My parents are very poor. I was the main reason for their stress. When I grew up everyone around me wanted to settle me soon. They said otherwise it would be too late to get any groom for a short, black girl. My main tasks were putting a lot of powder on my face and wearing shoes that were too difficult to walk in. Those potential grooms and their families never liked me. It was difficult to express myself when they questioned me about things like how well I could cook or how much I was earning. More awkwardly was when they asked me to walk in order to check if my legs were okay, or touched my hair to check if it was fake or real. When I met my husband we met outside in a nearby field. I felt disgusted when I was going to meet him for the first time. I wanted to go back and never meet him; my relative forced me to go and asked me to talk to him alone.
We were sitting silently; I was looking at my shoes and expecting to hear the same questions. He pointed at my shoes and asked me how I could manage to walk in those. His face was so genuine that I started laughing. Then he told me I can ask him anything that I wanted to know. I paused for a while because that had never happened to me before. No one ever asked me if I had any questions for the groom. I asked him what kind of girl he wants to marry. He told me, ‘I want a wife who can laugh just like you. I earn very little and have no great qualities to share. Only sometimes I can cook very well and sing old songs. If you think I am worthy of you, I will bring my mother.’
It’s been six months that we have been married. I did not wear those shoes again; he only buys slippers for me. After work we return home together. At that time, we buy vegetables and laugh at silly things. But we never talk about love. We feel very shy to talk about it and have never said ‘I love you’ to each other. On this path it takes more time to reach home, but we love to walk the extra miles together.
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