LAMARIN KADDARAR AURENA Complete Document Written By Mom Islam



The house is modest; its owners cannot be termed impoverished. With five rooms, a kitchen, the wife’s room, and servants’ quarters outside, excluding the guest room, it is a simple dwelling. In the wife’s room, the owner’s chamber resides within. The layout involves a parlor and an adjacent restroom. The house’s tiles are worn, and adjacent to the pampo, a young woman emerges from her room. Adorned in a green floral-printed dress, she is barefoot. The dress accentuates her figure, highlighting her beauty and her slight stomach. Her wrists bear silk bracelets, while a dainty necklace graces her neck. Her lips, pink and red, complement her appearance. She appears to be around twenty-five years old. Heading to the kitchen, she places a pot on the rack and returns to her room. Retrieving a jug filled with food, she enters the kitchen again. Opening the recently placed pot, she prepares jollof rice with salad, carrots, and onions. The food is enclosed, and she fetches water from the bathroom, adding it to the jug. With a lid in place, she assembles a basket adorned with falowy decorations, arranging the food within using a plate and spoon. Placing the tray on the table in the parlor, she returns to her room, sitting before a mirror. She applies more powder to her face, adorning herself with a fragrant humra spray.

Glancing at the wall clock, she notes it’s nine in the evening. Rising, she adds incense to the room, retrieves her phone, dials a number, and utters a soft “God bless you.” The response from the other end is, “Afnan, my queen, I apologize for working late tonight, but God willing, where are you coming from?” Following this, the call is terminated. As she attempts to sleep, she resists the urge to retire. A knock on the door interrupts her thoughts. Opening it, she finds him embracing her, laughter filling the air. Agata looks up and jests, “Aren’t you growing taller even if you don’t eat a lot?” Afnan chuckles, and he leads her into his bedroom. She requests he undress, and she accompanies him to the bathroom, encouraging him to bathe. This has become their routine since they were newlyweds; now, two years have passed. Despite her age, she maintains the appearance of a young woman. They bathe together, excluding one another only when she contemplates her meals.

She tends to him, applying oil, then glances at his drawer, noting his attire: shorts and a white singlet. Seated on the bed, he opens his laptop. The sound of Maria’s voice echoes, prompting him to focus on the laptop. “Come on, my hubby, let’s eat,” she sings. His attention diverts to the laptop, and he playfully retorts that he won’t eat until she wakes up. Rising, he walks towards her; she leads the way. Upon reaching the dining table, the food awaits him. After sitting, she serves him, they feed each other with spoons, gradually knowing each other’s preferences. After the meal, they brush their teeth and settle in bed. Afnan notices Haisam preparing to leave, and she accompanies him to his room, reminding him it’s time to rest.

The next morning, she awakens, planning to visit the village. After Haisam departs to discuss matters, around noon, a knock at the door draws her attention. Opening it, she finds herself face-to-face with her mother, who’s wearing a hijab. Tears stream down her mother’s face, and she enters without uttering a word. Afnan follows her into the parlor, where her mother stands, surveying the surroundings. Amidst the chaos, Msw attempts to explain, recounting her visits from house to house, but to no avail.

Afnan rises from her kneeling position, instructing her mother to stop, asserting, “Mama, enough trouble. Keep silent. I don’t need you. I’m unaware if you used contraceptives before marriage. Afnan falls silent, head bowed. Insults and humiliation are familiar to her from her mother’s actions. Her mother breaks into pitiful sobs, and when she enters the kitchen to inspect the milk, she lifts the lid from Mara’s dish. “After the milk is extracted, Afnan retreats to her room.”

Her mother exits without closing the door. Afnan emerges, tears streaming down her face, conversing with her heart. She reflects on how, since her marriage, she hasn’t experienced peace of mind due to her husband’s mother. She’s overcome by emotions, but as she does, her sister-in-law, Fatima, enters. Observing the open door, Fatima enters and remarks, “Afnan, you’re not ready yet. No matter what…”

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