Chapter Eight: The Day the Music Died

The morning of the triple wedding dawned with a fever pitch of celebratory noise and activity. The compound of Alhaji Uba was a controlled frenzy. Cows and goats were being slaughtered for the feast, the sound of the drummers was persistent and loud, and hundreds of guests, relatives from neighboring villages and merchants from the town, began arriving, dressed in their finest ceremonial wear.

Alhaji Uba, in magnificent, heavily embroidered robes, was the conductor of this symphony of prestige, accepting compliments and directing servants. He was at the apex of his ambition.

Rukayya. . .