True Love Still Exists With Eesher: The 20-Year love story of Ahmad and Hanan — pure, powerful, yet denied (1)
In this week’s episode of NP’s Family Dynamics with Eesher,
A woman courageously shares her heart-wrenching 20-year-old story of a love that blossomed against all odds but was stifled by family expectations and cultural traditions. From secret glances to soulful promises, she takes us through a deeply emotional journey of young love, sacrifice, and the quiet pain of choosing duty over desire. Her story is a powerful reminder that true love never fades…. And when there’s life… there’s hope…
Dear Sis Eesher,
“I was born and raised in a family that strongly believes in auren zumunci — Marriage between relatives. In my family, it’s our parents who choose our spouses from among our cousins. My own parents are cousins too. But I grew up despising the practice. I never liked the idea of marrying within the family.
My father has two wives, and my mother is the younger one. We are 12 children in total—nine boys and three girls—and I happen to be the youngest. My two sisters were inseparable. They attended the same school, wore matching clothes, and were often mistaken for twins.
Our house was in the city, so many of our cousins lived with us to attend school. Eventually, my two sisters were married off to our twin cousins. Since I was still the youngest, no one had been chosen for me yet.
Ahmad is a close friend of my cousin, one of the twins who married my sister. We met for the first time during the reception party of my sister’s wedding. I was just a young girl in her prime, barely in my first year of senior secondary school. Unknown to me, he initially had feelings for my sister but had suppressed them, knowing our family rarely married outside. Seeing me, her lookalike, he instantly fell in love. For him, it was love at first sight.
Later, I travelled to our hometown during Eid break to visit my sisters, who were still waiting to join their husbands in their cities. That was when I reconnected with Ahmad. What started as a casual friendship soon blossomed into something deep. We were both ardent readers, and we exchanged Hints and Mujalla magazines. Before long, we fell in love.
At the time, I didn’t even believe in love. But with Ahmad, we didn’t need words. We communicated with our eyes, our presence. It was a love so deep, raw, and pure.
But it didn’t last long.
When my parents and brothers discovered the relationship, they were furious. Ahmad was just a secondary school certificate holder working as a cashier in a government secondary school in Gumel, our hometown. According to them, he had no future. My mother’s concern was that I would leave the city and settle in a rural town.
But I was ready to give it all up for love. I said to my mother, “Mama, ko a shago ne zan zauna idan har zan auri Ahmad.”
READ ALSO: NP’s Family Dynamics with Eesher: Judged her for cheating until I nearly did the same
Ahmad was gentle, calm, and kind—reminiscent of Maishunku in both appearance and nature. He loved me deeply and adapted to everything I liked. I loved Indian movies, Celine Dion, and reading, and he embraced all of it.
Even my dislike for “draw soups” became his as well—he stopped taking them so we wouldn’t need separate pots when we eventually married. 😔 We agreed to name our first daughter Maryam, after both my mother and his godmother. We had dreams, plans, and a perfect future… but fate had other ideas.
I would travel to Gumel at any opportunity just to see him. Whenever I was in town, we spent every moment together—until I was inevitably chased away, which became a common pattern.
I always believed I would not marry until I became a barrister. That had been my lifelong dream, and my father had promised to support me. But his elder brother insisted I must marry immediately after secondary school, as was the family tradition. If I refused to marry any of my cousins, and my parents decided that I wouldn’t be allowed to continue my education too, that was the ultimatum.
I got married—to my cousin’s friend, an elderly man older than my father. It wasn’t exactly a forced marriage but more of an escape. I couldn’t have Ahmad, and I hated the idea of marrying my cousin, so I chose someone neutral—someone desperate to marry me.
In my naïve mind, I believed he had just a few years left to live, considering his age. I didn’t love or hate him, and he promised to support my education. That was enough for me to say yes.
The whole situation caused serious chaos within the family. To settle it quickly, they decided to marry me off during Ramadan, just a week before Sallah.
Two days before the wedding, I saw Ahmad at his friend’s house. We had gone to distribute invitation cards with our driver, and I dismissed the driver so I could be alone with him. I begged him to elope with me.
But Ahmad refused. He said he would never jeopardize my future. As a man, he could get away with it and still retain contact with his family. But as a woman, it would destroy me.
In desperation, I offered him my virginity. Again, he declined. He said he would never want me to carry the weight of regret in my husband’s house.
At the time, I thought he didn’t love me enough. But with age and maturity, I now understand how selfless and honourable he truly was.
Ahmad promised he would never marry until I had spent at least ten years in my matrimonial home. I also begged him to go back to school, and he promised he would.
We cried like babies. We said our goodbyes—with tears, pain, and a thousand promises…..
Follow the Neptune Prime channel on WhatsApp:
Do you have breaking news, interview request, opinion, suggestion, or want your event covered? Email us at neptuneprime2233@gmail.com
