FreeFreeDescription
He arrived at the quarters of His Royal Highness. After the gatekeepers finished paying their respects, they ushered him in, and the King granted him permission to enter.
It was an immense living room. I wouldn't even know how to adequately describe its beauty and sheer size. Sofas were arranged in various clusters, the chilling air of the air conditioning fully permeated every corner, and a distinct, luxurious fragrance filled the air.
From a far corner, I spotted His Royal Highness reclining on a soft carpet adorned with a multitude of throw pillows. In front of him sat a tray holding a glass jug filled with zobo, a small porcelain bowl whose contents I could not discern, and a small tea kettle on a separate tray accompanied by a single mug.
His face was completely hardened, showing clear signs of intense anger, and he held a newspaper in his hand.
With profound respect, Galadima sat at the edge of the carpet, crossing his legs and bowing as he said, “Good afternoon, Your Highness. May your days be long.”
The King did not answer. Instead, he forcefully threw the newspaper in his hand toward him. Galadima simply stared at the newspaper without picking it up.
“Pick it up and look at it, because I want to know the absolute truth of this matter.”
Keeping his head bowed, Galadima replied, “Your Highness, Muftahu just brought it to my attention as well. I was actually on my way out to go to the newspaper house when your summons reached me. But by Allah, Abba, it is not true. You—”
The King quickly raised his hand, cutting him off in deep anger. “What on earth are you trying to tell me? Are you implying they would publish something you didn't do? They know exactly which royal house you come from; they wouldn't slander you out of nowhere, if only to avoid the severe consequences that would follow. Sameer, did you really go out and execute this selfish whim just to ruin the reputation of this emirate? You have truly proven what kind of person you are, and you did exactly what you wanted. You have certainly made a historical precedent that no one else has ever dared to set in this palace. So, it turns out you opened that plaza solely to satisfy your personal whims? If Yaya were in good health right now, what kind of condition do you think he would find himself in upon hearing this? I always saw you as a quiet, reserved person, but underneath it all, you are a devil.”
Galadima tightly shut his eyes, his heart burning fiercely at the harsh words of the King—who was his late father’s younger brother. However, he was completely unable to utter a word in his own defense, and his eyes grew increasingly bloodshot with suppressed emotion.
Until the King finished his furious tirade, Galadima remained completely silent, his head bowed, without making a single movement.
“Get up and leave my presence. There is a meeting at 8:30 PM; you will wait there to receive your judgment from Mama Fulani.”
Bowing his head, Galadima said, “May Allah calm your anger. I leave you in peace.”
The King completely ignored him, and Galadima stood up and walked out, his heart burning with profound anguish.
The moment he stepped outside, his phone began ringing. With his mind in utter disarray, he pulled it out with the intention of switching it off entirely, but then he saw the caller ID: ***My dear Momma***. He closed his eyes tightly as his soul burned with even greater distress. He knew with absolute certainty that the news had already reached her. What kind of calamity was this? His mother, who was away in another country, had already been called and informed without anyone considering her current fragile situation. Unable to bring himself to answer the call, he let the phone ring until it disconnected.
He vowed to himself that absolutely anyone involved with that newspaper company would deeply regret ever being born.
Momma’s call came in again, but he still didn't answer it until he finally reached his own private quarters. It was only after he sat down that he began making an effort to return her call, his heart and soul still heavy with anguish.
> **Author's Note to Readers:**
> *So, dear readers, who do you think is behind this wicked plot? Truly, today I feel immense pity for Munaya, Munubiya, and even Galadima himself. 🤦🏻♀ Let's read on to see how things unfold. 🙆🏻 This is where the real drama begins! 👌🏻⛹🏻♀⛹🏻♀⛹🏻♀🤾🏻♀ Oh Allah, forgive our parents. 😭👏🏻*
>
### Section 2: Anguish and Accusations at Home
Maman Fauziyya noticed our prolonged absence and sent Kamal to check on us, as she assumed Mama Rabi'a had taken us to her house. Kamal ran back and frantically informed her that we were extremely unwell in our room.
