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Kamal, with a light laugh and scratching his head, said, “Well, it’s almost like that, Baba. But there is still plenty of time, since I know they won't marry her off now, and I’m in no rush either.”
“What! At your age?”
“Baba, it’s just that I’m tall, but I’m not actually that old. I am only twenty-five.”
“Well, that is the perfect age for marriage, my son. A person should enjoy marriage while they are young, rather than living a reckless lifestyle only to get married when they are old and spent. Look at our parents; they did us a great favor by marrying us off at nineteen.”
“Baba, nineteen?”
“Absolutely. And haven’t we enjoyed our marriage exactly as we should? Besides, if she were in the village right now, she would be fit to have her second child, or at least weaning her first while pregnant with the second. She is fifteen, going on sixteen, isn't that so?”
“That is true, Baba.”
“You see? So don't worry yourself at all. Just start making your intentions known, and we will back you up.”
“Alright, Baba. May Allah bring about what is best.”
“Excellent, that’s exactly what I want to hear you say,” Malam Buba said as he stood up. He continued, “Look, wait for me here while I go call her. I noticed she hasn't been to school for a couple of days, and they said she isn't feeling well. It’s been about five days since she got injured at their Islamiyya school...”
Filled with sympathy, Kamal replied, “That’s true, Baba. By Allah, it actually happened at the Islamiyya...”
He recounted the entire story to him clearly. Malam Buba, listening with deep analysis, let out a multi-layered smile. Today, he had undoubtedly found the easy path he had been seeking and hoping for. Kamal would surely be the perfect tool to achieve his ambitions regarding Nimrah. This piece of information pleased him immensely and captured his full attention. He immediately headed inside the house to call Nimrah.........✍️
Imran was just about to stand up and leave when Malam Buba offered his Islamic greeting. Mammah and Imran answered him before Mammah gave him permission to step inside. Malam Buba didn't look toward Imran even once; he simply felt a sense of paranoia whenever Imran stared at him. Bowing respectfully from the doorway, he greeted them and delivered the message that Nimrah had a visitor.
Exclaiming in unison out of pure surprise, Mammah and Imran said, “A visitor?” Their synchronized reaction startled Malam Buba. However, concealing his surprise, he clarified, “He says he is her Islamiyya teacher. He brought a cat for her and mentioned that she requested it herself.”
Mammah already knew about the cat, as Nimrah had been complaining over the past few days that her teacher hadn't brought it yet. In fact, just moments ago, Mammah could hear her from the kitchen saying that if she knew her teacher's phone number, she would have called him using Biebah's phone to remind him about her cat. Mammah called out Nimrah's name. Replying as she emerged from the kitchen with a cup of tea in her hand, Nimrah paused mid-stride upon seeing their new driver, whose name she hadn't even memorized yet. She averted her eyes and walked over to Mammah.
Mammah reached out and took the cup of tea from her hand, saying, “Put on a hijab and go see your teacher. He came to bring your cat.”
Nimrah's face lit up with a massive smile. Overjoyed, she said, “Alright, Mammah.” She grabbed a hijab from where they usually kept them and put it on. With Malam Buba leading the way and Nimrah following behind, she unexpectedly found herself staring at his back, her heart thumping nervously for no apparent reason. Inside, Imran bade Mammah goodbye and stepped out because a call from Faro was coming through on his phone. He suspected it might be Dada, and he didn't want to answer it in front of Mammah, as he didn't want to reveal Dada’s release to her just yet. Just as Nimrah reached the gate, she bowed slightly to greet Teacher Kamal, who was staring intently at her. With her head lowered, she was completely unaware of his gaze.
Imran fixed a piercing, analytical gaze on Kamal from where he stood, while Malam Buba stealthily monitored Imran, analyzing the way he was looking at Kamal. Nimrah waste no time; she extended her hands to receive the box containing the cat. Smiling as he looked at her, Kamal handed it over and stood up, moving slightly closer to her as he muttered some words in a low voice. Nimrah's face contorted as she instinctively drew back, the joy fading from her face—a clear sign that whatever he said to her did not sit well with her. It looked as if she was just waiting for him to let go of the box so she could escape. She quickly bade him goodbye and walked away all at once. In this manner, she walked back toward Imran, while Kamal's eyes followed her every move.
“Daddy, look at my cat!” Nimrah exclaimed happily the moment she reached him.
