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Part 1: Family Friction and Ultimatums
The next morning, Aliyu made no attempt to prepare for work; instead, his mind was consumed by a desperate search for a way out of his predicament. As was his custom after returning from the dawn prayer, he entered his father's quarters to greet him, even though they had walked to and from the mosque together.
His father was a handsome elder who exuded deep serenity. From his head down to his beard, his hair was completely snow-white. Although his advanced age was obvious at a single glance, it was equally clear that he had been exceptionally handsome in his youth. The elderly man looked up briefly when Aliyu entered but did not set down the book he was holding. Instead, his expression soured further. For three long minutes, he showed no sign of acknowledging his son.
Suddenly, two young men walked into the room. Remarkably, a warm smile instantly washed over the father's face. He set his book down with immense affection, his eyes locked onto the youths as they greeted him. The two young men cast a single, arrogant glance at Aliyu (Uncle Smart) before turning their faces away in disdain. Aliyu completely ignored their petty behavior; they were simply too insignificant to look him in the eye.
"Abba, good morning," they said, almost in unison.
The father nodded at them affectionately. "Are you already prepared to head out to the market, my blessed children?" he replied warmly.
"Yes, Abba," they answered, rising to leave.
He showered them with blessings. However, from the moment they gave their brief answer, they didn't utter another word. Just as they reached the exit, their father stopped them, a look of mild anxiety on his face. “Nabeel, if it isn't too much of a burden, I would appreciate it if you could give your mothers some money for today's groceries. I woke up without a single Naira on me, and there is absolutely no prospect of getting any money today.”
Nabeel scowled deeply. Tilting his head back arrogantly, he whined, “Abba, you have to understand that things are tight right now. Who else besides you is supposed to handle this house's grocery money? Besides, just yesterday you made me give you two thousand Naira.”
"And I gave him one thousand Naira yesterday too!" the other brother chimed in quickly, his face flushed with irritation.
Their father offered a small, forced smile, while Aliyu felt a sharp, painful sting in his chest hearing them speak so disrespectfully to their father over such a trivial amount. Their father was a heroic provider who had exhausted his lifetime strength to raise them. Yet today, they had become successful, and everyone begrudged helping him. The two brothers angrily tossed down a mere five hundred Naira each—a far cry from what he had asked for—and stormed out in a huff.
Aliyu felt a cold numbness wash over his body. Gathering his courage, he finally greeted his father, who was busy picking up the book after pocketing the one thousand Naira his other sons had left behind. Instead of returning the greeting, his father asked harshly, “Did they fire you from this job too?”
Aliyu was unable to answer. He lowered his head further as his heart burned with anguish—not because of his own hard fate or his father's harsh accusations, but because of the deep worry he felt for the painful reality his father was living through.
"Am I not speaking to Aliyu?!" his father barked, his anger boiling over.
“Please forgive me, Abba. It's just that...”
“It's just what? What do you want to tell me? By Allah, listen to me closely: this time, I will not tolerate your nonsense. Let me tell you the plain truth: if this is another one of your foolish stories, you had better pack your bags and leave my house today! I cannot continue to suffer because of you after everything I went through during your childhood. I fed you, I clothed you, and I put you through both Islamic school and Western education all the way to a Master's degree, yet I am still saddled with your burdens! Look at your younger brothers; they stand firmly on their own two feet, and some are even married, yet I am still feeding you! What kind of life is this? I swear, even if the skies collapse on you this time, I am finished with your irresponsibility. Get up and get out of my sight! I give you until tonight to clear out, you useless, freeloading dynamic failure!”
His eyes turning bloodshot with unshed tears, Aliyu looked up slightly at his father. “Please forgive me, Abba. May Allah calm your anger. For Allah's sake, forgive me.”
His father gave him the silent treatment and refused to utter another word. Aliyu knew exactly what his father's silence meant. He stood up with a heavy, suffocating weight in his chest and walked out. He initially headed toward the young men's quarters but changed his mind mid-way. His chest burned with agony. He felt a desperate urge to burst into tears, but his stubborn pride and resilience held them back.
