All I had to do was push the red button. The voice of the bearded man who had prepared me for this role echoed through my mind. "Aisha you will be doing Allah's work and Allah will reward you bountifully...", he had said. But now, at the point of 'doing Allah's work', I hesitated and like a flash I recall how it all began.

My name is Aisha and I am the 16th child of a family made up of a poor farmer who believes marrying 6 wives is part of his religious obligations. To make matters even worse, having as much as 25 children that he couldn't cater for, are gifts from Allah. As I flash back I recall that I heard my father was preparing to have a 7th wife. The said wife is barely 13 years old; 2 years younger than I. Who in the name of goodness could call her a wife? She is but a girl! My mum is the 4th wife and to date I fail to see any logical reason why my mother could have been so unreasonable to have decided to put her fate in the hands of this man.

My male siblings are usually given a plate at the age of 5 years old and are told to fend for themselves. That is the only inheritance I believe my dad gives to the boys. The other girls hands are given out to men old enough to be their father. I actually don't know my father's age and I doubt if he does himself, but I am certain I would kill myself immediately I find myself being betrothed to such a man.