(The Menace Called Child Marriage).
Series 2.
Previously on Children not Brides Series click here.
'Rashidat, don't be afraid, it's a normal thing, it simply means you are now a woman, but quick help me hide the bed sheet before your father comes to see this, hurry!!' mama beckoned, trying to buy her daughter some time, she wasn't ready to loose her child to a premature marriage just yet. She was taken back by the sound she heard from behind, ' see what, oh my daughter, you are now a woman, congratulations' papa said with a smile on his face, that kind of smile that indicated that she was ready to be given off to Musa, the greedy and lustful animal (in mama's words).
'My husband
please, don't you think we should wait a while before giving her away in
marriage, please let's consider, she is still a little girl' mama said hoping
that her words would change his mind, 'Nonsense how old were you when I married
you?? She is even too old self' papa blunted out, 'you better prepare her
because tomorrow she is going to meet her husband' papa said storming out of
the house.
Mama called
her baby, held her in arms and with tears in her eyes she said, 'Rashidat my
child, remember when you told me that you can't wait to be a woman, I think
Allah has answered your prayer, in a few days from now, you would be a woman of
your own having your own husband. Remember all what I have taught you, learn to
submit and agree with your husband, you feel be hurt at first but with time it
would all heal, not just your body but your mind too. Remember I love you' she
said sealing it with a hug and tears rolling down their eyes.
This new
kind of lifestyle -the lifestyle of a teenage wife- was not what Rashidat had
bargained for, mama barely prepared her well enough for this. She had to wake
up very early in the morning to take care of Musa's huge compound, she would
sweep the ground, cut the grasses and tidy the main house. Twice every week,
she had to go to the farm to harvest some of the products, she also had to tend
to the cattle everyday and finally whenever it her turn, she had to cook the
meal for the whole house to eat.
These chores, coupled with the daily routine of washing and ironing his clothes
often made her tired and when ever it was nightfall, being the newest bride it
was her duty to satisfy her husband in bed. Musa never took 'No' for an answer,
whenever it was dusk he didn't care what she had to do all day, all he cared
about was satisfying his sexual urges. Musa was like a dog on heat, sometime he
would go on and on for hours even when her young and fragile body couldn't take
anymore, Musa didn't care. Sometimes when she couldn't handle it anymore, she
would breakdown in tears and Musa would scream at her and sometimes hit her and
call her 'childish' for crying like a baby. So sex became a frightening experience
for her and everyday at dawn she would pray to Allah to give Musa a new bride
so that he would at least give her wounded body time to heal
The other
wives would sometimes try to comfort her, telling her tales of their experience
and how time proved to heal all wounds. Some even tried to teach her their self
invented way of escape, which involved drugging his diner which would cause him
to sleep like a koala bear on hibernation and save her the stress of another
horrific night episode. She quickly bought into this idea as it was better than
the suicide and murder ideas that had filled her mind.
Few months
later, she starting feeling uneasy. It felt like malaria but this was different
from the type of malaria she had as a child, the symptoms seems so odd. Early
morning inconveniences, nausea and frequent fatigues. She also notice the
increase in size of her breast but because of her naïve, nature, she thought it
was part of being a woman, she later complained to Mama who out of experience
explained to her that these were signs of pregnancy and that soon her prayers
of being a mother would be answered. What!! Pregnant? She exclaimed, 'mama am I
not too young to have a baby? Would I survive? Mama I'm scared' drifting in and
out of a cloud of thoughts, she hugged mama wishing she never had to let go.
Written by Omoyibo Akpobome (His_Storyteller).
Cheers!
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