Muhsin Ibrahim
@muhsin234
Religion is a single thing that many Nigerians, in whatever dispensation, hold in high esteem. Religion is often viewed as the opium for the subjugation of the masses or as their Achilles’ heel. To Rahama, the story is different; religion means nothing to her. It is simply an identifier that she’s a Muslim lady. One might think that having grown up in a multi-religious house would intuitively teach her to have some respect for religion, but that is wrong.
A 28-year-old, stout Rahama Tsoho belongs to a disreputable family of three. Her father, an ex-serviceman, divorced their mother when she was only two. She stays with the father, her sister with the mother. She had longed to marry since her teenage years, but she couldn’t. She always attributes this to her look and family. So she vows to live a better life in the future, by hook or by crook, and begins using highly effective, expensive bleaching creams to brighten her skin. She also hunts for a suitor via dubious ways, such as flaunting her bosoms and derrière at the workplace and visiting the so-called Malamai, fortune-tellers and sorcerers.
After long and tedious trials and retrials, she meets a fine young man, a newly transferred staff member from another state, in their office. Without a doubt, she knows he’s beyond her league, but she believes it’s worth a try. As feared, the fine-looking new staff turned down her offer outright.
“I swear I will marry that guy by all means”, she declares. Soon thereafter, she starts consulting her fixers for whatever aid she needs. “All I want”, she confesses to one of them, a mighty sorcerer who lives atop a high mountain, “is to marry him”.
“That’s easy for us as drinking water”, he assured her. “There are, however, rules, as you well know”.
“I am more than ready to abide by them. All of them, provided my wish will be granted”.
For a start, she’s instructed to visit their family home, which is far away and uncommon in that culture. She unhesitatingly goes. She introduces herself as his colleague. Simple. Throughout her stay, she behaves like the most innocent girl and sends greetings to her stepmother, siblings, and anyone who cares to respond.
“Oga Rabiu has been very helpful”, she warily announces. “I, therefore, felt duty-bound to visit his family as I am here for another reason, actually a relative’s wedding”.
That evening, I saw Rabiu looking troubled and lonely. I was about to ask him what’s up when he started to tell me all about Rahama. He said she’s a magic-savvy lady who once shamelessly told him their marriage would bring many blessings. When he asked her how she knew that, she said her Mallam told her.
I was bewildered. I quite well know that she’s neither fit for him nor for his scholastic family. He halts my busy mind, which is trying hard to dissect the whole scenario: “Muhammad”, he calls my name, “marrying Rahama would be the greatest mistake of my life”. That relieves my besieged mind, for I was just contemplating whether to tell him not to accept her proposal. “So, rest assured, I will avoid it like a plague”. He adds.
A few days or weeks, I can’t recall exactly, passed by, and I heard nothing from my dear neighbour cum friend, Rabiu or about Rahama’s blunt, in fact, unheard of, proposal. I had just started thinking the issue was dead and buried for good when he dropped a bombshell on me.
“I am getting married next week”. He tells me.
Wow! I said sotto voce. I know that he and his younger brother have been searching for a fitting life partner for him in the neighbourhood. I also know he’s rich enough to solemnise his marriage within a few days if both parties agree. Thus, I ask:
“Who’s the lucky girl?”
His look changed from thrilled to timid in a split second. I wish I could retract my question. In this deportment, he managed to respond: “Rahama”.
After calculating the atmosphere, I am convinced there is no need for any further explanation of how it comes to that. Her magic, shameless pursuit and insincere insistence have ultimately worked out. I pray for the Almighty to bless the union and call it a day.
A few years later, I began to think that we all, who had earlier condemned her, were proven wrong. She seems like a wife everyone would want: caring, loving, dutiful, and generous towards him and his family. Her major frailty still remains how she handles religion. That, too, I reason: she’s from a different background. Therefore, we shouldn’t expect her to behave the way we do, or as we want.
Unbeknownst to us, she’s simply buying time to portray her real self. She’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing. She is now doing the unthinkable; Rabiu has literally been her “yes man”. He worships her; he does everything to please her, and parts with everyone she doesn’t like, including his brothers and sisters. He’s, to sum it up, blanketed in her world.
Rabiu is known for much discretion, but not any longer. You dare to tell him your undisclosed secret; you would hear it being spoken of in the neighbourhood. If you ask who told them, they would say Rahama.
Uncharacteristically enough and against Islam, Rabiu has at several instances bequeathed his wealth to be given to her should he die, as they don’t have any children yet. He cannot even reflect or recall that his parents, who should rightly get the lion’s share, are still alive.
There is a single path to get to Rabiu now, and that’s through Rahama. Rabiu is for Rahama, and Rahama is for her family and pocket. He sees, but he cannot decipher. Everyone believes that he’s conjured. And that doesn’t last forever.
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