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IN BA NI HAUSA NOVELS DESCRIPTION
Emotional Friction and A Sudden Discovery
"...I mean my wife."
Fahad noticed she fell completely silent, saying absolutely nothing. After a long moment, she simply stood up, dusting off her clothes.
"May Allah make it a source of blessing and grant you a peaceful marriage..."
Fahad quickly rose and grabbed her hand, trying to hold her back.
"Come on, Husnah... Please don't be angry... Forgive me, okay? Just stand here and listen to me..."
Her eyes, which were rapidly turning a shade of angry red, locked onto him.
"Did you hear me say you offended me? I have always known she is the one in your heart; she is the one you love and cherish. So what is new about this that I didn't already know? You never truly loved me anyway. You love her, while I am just trapped in a one-sided love..."
He squeezed her hands tighter, locking them securely in both of his.
"Husnah, I swear by Allah that I love you too... Why would you say she is the only one I love? I swear, I didn't even know anything about this remarriage until just a few moments ago... Come on, my girl."
She threw a harsh glare at him in the dark space they stood in, shouting aggressively, "Let go of my hands! Go back and live with your precious wife.... As for me, just know that I am calling off our marriage because I will absolutely never share a home with her!"
With a sudden movement, he pulled both of her hands, pulling her flush against his body. He held her tightly in a warm embrace, intending to soothe her, but she fiercely resisted giving him the chance. Ultimately, in the heat of the moment, neither of them realized what exactly came over them; they suddenly lost themselves and began passionately kissing each other. This was something that had never once occurred between them—previously, if she had even tried to touch his hand, he would aggressively scold her.
Finally, she buried her face against his chest, weeping softly.
"Please forgive me, Husnah... I hate seeing you cry like this... And you must understand, it's not that I love Bilkisu more than you... You are always in my mind, too... Right now, no matter how I try to explain it, you won't understand, but I am assuring you that when we get married, I'm going to show you just how much you mean to me..."
He continued to console her with sweet, romantic words, but she refused to listen further. Breaking away from his grip, she ran inside the house, wiping away her tears. Fahad was left to fold up the mat they had been sitting on and took it inside. He left the house feeling utterly drained and hollow, overwhelmed with a deep sense of pity for her, while simultaneously feeling guilty for being the sole cause of her tears.
He tried calling her phone repeatedly on his way home, but she refused to answer. He stopped to perform his prayers along the way before heading back to his family house. He was incredibly hungry, yet he felt too embarrassed to face everyone, especially since his aunts, including Anty Asabe, had been calling to congratulate him, playfully calling him a "groom." Fortuitously, upon entering his room, he found Abba eating a meal of biski tuwo with kubewa (okra) soup. He sat down and they finished the meal together. Just then, Salim walked in.
"Here is your laptop...," Salim said, handing it over. "How did it go with your girl?"
"She's furious. I've been calling her repeatedly, but she refuses to pick up..."
"Well, you have to find a way to soothe her..."
"I have to, definitely... I'll keep trying."
Salim then left the room, as Abba had already stepped out earlier. To Fahad's absolute astonishment, upon booting up his laptop, he saw a crystal-clear photo of Bilkisu displayed as his desktop wallpaper. It turned out that all the photos Salim had forcefully deleted from his phone a long time ago had been carefully backed up and saved here for him. A wave of profound joy instantly washed over Fahad, and he began scrolling through the pictures one by one, gently tracing her face on the screen.
Part 2: Bilkisu's Shock and Her New Reality
Bilkisu had just returned home from the Islamic school she attended every Saturday and Sunday. Just as she stepped out of the shower, Ammah peeked into her room and informed her that Abba wanted to see her. Abba had just returned from Garko the previous day, where he had spent the night. She hurriedly threw on a long gown, grabbed her hijab, and walked over to Abba's wing. She found him sitting with Ammah, who was busy packing his luggage for his Umrah pilgrimage scheduled for later that evening.
"Mai Gado... take this," Abba said, handing her some money.
She reached out and accepted the cash.
"This is your dowry (sadaki)... Your marriage was officially solemnized yesterday. Insha Allah, in about three to four weeks, you will move into your husband's house. Exercise patience, remain strictly obedient to your husband, and live with him in absolute peace..."
"Alright, Abba..." she muttered softly.
"May Allah bless you... You may go now."
