I do not believe in destiny- Salma
Uncle Khalil, Aunt Farah and Hakeem are waiting for us as we enter their driveway. Their house is a bit larger than ours and far more decorative. The fountain at the middle of the driveway is the center of attraction for me, when I was younger Aunt Farah would drop several coins for me to find in the fountain. Sometimes it would be cents, or pounds, and whenever I traveled for the holidays I always had coins to spend.
"Assalamualaikum," Aunt Farah greets my parents after they get down.
"Walaikum asalam," mummy and daddy greet back. After they exchange hugs Aunt Farah's eyes focuses on me.
"How glad I am to see you, come on let's go inside. I've prepared a number delightful dishes for you all," she latches her hand into my elbows and leads me to the mansion.
"It's been a while since you came here, would you like a tour before you come for dinner?" She whispers as we walk ahead of the group behind us.
"Um sure, why not?"
"Great. Salma!!!" She yells immediately, and so loud I can't help wincing. It's only until Salma comes running out in a blue jumpsuit that I realize what Aunt Farah meant.
"On second thought-"
"Oh Jibril, I completely trust you okay? And plus you two are going to have to spend some time with each other eventually," she pats my hand comfortingly. Before I can argue some more Salma stops in front of us, panting a little from the run.
"Yes Mama?"
"Show Jibril around dear, be back before dinner is served," she orders her. In one swift move she hands me over to her daughter, leaving us alone. I watch my parents pass me, both shooting me funny looks. I can already imagine the look on Yamil's face when I narrate this to him, can you imagine that? A born and bred Nigerian woman helping to match her 19 year old son with another girl. Kai.
"Just to be clear, I didn't suggest this," I say to Salma the moment they step into the house.
"I know, Mama's full of ideas, you don't even know the half of it. Come on, we may as well go for this tour." She nods for me to follow her lead and I do. We walk slowly past the fountain and towards the garden.
"Where's Fatima?" I ask, looking towards the house.
"Helping mama set the table, do you garden?" She asks abruptly.
"Ehn?" I blink, confused.
"I mean do you have a garden that you personally work on? Or a particular fondness towards plants?"
"Um...no, I mean they're cute and all but I find them a bit boring," I reply honestly. From the way her face falls I can tell she's not pleased with my answer but I make no move to amend it.
"I like gardening, I planted those lilies over there, and I'm taking care of the mango tree over there. It's relieving," she sighs in conclusion.
"I think it's lovely that you can garden, it also means you love and appreciate the earth we live on."
"Yes, yes I do." There's a moment of silence as we leave the garden and walk towards the pool.
"I have another question, or five," she pipes up after we pass the hammock under the shade.
"Shoot."
"Do you love animals?"
"Totally, I've got a dog at home. Haven't you met her?" I frown.
"Yes, she's lovely. But I thought she was more of a family dog you know..."
"Family my foot," I snort. "I got JoJo when I was 15. I've been taking care of her myself since that time. Dad made it pretty clear that she would be my sole responsibility," I laugh as I remember how I had sleepless nights debating over it.
"So, dogs are allowed then," she concludes.
"Allowed where?" I ask, puzzled. She stops walking and frowns at me.
"At our house when we marry."
"What? Why are you thinking about that?" I shriek.
"Why wouldn't I? It's all I ever think about, don't you think we should just get the do's and don'ts out of the way?"
"I get your point but we're just teenagers okay. I know we'll eventually get married but I want to experience a normal relationship. An actual friendship-"
"I don't think that's possible, all I think of whenever I see you is oh look, here's my future hubby."
"My name is Jibril, I'm 19, I love sports, cars and my friends."
"What are you doing?" She scratches her head.
"Allow me to reintroduce myself," I grin. I probably should have said that before actually introducing myself. Oh well.
"You listen to rap?" She smiles tentatively.
"Selective rap, I don't need virgin men telling me how sex feels like you get?"
"I totally get, okay so maybe this might work," her lips slowly spread into a wide grin.
"Told you so," I grin back.
"We should probably get going, before mama starts shouting," she starts jogging towards the house.
"Hey! You never reintroduced yourself!" I yell.
"My name is Salma, I'm 18, I love gardening and feeding my pet fish. And now it seems I've got myself a boyfriend," she winks at me at the ending and I feel myself blush. Is this what arranged marriages usually feel like?
YOU ARE READING
P for Perfect
Teen Fiction6 high schoolers battle the expectations from their parents, their school and the society at large. Faced under such pressure each battle with their demons differently. Some lashing it out on others, others burying it deep inside of them. Follow the...