The street outside was bustling with neighbors going about their day. In his current state, Aliyu could not bear to speak to anyone, so he attempted to turn back inside. Suddenly, a car—which he had noticed upon stepping out but had purposefully ignored—honked its horn at him. He refused to turn around until the horn sounded a second time, accompanied by the loud call of his name. He froze instantly but kept his back turned until Uncle Yousuf and his friend Ahmad caught up to him.
"Please, have patience with us," Uncle Yousuf said softly.
Those words finally compelled Aliyu to turn around…
Part 2: The Resignation and a Sinister Abduction
Aliyu reluctantly extended his hand for a handshake without looking either of them in the eye. Uncle Yousuf smiled warmly, grasping his hand, while Ahmad offered a small chuckle at the subtle, sharp glares Aliyu kept shooting his way.
"If it isn't too much trouble, I would really like us to have a talk, please, Smart Mawashi," Uncle Yousuf requested.
For the first time, Aliyu raised his troubled eyes to look at Uncle Yousuf. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but then closed it in silence. Uncle Yousuf smiled gently again and pleaded, “Please.”
Seeing no way out, Aliyu reluctantly agreed. However, instead of sitting inside the car as Uncle Yousuf had suggested, they walked into the entrance hall of Aliyu's family house and sat on a wooden bench. After a few moments of tense silence, Uncle Yousuf took a deep breath.
"When I returned to the office yesterday, Aliyu, my secretary handed me your resignation letter and the car keys. However, I wasn't satisfied with the brief explanation written there, which is why I asked Ahmad to accompany me so I could see you personally," Uncle Yousuf explained, his eyes searching Aliyu's face for answers.
"I simply resigned from the job," Aliyu stated firmly, keeping his composure.
"But why?" Ahmad pressed, staring intently at him.
Aliyu nodded slowly, letting out a heavy sigh before addressing Uncle Yousuf directly, bypassing Ahmad. “Because I cannot do it, Alhaji. I am a man whose heart cannot tolerate certain things, even though I am a poor man desperately looking for a livelihood.”
"That is exactly how every honorable man should be, Aliyu Hydar," Uncle Yousuf replied. “But you still haven't told us the actual reason.”
A painful smile broke across Aliyu's face for the first time. He glanced at Uncle Yousuf and then looked away. “What is the use of repeating something that is unimportant or already in the past, Alhaji? I have resigned, and that is the end of it. I know that, Insha Allah, you will find someone far better than me. As for me, I will look to the future; perhaps my destiny lies elsewhere.”
"I knew you wouldn't tolerate her behavior like the previous drivers did, because you are completely different from them," Uncle Yousuf said softly. "But someone like Aliyu Hydar is exactly who I have been praying to find, because you are the only one capable of handling her and bending her stubborn will. I know you still do not truly know who I am, Aliyu. I didn't seek you out for this job just because you needed money. From the very first day I saw you with my friend—who happens to be your friend Ahmad's elder brother—my heart told me that you were the chosen soul to guide her life out of the dark.
She is completely wild and rebellious; she grew up that way, which is why straightening her out has proven impossible for all of us. At first, we dismissed her actions as youthful foolishness, believing she would outgrow it. But that day has refused to come, and we don't know if it ever will, or if it already passed without us realizing. I know you have younger sisters, perhaps even elder ones. You can imagine the profound agony I feel in my heart by placing them in her shoes. Why can't you understand my desperation...?"
The raw vulnerability and pain in Uncle Yousuf's voice forced Aliyu to exhale a heavy breath. Turning slightly rigid, he replied without looking at them, “If you, her own biological parents, have utterly failed to discipline and bend her will, how do you expect a complete stranger like me to succeed? Her father is alive, her mother is alive, and you—her relatives—are all right here. Alhaji, please, forgive me, but I absolutely cannot do it. I despise disrespect; I cannot tolerate it from anyone. I refuse to accept humiliation or degradation, despite being a poor man looking for work. I highly respect your status, so for Allah's sake, let us part ways amicably. Our connection began on a good note, and I will never forget your immense kindness to me. Please extend my greetings to your family.”
With that final declaration, Aliyu stood up to leave. Ahmad quickly called out to stop him. Aliyu hesitated for a moment before turning back. Uncle Yousuf also stood up, a gentle smile on his face. He stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on Aliyu's shoulder.
