Katsina.

"BABE what do you think about this?" Surayyah showed her fiancée an exquisite white bridal dress that is sweeping the floor, pink roses embellishing the sweetheart neckline to her shoulders.

He turned around to look at the blinding screen in the darkness of his car. He loves white which is definitely why she is choosing that but he doesn't like the gown, it's unsettling. It's showing all her curves meant only for him to see, possessive. But he doesn't want to appear too protective of her already and besides, it's their wedding.

Instead of portraying what he really felt, the corners of his mouth turned up as he questioned. "Do you like it?"

Surayyah nodded enthusiastically, her eyes fixated on the screen. "Isn't it gorgeous? With those little pink roses."

"It is, as long as you love it." He smiled at her, his eyes clear and filled with onus adoration for his woman sitting there beside him looking all enraptured and fervent to get married to him.

Her wide eyes yawed around to look at him, a smile slowly enveloped her face at the way he was looking at her, her lips quirking. He cannot wait to have her in every sense legitimate, shower her with crippling love and nauseating tenderness that will disarm her. She cannot wait for that too, they've been dating for over eight years which is why everything feels hypnagogic and overwhelming.

They just want to get this done and over with it.

"AB, what would you have done if Abba had gotten me married to Luqman?" She curled her hands beneath her dainty cheeks and stared at him with her wide appealing eyes.

Abbas's expression yaw really taut and dangerous, unveiling the commander beneath. He was never that severe with her. Whenever she is around, it feels like everything is perfect, all rainbows and unicorns and he cannot help being contented. She is also doing her best to make sure their relationship is as healthy as possible throughout those eight years albeit the breaks they took once in a while.

"I don't know but I am extremely happy that he didn't do that. I don't think I can ever go through the process of loving someone apart from you. Arranged marriage would've happened for the first time in my family." He shrugged his shoulders looking dead serious about the matter.

And she knew he was serious about it too.

Surayyah threw her head back and laughed at his earnestness. She knew he was serious but the mere thought of him with another woman apart from her made her blood boil scorching hot beneath her skin. Her AB with another woman? That should be over her dead body, of course. It won't happen. They love each other to death. It's a sight she can never picture, not after being together for so long.

Her father wanted to come in between though, not long ago. He was so persistent that she must also get married in the family like her other older sisters and the younger one, they are getting married together next week. She made sure Luqman understood the fact that she didn't like him so he talked to her father about it. Luqman is a nice man but just not her type of man.

They are friends now, he is cool with her marriage and is now hunting for a bride.

"They don't know about it but we've been tied together since forever." She held his hand in her own soft small ones, massaging the backs with her thumb.

"They do now. And in a few days, nothing is going to stand in our way." He kissed the back of her hand, feeling her pulse racing beneath his hand. He smiled, the same effect she has on him.

Breathlessly, she acquiesced. "Absolutely nothing and no one."

Abbas traipsed inside his father's mansion around five in the evening after a very long day at work trying to take a few weeks off after the wedding to spend some time with his wife. Things are closing up on him and he thought he was ready to tackle everything when the time comes. You are never too ready for your own wedding it seems. It has been going on since the day got fixed four months ago, how time flies.

He would've wanted the wedding sooner but her family were not ready to send away two daughters within short period of time and were too prideful to accept their offer to embellish the house they'll be staying in.

Halting mid stride so as to not break the toy beneath his boots, Abbas stared at the three year old boy in front of him then grinned. That is his nephew, his sister's son. They came just earlier to also start preparing for the wedding together with his mother. They are acting as though this is the first marriage in the family, it is not. He begged them not to orchestrate any event, Surayyah doesn't like it neither does he.

He picked the equally grinning three year old and spun him around in his arms making chopper noises. Hanif giggled in his uncle's arms then wrap his tiny ones around his shoulders to stop the spinning that is making him dizzy, Abbas complied. Abbas cannot wait to have a child of his own. His flesh and blood with Surayyah.

His immediate younger sister, Afiyah came out of the kitchen with a large tangerine apron the size of a tent around her round body. "Thank God you caught him. Lord knows where he would have gone to this time around."

Abbas smiled at his sister warmly. She isn't his favorite but he loves all his sisters a lot. "I am always there to save the day. Just start paying for my services, I'm getting more expensive."

Afiyah rolled her eyes. "Your father is a respectable dermatologist and your mother is an adorable dentist, I don't know where this business mind of yours came from."

"The zeal to have your own money, Fiiy." He entrust her son back into her arms before he inquired; "Are you cooking something or is there food in the house? I'm so hungry."

