Part 73 – Marriage & Motherhood: 2017

You know you’re getting old when it seems like every few months your friends have life changing news to tell you. 

First, Nuha told me she was pregnant. Hoorah! My best friend was going to be a mother.

Then, Armaan told me he was moving to London to attend the same university as me. Yay! I would have a roommate.

But when Fatimah told me that she was engaged to be married, the shock that came over me was immense. 

She was only in the fourth year of her vet program. She still had a year and a half to complete her degree but it seemed as if Zayaan was ready to pop the question. 

And it seemed like Fatimah was ready to get married. 

I was on the verge of tears when she called me all the way from Durban to tell me about the amazing news. They were happy tears, I promise. 

I couldn’t believe how quickly life was changing for all of us. Marriage. Motherhood. The only M I was thinking about was what Masters degree I wanted to pursue once I was done with my undergraduate program. 

London had definitely become another home for me. I loved that it was a walking city, which is why I tried to walk through it as much as I possibly could. I wanted to discover every hidden street and quaint cafe. I wanted to experience my life of independence in as much detail as I possibly could. 

And for the most part, it was amazing. I met great people in my program. I befriended the elderly lady staying above me in my building. I learnt how to use public transport like a professional. London life was made for me. 

But there were obviously the parts that weren’t all that pretty. The weather, in all its gloom and grey hues, had the ability to really weigh down on my mood. It didn’t help that I felt alone at times, especially when my parents would travel to Durban to visit our family without me. Deep down, I knew that I was making a sacrifice for the sake of my education but sometimes I couldn’t help but feel homesick. 

I was lucky enough to have Tasneem close-by. She lived on the outskirts of the city in a suburb and I’d try to visit every week to get a feel and taste of home. I really missed my mother’s food.

But more than that, I was lucky to have a group of university friends who knew how to put a smile on my face. We were an odd bunch of people but we worked. That was the amazing thing about university life. You met people from all parts of the world. 

But no matter who I met, nobody was ever going to replace my two best girls! And now that wedding bells and baby bells were sounding, it only meant that I had to make a special trip to the Southern tip of Africa.

Fatimah’s wedding was set for August, which was perfect because I would be able to go a month in advance to help her prepare! Nuha was out of action. The baby growing inside her was due in October but it had already put her on bedrest. 

As for the rest of the gang, what was there to say, really? 

Uzair had recently moved to Oman. His days of backpacking and volunteer work had ended. He was working for a non-profit organisation. It seemed like he had found a job that fit his personality well. Any updates I received on Uzair came through Nuha. I guess you could say that with age comes change. The friendship he and I once shared slowly evaporated. Though we did not keep in touch with each other, whenever I saw him in Durban, we would pick up right where we left off. 

The same could be said about Zaheer, who had completely abandoned life in London for Columbia. Could I blame him? Absolutely not. It was Columbia! I still remember how furious his mother was when she found out that her son had kept his acceptance a secret. She spent an entire week complaining to my mother. It was free comedy.

Zaheer seemed to be thriving in America though, so I guess his fate worked out for him in the end. And from his and Tariq’s social media pages, I could see that even though they lived on opposite sides of the country, they were still as close as ever. They would travel all around the U.S.

If only I could do the same with my best friends. 

Oh wait, I couldn’t. Because one was married and one was about to be married. 

Never in my life had I felt so single and I already knew that the moment I landed in Durban, I would be reminded of my single-hood by every aunty I would meet. If you thought I was exaggerating, think again. 

I arrived in Durban the first week of July. By the second week, I had lost count of how many times I had been asked the infamous question: So, when are you getting married?

My parents were of no help in these situations. They would simply laugh or add fuel to the fire by encouraging others. The truth was, they were in no rush to see me get married. Why would they be? I was still studying and I had aspirations to further my studies in Psychology. My parents supported my decisions and knew that everything had a time and place but in the meantime, they simply let South African society come at me with every marriage-related question. 

Thankfully, wedding preparation saved me from this ordeal!

Every other day, I was either helping Aunty Zaheera plan the wedding or I was running around doing errands on behalf of my best friend. Fatimah was still at campus. She would only be coming to Durban a week before her big day. I was stressed out for her. How was she juggling so much at one time? 

It was a Wednesday afternoon. I was at the Akoojee household helping myself to some much needed sustenance.

ME: Do you want tea? 

YUSUF: I thought you said you were hungry. 

ME: I am hungry. 

YUSUF: You’re having tea?