“Very well, Aliyu. I understand your position, and I respect you deeply. I admire a man who stands firmly by his principles and guards his dignity. I will long regret losing you. However, I ask a single favor of you: please come to the office tomorrow to collect your hard-earned settlement. I do not want you to say no to me.”
Aliyu opened his mouth to protest, but Ahmad quickly cut him off. “For Allah's sake, don't say no, Smart. I know you aren't an argumentative person; don't start now with Big Brother Yousuf. Furthermore, think deeply about his request; I know you have the unique ability to help them...”
Aliyu ballled up his fists and glared sharply at Ahmad, which made Ahmad chuckle nervously and leave his sentence unfinished. Aliyu averted his gaze and muttered, “Fine, Insha Allah. If I find the time, I will come by the office. But you know I am only agreeing to this out of deep respect for Big Brother Boss.”
"I know, Mawashi. Big Brother Boss highly appreciates your grace," Ahmad replied. Uncle Yousuf simply smiled as he listened to their exchange. He was deeply impressed by Aliyu's mature, dignified demeanor. He deeply admired disciplined young men, who were rare in an age where most youths were completely consumed by reckless vanity.
Aliyu escorted them all the way to their car. After they drove away, he found himself completely unable to step back inside his family house; he had no idea how he would explain losing yet another job to his mother (Ammah). Although Ahmad's parting words had softened his resolve slightly, he still had not decided to accept the job back.
However, remembering his father's terrifying ultimatum made his heart race with panic. He knew his father was an uncompromising man who never went back on his word; if he said yes, it was a definitive yes, and if he said no, it was an absolute no. Left with no options, Aliyu walked out of his neighborhood on foot. Plagued by restlessness and having nowhere to go, he simply began walking aimlessly down the main road.
He walked a very long distance, lost in thought, until he suddenly sensed that he was being closely followed. He froze in suspicion, but looking around, he saw no pedestrian trailing him, nor did any of the commercial motorcyclists, tricycle (Keke Napep) drivers, or motorists look suspicious. Steel threw his shoulders back and continued walking, yet the unshakable feeling of being followed persisted. This time, instead of turning around, he crossed the road and turned into a secluded side street.
After walking quite a distance down the street, he noticed a roadside carpenter's workshop. He skillfully paused under their canopy, pretending to adjust his shoelaces. Peering through a large mirror resting against the wall, he spotted two young men trying to blend into the background. Aliyu was puzzled; although he was a man of rigid principles, he had no known enemies or personal feuds. He kept walking to test their intentions, even though he was unfamiliar with the layout of these alleyways.
As they reached a dead end at the far end of the street, Aliyu realized he was in grave danger. His heart hammered against his chest, but he forced himself to remain calm. He turned down a narrow path that he hoped would lead back to the main road, but the moment he turned the sharp corner of the alley, the men struck. They completely surrounded him, blocking his path from both front and back.
Aliyu calmly scanned his surroundings, his eyes locking onto a commercial tricycle (Keke Napep) that had abruptly pulled up and parked directly in front of him. Keeping his composure and silently invoking the name of Allah, he demanded, “Who on earth are you people?”
"You will find out soon enough, but not here," one of them hissed arrogantly, revealing a handgun tucked tightly into his waistband.
A firearm was nothing to be trifled with. No matter how physically strong or stubborn a man was, the person holding a gun always possessed absolute dominion over him. Realizing he was completely outmatched, Aliyu climbed into the tricycle while his mind raced with terrifying possibilities. The two men who had trailed him slid in, sandwiching him tightly between them. The driver accelerated, speeding out of the alley. The moment they cleared the area, the kidnapper on his left threw a thick cloth over Aliyu's face. The other quickly grabbed it and secured a tight blindfold over his eyes, while the first attacker pressed the cold muzzle of the gun firmly against Aliyu's ribs to keep him from resisting. Though consumed by terror internally, Aliyu maintained a completely stoic exterior, silently reciting prayers and invoking the protection of Allah…
Part 3: Domestic Turmoil and the Blindness of Spoiling a Child
Meanwhile, inside the grand mansion of Mawaddat's family, the thumping bass of music blasted loudly from her upstairs bedroom. Even though it was a soft track by the pop artist Shakira, the volume was turned up to its maximum limit, echoing loudly through the main living room below. No one in the house had laid eyes on her all morning, and the clock now read a few minutes past 8:00 AM.
