She was about nineteen years of age. About 5’7 tall, tanned brown, smart, beautiful, patient and kind.
Born into a local Fulani family in western Gambia, she went to a local school in the Kombo area of the country. Graduated high school at eighteen and lost her liberty at eighteen.
A week before it happened, her mother made a visit to mine. Her mother was at my house to share the exciting news. Exciting; that is what marriage was supposed to be. She said her daughter was to be given to her cousin as a wife in the approaching week. She would become a house wife. She would leave her parents’ house and go spend the rest of her life with an acquaintance. One she wishes not to marry, my mother found out.
“Why are you making her marry someone she doesn’t wish to marry?” My mother questioned. “Even Islam doesn’t permit forced marriages and it is considered invalid in the sight of Allah.”
“What is it that I can do about it?” The mother of the bride to be started. “When she told me she did not wish to marry him, I tried all I could to stop the wedding from taking place, but you know her father; he said he gave his word to the family and our daughter must marry him. Whether she likes it or not.”
“I will speak to him myself. Thank you for letting me know.”
“I really hope he listens to you. Maybe you can save my child.”
This is a woman who is aware of the fact that her daughter did not wish to marry her cousin, yet there was little she could do. In her house hold, her say is of very little or no importance. At least not compared to that of her husband’s. Just like in many other local households.
But he said the marriage was going to take place when my mother confronted him; just as he told his wife. There was not much my mother could do nor say that would make him change his mind. He has already given his word to the entire family line. And he would not go back on it. He said to my mother. ‘What would they take me for should I go to them now with news of the refusal by my own daughter?’
That day, was the same day my sister was getting married. Two weddings known to us. One with consent. The other, without.
One year, four months later, it is now time for the bride to be celebrated and taken to her husband to officially become a wife and fulfil her duties to her husband.
Two days before the ceremony, her mother visits the house again. Tensed, stressed and worried.
My mother was out of the country by then. I was her only child home. I heard her ask for my mother from the living room and the house help said to her “she’s not around.” She then requested to see a child of my mother. Me - as I was the only one home – being useless, sleeping and drinking and being on my phone all day because I had been feeling like shit weeks before, got a little annoyed by her request.
Trying to be as polite as anyone who has been disturbed from her Netflix series could be, I asked her to come in and have a sit opposite me. She asked for my mother, I told her she’s not in the country. She said she had hoped my mother would be back by now. But unfortunately, my mother had fallen ill and had to extend her stay. Nonetheless, I phoned her on WhatsApp and allowed her to virtually speak to my mother.
I paid very little attention to their conversion until I heard her say “the child is in my room and has been crying since she heard of the ceremony.” I felt my heart sink to my stomach.
Upon the end of their conversation, she returned the phone to me. With a full heart I said to my mother, “so what is going to be done about her situation?”
“What can I do now Mariam? Especially from outside the country? I spoke to her father and he did not listen to me.”
“Oh,” was the only thing that could come out of my mouth. I was still overwhelmed by the whole situation. Never have I been a witness to forced marriages. And honestly, I did not think that such would be happening in 2020. I had imagined that we were past that age. But I guessed wrong.
Aisha, the young girl’s mother, got up to leave, but she looked into my eyes, I must have reminded her of her daughter – she is no more than two years older than I am – because she fell back into the chair and started crying. I, sat still. Unaware of what to do or say.
“Aisha, if she doesn’t wish to get married, at least not to that man, don’t force her to.” I managed to murmur.
“I swear I wish it were that easy. My daughter has been crying since they came with a date for the ceremony. She has cried so much she went from thick to very skinny. I made food for her today and she wouldn’t even eat it. She hasn’t eaten nor slept for days. I tried consoling her to stop. And she only stopped crying recently, that was when I decided to come here. She is now doing some laundry to get her mind off the ceremony, and the thought of being with her cousin as a spouse.” Aisha said.
“I hope you know that this is a forced marriage. Which Islam does not permit and it is hence considered invalid in the eyes of the Lord.”
“It is not me Mariam,” she started to narrate the story as tears fell from her eyes and travelled down to her chin. “When her father’s father was alive, he said to her father that since she is our only child that survived, (I lost all my other children before and after her) he must not allow her to marry out of the family line. And so, one day, they woke up and called every family member in and out of the country and shared with them that they are sharing kolanuts sent by the family of her cousin and they will be married soon. I only found out after all that was done. Neither her, nor I were consulted about a proposal let alone acceptance or rejection. So when her father came home and told us, she told him that she wishes not to marry her cousin, that she only considers him a cousin and wants it to remain that way. Another suitor who my daughter did wish to marry had come to ask for her hand in marriage before the cousin but her father rejected him. Her father said she had no choice but to marry her cousin. That was when I came to see your mother but it seems as if her father has been possessed in some way. Until this day, he still says he gave his word and shall not go back on it. No matter what it is that I say about the matter, it is considered irrelevant by him and his brothers. So what is it that I can do at this point? Especially with the ceremony two days away?” She used palm of her right hand to wipe off her tears, while her heart remained full of heart ache and pain.
At this moment, my emotions got the better of me and there I was, covered in a blanket., a bottle of water next to me and my phone placed between my thighs at 13:10, crying. Because as much as I know my parents would never do such to me, I couldn’t help but question ‘what if it was me?’
Aisha got up, with a broken heart, and took her departure back to her house, where she was surrounded by her inlaws, neighbors, family friends and sisters, acted as if everything was fine, looked at her daughter, and said to her, “God will protect you. Be strong.”
And so, the young girl took heed of what her mother said to her.
The next morning, the ceremony took place. Chereh, sow, futti, hakko, wonjo, bui and other local juices were prepared and served to all attendees. Women, married and unmarried came to see the new bride. They all gifted her with items ranging from fabrics, soaps, towels, kitchen essentials, perfumes, bedsheets and whatever it was that they thought a newly married woman would need in her husband’s house. Praises were sung for her. The griots, present at the ceremony, addressed her as a fulfilled woman.
Later that evening, she would be taken to the house of the husband’s uncle. There, he is expected to ‘make love’ to her. And she is expected to remain calm and suppress the pain of being raped by her ‘husband’.
But the question is, how could a man even accept to marry a woman who has shown you in every possible way that she does not want to have any form of relationship with you other than being cousins? How could a man look a woman in the eye, see that she is in denial and still force her into your house as a wife? How could you supposedly make love to her knowing she is disgusted by the sight of you? How could you not comprehend basic feelings?
It is heart breaking and saddening that even in 2020, we have young girls going through this. When one woman is sleeping peacefully, alone in her bedroom, or with a partner of her choice, another is barely sleeping because of the being next to her.
When then, shall we truly be liberated?
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