WASA FARIN GIRKI Complete Document Written By Sadi Sakhna



I attentively absorbed every word my father was uttering about how I had reduced everything to nothing. My confidence was steadfast, yet he seemed to read my thoughts as he spoke. His statement triggered a sensation that I was strangling him, momentarily halting his movement and sparking anger.

Even after my warning, he persisted. “I know you’re still upset and anxious, but I want you to understand that this is part of your destiny’s design. I am fulfilling my promise to my late wife, Hajara, the promise she made before returning to her true home.”

I turned abruptly, locking eyes with him as he recounted that it was her dying wish that he had fulfilled. She had whispered this to Baba Umaru the day she bid us farewell.

I stood, intent on exiting his room. Now, I felt no need for any connection, realizing I had been living in ignorance for all these years. Entering our room, I found it empty, relieved that the visitors had departed after three days of celebrations.

Despite bathing excessively, I felt sweat soaking my body, showering for the past three days.

Beside me lay some of my aunt’s garments, clothes she had kept here since my marriage. I surveyed the room, a melancholic ache gnawing at my heart. I contemplated arranging it, sitting alone, wondering if they were conspiring to push me out of the house.

Even though it wasn’t present in the moment, I longed to uncover the truth between me and Sameer, Yamzu’s son. I was aware he wasn’t my blood, a result of my marriage to him. My vow remained unspoken until they unveiled the truth to me.

Across the three bridegrooms’ homes, the bride’s arrival was met with no commotion. Everything she desired, she could obtain on her first night. A dance, a symbolic step into her new life.

Zainab’s gaze locked onto Yunusa, struggling with his police uniform as he prepared to leave. “So, now you’re a man of little respect. On our honeymoon, you assured me you were leaving for work, while that lady hinted at your arrival here today?”

With each remark, she held a small cucumber, gesticulating with agitation. But Yunus remained undeterred, almost as if he were impervious to her words, engrossed in repairing his shoes.

“Now, Yunus, I’m fine, but it seems you’ve collected my dowry. By the way, you’ve gone and informed them that we won’t be able to visit, giving them a week’s leeway. They won’t bother me when I’m at work. Did you bring a bag? Oh, my apologies, I won’t go there.”

She continued, “Aren’t you eating? Since you’ve set eyes on me, I suppose I won’t need to buy bread today. I went to the store last night. After all, you’ve been here for three days, which should suffice. Cook for yourself. Oh, you can’t cook? Just sit there, then. I’ve told them you won’t bring a bag. But it seems you consider them foolish, bereft of parents or marriage prospects. So, go on, tell them.”

These conversations usually ended with Yunus assuming an air of dignity, proceeding as though he wasn’t the one married just three days ago.

Zainab felt frustration welling within her, thanks to her fiancé’s revelations. She placed her hand on her forehead, attempting to quell the overwhelming emotions. Everything seemed to be tumbling around her, casting her adrift from her usual bearings.

In the realization that there’s no ruler but God, she left her room and headed to her mother-in-law’s quarters to offer her greetings. From a distance, she overheard her mother-in-law, who berated her inconsiderately due to her perceived coldness and reticence.

“Dallah, she went to Kuban abroad. Your husband’s son brought money, and you’ve been told to do as you wish with it. You act as if you’re searching for a son, sitting on the sofa like a bone in his hand. I won’t give you both bags, wazobiyah (fifty), planning to buy red and yellow (tetracycline). Yasha, all of you, the cause of stomach upset.”

As Zainab approached, her gaze met the mother-in-law’s, who stared at her without a pause or a breath.

“You also look like a moon in metallic pants.”

Quickly, Zainab lowered herself, offering a respectful greeting to her mother-in-law, Wednesday.

“Mom, I was resting.”

Saida’s brow furrowed, suggesting she was reluctant to respond before she finally said, “Fine, tell your uncle (Yunusa) about today’s conversation. He’ll spend the night. If you don’t understand, let me know, and I won’t repeat it. Today, you’ll become married, just like every yarknyah’s son. After three days, you’ll transition to kitchen duty. Do you comprehend?”

Zainab’s head snapped up, clutching her chest. She hadn’t anticipated this development. Overwhelmed by both sadness and disrespect, she was left unable to converse with her mother, her nerves trembling.

Kwass kwass k

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