She was a beautiful woman whose childbearing years were nearing forty-seven. At first glance, one could tell that in her younger days she must have caused Dr. Marwan a great deal of competition among men. She still possessed remarkable beauty even now. Her complexion was very fair, reflecting her Fulani heritage, and though she was neither extremely tall nor short, her overall appearance was well-balanced. What stood out most about her were the obvious signs of cleanliness and pleasant fragrance that clung to her wherever she went.
With calmness, dignity, and a strong sense of self-worth, she entered her co-wife’s section of the house. She was dressed in a green England atamfa fabric, sewn as a blouse with a plain wrapper. Behind her were the housemaids under her supervision, in charge of the kitchen section, carrying trays. Salma walked beside her, holding a neatly covered food warmer in her hand. She was fully prepared, clearly heading somewhere, walking alongside her mother (Aishatu, known as Amma) while conversing softly.
The servants paused while Amma and Salma exchanged greetings inside Anni’s elegantly furnished sitting room—one that hardly looked like that of an elderly woman.
She was a beautiful woman whose childbearing years were nearing forty-seven. At first glance, one could tell that in her younger days she must have caused Dr. Marwan a great deal of competition among men. She still possessed remarkable beauty even now. Her complexion was very fair, reflecting her Fulani heritage, and though she was neither extremely tall nor short, her overall appearance was well-balanced. What stood out most about her were the obvious signs of cleanliness and pleasant fragrance that clung to her wherever she went.
With calmness, dignity, and a strong sense of self-worth, she entered her co-wife’s section of the house. She was dressed in a green England atamfa fabric, sewn as a blouse with a plain wrapper. Behind her were the housemaids under her supervision, in charge of the kitchen section, carrying trays. Salma walked beside her, holding a neatly covered food warmer in her hand. She was fully prepared, clearly heading somewhere, walking alongside her mother (Aishatu, known as Amma) while conversing softly.
The servants paused while Amma and Salma exchanged greetings inside Anni’s elegantly furnished sitting room—one that hardly looked like that of an elderly woman.