She stood up, her head throbbing painfully and spinning with confusion as she left the parlor. The moment she exited, Abba turned to Ammah and explained:
"The father of her former husband came to me directly to seek her hand in marriage again. I immediately agreed that we should solemnize the union so she could return to her husband's home. After all, a renovated building is far better than starting a fresh foundation from scratch... Her remaining single was honestly weighing heavily on my mind. Since Allah brought this opportunity forward, it is best we seal it."
"May Allah grant them a peaceful union and let only death separate them," Ammah prayed.
"Ameen. At least now she will finally settle down in one place, and this constant back-and-forth traveling of hers will come to an end."
"That's very true."
The moment Bilkisu entered her bedroom, she burst into uncontrollable tears. She didn't harbor any bitterness toward Abba's ultimate choice, but deep down, she utterly detested this sudden marriage. What kind of marriage is sealed completely behind one's back without a single warning, without even letting her see who the groom is? Ever since her marriage to Hamood collapsed, she had prayed night and day for Allah to bless her with a righteous husband who would love her unconditionally for God's sake. Yet, absolute silence met her prayers; not a single suitor had ever come to seek her hand.
Even when her relative, Iyallo, had aggressively tried to pitch her marriage to Mudan, he had flatly and rudely rejected the offer, stating clearly that he had a young girlfriend and would never marry a divorcee. Now, Mudan's wife had even given birth. Because of this, Iyallo frequently visited their house, creating massive scenes and screaming at Bilkisu for refusing to secure a husband. Iyallo rarely let a month pass without coming to disrupt the peace of the household. During her very last visit, Iyallo had declared that she would force Bilkisu to marry Alhaji Ilya, who was technically an extended relative.
Bilkisu wept bitterly because her mind was completely convinced that Alhaji Ilya was the mystery groom. He was a stereotypical, wealthy village patriarch who already had three wives and a mountain of children. The sheer scale of the massive cooking pots used in his household was enough to terrify anyone. To make matters worse, he didn't even live in Garko; he resided in a very remote, deep village, which added to her sheer terror.
After crying her heart out, she offered her gratitude to Allah and forced herself to calm down, though her joy was entirely gone. That night, Abba departed for Umrah. Bilkisu spent the night battling a severe migraine. The following morning, she couldn't even show up for work, locking herself entirely inside her room. Out of desperation, she called Maama, weeping as she explained that Abba had married her off to a village Alhaji and she hadn't even seen the man yet. Maama comforted her with gentle, soothing words, assuring her that Insha Allah, she would eventually see the immense hidden blessings and goodness in this marriage. When she anxiously asked Maama if she knew who the groom was, Maama claimed she didn't know. They hung up, and Bilkisu remained trapped in a state of constant dread, especially since Ammah flatly refused to discuss the matter. Left with no choice, she resigned her fate to the will of Allah.
Part 3: The Confrontation and Psychological Warfare
Five days after the secret wedding solemnization, Fahad dressed up elegantly to visit the house, intending to greet Ammah and formally express his gratitude. For days, he had begged Salim to accompany him, but Salim kept fabricating endless excuses, prompting Fahad to make the journey all alone. He met only Ammah, who welcomed him warmly and instructed Rabi to bring him some refreshments, though he didn't touch a single drop of water. Ammah felt a wave of maternal shyness around him, and after a brief, slightly awkward greeting, she retired to her bedroom, instructing Rabi to guide Fahad directly to Bilkisu's room.
Knowing that Bilkisu strictly hated people entering her room uninvited from the outside, Rabi simply stopped at the corridor, pointed toward the door, and left. Fahad removed his shoes and quietly stepped inside.
He found her lying face down on the bed, enjoying the crisp breeze, as the room was completely cooled by the air conditioner. The familiar, signature sweet fragrance that he had known from the very beginning completely filled the space. Her hair was neatly braided into kalba extensions without any headscarf, and she was dressed in a short, light-pink sleeveless gown that stopped right at her knees. Looking at her, she appeared incredibly small and youthful in his eyes. If one didn't know her true story, they would easily mistake her for a 22-year-old girl due to her petite, well-maintained frame...
Standing over her like someone completely transfixed by a television screen, he stared down at her intently for over ten minutes. He analyzed her features with a piercing gaze, attempting to discern any physical changes her body might have undergone during the long months they had spent apart.