ME: Tea is food. Tea is life. Tea is my whole world in a mug.

He shook his head. 

YUSUF: I see London hasn’t changed you at all. 

I smiled. 

ME: Is that good or bad? 

YUSUF: Well, that depends. Do you want to turn into a South African sellout? 

ME: Hmm, as tempting as that sounds, no. I am good being my weird and wonderful self. 

The kettle reached its boiling point and I slid a mug over to Yusuf, knowing that he would have asked for a cup of tea sooner or later. 

YUSUF: Thanks. 

ME: Honestly, I don’t know how your sister does it. 

YUSUF: Does what? 

ME: This whole driving up and down thing. Her campus is what, two hours away? What is Zayaan going to do when they get married?

Yusuf shrugged his shoulders. 

YUSUF: Beats me. He’s the one marrying my sister. He can figure it out. 

I rolled my eyes. 

ME: I see university hasn’t changed you either. You’re your normal self. 

YUSUF: Ah, I can’t believe it’s nearly over! To think I will be done with my honours by the end of the year seems like a dream. 

ME: And then you know what comes next… Shaadi time!

YUSUF: Who are you? Shaadi time? 

I laughed.

YUSUF: Is that what your friends in London teach you? Shaadi?

ME: If you keep teasing me about London, I will post your picture on a Muslim marriage website.

Yusuf pulled a face to which I laughed at. 

YUSUF: How desperate does someone have to be to do that?

ME: Aw, don’t say it like that. It actually works for a lot of people. 

YUSUF: Seriously?

ME: Yeah. I’ve heard of some success stories where people find partners online. It happens more in the West, I guess. In South Africa, everyone knows everyone so you don’t even need a website. 

It was true, everyone did know everyone. Which was why it made living in South Africa a bit challenging. For starters, it was difficult to have privacy in your life. Secondly, it made having a small wedding close to impossible because one way or the other you would end up offending someone by not inviting them, which was exactly the current issue that Fatimah had. 

She had insisted on a small wedding. By small, she meant three hundred people, which was strange for her family who were used to hosting seven hundred people. 

She and I spent many nights on phone calls refining the guest list till it could be refined no more. Mostly because she was out of time. She had to send out the invites. Her wedding was only a month away. 

ME: I still can’t believe you’re getting married. 

FATIMAH: That’s the fifth time you said it tonight. 

ME: I just- I can’t believe it. We had a pact!

Fatimah laughed. Every few days I would call her and every time, without fail, I would whine about how she broke our pact. 

FATIMAH: You can complain to Zayaan about that. He’s the one who proposed. You should have told him to wait. 

ME: Oh, the man has been waiting. He has been waiting since Nuha’s wedding to pop the question!

FATIMAH: Psht, no he hasn’t. 

ME: Er- oh yes he has! Did he not tell you? 

And so I told my best friend about the warning I had given Zayaan all those years ago. I was surprised he had actually listened to me. More than that, I was surprised that he had waited for Fatimah. 

FATIMAH: I can’t believe you were so protective over me.

ME: Well, obviously! I had to protect our pact but what good was it anyway? You’re abandoning me for married life. 

FATIMAH: Drama queen. What about you? Are there no eligible bachelors in London?

ME: I don’t have the time to even think of that. It’s always been case study after case study and then exams and more exams. 

FATIMAH: But you enjoy it, don’t you? 

ME: Yeah, I really do. 

FATIMAH: What about Zaheer?

I almost snorted. 

ME: Um- you mean the guy I see once a year? Yeah, what about him? 

FATIMAH: I always thought you two would end up together. 

ME: I have no idea what makes you say that but no, nothing has ever happened and why would it? We’re in completely different places in our lives… But I do see his brother and sister-in-law in London. 

Waseem and Laila had moved to London a year ago and in the time since, Laila and I had struck up an unlikely friendship. Every month, we would meet for coffee and croissants. It was a cute ritual we had. I grew to have an immense amount of respect and love for her.

FATIMAH: Who knows, maybe you’ll end up living in London with the other brother…

I rolled my eyes.

ME: Right! Moving on, please! Next order of wedding business!

And that’s how our phone calls went for the entire month of July. Soon, everything was shaping up. The venue was booked; it was a cute rustic hall attached to a flower farm. The caterer was on board and so were the decorators. Most of what we were doing was in-house; Nuha had come up with some innovative decor ideas that wouldn’t be too gaudy for Fatimah’s taste. 

Things were really coming together. I just hoped that my best friend would like it.