Maiden's Cry

On one of those days, the sun was bigly up the horizon of the day to the south; it was around a rather calmly sunny Sunday in the month of May when our corn would come in its way with those disgustingly ogrish flies with whose boozing chats would wake a stony dead and bites are as itchy as hell... Before I would note it as I was reminiscing about my usual fantasy of a fact I would want to be recollected of me in future to come as to my ambition professionally, the day had paced quickly somehow into its twilight.
“Go, get me some water!” Exclaimed, my mum from the back of the hut fetched me back with the touch of lightning into reality!
I understood I had to understand to stand immediately, so I stood immediately lest she would cut through our thatched hut with her dried cane in her left hand to remind me what she echoed in the first place. It is my routine twice weekly though, to go down the stream to get some water for the use of the house whenever or provided my younger brother had left with dad to the farm.
When I got to her, I communicated with her in our local tongue saying “o om it ogb...” Meaning, I understand what she had asked me to do. And she nodded joyfully I am responsible with some costly smile rolling out of her flatly charming lips...
I picked up my clay pot to my left side and headed for the stream. The stream was a ten kilometre journey from my house; oh! How I wished the journey could last for eternity. As the point is, I think vast on purpose whenever I am taking a timeout working like such.
....
Children, they say are blessings from Allah, thus, they must obey every wish of their parents in order for these blessings to rain upon their family. I was born into this so called PHILOSOPHY of life. Every now and then, my parents ensure I memorise this belief thereby making it my favourite quote. I recite it every morning just as I do the Arabic. I went to primary school just like every girl in my age grade and excel greatly in my studies. Being a brilliant chap got me favoured by both my headmaster and my teachers. My parents always rejoice whenever I bring my report sheet home and it’s always a celebration galore in my home since I always come first in every class I’m in. However, I am inconclusive and indecisive about few things I was beginning to see around us then as I began to grow in time.
I noticed every time I bring my report sheet, men and women in our very pastoric milieu always come in numbers to felicitate with my father especially. I never read any meaning to this, just celebration, I thought. So it happened one day when I met Balikis, one of my childhood friends at the stream weeping profusely. I moved to pacify her and inquire what the problem was.
“My... my... my...,” persistently breaking in tone pathetically... “...parents want me to be married off to one Alhaji...!” It sounded funny so I laughed –“ah ah ah...” – boisterously because I thought marriage is just for the adults since Balikis is just a teenager who just reached her puberty stage.
Balikis further explained that her parents said that she needs to be married so as to fulfil the norm and order of the community and to serve as a blessing to them. This opens my eyes and made me read meaning to the so called philosophy. Balikis then left me to whatever fate awaits her and also to reminisce on my future too.
I am just another twelve-year old beautiful Fulani girl with noticeable features such as a fair skin, pencilled nose, oval face and since I just reached puberty age, my breast had just started popping out. I aspired to be a doctor and I clearly remembered while growing up whenever I say this, my parents are ‘always laughing’ which made me believe they are ‘happy’ and would support my dream. I negated all thoughts welling within me and declared my parents won’t act like Balikis’s parents. Even with that, I felt insecure since my father had only gave birth to just three kids, I myself and my two brothers. My dad was a farmer while my mum sells product from my dad’s farm. We might not be rich at least we can afford three square meals per day which was a great privileged unlike Balikis’s family whose dad was a polygamist. He married three wives and had eight children in all. Balikis’s mother was the second wife and she had two children. This made me think I had better chances of not being married off since my own family was a monogamy family and there’s no struggle for anything.
Days passed, I finished my Primary School and got a scholarship to study in a private Secondary School at a better locality compared, just few more kilometres away from my former primary school. I was so happy when I received news of my Scholarship from my Headmaster and danced all the way home. When I got home, I met my Father in company of his long-time friend Alhaji Sambo, discussing. I greeted them and relayed the good news to them. He was very happy and his friend gave me some cash. My Father then asked me to get inside and dress up because he had something to tell me. I went inside still happy ignorant of the news yet to be told. After changing into a nice dress, I approached my dad.
“My beautiful king, do you know who that person is?” Asked smilingly, my dad.
I was amused to respond since I had known Alhaji Sambo being my Dad’s friend since I was a kid –“Yes yes of cause, he is your good friend.” Alhaji laughed boisterously and kept quiet almost at the same time and began to smile in his own rather awful gaze. “He always brings gift for us.” I continued.
“No, not anymore my dear daughter, he is your husband and he has been paying your dowry since you were little... understood?!”
My world stood still and I gave in to tears. My mother then explained further comely that I had been betrothed since I was a baby and Alhaji had been taking care of me which explains his frequent gifts and visits. She said according to the tradition, a girl gets married at the first instance of puberty. She said it was a thing of honour and had been going on for years. I was embittered by her words since I’ve always shared my dream of becoming a doctor to her and I know the self-acclaimed husband already had four wives. My father then said just as I have learnt that I am a blessing and it is time for me to seal the blessing. I stood there dumbfounded which explains my current predicament.
Nobody told me on our first night as a married couple, I would be raped and beaten by my husband in a bid for me to obey and fear him. Nobody told me that I would be scorned by my husband’s other wives. Nobody told me I would suffer stillbirths when I get pregnant due to the inability of my body to be fully grown before experiencing this fate. Nobody told me I would suffer VVF (Vagina Vertigo Fistula) which would enable me to smell and be treated as a leper. Nobody told me I would be abandoned till I die.
I got to the stream drenched with tears hoping everything happening to me was just a dream.
“Aishat...!” Called out, a voice.
“Oh, that is my name!”
I snapped back to reality. I turned towards the direction where I heard my name and saw my younger brother running towards me excitedly ignorant of what’s happening since he’s a guy and the pressure is not on them. Oh! I was already beginning to pray and wish he was coming to tell me that the marriage had been cancelled. Each step he took towards me made my heart skipped in bit.

“Your husband’s family is around to settle your dowry completely o.” Said he, joyfully.

What a stupid boy he was, I hated him for that but was it his fault? My fate was sealed whatever! But why?!

Written by Odunayo Adenike
© 2017
Edited by Jodekss Writing and Editing Services
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