He smiled warmly, pulling his hands out of his pockets to take the box with deep care. He personally untied the string securing the box, reached inside, and pulled out a beautiful, small, snow-white cat.
“Masha Allah, my daughter's baby has arrived home safely. May Allah preserve it to bear many kittens for us so we can distribute them to everyone.”
“Amin, Daddy,” Nimrah replied joyfully. He placed the cat back into the box. “So, what is its name?”
“Uhmm, Daddy, we will name her when Ruky gets back.”
“Oh, I forgot! Princess Ussaina never makes a decision unless her Hassana is around. Let me head out; once it's named, let me know over the phone.”
Laughing, Nimrah said, “Daddy, may Allah protect your journey. Extend my greetings to Ammie and Aunty Ma'u. We will visit tomorrow, and from there, we'll go greet Grandpa since Grandma refused to return from the village. Then we'll proceed to greet Ummu and Grandpa as well, okay?”
“Excellent planning, Daughter. May Allah spare our lives to see it. But rest assured, Asma'u and the rest are already on their way here to greet Mammah as well.”
Another wave of immense joy washed over her. She rushed inside happily, announcing that she was going to mix some flour to prepare *ɗanwake* (bean dumplings) and *kalallaɓa*.
With a smile on his face, he watched her until she disappeared inside. Unable to suppress the thoughts brewing in his mind, he muttered aloud, “My Zaki, my daughter has grown into a woman faster than you think. That will be the very first thing to shock you the moment you step foot into this house.” He smiled again, shaking his head as he anticipated the dramatic complications ahead.
Nimrah still had no idea that a marriage had already been arranged for her. This was why they were incredibly protective of her everywhere she went, never allowing her out alone without a driver or Mu'azz. As Imran reached his car, the memory of the gaze that young man—the one they called her teacher—had given her flashed through his mind. He turned around and looked back at the gate. The new driver, whom he had already placed a question mark over, was no longer standing with the young man, indicating that the visitor had departed. *I absolutely must put a swift end to this interaction,* Imran thought, noticing a heavy, telling look in the young man's eyes regarding Nimrah. He opened his car door and got in. Once the gate was opened for him, he drove out, checking the dashboard clock. He intended to head straight to the mosque, and from there, visit the General so they could discuss the final arrival of Zak-Shadow now that the doctors had given the all-clear. They were only waiting for the results of one final test to come out today.
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After the Friday congregation prayers, Mammah's house erupted into a chaotic storm of noise. Ruky and her crew had returned home, joined by Uncle Nasiru's children and his wife, Hajiya Zuwairah, whom everyone affectionately called (Ummu). There was also Yaya Imam, Aunty Halimatu, Ruky's best friend Bintu, and the youngest boys, Sadiq and Adam. From Daddy Imran’s household, the eldest son Haysam, whom they called Khalifa, had arrived, followed by Asma'u (whom they called Aunty Ma'u), Ruƙayya, and the youngest, Marwan (called Lolo). Aunty Ummi's four children had also arrived; Firdausi, who came after Mu'azz, was the same age as Nimrah, while the other three were boys: Abdul-rasheed (called Dady), Harun, and the youngest, Saddam. Aunty Mimi's three children were there too—all boys, except for her newborn baby girl; their names were Fu'ad, Salman, and Ishaq. Finally, Aunty Momy's four children had also arrived—two boys and two girls. Since the boys were older, the girls happened to be younger than Nimrah; their names were Na'eem (named after her father-in-law), Sauban, Nusaiba, and Khairat.
Once the massive feast was cleared away, everyone gravitated toward their peers to chat. Halimatu and Asma'u hung out with Aunty Biebah, even though she was older than them; however, since they had blossomed into full young women, they preferred her company over the younger, hyperactive girls who lacked any sense of composure 😂. Imam, Mu'azz, and Khalifa hung out in Mu'azz's room doing what young male university freshmen do. The rest of the younger ones paired off according to age, leaving only the toddlers like Afrah clinging to Mammah and Ummu.
Meanwhile, the close-knit group of girls experiencing the dawn of adolescence had locked themselves in a bedroom, chatting away furiously. This squad consisted of Nimrah, Ruky, Bintu, and Feedo. Listening to their conversation, you would know they certainly didn't view themselves as children, but rather as grown ladies. Feedo was busy giving them the juicy details about a handsome cousin of theirs who had just returned from his studies in Saudi Arabia, describing how all the girls were flaunting themselves around him in a bid to catch his attention.
