No Truer bind

It was a pledge she had prayed to abide, cultivated from her grandmother, that to know God was to know peace

'... I answer the prayer of the supplicant when he calls on Me Q2:186.' She held onto the knowing and made home places of worship. being present in Masjids was a soother for her. It was the only place where belonging was never unwelcome, the frith had kept her grounded because there had never been a truer bind to hold on to.

"You will enjoy your stay with mama" she remembered how eager her mother would be, packing her bags to dump her into her grandma's frail hands, her mother would spend only a full day and leave the next day without her. To be rid of her at least till school resumes.

Salima would wave good bye and watch the last of her mother's merry saunters of being away from her. She couldn't cry for her presence anymore, it was becoming unfeeling and her grandmother had taken up the space of what a mother could be for her. Her grandmother didn't just want her around to fill her loneness, the cold years of old age.

She loved Salima and cared for her as she was used to nurturing, attested to with the garden she tamed.

Salima woke at mornings, with ready hot bath waters and hearty breakfasts. Ma Asma'u loved narrating stories to her and it enthralled her, her granddaughter was all ears as she ate her meal, their most abundant local food,Yam, made into steamy mouthwatering porridge.

Salima would take spoon by spoon and if she burned her mouth, her grandmother would pause her story to give her water and then forbid she took anymore until it was cold enough.

She would resist, insisting on taking the hot food and nudge her grandmother to talk more, she said the most ordinary things in a captivating way any ear wouldn't tire to listen and ma Asma'u would spin tales of old days, their people and their town and then she would talk most of God, that only the love of the Creator was true.

salima hadn't foreseen there was anything good to be borne out of her stay aside the pampering but she learned values that have stuck like a second skin.

That life was an unfaithful gambling game meant to be lost at the end.

Not the warmth of a mother nor protection of a father or comfort of a home, they faded faster than smoke. Not even love lasted, lest it left bearable memories of our days. Her grandmother loved her true but she wondered till how long she was to stay, seeing her grandmother on pills, weaker by the day and bound to crumble to dust like the fate of every human. in time.

The sadness would be overwhelming, fearing there was nothing in the world to hold.

Salima had wanted to know unending love and her grandmother had said that to love God was the only one eternal, unmatched and paid in folds.

And they would go for sermons, her grandmother holding her by the hands all the time.

Salima for the time spent with her grandmother always saw her supplicating, her prayer beads close by. Barely would call to prayer end before ma Asma'u would take up her mat. her grandmother was unlettered though she was very learned in the ways of the world, the little she had committed to memory was enough to her that she acted upon guardedly.

All the years Salima watched her, her grandmother was always at ease with herself. The tranquil she exuded came from the inner of her mind and heart, how light it was. salima envied it and thought to be like that but it wasn't as easy as she saw ma Asma'u do it, For many reasons,

her grandmother was born in an old world where virtuousness was not as hard, Salima was born in a world where freedom was mantra, there was the intoxication and distraction of youth streamed by popular culture, a world sinking in its own unchecked passions. In the new world, freedom to some meant lewdness and it was hard to turn from, hammered into the every mind. It lurked in every corner, decency was outdated, backed with the phrase that you only lived once and life was too short to be a bore.

Salima was the boredom, though she strived, to cultivate the love like her grandmother had. Her grandmother didn't just strictly follow doctrinal rituals, she didn't just pray because she had to, she prayed because she knew God and believed to be in presence of the Creator Who loved her. her belief crossed beyond an identity to a doctrine, it was the total surrender to a Higher Will, the way she did it with ease like it was what she was born to be, A worshipper.

Ma Asma'u proclaimed boldly that she stood upon a grasp-worthy hold that she would never lean on anyone, not even her fallible self. her utter strength made Salima shudder, her conviction and the way she transversed the expanse of earth with no fear, not even death made Salima think her grandmother had Angels right around her.

And she would say to Salima,

"God is to you what you think of him. Strive even in ease not only when you're troubled. Just dare to believe, you will see" and salima did, she was weak but nonetheless her faulty strivings, she knew calm in her heart despite bred in chaos.

She strove harder in her times of loss, when she had uncovered the bitter truth of her family secrets, she would find peace in prayers, in visiting the house of God, in studying scriptures.

In every place, she would get to be accustomed. in every new city she set foot, she found first buildings dedicated to worship.

Her boarding school had been one to promote interfaith unity, making praying spaces for those who wished to exercise their worship. She hastened when it was Fridays after lunch, some of her friends and she, they would go to the masjid for sermons. Taking front row in the only place in the world where there was never a day she was outcast.

The preachers, not learned, adept scholars but volunteer teachers from the school and it sufficed they spoke of forbidding the evil and enjoining good.

With the passing days, her eagerness waned. trepidation took the place of hope and there came the threat to steal again, her selfish love of her place of peace.

