Salvaging my goldmine

‘Is it me or did your husband look slightly upset?’ I asked my friend Sahiba, as soon as I stepped foot into their sitting room. ‘I mean I couldn’t help noticing how curtly he returned my greeting before he started his car and left.’ I added. ‘You mean he was still here when you arrived?’ […]

‘Is it me or did your husband look slightly upset?’ I asked my friend Sahiba, as soon as I stepped foot into their sitting room. ‘I mean I couldn’t help noticing how curtly he returned my greeting before he started his car and left.’ I added.
‘You mean he was still here when you arrived?’ She asked with surprise. ‘It’s about a quarter of an hour ago since he banged the door and left. I had no idea he didn’t drive off then.’
‘So he banged the door and left eh? Then I was right, he did look upset or angry, I mean he just wasn’t his normal, bubbly self.’ I observed, sitting next to her on the settee.
‘Just leave him, for the first time in our marriage, I’ve stood my ground and decided that things have to be done my way and he’s already overreacting.’ Sahiba replied.
‘I see and what things are those that have to be done your way?’ I asked.
‘Let me get you something to drink first, Hajiya Bint, because its a long story. Would you like ginger, zobo or your favourite tiger nut juice?’ She offered, smiling.
‘Yes, my favourite it shall be. Thank God you still have the energy make all these juices. Most of us offer visitors packaged drinks because we just dont have the time or energy to make natural ones.’ I commended.
‘Some of us have no choice but to make them or else we won’t have anything to serve our guests.’ Sahiba replied, coming towards me with a glass and a pitcher of kunun aya.
‘Thank a lot.’ I said taking the glass of juice from her.
‘So you saw my darling husband looking upset’ she said, sitting back on the settee ‘what happened was that we had a serious argument over our daughters. And he stormed out of this house telling me I couldn’t have things my way.’ She disclosed.
‘But what about your daughters caused the problem?’ I asked.
‘You know all three of them are in the university now. The eldest will graduate next year while the twins are in their second year. Today, out of the blues, Mamman sat me down and said we should discuss their future. Apparently, he and his friends have this grand idea of matching up their children in marriage.
He said with the increasing decay in morality, they have decided that the safest thing is to do is to marry their sons to their daughters. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My daughters to be married off to some young men they don’t even know just because their fathers are mutual friends?
Needless to say, I rose to the occasion and told him just what I thought of his weird plan. I told him that my three light-skinned and beautiful daughters will only marry men of their choice. They will get rich and influential suitors who will appreciate their beauty and value them because of it. That was when he lost his cool and said he had not seen any such admirers coming to our house so why should I oppose his plan? I told him I had my own plans on how to get those kind of suitors. I mentioned that professional match-maker, the elderly woman in town, who takes the pictures of beautiful young women to rich prospective suitors and get them matched. I told him I plan to employ her services and get my daughters the husbands they deserve. He said he will never agree to that kind of arrangement, that our children are not commodities to be touted. But I argued that in the same way our daughters are not charity to be handed over to family and friends. I told him to look closely at our daughters and see if  they deserve to live the life of suffering I had led as a teacher’s wife? I told him we will not be fair to them, because in this day and age, girls with their looks are like goldmine to their families. They marry rich men and are a source of good fortune to themselves and their relatives. Meanwhile the men who marry them are proud to show them off as their great catch. So its a win-win situation all round.
At this point Mamman dared to remind me that the girls are only fair because of him. That if they had inherited my colour they won’t be the goldmine I am boasting of. And I responded by telling him that I knew I was darker than him but they are only beautiful because they have my eyes and long nose. Shaking his head at my reply, he rose and grabbed his car keys, then he looked at me and warned that he will never allow me to have my way on this matter.
To be continued.