Most of the younger children stepped out of their bedrooms with dark, irritated expressions; the roaring music had completely ruined their morning sleep. Even the young boys, Suhaib and Imran—who usually had their morning sleep disrupted by school schedules—felt suffocated by her behavior. Imran was particularly furious because he was desperately trying to complete his school assignment but couldn't comprehend a single line over the noise.
The children gathered around the dining table, their faces twisted in absolute frustration. It was in this tense atmosphere that Daddy and Mommy walked into the dining area. A single glance at Mommy revealed she was absolutely enraged, while Daddy looked completely unbothered, as if nothing was amiss. He completely ignored his children's morning greetings, his entire focus fixed on calling out for Tabawa, their domestic maid.
Tabawa ran out of the kitchen in a frantic rush, a small cooking ladle clasped tightly in her hand, indicating she was mid-meal preparation.
"Where is my Baby?" Daddy demanded immediately, pointing toward the upstairs bedrooms.
Tabawa glanced upstairs and bowed respectfully. “She is still asleep, Alhaji. She explicitly instructed me to wake her up at exactly 9:30 AM.”
"Then where on earth is that blasting music coming from?" Mommy interjected angrily.
"She was the one who turned it on before sleeping," Tabawa replied quietly.
Daddy simply waved his hand, dismissing the maid back to her duties without another word. He then turned to look at Mommy, whose face had twisted into a scowl of pure disgust, before scanning the rest of his children.
Hafiz—who was bringing a cup of tea to his lips and was the immediate younger brother to Lulu (Mawaddat)—could no longer hold his peace. “Humm, Daddy, so you are seriously not going to say anything about this?”
"About what?" Daddy asked defensively.
“About Aunty Lu! Even an unbeliever wouldn't blast music like that and go to sleep. And I am absolutely certain she didn't even observe her dawn (Asubahi) prayers...”
"Shut up! I will not tolerate your senseless foolishness and baseless slander in this house!" Daddy barked back defensively. “Since when did Hafiz become her age mate or guardian? And who on earth told you she didn't pray?”
Mommy could no longer contain her burning rage. "No one needs to tell him anything; it is an open secret that everyone in this house knows!" she cried out, her voice trembling with emotion. “I truly do not understand the absolute, blind love you have for Mawaddat in this house! You need to realize that this isn't parental affection—you are systematically destroying her life and future as a woman! If every girl were raised with this level of lawlessness in her family home, you would never have found a decent woman to marry as a wife, Alhaji! For Allah's sake, what do you want me to do with my life regarding Mawaddat?”
Daddy glared furiously at her and the children, his chest heaving with explosive anger. Knowing that a massive screaming match was about to erupt, Mommy abruptly stood up from the dining table and stormed out of the area, her heart burning with agony and deep emotional pain. She felt completely helpless against her husband's toxic indulgence of their eldest daughter. He consistently packaged a filthy, undisciplined lifestyle as parental love. No matter how hard Mommy fought to correct Mawaddat, her husband's interference only made things deteriorate further. Slowly, bitter, painful tears began to spill down her cheeks…
### Part 4: A Uncle's Rage and Spiritual Devastation
Back in the living room, just as Mommy stormed out, Uncle Yousuf walked through the front door. The children instantly brightened and rushed to welcome him, but seeing his dark, stormy expression, their enthusiasm withered away. Daddy, whose eyes were fixed on his brother, left the dining table and walked over to meet him.
Uncle Yousuf sat down close to his elder brother, staring intensely at him. Yousuf deeply loved his elder brother, who was the only surviving male sibling he had left in the entire world.
"Is everything alright? Why do you look so incredibly tense and angry?" Daddy asked affectionately, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"It's nothing," Uncle Yousuf muttered softly. He then shifted his gaze toward Mawaddat's section of the house. “What is the meaning of that loud music?”
Daddy looked upstairs and offered a small, dismissive laugh. “You know how it is; that's just your favorite niece being herself.”
Uncle Yousuf said absolutely nothing. He simply closed his eyes in deep, agonizing frustration over his brother's blind indulgence. After two tense minutes, he opened his eyes and asked, “Brother, what have you decided regarding the young man I brought to be her driver?”
A wide, dismissive smile spread across Dad
