---

She prepared thoroughly, after all, she was known as the queen of elegance. She looked stunning because she had the kind of curvy body people referred to as “the perfect shape.” Whatever she wore suited her well. They headed to the hotel where a well-organized dinner was planned by the groom’s friends. The venue was exquisite. When they arrived, she felt calm because her heart didn’t skip a beat. They sat down and appetizers had already been served.

Suddenly, her heart dropped fiercely, and everything around her blurred despite the beautiful music the singer was playing, which she had initially enjoyed. But now it felt like everything came to a halt. She stood up abruptly. Sadiya and Munira looked at her.

“Where are you going?” they asked.

“I’ll be back,” she replied, and walked behind some curtains, keeping her eyes on the door. A strong feeling told her he was about to enter.

---

Dady stepped out of the shower, tired. He hadn't attended any of the wedding events because he was fasting and was now exhausted. He sighed, thinking he would have to settle for marrying Zainab since he couldn’t even find the woman he truly wanted. He knew he needed a wife—his desires were strong—and since he couldn’t have the one he loved, he decided it was better to marry someone else.

He dressed in a blue shadda outfit, matching cap and accessories. He slipped some five-hundred-naira notes into his pocket, sprayed some perfume, grabbed the Hummer key, and headed out. In the living room, he found Sunday putting Hollandia into the fridge.

“Sunday, bring me one of the cars you washed.”

“Okay sir,” Sunday replied, leaving, marveling at his boss’s love for Hollandia. He thought the company should offer his boss a special gift for how much he adored their product.

Dady drove to Zainab’s house and called her. She came out after saying goodbye to her mother. Her mother strongly wished for Zainab to marry Dady—not just because he was rich, but because his family was wealthy and he himself had accumulated wealth.

From his car, he watched her walk toward him wearing an elegant green lace dress adorned with silver thread. Her jewelry and accessories were all silver, and her bag and shoes were white. She looked stunning. His desire for her grew. When she got into the car, he opened the door for her and the scent of their perfumes filled the space.

“My dear, I thought you weren’t coming,” she said.

“Why would you think that?” he asked.

“It’s already past ten and you hadn’t called,” she replied.

“I was thinking that we should have our own dinner too. I’m tired of cuddling a pillow—I need someone who understands me,” he said.

“Didn’t I tell you that already?” she responded. “But you preferred sleeping with your pillow.”

He touched her face. “The bride price and everything else will be brought on Saturday, now that everything is settled. I was the one holding it back. But I know I need this marriage. We’ll do it in three weeks.”

Zainab, excited, said, “Great! I’ve been dying for it.”

“Dying for what?” he teased.

“For what’s been keeping you awake,” she replied.

He shook his head, surprised by her boldness. Zainab wasn’t the shy type. He remembered his Pretty—anytime he made a suggestive comment, she’d cover her face with her hands and say, “Really?” Zainab, on the other hand, was bold and direct. That didn’t impress him. He preferred modest, hard-to-get women.

When they entered the dinner venue, his heart skipped, just as it always did. Pretty wasn’t there, but his heart kept reacting anyway. They had arrived late, but his entrance was announced as the groom’s closest friend. As they walked past the groom, Zainab sat where Rukayya had just been. Rukayya's heart dropped when she saw Zainab—she recognized her from the salon. She was thankful she had left the seat and stepped outside, staying in the bright courtyard of the hotel despite her inner panic.

Sadiya looked at Munira. “M. Bash, Ruky M hasn’t come back for almost an hour.”

“True,” Munira said. “Go check on her. She doesn’t have her phone, and we can’t call her.”

“Son Guy” (as Dady was nicknamed) turned to Al-Mustapha.

“Sorry Musty, we couldn’t arrive on time.”

Zainab added, “How’s the groom’s preparation going?”

“Everything’s good,” Al-Mustapha replied.

Zainab looked at Munira and asked, “Where’s the bride?”

Munira didn’t recognize her. They exchanged greetings with Sadiya as well, still unaware of her identity.

“You don’t recognize me, do you?” Zainab asked.

“I’m trying to remember where we met,” said Sadiya.

“At the salon,” Zainab reminded them.

They immediately recalled and greeted her properly. The bride was teased by Son Guy, and Zainab asked, “Where’s the other girl with the hair?”

“You mean Ruky M?” Sadiya asked.

“Yes, didn’t she come?” Zainab replied.

“She just left. We don’t know where she went.”

“Looks like we’ll meet her after all,” Zainab said.

“Go check on her,” Munira said. “You know how Ruky is, she might’ve gone home already.”

Al-Mustapha added, “Ruky is so moody. It took effort to get her to come.”

