YAR TALLAH Book Complete Document by Jamila .txt

<p>The next day, which was Friday, I woke up early</p><p>As usual, I cleaned our house thoroughly before preparing for my job as a primary school teacher. At exactly twelve o’clock, we closed for the day, and I packed my things to head home.</p><p>On my way back, as I walked past a gathering spot where the young men of our neighborhood usually sat, they started mocking me, shouting:</p><p>“She refuses to marry, insisting on staying at home! Maybe it's because of bad luck. She's even getting old now—come, let’s marry you and save you from shame, hahaha!”</p><p>I was used to their taunts, but today, I couldn't hold back. I stopped, turned to face them, and my eyes burned with anger as I said:</p><p>“I would rather remain unmarried than marry people like you! What would I do with useless drunkards and jobless thugs like you? You are nothing but troublemakers, always causing problems for your parents. And yet, you have the audacity to mock me about marriage? Marriage is the will of Allah—if He wills, I will get married. You, jobless fools, are not the ones to decide!”</p><p>Without waiting for their response, I hurried away and continued home.</p><p>When I arrived, I found my mother stirring a pot of tuwo. Smiling, I said, "Oh, so we’re having tuwo today? Well done, Mama!" She returned my smile and said, “Yes, my dear. It’s Friday, so I decided to prepare tuwo for us.”</p><p>I smiled back and went to my room to change into a simple long dress before sitting down to chop the alaiyahu (jute leaves) for the soup.</p><p>Just then, my uncle entered, dressed in an old white shadda with a flowing gown, grinning as usual. Again, he did not greet us. Keeping my head down, I said, "Welcome, Uncle." To my surprise, he responded, “Thank you, Bride-to-be!”</p><p>My heart skipped a beat. Bride-to-be?!</p><p>Without giving me a chance to respond, he turned to my mother, who was still scooping tuwo into a plastic bag, and said:</p><p>“Laure! Today, I am finally free from all the insults and gossip. I no longer have to worry about this girl. Just this afternoon, I married her off. In one week's time, she will be going to her husband’s house, Insha Allah.”</p><p>With that, he walked away, laughing.</p><p>Mama and I just stared at each other in shock, neither of us able to speak for a whole three minutes. Then, finally, Mama said,</p><p>“Pass me my hijab. I must go after him and demand to know who he married you to! If he has given you to someone we don’t know or someone unworthy, I swear, we will go to court and have the marriage annulled!”</p><p>Without argument, I handed her the hijab, and she left. I was too stunned to say anything.</p><p>She wasn’t gone long before she returned with my uncle. Facing him, she said,</p><p>“You came to inform us that you have married her off, but you haven't even told us who the groom is! That’s why I brought you back—explain everything to us!”</p><p>Uncle chuckled and said, “Oh yes, I forgot to mention that. As I announced in the mosque, whoever was interested in marrying your daughter should come forward. A man from another town came to me, expressing his desire, and I accepted. He brought his guardians, and we conducted the marriage immediately.”</p><p>(He reached into his pocket and pulled out some money.)</p><p>“Here is the little dowry he paid.”</p><p>Mama gave a bitter smile and said, “Alright, what is his name? Whose son is he? And where will they live?”</p><p>Uncle replied,</p><p>*"His name is Umaru. He is from Niger. Poverty brought him here, and he currently stays in the house of his relative, Malam Sa’idu. He works as a water vendor. The money he earns, he sends to his family back home in Niger every month. He told me that in one week's</p><p> </p><p> </p>