He quietly sat down on the edge of the bed beside her, keeping his eyes locked onto her. Suddenly, his phone began to ring. Moving with lightning speed, he pressed the volume buttons to suppress the noise, quickly switching it to silent before returning his full attention to her. She shifted from lying face down onto her back, stretching her arms and arching her chest while letting out a deep yawn. Despite the movement, she remained fast asleep; she hadn't enjoyed a peaceful night's rest since the eve of the day Abba abruptly dropped the bombshell about her new marriage.
Looking down at her chest, which was completely free of a bra, Fahad felt a sharp, sudden pang of intense jealousy. The stinging reminder that she had actually been married to another man after him rushed into his mind. He possessed a fiercely possessive, volatile nature when it came to jealousy, especially regarding her. His gaze then drifted down to her thighs, which were partially exposed due to her gown riding up slightly when she rolled over. Her skin looked incredibly radiant and smooth. He systematically scanned her body from bottom to top, and then back down again.
His eyes locked onto her calves, and he bit his lip softly. He had never truly paid attention to her lower legs until today. Staring at her calves, his mind suddenly flashed back to a popular relationship post he had read on Facebook a long time ago regarding a woman's physical traits. He vividly recalled the post claiming that a woman's performance and "sweetness" in bed could be deduced from the fullness of her calves; if they were remarkably shapely and full, she was bound to be extraordinary. To his sudden curiosity, his eyes quickly darted toward her hips to verify another claim from that same post. He remembered feeling intensely embarrassed reading it that day when a friend randomly tagged him on it.
As he was busy analyzing her hips and upper body, her phone suddenly burst into a loud ring. Still half-asleep, she reached out blindly, answered the call, and pressed it to her ear with her eyes tightly shut.
"My friend, why are you so quiet...? I've been fully ready for ages..."
Through her hazy, sleepy state, she recognized Khulsum's voice. She had completely forgotten that they had scheduled a visit to the hospital to check on Christy, their colleague who had undergone a Cesarean section two days prior. Tragically, the baby had been stillborn, so they had agreed to visit her today out of mutual respect and friendship.
"I am so sorry, Khalifa's mom. I swear, a deep sleep completely overpowered me... Give me just 10 minutes, I am on my way..."
Up until this moment, she had absolutely no idea that another human being was standing right inside her room, despite sensing a very distinct, rich masculine cologne filling the air since she woke up. The moment she started speaking on the phone, Fahad had quietly taken several steps back, maintaining a calculated distance from her, unlike before.
She sat up abruptly. Fortunately for her, a sudden urge to sneeze took over. She intended to adjust her short gown properly and head straight to the bathroom. However, a sudden instinct prompted her to look over her shoulder. The sight of a man standing right there sent a violent wave of terror through her entire body. She fought hard to maintain her composure and control her breathing, but her heart was hammering wildly against her ribs, and her hands trembled with sheer fright.
Squinting her eyes, she looked at his face. It was unmistakably Fahad. But what on earth was he doing inside her private bedroom? That single question looped endlessly in her mind.
"Hey, what is the meaning of this?" she demanded, forcing her voice to sound firm and steady.
To her utter shock, he didn't even look her way. His attention was completely fixed on the phone in his hand, his facial expression dark and rigid, as if he had just received news of a tragedy. She stood frozen, studying him intently. In the year and a half that she hadn't seen him, he had filled out significantly into a fully mature, commanding man. Though he hadn't gained excessive weight, he had filled out beautifully, though he still maintained a remarkably lean, slender model physique. He also sported a sharply trimmed, rebellious beard—the exact trendy style young men wear when they are exuding youthful confidence.
She stared at him for a long time, yet he stubbornly refused to lift his eyes to acknowledge her. He was dressed in a premium, heavily embroidered milk-colored cotton shadda outfit, complete with a traditional cap, which he had removed and placed on his lap. His face and overall skin tone looked exceptionally bright and smooth, yet his youthful features remained undeniable. The fact that he completely ignored her voice after she spoke directly to him irritated her immensely.
"Hey, I am talking to you! What brought you into my room? Do you think you can just wander into my private space however you please?"
Only then did he slowly raise his eyes to look at her, but he remained dead silent. Ultimately, she was forced to look away, instantly overwhelmed by his incredibly powerful, intimidating aura. Fuming with rage, she grabbed her hijab and stormed out of the room. She marched straight to Ammah's wing, demanding to know what Fahad was doing inside her bedroom. Ammah calmly looked up and retorted that since he was in his own wife's bedroom, why on earth should anyone be questioning what brought him there?