It rocked the foundation of their home the rot her father brought upon them that they lived with his sins

and now her place of hope, just like her father, men had reared their faces as betrayal again and wished to put to test her patience.

Soon, they had come with their vileness and polluted the sanctity of the place of prayer, the talks turned direction, they no longer preached God, they preached the name of men, as the superior specie meant to be appeased and the large population of younger girls,the most aged of them then not being more than eighteen would listen with fervency.

They reduced the name 'woman' to brainless inferior things meant to be owned, guided by them.

women couldn't think, men knew better

Women were led by blind passions, temptresses to be caged away.

men were led by reason.

Women could do no more than be society's birther, and it was better they remained home to be the consoles of their owners, the men.

Even if the men were like her father, adulterous morons led by lust and sacrificing their family's to it.

It stirred anger in Salima and blinded to reason with passionate vex had raised her hands, cutting them off mid-talk to challenge their prejudice. despite the shock of the crowd and nudges from older girls that she shut her mouth, she was undeterred and questioned why they only preached hell to women and spared themselves, no one spoke against men like her father because somewhere deep down they were guilty of same and they couldn't preach against themselves, it was as though the sin of being woman was already bigger than whatever any man could ever commit.

She had been brought before the discipline committee for insolence, they had voted the decision to ban her from sessions lest she incited rebellion amongst mindless girls. words spread among the sitting committee that she was probably a badly brought up girl of a disrespectful, shameless woman. whatever got in her head that she couldn't be quiet to them for the utterances against her mother, she spoke and shook them with words. they had zeroed solidly on the grounds that she was a lost cause, needed to be banished right away.

None of them saw through the story of a girl grown around oppression of the male folk that failed to protect his spawn, none saw that she was seeking justice and equality that women were humans too deserving of being accounted to for wrongs against them,

that women could be right and men could be wrong.

She turned away without any sadness or need to make them see, more than happy to leave the place they had turned shrine for uplifting their own names.

men had cast her out and not God.

Salima had remained in the consoles of her personal seeking, asked forgiveness for any digression. She read books itemized of the fairness to women folks. she would only visit masjids for prayers in congregation.

to hell with patriarchy and oppressive dominance, to hell with those who preached their selfish intentions as God's way.

A short trip of her mind, going back and forth on her hate a few years earlier and the will it took to shed off the thick skin of loathe. Renewing her convenance of the peace she had promised to herself, to commit to God and as a good deed for her grandmother. She had gone early to the campus general praying place, to listen to sermons not as heard from the fallibility of human tongue but for the love of God, for her own good.

Chewing the last of her dates and disposing the now empty nylon in the dump can. She walked with calculated steps behind Anisa and Bushra, their energetic paces had them placed in front of her, her ear caught air of their chat and it was of the aesthetic of the newly completed masjid, it was indeed a master piece of the finest architectural minds. they would look back at her few times to see if hadn't lost in the crowd yet, she would nod in response signifying she was half aware of their talks. Counting every step along the way to the lodge, reliving the air of her weightless heart as light as air. The sanctity of the moment, for her. Reconnection, cleared of the rebellion sprang of hate that had veered her the wrong course.

They parted ways and waved bye to their counterparts staying at the dormitories and had cornered in the marker that announced they were close to home, a large drooping willow tree,letting the leaves pat the top of her head as always before running into their room where she could finally unwind the tiring routine of life, it was the favorite part of the day for Salima and Anisa, the worst for Bushra. Salima flung off her heavy clothing leaving the thinner one, a cotton shirt fabric and a wrapper, Anisa opened the window to let air in the room, the electricity had gone out and it was hot. Bushra had begun to talk, filling the noiseless room, opposing to her lively mind.

" I wish I was as thin as you. you don't really have to bother about fittings" Bushra said struggling to let her blouse off her shoulder. It was of recent Bushra had become image conscious, ever since being with her new beau. Anisa had noticed it first.

"So you wish for this?"

Salima didn't think anyone would want to look like her. She was lean, her mother said too lean for her good. People used to ask if she was anaemic, and though offended she would politely tell them no. Adolescent years helped her acquire a small amount of thigh flesh as the only proof of being woman.

"He's lean and I'm beginning to feel like I look older than him" Bushra swept her eyes degradingly over her figure, mostly the flesh of her stomach. She pressed the flesh with both her thumbs through the grey singlet and hissed.

Bushra was an averagely tall girl, coffee brown, plump and rounded in a cherub kind of way. she had a small face, like a baby that hadn't shed off all its weight placed on slightly tall legs.

Her eyes were small, deep into her curved forehead. Her brows low ached and had filling of small hair between them almost making her mono-browed. her button nose and round lip put at a distance by a deep arching, gave her features a sharp outline.