Without waiting to hear the end of his explanation, she rushed over. Upon seeing the state we were in, her anxiety reached its absolute peak. She immediately called Baba K'arami on the phone to inform him. Despite the lingering anger he felt toward us, the news threw him into deep distress as well. He arrived together with Dady, and shortly after, our own Abba arrived as well.
The sight of us instantly softened their anger. They realized they should have listened to our side of the story the previous day. Nevertheless, no parents could witness their children in such a state without being deeply shaken—especially since the situation involved the son of prominent, highly influential figures. His side of the scandal would be easily managed, but we were the ones bound to suffer terribly.
A doctor was summoned to examine us. He stated that severe emotional distress and anxiety had triggered our intense fever, compounded by starvation. With great difficulty, Maman Fauziyya assisted us in taking a warm bath, after which we performed the dawn (*Asubahi*) prayer. We barely managed to swallow some tea before taking our medication, and we immediately lay back down, quickly falling into a deep sleep.
Dady looked at his brothers and said anxiously, “Yaya Auwal, shouldn't we make some effort to investigate this matter properly? Personally, I strongly feel these girls would never commit such an act. We have lived with them for years and have never heard of anything remotely like this regarding their behavior. I feel it is wrong for us to pass judgment in anger on something we have no certainty about.”
"Hameesu, do not defend them in this matter," Baba K'arami countered. “There is absolutely no way a newspaper would publish such a scandalous story if it never happened. Look at the boy involved—he is the King's son; he is the Galadima. If only out of fear of the heavy legal and royal backlash, I know that newspaper house would be terrified to publish such a report without a basis.”
"That is true, Yaya," Jafaru interjected, “but don't you think his political enemies could easily exploit this opportunity to tarnish his reputation? And perhaps our daughters were simply caught in an unfortunate crossfire or accident.”
"Your words make sense, Jafaru," Dady replied. “By Allah, I am thinking along the same lines. However, we must wait to hear from the Palace. If this was truly done to tarnish the boy's reputation, I know the royal family will not let it slide, and they will definitely come looking for us.”
Abba let out a heavy sigh and said, “For me, whatever the ultimate truth may be, Munaya simply needs to be married off immediately. Personally, I have never encountered an incident as utterly confusing as this in my entire life. The mother of these girls did not sleep a single wink last night; she spent the entire night weeping. You all witnessed the horrific verbal abuse and public humiliation Innaro inflicted on her in the courtyard in front of everyone yesterday. What is A'isha's crime in all of this? Would she honestly instruct Munubiya and Munaya to go out and commit such a shameful act?”
"Please have patience, Yaya," they comforted him. “When it comes to Innaro's behavior, one can only endure. You already know exactly how she is.”
Thus, they continued to deliberate on how best to approach the volatile situation.
### Section 3: The Truth Behind the Images
With a heavy heart, Galadima placed a call to Momma. It rang twice before she picked up. He greeted her with profound respect, and she responded with her usual deep warmth and affection. This immediately brought a slight sense of comfort to his aching heart.
He took a deep breath, asking, “Momma, how is Abie's health?”
“Alhamdulillah, Moh'md. But what is this horrific news that Ummu Erfaan just called to inform me about? And right after, Mama Fulani called me as well, shouting and furious. Now, Sauban has just shown me some pictures that were allegedly forwarded to him.”
Closing his eyes in deep emotional pain, his voice choked up as he said, “Momma, by Allah, I woke up and saw it out of nowhere as well.”
“I don't understand what you mean by seeing it out of nowhere, Moh'md. Please, tell me the absolute truth. This is an incredibly grave matter.”
He bit his lip so hard it almost pierced the skin. In a voice vibrating with extreme fury, he said, “Momma, I swear by Allah I know nothing about this. On the day of Eid, it is true that I had an accidental collision with a certain girl, which caused my phone to fall and shatter. Then yesterday, the same girl almost fell over the railing at the plaza. I instinctively moved to catch and save her, and thanks to Allah, she didn't fall. I didn't even touch her! That is the absolute extent of it. But today, the newspaper house manipulated and framed the pictures to look like something entirely different.”
Momma let out a sigh of relief. She thoroughly knew her son’s impeccable character, though one can never completely vouch for a child once they are out of your sight. “Muh'md, this is undoubtedly a targeted setup. But it's the exact same girl in both instances?”