Bilkisu walked back to her room, her entire body suddenly feeling weak and drained. The reality crashed down on her: he was the man she had been remarried to for a second time. Their paths hadn't truly ended after all, and only Allah knew when this tumultuous bond would ever reach its final conclusion. She knew she could never be ungrateful to Allah's decree, but in all honesty, this was absolutely not what she wanted. She never wanted to experience this humbling vulnerability with Fahad. She dreaded him losing respect for her to the point of treating her with contempt. True to her fears, she was already witnessing a new, arrogant side to him; he hadn't even offered a basic greeting, shattering any hope that she could easily command or control him like she did during their past life.
Fuming silently, she grabbed her towel hanging behind the door and locked herself in the bathroom. As the water ran, she began overthinking. Given how completely shameless this boy is, he will definitely expect to visit me in bed, won't he?
"Subhanallahi... May Allah forbid it... At this rate, I might actually die from embarrassment..." she muttered to herself under the shower.
Meanwhile, Fahad sat outside on the bed, quietly listening to the sound of the running water from the bathroom. He knew exactly what she was doing—she was intentionally waiting for him to greet her first out of respect, just as he used to do in the past. But what she failed to realize was that things had fundamentally changed. If she expected him to break the ice, they could easily spend a whole year in total silence. From now on, she would be the one bowing to greet him, whether she liked it or not, because he was absolutely never going to tolerate any disrespect or seniority complexes from her again. He fully viewed himself as the absolute head of the household, far superior to her.
A smug smile played on his lips as his mind wandered back to the relationship post he had found on Facebook. He had spent a considerable amount of time searching for that specific article detailing the physical traits of a highly passionate woman. It had been nearly a year since he first read it, but since Facebook archives everything, he successfully unearthed it after a deep search. According to the post: a woman with small, intense eyes possesses an exceptionally high bedroom drive; a woman whose second toe is visibly longer than her big toe has deep, intense desires; a woman with wide, pronounced hips and a heavy backside possesses endless stamina; a woman with a full chest has an abundance of physical needs; and a woman with a very tiny, delicate mouth possesses the perfect, quintessential feminine anatomy.
Right in the middle of his reading, the bathroom door swung open, and Bilkisu stepped out, her face completely void of any warmth. Fahad instantly wiped any emotion from his face, pretending to be deeply engrossed in his phone, reviewing the post for nearly the fifth time. He hadn't cared to verify any of these physical traits on Husnah, but when it came to Bilkisu, he was determined to decode every single detail.
Breathing heavily in silent fury, she sat down and reached for her body lotion. What infuriated her above all else was his complete refusal to greet her, coupled with the way he entirely ignored her questions with sheer, arrogant silence. Trapped under her massive hijab, she clumsily rubbed the lotion onto her skin. The weather was transitioning; although yesterday and today had been relatively warm, skipping lotion after a bath during this season left the skin looking completely dry and ashy.
From the corner of his eye, Fahad stealthily monitored her every move. His eyes zeroed in directly on her feet, and true to the article's words, her second toe was visibly longer than her big toe. Right at that moment, she stood up and walked over to her wardrobe, turning her back completely toward him as she searched for an outfit. He locked his eyes firmly onto her pronounced hips.
I will definitely find it all out... he thought to himself with a wicked, mischievous inner laugh.
You arrogant, status-loving woman. So you still haven't changed your old habit of wanting to act like the boss... Very soon, we are going to clearly differentiate between the two of us who holds the true authority... he added in his thoughts.
She pulled out a long atamfa gown, grumbling under her breath:
"Imagine just barging into my room and sitting there staring at me... I absolutely despise being suffocated..."
With that, she marched back toward the bathroom, continuing her silent rant. Fahad heard every single word clearly; his hearing was exceptionally sharp, capable of picking up the faintest sound or movement. It was a trait that often caused friction between him and his older brother, Abba, because even if Abba coughed slightly while Fahad was asleep, Fahad would wake up instantly. His hearing was as sensitive as a serpent's; even if someone stood a distance away whispering about him, he would catch it perfectly, though he often chose to ignore it and pretend he heard nothing.
A few minutes later, she emerged again, holding her hijab in her hand. She stood by the bathroom door to hang up her towel, then walked fully into the room just as her phone began to ring loudly. She answered it hurriedly:
"I'm right here... Just step outside your gate. I'll arrive in a commercial tricycle (keke napep), and we can head out immediately..."