She was oddly pretty, and it was getting on both their nerves that a man's presence was causing her self doubts.

" He's not only lean, he looks like a skeleton coated in a layer skin. That boy literally has no flesh."

Bushra had the look of offense and despite so Salima couldn't hold back her laugh, she bursted. Anisa had bad mouth.

"Stop being so offensive, that's how he is"

"You're contradicting yourself. It's how he is to be thin and he's not bothering about it. Why are you so concerned with your natural big flesh. You forgot your own creation?"

Anisa had a way of making people correct their own errors themselves.

" you've been on a hunger diet, punishing yourself with all sorts of early morning exercises. taking detoxes just for a man, is this man even going to do the same for you?"

" Is it wrong to please someone who loves you? Not everyone is a man-hater" Bushra eyed her, making a clicking sound with her tongue.

" All the bootlicking you've been doing, where did they all lead to. Same old talk 'it wasn't the right person'. I doubt how many more times you have to be used to know the efforts you're putting aren't worth it"

Anisa scolded.

" Don't insult me with the things I have shared with you. If I hadn't told you, none of you could have known about it, so please."

It had once been root of a quarrel between Salima and Bushra. when Bushra had narrated how she sold her brand new mobile to help her then lover boy when he was indeed being deceitful. Salima had ran her mouth in scolding and went overboard with her words, and it had led to bad blood that they weren't on talking terms for almost a week. Salima knowing she was guilty had bought Bushra's favorite snack and appeased her. And since after the incident Salima watched her tongue guardedly.

"my dear roommate, you're beautiful like that and I love you but please don't be so quick to show how much you're willing to do for men, there are many predators out there and would snatch the chance.

You would only end up used."

Anisa had the look of frustration, wishing Bushra would for once reason with her.

" It is the truth. You end up exhausted and used, besides you don't have to keep people who love you, they would stay if they want to" Salima iterated to Bushra almost pleading.

" Didn't he know you were big before talking to you? And what were you both thinking before starting things?"

Brows raised, Anisa expected Bushra knew her own answers.

"He knows. we both know but it was all emotional then, now I can see."

Bushra looked again at her bulging stomach and groaned.

"Then why are you trying to kill yourself to please, no one ever got anything from trying to keep men, they all regretted. I have aunties who've experimented the thing and failed, I can get your their contact so you ask them" Anisa handed her phone, jesting.

"Then thing is, I know I wasn't supposed to but I stalked his social media following and saw he follows a lot of slim, light skinned girls. It made me insecure that maybe I'm not a type." Bushra dropped her weight, lying on her back. Although nobody asked her to stalk, to fuel the insecurities. she had never been one to bother much of her appearance and didn't know why she's been conscious of recent.

" Then he should find a girl with small flesh and stop twisting this fine biggie to fit in the beauty standard of his closed mind" Salima said but Bushra was not in anyway impressed with her talk.

" This is one of the reasons why I never bother with relationships. I hate that they would come after you and once you fall for their lies, the rest of the work is left to you, to wear yourself off pleasing them to keep them, even if it means your whole lifetime wasted doing so. A sick mentality if you ask me"

reflected in Anisa's voice was a grievance rooting from a personal trouble.

" Finding love doesn't have to be this desperate, wait for the right real thing. It is the fear of ending up alone that has so many women stuck in unhappy relationships where they have to please to keep"

" You don't expect me to not give a chance and wait for a miraculous Romeo to come and find me" Bushra spat back defending herself from Anisa's cold look.

" But when you are so eager to give chances, anything and everything would fall in your net" Salima added.

" And I have a choice to filter out the ones that don't work, besides there are lots of good people out there, I believe so." Bushra was never dearth replies.

" Focus on building an income, I never knew any woman who regretted having her own money" Salima shrugged.

"And at the end minting all the money, where do you go to? who would you talk to. don't put your ideas to me, I'm fine like that. I don't even mind being a housewife to raise my family." Bushra was sometimes quick to temper and Salima sensing this thought it wise to remain quiet.

"It's not going to end up in negative for everyone, projecting your insecurities on other people is wrong. I hope you two find space in your hearts to think something good, for yourself." It was Bushra's turn to give them a piece of her mind.

Anisa wanted to counter and soon it was going to become an argument between them but Salima wary of another brewing conflict waved a finger to signify that she held her mouth.

"Nobody's judging but when it's love all these won't matter. You don't have to even try this hard."

Bushra was one to listen to herself. Their talks couldn't shake her resolve.

"Maybe it is wrong we had poked in her matter like that." Admitted from both parties, they were wrong and

went quiet before Anisa spoke again

"You know I really miss that time of my life when we had a lot to talk about and boys wasn't one of them.

whether you're bashing or pleasing, they're slowly becoming center of our discussions." Anisa said regret all over her face. No doubts, they've reached a timeline of life one is expected to have at least fallen in love or being in relationships.

