feel as if he were undressing her with his gaze alone, each look igniting a spark of heat beneath her skin. Nervously, she reached for her braids, pulling them forward in an attempt to cover the exposed skin of her chest.

Imran's eyes darkened with desire as he watched her movements. He ran a hand over his face, exhaling deeply as if trying to maintain control. She noticed the obvious bob of his Adam's apple twice as he swallowed hard, a clear indication of the effect she had on him.

"Don't do that," he said softly, his voice husky with emotion. In one swift move, he grasped her hands, gently pulling them to the side, freeing her hair from her grasp. He took the braids in his hands, his touch gentle but firm. His fingers traced the path of her braids, starting from the crown of her head and slowly working their way down to the ends. The intimacy of the gesture sent a shiver through Jadwa's body, her heart pounding so loudly she wondered if he could hear it.

As his hands reached the back of her neck, his touch light yet possessive, their eyes locked. The intensity in his gaze made her breath catch, the world around them fading into insignificance. He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a feather-light kiss that made her entire body tingle. The kiss was soft at first, exploratory, as if he was savoring every second. Then, as if a dam had broken, he kissed her again, more deeply, taking full control.

Jadwa melted into him, her inhibitions slipping away with each press of his lips. Her hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she kissed him back, their mouths moving together in perfect harmony. His hands began to roam, exploring the curves of her body with a tenderness that made her feel cherished and desired. Every touch was deliberate, every caress sending waves of pleasure coursing through her.

When her hand rested against his chest, she felt the solid muscle beneath, his heart beating as rapidly as hers. Imran's breath hitched, and without breaking the kiss, he lifted her from the bed, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. The sensation of being so close to him, of feeling his strength and warmth, was overwhelming, and a soft moan escaped her lips.

He settled back onto the bed with her on his lap, their bodies pressed together as he continued to kiss her, each movement more urgent than the last. His hands gripped her hips, guiding her as she moved against him, the friction igniting a fire deep within them. Jadwa's mind was spinning, lost in the sensations and the heat of their connection. She had never felt anything like this before- this raw, powerful desire that seemed to consume them both.

Imran's lips left hers for a moment, only to trail kisses down her neck, his breath hot against her skin. He paused at her collarbone, his fingers playing with the strap of her slip dress. "I'm glad it found its way here," he murmured, his voice deep and husky, sending a thrill through her. His words brought her back to the present, but only for a moment, before she was swept away again by the sensation of his fingers

he brought her out of her thoughts with his now husky sexy tone, as always, he reached over and touched his finger very delicately to the edge of one of the lacy strap, near her collarbone, but instead of pushing it down and off her shoulder as she thought he would, he ran his finger slowly along then upper edge of her bra in front and then traced it all the way down around the bottom. She watched his face while he did this. It seemed more intimate than kissing him had. By the time he'd finished outlining the whole thing, he'd barely touched her yet she felt the most scorching burn of heat all over. She was trembling with anticipation, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

He groaned softly, the sound vibrating against her lips as he captured them once more in a deep, searing kiss. Jadwa moaned in response, the intensity of the moment overwhelming her. Her hands found their way into his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. She felt him shift beneath her, and before she knew it, he was standing, holding her against him as if she weighed nothing.

Jadwa barely registered the change in position, too lost in the sensations to notice much beyond the feel of his lips on hers and the way his body moved against hers. In a heartbeat, he carried her into the privacy of his room, the lights dimming as he flicked off the main switch, leaving only the soft glow of the bedside lamp to bathe them in a warm, intimate light.

He laid her gently on the bed, his eyes searching hers as if asking for permission to continue. She nodded, her heart racing in her chest. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice tender yet edged with desire making her nod.

"Use your words my love" he said making Jadwa swallow hard, her throat dry, but her resolve firm.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I am all yours."

Imran's eyes darkened with intensity at her words, he cupped her face in his large hands, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks. He murmured a quiet dua in her ear, the words soothing and sacred, grounding her in the moment. Then, with a look of pure adoration, he leaned in, his lips brushing against her forehead in a gesture so tender it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

Jadwa's heart raced, the reality of the moment settling over her like a warm blanket. She was his completely, utterly his and the thought filled her with both excitement and a deep, profound peace. She trusted him with every part of her being, knowing that this moment, this connection, was as sacred as the knot tied between.

He claimed her body, soul and entire being just as she claimed his.