“Yes, Momma, that's what I saw as well.”
“What has the King said?”
“Momma, by Allah, his words were incredibly painful to hear. They have already scheduled a royal meeting specifically because of me.”
“Humm, Muh'md, this is a massive conspiracy. This was explicitly engineered to destroy your reputation and ours. There is a specific motive behind this. This girl is either fully aware of the plot, or she was deliberately used as an unwitting pawn to fulfill their objective.”
“But Momma, who could be behind this?”
“Those who desperately want to see our downfall, of course. They chose this specific path to trap you and diminish your rising influence.”
In a sudden outburst of rage, Galadima struck the small glass table in front of him with his fist, shattering it instantly into pieces. Completely ignoring the injury to his hand, he roared, “They will see their own destruction long before they ever witness mine! My father's life will never be undermined in vain! I swear by Allah, Momma, I will utterly humiliate every single person involved in this plot, no matter who they are! My very breath stands as vengeance for my father!”
Momma was forced to pull the phone away from her ear due to the deafening volume of his furious shout.
He threw the phone onto the sofa without even disconnecting the call. Storming out of his quarters in an absolute rage, he barked a thunderous command at his royal guards. Terrified by his demeanor, they scrambled frantically toward the parked vehicles. Without even waiting for a guard to open the door for him, Galadima threw it open and sat inside.
The guards were in a state of sheer panic upon seeing the condition of their leader. They knew the fierce wrath of a quiet man had been unleashed today, as Galadima was universally known within the emirate for his absolute hatred of chaos and noise.
Once they cleared the palace gates, the head driver hesitantly asked, “Your Highness, where are we heading?”
For a long moment, it seemed as if he wouldn't reply. Then, in a sharp, clipped tone, he snapped, “The plaza!”
“Right away, Your Highness. May Allah calm your anger, my leader.”
He completely ignored the driver, his chest heaving as he paced his feet restlessly, biting his lip, his eyes completely bloodshot with rage.
### Section 4: Investigating the Plaza Security
The moment he entered the plaza, every employee instantly recognized the sheer fury radiating from him. He did not even glance at those bowing to greet him. Shoppers stared in astonishment; many had actually come to the plaza out of pure gossip, wanting to see the location of the scandal that had completely taken over the town and social media.
He marched straight into the security control office. The staff member inside instantly sprang to his feet to pay his respects, but the terrifying expression on his boss's face left him thoroughly shaken.
Without acknowledging the greeting, Galadima demanded, “I want to see the CCTV footage from yesterday morning up until this very moment.”
His body trembling with fear, the young man stammered, “Right away, Your Highness.”
He quickly pulled out a chair for Galadima to sit, then adjusted the computer monitors. He began rewinding the footage systematically. Once he reached Sunday morning at 6:00 AM, he played it. The footage showed the opening of the plaza, the cleaners going about their chores, and the eventual influx of shoppers. As the footage continued to roll, Galadima commanded, “Rewind it a little bit.”
The employee slowed down the playback, rewinding until the screen showed two young men—one dressed in a traditional jallabiya and the other wearing jeans and a white t-shirt.
“Zoom in on those two standing over there, looking around suspiciously.”
The technician zoomed in on them and played the footage in slow motion. The young men were looking around scanning the area. Eventually, one of them placed a phone to his ear, speaking while staring directly at the CCTV camera that captured the central courtyard of the plaza where the cars were parked. He then shifted his gaze across the rows of parked vehicles. From his facial movements, it was glaringly obvious that he was coordinating with someone, while his companion nodded continuously in agreement.
Galadima sat in absolute silence, his eyes locked onto the monitors, analyzing the individuals until the clip passed. He didn't say a word, continuing to watch the movement of people until the timestamp hit 8:11 PM—at which point the screen abruptly went completely black.
Galadima instantly glared at the employee. “What happened here?”
“Your Highness, by Allah, I don't know, but let me check right now.”
The young man began frantically tapping on the keyboard and checking the system logs, but everything on his end appeared completely normal. He looked up at Galadima fearfully and said, “Your Highness, there is no system error from this terminal. It means the issue came directly from the physical cameras themselves.”
