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Hope seems ridiculous when you’re wearing sandals with holes in them. The aunt suddenly became thoughtful, in a strategic, not benevolent way: « You say you want a wife. You won’t complain? You won’t bring her back? » The man hesitated in confusion: « I wouldn’t marry someone I intended to bring back. » The aunt then turned to Amara and pointed at her: « Then take her. » Silence fell, then an explosion of mocking laughter: « They’ll be a good match! At least she won’t let him starve; she knows where the food is! »
The aunt pulled Amara forward: “She’s my niece. She’s strong and healthy. She needs a husband, you need a wife.” Amara’s heart pounded against her ribs. “Aunt…” she began. “Shut up!” the woman snapped. The man then looked intently at Amara. His eyes didn’t scan her body with disgust, they didn’t widen in shock. They simply saw her. “Do you agree?” he asked her. The question shocked everyone. The aunt answered for him, but the man ignored her, keeping his eyes fixed on Amara: “Do you agree?”
No one had asked her opinion in years. Her throat was dry. She could say no and go back to hiding in the back room, or say yes and leave this house that seemed to shrink every year. « Yes, » she said, her voice barely audible. The women gasped dramatically. Her aunt clapped her hands: « It’s settled! » No introduction, no negotiation, no family gathering. The humiliation was sealed like fate. The preparations were rushed. There was no joy, only the aunt’s relief at being rid of a burden.