Afiyah made a face at her older brother, he loves food more than anything. "Your wife will suffer in this life if she doesn't know how to cook."

"She does and it's easy, there are several catering schools now. There is online too so I will enroll her there. Or, I'll gladly cook for the both of us, I'm a great Cook. That won't be necessary though. Surayyah is an amazing Cook." He shrugged and made his to the kitchen only to be interrupted by a maid.

Afiyah was cut off before she could form a sentence. "Ya Abbas, Hajiya wants to see you now. She is in her room." The middle aged maid said, looking preoccupied with something in her mind.

Saratu is an older woman that had worked for them for more than a decade so they are used to her moods. She was the person that made his younger siblings to start calling him Ya Abbas which is why the name got stuck in her mouth too. His mother had appreciated that discipline a lot because she was so busy then building her own career up another pinnacle to tackle that part of their lives.

Abbas held her shoulders in both his hands so she could look at him which she did. "Don't let my mother stress you out. You should take breaks and let the other maids and them Afiyah to work too."

"Hey, I was working until now. I won't stress Saroro for anything and she knows that." Afiyah frowned at her older brother, that earned her a beam from Saratu who murmured, "I know."

Saratu smiled kindly at him, her concerns vanishing for a little while. It is no secret that Abbas is her favorite amongst the six siblings. "I won't allow her to stress me, you know that. I just don't want anything to go wrong at your wedding."

Abbas grinned charmingly. "Have no fear, nothing will go wrong In Shaa Allah. Just relax your shoulders."

"I'll try relaxing them. You go up there to your mother, she is worried about something." Her graying brows bunched up in the middle of her forehead making her look older than she normally does.

Suddenly worried for his mother as she is not one be show her concern out in the open, something must be terribly wrong somewhere. "Fiiy take care of her and get your bratty little sisters to come help."

With that, he rushed up the stairs his boots hitting the carpet and swallowing the cacophony sounds beneath it's luxury. Upon arriving outside his mother's room, he found the door ajar but he knocked and waited for acquiescence before he entered with a quiet taslim that she answered reclining her shoulders at the sight of him with relief. Seems like he is everyone's favorite.

"You called for me, Ammi?" He groaned remembering his shoes are still stuck to his feet and he cannot enter her room wearing 'horrendous' boots as she likes to call them.

Reluctantly, she eyed the boots then suspire, it will take forever to get them off. "Just come in with them."

Abbas laughed but shrugged his shoulders. She must be really worried about what she wants to talk to him about. "That is so rich from you, Beaut. But I wont let this opportunity slide. My horrendous boots in your room? A plus."

She rolled her eyes and folded her tall figure on one of the tuxedo couch in her room. "I am because your father's family want to really eat me alive."

"Is that so? What is it about this time around?" He sat down beside her, placing his elbows leisurely on his knees while his upper body meandered to peruse over her.

She sighed, that family of his father are making his mother older with wrinkles since she is always worried over them. They are constantly around her tail making them all uneasy in the house though they don't have any problem with the children in the house, just the woman that gave birth to them. For reasons they made sure she knows, they don't fear anyone.

Just because her husband chose her over the women they threw his way and he refused to take a second wife because one to three of their relatives don't want to stay married with their middle class husbands. They got divorced, none of them is a widow, so they want him to marry at least one of them, he refused and rejected the idea. Threatened to cut them off if they disturb him about that again.

His mancho of a mother on the other hand wants to keep everything peaceful between the family even though it is not her job, she is that magnanimous but they don't want to acknowledge her skills. Their father won't mind cutting off his family for his wife and children, everyone knows that which is why they tell her things they wouldn't dare say to him. Abbas made sure they don't have that aperture anymore.

He is sure there was another call again from them that got her worried enough to ask him to come into her room with his 'horrendous' boots and didn't ask whether he has eaten or not, like she usually does.

Taking a ferocious deep breath, she extricated her mind. "Your father's younger brother, Ali met with an accident earlier and your father is currently too busy at his clinic giving him no time to go check up on him until after the wedding."

"Subhanallah! How is he now?" He managed to muster more than enough sympathy because the man is his least favorite from the family but he still felt a little bad, he is still family after all.

Hajiya Rukayyah surveyed her son for a few seconds then guffawed, the sound soft, he endorsed her a beat later. She had caught him yet again, of course she would, his able mother. They took a whole minute guffawing and taking deep breaths to convalesce and crowd abstinence from going for another round. It is always so good seeing her laugh like that without restraints whatsoever. Her wrinkles deepening delicately.

