Bab 1: HOW MY LIFE CHANGED

The French Impressionist table legs groaned heavily under his weight as Uncle Dauda hoisted his large frame to its feet. He then raised a glass of non-alcoholic wine although his slurred speech would make Nabila's mother suspect otherwise. Clearing his throat roughly, his baritone drowned out the festivities of clinking glasses and high laughter that dominated the surrounding tables. Looking at the 20meter high photograph of the happy couple displayed in the Grand Foyer of the Hilton Hotel, Alhaji Dauda adjusted his emerald green baba-riga and began "It seems like yesterday my niece informed me that she had met a young man who she wished to marry and now I am pleased to introduce to you the newest Ango da Amariyya in town, Jamal and Nabila Mujahid." The applause stunned the bride and groom out of their respective reveries and looking to Rabi, Nabila merely reflected the expression her little sister wore. She strained her fake smile as far as it would go and waved till her wrist was sore, she was tired and just wanted to go home. Then she glanced at her husband and realised that she would never return again to her brightly lit bedroom with its lilac walls and large view of the garden. She would never again have her own bathroom. She would never again walk Didi, her Black English Spaniel, while sipping on the zobo that Oda, their chief cook of 14years, brewed specially for her.