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It took a lot of convincing before the hotel worker's friend agreed to accompany him to Adeel's call. When he arrived, he found the client looking completely frantic. Even though he didn't know who Adeel truly was in reality, the aura and things surrounding him confirmed that he was a very powerful, dangerous man.
With absolute arrogance, Adeel laid down thick stacks of cash before him, explaining his desire to rent a space in the house where the man lived. He then asked for information regarding Nimrah’s family home. The guy’s eyes nearly popped out at the sight of the money—after all, cash talks. Trembling with excitement, he quickly assured Adeel that he was more than welcome to move in with him. Regarding Nimrah’s house, he confessed that he didn't know much about the family, but he occasionally exchanged brief pleasantries with a young man from the house whenever he went out for his morning jogs.
With a slight frown, Adeel said, “No problem, that connection is enough. We can head to your house right now, as I don't want to waste any time. What is your name?”
With a slight stammer, looking at his hotel worker friend, he replied, “Yohana!”
“Okay, that works. Let’s go.”
Despite his racing heart, Yohana agreed. He and his friend picked up Adeel's small traveling bag, which was a compact rolling suitcase, and headed out to the hotel courtyard. However, Adeel left a few minor belongings in the hotel room, keeping the electronic key card with him. They arrived in the neighborhood around 8:00 PM. The entire area was brightly lit, peaceful, and quiet, with only private security guards patrolling the streets. They drove right past Nimrah's house.
Adeel felt an overwhelming urge to stop right there, walk in, and see her. But it was impossible. The distance between Yohana's house and Nimrah's house was no more than four buildings apart. Furthermore, they were located on opposite sides of the street, meaning that from Yohana's upper floor, one could clearly see Nimrah’s front gate perfectly. The gate to Yohana's residence was opened, and they drove inside. It was a small private estate consisting of no more than ten apartments in total.........✍️
### [01-16, 11:37] +234 703 449 6321: 38
“Wow, has this house been renovated again, Aunty Nabeeha?”
Lifting her head from her phone, Nabeeha looked up to view the house for the first time. The house looked exceptionally beautiful, a fact that was obvious even from the outside. The flowers decorating the exterior perimeter wall were a sight to behold, filling the entire air with a rich fragrance, to say nothing of the sleek black gate. Nabeeha let out a soft sigh without saying a word. Ismat and Raihana continued expressing their admiration until Malam Buba peeked his head out, responding to the horn blared by Ismat, who was driving.
Malam Buba didn't recognize them. He stepped out fully and asked, “Who are you looking for?”
After looking him up and down with disdain, Amima, the epitome of disrespect, barked rudely, “It’s the mistress of the house and her siblings!”
“Please forgive me, Madam, but explain things in a way I can understand. I am new here, and I must inform the homeowners before I can let you in.”
At that point, Nabeeha hissed and glared at him arrogantly. “You idiot, open this gate and let us pass! Has this house suddenly become a presidential villa that requires a strict protocol just to enter?”
“It's not like that, Madam. I am simply doing my job.”
Furious, Amima threw her door open and stepped out, right as a taxi pulled up to the gate. Inside was the original security guard, Malam Almu, along with a guest. Malam Buba shifted his attention to him, smiling as he said, “Alhamdulillah, Malam Almu, welcome back!”
“Thank you, Malam Buba. Hope everything is peaceful? Why are you outside with these—”
He choked back the rest of his sentence upon spotting Amima. “Oh, Madam, it’s you! Welcome. Malam Buba, open the gate for them, they are members of the family.”
Malam Buba complied immediately, turning to open the gate. Amima hissed loudly and climbed back into the car, though she had stepped out with every intention of slapping the man across the face. Once their car drove inside, Malam Almu looked at his traveling companion, who asked, “Who are those people?”
Letting out a breath, Malam Almu replied, “That’s the wife of their eldest father, the one I told you is currently abroad, along with her younger siblings. She doesn't actually live here; she only shows up occasionally to cause trouble. It’s been over three years since I last saw her here until today.”
The companion simply nodded without saying a word, and they both walked inside. Malam Buba showered them with welcomes, brought them water, and sat down to exchange pleasantries, asking about the sick relative. Malam Almu replied, “She is much better. My brother who lives in Niger came and took her there for better medical treatment. That’s why my younger brother followed me back here so I wouldn't be left alone. His name is Sanda.”