She tossed the phone onto the bed and walked over to the vanity mirror, liberally spraying herself with perfume. They shared an identical obsession with fine fragrances; she never grew tired of buying perfumes, even if she already had twenty bottles lined up on her mirror. She selected a maroon veil to match the subtle maroon patterns on her gown, picked up a milk-colored handbag, grabbed her phone, and walked over to her shoe rack. She slipped on a pair of flat shoes and headed confidently toward the door, carrying herself with an air of absolute superiority.
Just as she reached the door, he called out in a cold, commanding tone:
"Where do you think you're going?..."
Ignoring him completely, she reached for the doorknob. He instantly raised his voice, repeating sharply, "I asked, where are you going?!"
Determined to defy him, she threw the door open to step out, but in a split second, he lunged forward, locked his arm firmly around her waist, and violently yanked her backward into the room. She hadn't even heard him get up from the bed, let alone trace his silent movement. He slammed the door shut, locking it. Her face contorted into a deep scowl, and his face mirrored her cold, unyielding expression. She averted her gaze, breathing heavily, while he stared her down without blinking a single time.
"What on earth is the meaning of this?! What kind of absolute disrespect is th—"
Before she could even finish her sentence, he forcefully pulled her by her arm, slamming her chest directly against his. Their chests were pinned tightly together, their breaths instantly mingling as they gasped for air. She forced her eyes up to look at him, and he glared back down into her eyes with raw intensity.
"Whose permission did you seek before attempting to walk out of that door?....... Huh?.... I am asking you a direct question.... I said, who did you ask?" he thundered.
He watched as her eyes welled up with thick tears, turning red as if she were about to burst into a violent sob. In a trembling, bitter voice, she snapped back:
"Nobody!.... Now let go of me right now!..."
He squeezed her arm even tighter, keeping her pinned firmly against his chest.
"You have the audacity to tell me 'nobody'?!.... If you dare challenge me, I swear by Allah, from this day onward, you will never take a single step out of this house again.... You will rot inside this building until the exact day I deem it fit to take you out wherever I please..."
Leaning in closer, his breath hot against her face, he growled, "Furthermore, you better watch your mouth and learn how to speak to me properly, otherwise, I will make you regret it bitterly..."
He violently flung her away from him. The sudden force caused her handbag and keys to scatter across the floor as she landed heavily on the bed. She instantly bolted upright, framing herself as if ready for a physical fight. The sight almost made him burst into laughter, but he forcefully maintained his stern, menacing facade.
He began advancing toward her slowly, mocking her posture.
"Oh, so you want to throw hands with me now? I asked, are you trying to fight me...?"
Before she could offer a response, the vibrant ringtone of Ali Jita's song suddenly erupted from his phone: “The sun and the moon shine bright, my princess, but you are my eternal love... even if the sun and the moon stop shining, my princess, you are my forever love..... I love you baby..... Queen baby....”
Fahad stepped back and picked up the phone. He knew instantly it was Husnah, as she was the only one he had assigned that specific ringtone to.
He casually leaned against her bedside drawer, answering the call with a deliberate smile.
"Hello, sweet Ma'u.... Are you still holding a grudge against me?" he asked smoothly. Ever since he informed her about his forced remarriage to Bilkisu, she had consistently refused to answer his calls, until this very moment.
"Ya Fahad, I swear to God, you give me far too many headaches..." Husnah's voice drifted through.
Fahad intentionally switched the phone to speakerphone, ensuring that Bilkisu—who was still standing there with her hands resting angrily on her waist—could hear every single word of the conversation.
"I am so incredibly sorry, my one true love... Please forgive your Prince. Otherwise, my heart condition will act up again, and you know very well that I only developed this heart disease because of how deeply I love you..."
Husnah let out a deep sigh on the other end, her voice instantly softening.
"No, Ya Fahad, for God's sake, please stop saying that. I can never bear the thought of losing you... I have completely forgiven you. I promise never to be upset with you again.... I don't even know what came over me that day to make me act so angry with you... I am so sorry..."
"Jealousy..." Fahad murmured with a smirk, stealing a quick glance at Bilkisu. Bilkisu was visibly vibrating with pure rage, huffing and puffing like an enraged bull.