Galadima roared at the top of his lungs, “What do you mean the issue came from the cameras?! Are you telling me my entire arrival yesterday was never recorded?! And you sat in this office the whole time without filing a complaint since yesterday? What did you do?! What did they bribe you with to humiliate me?! I asked you how much they paid you, Saleem?!”
Virtually everyone inside the massive plaza heard Galadima’s thunderous accusation.
The young employee’s body began to shake violently, and he collapsed to the floor at Galadima's feet out of pure terror. In all his time working under him, he had never seen the prince exhibit such terrifying rage. Though rumors of the scandal had reached their ears through newspapers and social media, he never anticipated the situation would escalate to this level of fury.
“By Allah, Your Highness, no one has enough money to buy my loyalty to harm you! You saved my life from destitution; you supported my family when we were on the brink of ruin. You became the guardian of my mother, my siblings, and myself. Why would I ever succumb to the deception of others to ruin your name...?”
"That is enough!" Galadima cut him off with a shout.
Galadima completely shut down the plaza. He ordered the security team and his royal guards to forcefully evict every single shopper inside. He then rounded up the entire staff into one area, warning them with absolute certainty that if the hypocrites and traitors among them who conspired with his enemies did not confess immediately, every single one of them would deeply regret ever knowing him.
The employees completely panicked, crying out, swearing oaths of innocence, and trying frantically to defend themselves. He refused to listen to a single word. Realizing they were only complicating his investigation, he placed the entire workforce on immediate suspension and ordered the plaza closed down indefinitely.
As his convoy prepared to exit the premises, Muftahu’s car pulled into the driveway. Muftahu parked hastily, stepping out alongside Harun (another extremely close friend of Galadima, who was the son of the Vizier and knew Galadima’s deepest secrets better than anyone else).
Before they could even walk up to the vehicle, Galadima lowered the tinted glass window himself. A single glance at his face terrified both of them; they had never seen him in such a state of blinding rage. He didn't say a word, merely gesturing sharply for them to get into the car.
Without hesitation, they opened the doors and climbed in—Muftahu sitting in the front passenger seat and Harun sitting in the back next to Galadima.
After murmuring their respect and greetings, neither of them dared to say another word. Galadima didn't even verbally respond to their greetings, merely raising a hand to silence them.
Once they hit the main road, the head driver asked with extreme caution, “Your Highness, where are we heading?”
In a tight, suffocating voice, he replied, “The newspaper house.”
The driver didn't fully catch the specific address but was too terrified to ask for clarification, so he whispered to Muftahu instead. Muftahu simply gave a somber smile, shook his head, and began guiding the driver with step-by-step directions until the convoy finally arrived at their destination.
### Section 5: Domestice Turmoil and False Rumors
While we were deep in a medically induced sleep from the injections the doctor had given us, Innaro burst into the room. Completely devoid of any mercy, she began waking us up by violently beating us across our backs and thighs.
Both Munubiya and I sprang up into a sitting position in absolute terror.
"Get up, you hypocrites! So this shameful affair didn't just stop at hugging and holding hands? You went as far as bringing pregnancies into this house?! You cursed, wretched bastards! I swear by Allah, both you and your worthless mother are leaving this house today. If your father refuses to divorce your mother today and kick you all out, I will formally strip him of my maternal blessings. He will have to choose between you or me today. She then burst into dramatic tears, wrapping her wrapper tightly around herself as she wiped her face. "Oh, how Malam wronged me by forcing this marriage with a girl from a family of no lineage or origin! Look how she has given birth to nothing but calamity and scandal for us, while he passed away and left me to bear this shame alone. Malam, you deeply wronged me by leaving me with this chaotic aftermath. I swear by Allah, A'isha must leave this house today along with her wretched pack of children! I utterly detest you all, and I detest anyone who dares to love A'isha! I hate you all, by Allah!" She burst into another loud fit of weeping.
By this time, all the women of the household had rushed out of their quarters. Some entered our living room while others crowded around our bedroom door, joined by a few wedding guests who had maliciously refused to go home just to stay and witness