Dady stayed quiet, pretending not to hear, though he was listening closely. In his heart, he felt an overwhelming desire to see Ruky M. He remembered how he missed properly seeing her the last time. Now, he was desperate to see her face again. He deeply respected her name—he had vowed that if he had a daughter, she would be named Rukayya. Remembering her caused his mind to spin, and he felt a sudden hatred for all other women. He didn’t even hear what Al-Mustapha was saying until Zainab nudged him and said, “Dear, don’t you think we should appreciate the singers?”

He stood slowly and joined the performance, spraying money. Zainab followed, admiring him even more. The groom and bride joined too, and the atmosphere became festive.

Meanwhile, Ruky, heartbroken, watched them. Seeing Dady with Zainab, looking even more handsome, hurt her deeply. His body looked fuller and more appealing—something she never liked in men, but it suited Dady.

Tears ran down her cheeks. He had broken his promise. She thought of their past love, realizing it was all lies. Why didn’t he ever try to reach out since their breakup? Why didn’t he call her phone—especially the one he gave her? He had never looked for her all these years. She resolved never to fall for sweet talk again. From now on, she’d forget about Abuja. She was leaving tomorrow. Unless it was M. Bash who married her, she’d never come back or see Dady again.

She would rather marry her poor cousin than endure heartbreak. Even Nasir the tailor—who was married with three children—was still chasing her. She had decided to stop following rich guys. Armaya’u and M. Bash were already heading to law school. She’d go for her service year, then search for a job anywhere and leave marriage to fate.

While she was deep in thought, the event ended.

Seeing people start to leave, she went back to the car they came in. She saw Armaya’u and the others bidding Zainab goodbye, while Dady and Al-Mustapha headed in her direction. She panicked and quickly moved behind the cars to hide.

She heard Dady laughing and telling Musty, “Tonight’s your big night. You better try for a baby.”

Everyone laughed.

“Zee, let’s go. It’s getting late,” he said.

She left a greeting message for Rukayya with Sadiya and returned to Dady. “My dear, shall we go?” she asked.

“Get in,” he replied.

She squatted beside the car, listening behind another one. As soon as she heard the engine, she moved behind a different car.

Once they left, she emerged and rejoined Munira, who was trying to get into the car.

Sadiya gasped, “Where have you been?”

“Let’s just go,” Ruky said.

They all headed to Munira’s house. The groom’s friends had left earlier to Mom’s place. They were grouped into threes: Munira with M. Bash, Sadiya with Armaya’u, and Rukayya with M. Sani. She promised to return in the morning, though she knew she wouldn’t—Armaya’u was heading to Kano.

Mom gave them souvenirs and appreciation gifts, urging them to thank their parents. Umma and Sadiya’s mom were present.

After the wedding, Umma and Affa constantly discussed marriage with Munira. Rukayya couldn’t wait to be sent for NYSC (National Youth Service).

When the postings came out, she was posted to Lagos. She didn’t mind—she just wanted to get away from home.

After finishing her meal, she cleaned the dishes, even Umma’s, and went to wash them at the well. Umma, calling from Affa’s room, summoned Rukayya.

Her heart sank when she saw the NYSC letter in Affa’s hand. She sat down, and he asked, “Your mother told me you're going to Lagos?”

“Yes, that’s where I was posted. I just picked up the letter,” she said.

“If it was Kano or Katsina—anywhere here in the North—I’d have allowed it. But I won’t agree to Lagos,” he declared.

Rukayya stayed quiet until he finished, then said, “Please forgive me, it’s just nine months. Please understand.”

“All you talk about is education. What about marriage? I’ve done all I can. Look at your friend who went with you to the wedding—she’s getting married. Even if it’s NYSC, she’ll be doing it from her own home now.”

“Affa, they’re going to continue with school—law school. It costs 250,000. They’ll also spend nine months,” she explained.

“Whatever it is, she’ll be doing it from her home, right?”

Rukayya stayed silent as Affa continued scolding her about marriage. Clearly, there would be no NYSC for her.

---

At exactly 10:00, she finished dressing up for Munira’s wedding in their matching outfit and went to Umma’s room.

“Instead of reminding me to inform your father, you stayed quiet,” Umma scolded.

“Sorry, I knew he’d say no. You know he doesn’t like too many outings,” she replied.

“Greet them well,” Umma said.

She stopped by the nearby shop to give Mama and Muhsin gifts of chizzy and biscuits.

As she walked past Nasir’s shop, a boy called out, “Hey Oga, here’s your woman!”

“Who?” Nasir asked.

“Rukayya. That girl always acts like she owns the world. But to be fair, she has a lot going for her.”

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