"You vicious boy...you are not at all sympathetic, are you?" She relaxed back on the couch with a small smile lilting the edges of her lips. The worried line were there all over her forehead though.

"I am not and you know why." He gave a simple shrug, that was enough to send the message his lips wont discharge. The woman knew so much of him like no other.

She does. The man harangued her when her husband refused to marry their relative which she thought was because he went through bankruptcy around that year, it was an excuse she gave her husband for the way his younger brother fulminated warp-like in front of their kids. Abbas never forgot that little scene and kept repeating it in his head, till his hatred for his Uncle almost choked him. Not able to do anything then pierced him till date.

"Who told him he had any right to say those things to you? And why didn't you call me when he came? I would've shown him who is older and stronger. If he ever comes back to this house and you refuse to tell me, I'm going to seriously punish you first before I go to Abuja and give him his piece too. I swear he wont have complete teeth when I'm done with him."

Hajiya Rukayyah had stared at her tall husband with mouth gaping like a fish as he ranted close to detonation on and on in their room for the way his presumptuous, conceited younger brother brazenly disrespected her in front of her children. Abbas had called his father to tell him about what had happened, he was only twenty then but he is yet to forgive the man. All her kids loathe him. Why wouldn't they? He did their mother wrong, the best person on earth.

"Be forgiving, life is too short for grudges that won't take you anywhere which is why I want you to go see him." She tilted her head to look at his mutinous expression ready to argue.

"Beaut, I don't think I will be able to stop myself from turning off all the machines around him and remove the nasal tube around his nose if there is one. Don't send me to go see him alone. Let's wait till after the wedding so Surayyah can also meet them there." He advised, his face set. His mother is taking his hatred as something light.

"No! They are going to talk bad about us in front of her if you or your father don't go there first before the wedding. She doesn't need to be caught up in our family's problems." She shoot out her own point, snaked her arms around his gargantuan shoulders in a way to coax him.

"God, Beaut, stop making points like that. It is not a debate." He used his left hand to stroll his face down to his jaw, irritated. He is not going to win this.

"Take Jaleel with you. And don't worry, I'll pay for the flight and everything. Go tomorrow in the morning and come back in the evening or next tomorrow." She brought his head down and kissed the bald head, the new hairstyle before the wedding so it'll grow a little.

That was enough to melt away his resolve, he lied his large body on her so she could stroke his head and relieve his stress. "I don't want you to leave this house, I'm going to miss your tantrums about food."

Abbas smiled absently, he has been thinking about that too. They say only girls cry when they leave their homes and parents and whatnot, he is also going to cry. He is so used to his parents and siblings that when he went to NDA years ago, he wouldn't eat food for three days straight. He chose that for himself but he couldn't take been away from his family for long. He got used to it but how will he take this?

"I am probably going to miss you more." She continued stroking his head absently.

He left her room an hour later after they've talked about everything and nothing; some regarding the wedding and others his plans for the future. He ate food with two of his younger siblings while the others are away doing God knows what with tailors, stylists and stuff regarding the wedding. They won't rest now that a wedding is taking place three years later in the family. Now that they are all grown.

"Thank God I didn't give Ya'u my clothes. He is a good tailor but he won't give you your clothes when you want it. Now the two of them are there waiting for him to give them. I am million percent sure he hasn't finished." Munayah stuffed her face with more food.

Abbas laughed, their sisters and going to the tailor all the time are five and six. He has four younger sisters and one younger brother, the youngest in the family, Abubakar.

"Alhamdulillah I'm not a girl. I don't care whether I'll have to wear my old clothes to go to the wedding, as long as I won't look homeless." Abubakar shrugged, burping loud behind his palm but still earned himself a grimace from his siblings.

"No one is going to wear old clothes to my wedding." Abbas pointed his fork at his brother who pursed his lips cheekily. He is only like that around his siblings and any other outsider would've looked stunned at that.

His phone rang on the table making everyone in the room to groan and mutter; "Surayyah!"

He checked to see that it wasn't Surayyah but he half expected it to be her, it was Jaleel —his mother had already called him. He glared at his siblings eliciting a nonchalant shrug from them, it is not their fault that they got used to seeing her calls all the time in his phone. They are always talking, twenty four seven.

"What's up, Bro?" He hollered just so they could hear that this was his friend, male and not Surayyah.

"Aunty Ruks just called to tell me about our trip to Abuja. A day or two because I feel drawn to Abuja this time around. Something good is coming from this."

How do you like Abbas?