"You're right.... I admit I am incredibly jealous when it comes to you. I absolutely hate the idea of sharing you with anyone else, but I have no choice. I will accept whatever it takes..."
"That is exactly why I love you so much.... I love you, my girl..."
Bilkisu couldn't stand to listen to another syllable of their sickening, provocative conversation. She bolted back into the bathroom, slamming the door shut with a deafening CRASH that reverberated so loudly it was picked up by Husnah over the phone. Fahad concluded his call with Husnah, and even then, Bilkisu remained locked inside. He placed his traditional cap back on his head, fully aware that she was utterly consumed with rage because he had barred her from going out and had brazenly flirted with another woman right in front of her. Though he couldn't be entirely certain if her reaction stemmed from pure jealousy or simple frustration, he vowed to uncover the truth.
What Bilkisu failed to comprehend was that all the sweet, romantic declarations he was feeding Husnah over the phone were indirectly targeted at her. He knew she was too blinded by anger to realize it.
He walked over to the bathroom door, leaning his ear against it, but heard absolute silence. He knew she wasn't actually using the bathroom for anything.
"You heard exactly what I said, right? Don't let me ever hear that you stepped foot outside this house... Furthermore, call that friend of yours right now and tell her that I have officially canceled this outing."
From behind the locked door, her voice erupted in a fierce, hysterical scream:
"I am going out anyway! Do whatever you want... And I am absolutely not going to call her to say any such thing! If you want her called, why don't you call her yourself?! Useless, stressful man!..."
"If you dare cross that line... well, if you're not a coward, why don't you open this door and face me?..." He let out a loud, mocking scoff and added, "As for me, I have zero business calling another man's woman; I know exactly where God has set my boundaries and I stay in my lane... From now on, the only exception I grant you is to leave this house strictly for your job. Aside from work, if you dare wander anywhere else, you will have Allah to answer to."
Without waiting for her reply, he turned and walked out of the room. As he left, he could hear her phone ringing continuously from the bed; though he didn't check, he knew it was her waiting friend calling to find out why she was taking so long.
Inside the bathroom, Bilkisu felt tears of pure frustration and humiliation stream down her face. The sting of his parting words rubbed salt into her wounds—she fully understood his slick, indirect insult about "another man's woman" was a direct jab at her past marriage to Hamood.
She wept bitterly. To think that Fahad—a boy who is practically her junior—is treating her with such absolute dominance and disrespect. What kind of cruel destiny is this? Why on earth did this marriage have to be tied back together again?...
2. Summary
The narrative focuses on Fahad's complex, multi-layered romantic entanglements as he deals with a heartbroken Husnah while simultaneously launching a dominant psychological campaign against his newly remarrying ex-wife, Bilkisu.
- The Physical Escalation with Husnah: Husnah directly confronts Fahad over his impending forced remarriage to Bilkisu, expressing her heartbreak over being trapped in a seemingly one-sided love. In a desperate attempt to comfort her, Fahad embraces her, leading to an unexpected, passionate moment where they kiss—breaking Fahad's long-standing rule against premarital physical contact. Though Husnah leaves in tears, Fahad promises to prove her worth once they are married. Later, Fahad discovers that Salim had backed up all of Bilkisu's deleted photos onto his laptop, bringing him immense joy.
- Bilkisu's Sudden Remarriage: Bilkisu returns from her Islamic weekend school only for her father, Abba, to hand her a dowry and announce that her marriage has officially been re-solemnized behind her back, with the move-in date set for a month's time. Abba privately reveals to Ammah that it was Hamood's father who initiated the reconciliation, believing a restored marriage is better than a fresh suitor. Misunderstanding the situation entirely, Bilkisu assumes she has been married off to a wealthy, elderly village relative named Alhaji Ilya and falls into deep despair and illness.
- The Toxic Reunion and Domination: Five days later, Fahad visits the house and enters Bilkisu's room while she is asleep. He analyzes her physical appearance based on a Facebook relationship article detailing a woman's hidden passions. When she wakes up and attempts to leave for a hospital visit with a friend, Fahad locks the door and physically restrains her, demanding she recognize him as the head of the house. To humiliate and provoke her further, Fahad takes a call from Husnah on speakerphone, professing his undying love for Husnah right in front of an enraged Bilkisu. He places her under a strict house arrest, permitting her to leave the house exclusively for work, while taking slick, painful jabs at her past marriage, leaving Bilkisu weeping over her tragic fate.