"You can imagine my aunties already prodding me with marriage talks, they think I'm hiding 'him' when in real I don't even have a 'him'.

I still can't imagine myself married, who wants that torture

There are too many idiots and I keep meeting them" shaking her head disappointedly, Bushra didn't let Anisa finish talking before saying her mind to her.

"Oh that's why you want to pour your grey misfortunes over mine" she accused, mainly for the sake of rousing trouble.

Anisa threw her face towards Bushra with aggression, like she couldn't forgive the accusations.

"So you think I am jealous because I don't have any male attention.

are you serious?"

"I pity you two, the day you fall for someone, I pray I would be there to witness it because I would laugh at your display of stupidness. when love twists your brain and you can't think straight, let me see how you still have the confidence to bash other women"

" I swear, with my soul. I would never be a fool. And the day I do, I would fast three days to expatiate my oath."

" Be careful what you swear with. Life would put you in a position where the soul you swore with becomes tied to someone. You would fast to not only expatiate your oath but also to be cured of the gravity that would pull you down with it, you will fall hard" Bushra was more keen on Salima, she was most ardent in defying the norm of women needing men. Salima glanced to Anisa next to her expecting her to put a word for her but anisa had a look of shock and akin to be lost for words. Her sharp full mouth was stretched in a firm line trying to form words but could not.

The tense atmosphere was cut with a ring of a phone, Salima didn't even realize it was hers until Anisa nudged her. "It's your phone"

Salima was used to the silent mode of her phone and was just recognizing her ring tone.

Plainly in white bold letters against her turquoise screen was the name she hadn't given any relevance, Fareed.

Since the weeks he had bothered to call her, she had never, not even by mistake picked it. She was never going to give a chance.

and what Bushra just uttered was a reinforcer, she wouldn't be any man's fool when he was probably ringing up other girls awaiting who to fall in his trap. She watched the phone ring till the end before silencing it and going back to her talk.

"Who's that?" Asked Bushra.

"No one special."

Salima loved how he held no weight enough to even ruffle a hair of her skin and she felt no guilt how she ignored him. She indeed loved it. It gratified her soul.

"I don't care what you say Salima, those crazy feminist ideas that you can be thoroughly independent. yes, having your own money is good but having a male presence, a responsible male makes a whole lot of difference. we are species meant to rely on each other. Any female knows this"

Bushra lectured and the word 'feminist' roused a tempo of annoyance in Salima.

" I've told you not to call me feminist "

Salima wondered how much of explaining it would take to make people understand she wasn't the F word. She didn't live by the ideology or made being in no need of any man a choice, it was her early life. Her broken family. The disbelief in anything good ever coming for her.

"And you better grow the guts to face your issues and stop running like a wimp. pick your phone."

Anisa had never for once mentioned of Fareed to her, even when she saw notifications of his unanswered calls on Salima's phone. although Salima would not understand the look of annoyance she had on her face whenever she heard his name.

"this one is not even an issue, I promise" she smirked.

Fareed.

his name was weightless on her tongue. She couldn't see him beyond a time waster and if she hadn't been invested in doing better things, she could have helped him pass time since he had nothing to do with it, he had daddy money to rely on so he had the luxury of plenty of it. She wouldn't change her mind for him. he could think whatever.

Anyone could think whatever.

beyond the brazen act, it was fear masked as self-reliance.

Many had walked up to her and said she was the good woman and she would register their words in her brain as ' the docile labourer any man would pray for. to clean his house, to wash his clothes, feed his children and warm his bed all for a paltry price paid upon her.'

They would think their praises worked on her when it had indeed spiked her tongue with venoms, when she would lash out leaving them to wonder what they said wrong, she would pray to look the she-devil they ran from, doing everything in her might to look against the woman they thought she was.

It was bitter in her guts that she knew she was the soft woman, and was fighting against her true values, her inherently docile nature. However she fought or masked it, she could never beat it. she would hate herself for being so because it beckoned predators. The fear of being seen as her true self. The obedient child ready to bow her head, willing to stay below those who loved to dominate even if it was subconscious she did it. she pitied women like her, prey for onlookers who didn't even need to look deep before knowing. docile women scarcely married for love but for their dutifulness and their ability to obey, to be the good wives and nothing more than it.

It was a mere charade of a fawn masquerading as a fighter.

Her pieces were frail and would crumb faster than friable clay and still no one would see her for it, if she fell, she wasn't loved enough to get any nursing but would be replaced like an old engine failing in its function.

There was love perhaps, rarer than unicorns, existing only for the women of bewitching features and brawns but not her.

At the end of all the bruise and scratches, she only had herself to nurse. No one in the world would.

As her grandmother had said, there is no truer bind than the love of God.