“Wow, Masha Allah, may Allah grant her full recovery. Malam Sanda, you are very welcome,” Malam Buba said, extending his hand to shake Sanda's. Sanda shook his hand warmly. Just then, Rayhana marched over, shouting arrogantly, “Hey! Someone go over to the main house and fetch the keys to our wing!”
They all stared at her. Before Malam Buba could speak, Malam Almu cut in, saying, “Madam, that wing has been completely emptied since the renovation work on this house was finalized. I think it would be better if you go see the matriarch yourself, since she is inside. Or has she gone out, Malam Buba?” He directed the last question to Malam Buba, who replied, “No, she is inside, she hasn't gone anywhere. In fact, the house is packed with visitors today; it looks like all the grandchildren are around. Though I did see Ja'afar's wives head out earlier.”
“You hear that, Madam? It’s best if you just go inside yourself.”
Rayhana shot a vicious glare at all of them. Without a word, she turned back to where Nabeeha and Ismat were standing by the door of their wing, waiting for her. Upon hearing the news, Nabeeha hissed in annoyance. Thoroughly frustrated, she snapped, “I hate these dramatic displays! Where on earth did they move our belongings to?”
“Let’s just go see Mammah, that would be better,” Ismat suggested, watching their reactions…
★ The entire living room was filled with the chaotic noise of Aheel and the other kids playing tag, turning the parlor upside down with their toys. However, this didn't stop Mammah and Ummu (Hajiya Zuwairah, Uncle Nasiru's wife) from enjoying their conversation. They sat with their backs to the entrance, which was why they didn't notice when Nabeeha and her siblings stepped into the living room.
It was unclear whether the newcomers had even offered an Islamic greeting. They simply stood there, staring at the children with pinched faces of absolute disgust. The children, completely unfazed by their presence, continued playing, though a few had noticed them while others remained oblivious. Abees, who was chasing Ishaq with a water gun, ran right up to where the visitors stood. Ishaq ducked between the women to hide from Abees, laughing, while Abees kept pumping the toy gun, accidentally splashing water directly onto the women’s clothes. In a fit of pure rage, Rayhana swung her hand and delivered a stinging slap across Abees' face. The boy let out a blood-curdling scream that caused Mammah and Ummu to spin around in shock. Simultaneously, Nabeeha grabbed Ishaq from behind her and shoved him violently onto Abees. This double act of slapping and shoving coincided perfectly with Nimrah stepping out from the corridor, carrying her cat's box to mix some milk for it. She slammed the box onto the staircase landing and charged into the room, her blood boiling with fury.
Mammah and Ummu both bolted to their feet, staring in shock. The rest of the children instantly went dead silent, as if doused by a bucket of cold water. Only Khairat, who was slightly older, rushed over to comfort Abees. Khairat's arrival coincided with Nimrah's approach, whom no one in the room had really noticed until that exact second. Before Mammah could even open her mouth to speak, a loud, echoing slap resounded across the room, landing squarely on Rayhana's face—and it was delivered by none other than Nimrah. Before Rayhana could even register what had happened, Nimrah turned her massive, fierce eyes toward Amima and the others who were advancing on her angrily.
She showed absolutely no fear or hesitation, despite the fact that they were physically larger and taller than her. Nimrah was tall herself, but these women were significantly older and taller. Yet, out of sheer, unadulterated audacity, she didn't care. In a sharp, warning voice, she challenged, “Oh, so you think you're going to retaliate for her?”
In a fit of burning rage, Amima barked, “We aren't just going to retaliate for the slap, we are going to beat you black and blue!”
“Well, let me give you your own share first so you both have something to avenge!” In a flash, Nimrah delivered another resounding slap across Amima’s face. As Rayhana lunged forward to grab her, Nimrah cleverly stuck out her foot and tripped her, sending Rayhana crashing heavily to the floor. At this sight, the children erupted into loud cheers and laughter, jumping up and down while chanting, “Aunty Ninah! Aunty Ninah!”
By now, Mammah had rushed over to where they stood. Nabeeha lunged at Nimrah to grab her by the collar, but Nimrah caught her hand firmly, staring back at her with a defiant, disrespectful glare. Meanwhile, Amima managed to grab the back of Nimrah's shirt. Ismat, completely distressed by the brewing chaos—especially since her main goal was to maintain peace and gain favor with the family—stepped in to pull Amima back, pleading, “What is the meaning of this, for God's sake?”
“Nimrah! Let her go!” Mammah commanded as she reach
