Description
English Translation
"I don't understand, Nafi. What do you mean by asking her to give up on him, or do you not understand the situation that girl is in? The girl needs her husband close by. If we don't want her to run into destruction, let me hear it. I already saw your hidden agenda from the beginning—you want to favor an outsider over your own blood sister, Nafi! And as for you talking about stepping on Asma'u’s rights, since Amira isn't her biological mother, her own rights aren't being violated either, are they?" Adda Fatu said, burning with anger toward Dada.
Dada adjusted her sitting position and replied, "I didn't mean it like that, but I figured since they were together over there from the start... now, what if we suggest they take turns—this one goes to stay for a couple of weeks, then the other goes? You see, that's impossible because Asma'u has a job in town, and we can't possibly ask her to quit. If it were Amira in her shoes, we wouldn't let anyone do that to her either, would we? In my view, Adda, it's better to just be patient so we can live in peace. Since everything else has settled down between them, I don't want any new drama to erupt. You know the condition Malam gave me; wallahi, I don't want him finding fault with me again concerning Bashir's household."
At that, Adda Fatu stood up immediately and started ranting, hurling insults left and right. Aside from the deep frustration of not getting what she wanted from Bashir, it now looked like Nafi was going to cause problems for her this time around. But no, that wasn't going to fly—wallahi, Nafi had better figure out what to do.
Still shouting curses, Adda marched toward the door. "So, Nafi, you think you’ve now reached the level where you can challenge me? You forgot all the kindness and support I showed you in life just because Baffa and Inna are long dead and buried under the earth. You can easily throw their memory away just because you think you've grown powerful now. Thank you, I am leaving. But from today onwards, put it in your mind that you no longer have a single sister left in this world, since you chose your son's wife over me and my daughter! That's it, Nafi, I wash my hands of you and the world!" She finished with a burst of hypocritical crying—the exact tactic she always used to conquer Nafi.
And true to form, she got what she wanted. Dada’s anxiety skyrocketed immediately, and she rushed to prove that that wasn't what she meant at all.
"If you are truly serious and want me to relent, then just do whatever it takes for Bashir to take Amira back to live close to him. It's impossible for him to say he's moving both of them over there; you have to make him bring one back and take the other. If you do that, that's the only way I'll calm down. If not, wallahi, put it in your mind that you have no sister named Fatu alive!"
Because Dada desperately wanted peace between them, she gave in. She had to gather the 30,000 Naira cash she had on hand and hand it over, telling her to take it to Amira for safe-keeping until Bashir arrived so they could figure out what to do. She walked her all the way to the gate, with Adda repeatedly reminding her that she was waiting for results, and with that, they parted ways.
A heavy sigh escaped Dada as she returned to the parlor and sat down, completely overwhelmed by where to even begin with this mess. Before God, she never wanted to make another mistake like the past ones, but what could she do about Adda Fatu—her only surviving sister in the entire world, unmatched by anyone? Adda had done everything for her in life; it was only right that she repay that kindness. She had thought Bashir marrying Amira was enough reward for her loyalty, but now she was regretting ever facilitating it, feeling as though she had opened a door that allowed Adda to treat her like a puppet.
Every single day was filled with anxiety since that marriage took place—a marriage she saw no benefit in, other than causing grief.
The entry of Nazir, her last-born son, made her look up. "I just ran into your troublesome sister on the road; she literally extorted 10k from me, wallahi! Honestly, Dada, you need to talk to Adda. Her behavior is completely out of line. Right now she has cash in her hand, yet she stood there fighting with a Napep (tricycle) driver because he asked for 200 Naira to take her home."
"Hmm, May Allah just cover our shame, Naziru, but honestly, Adda's behavior is starting to scare me. In fact, look at what brought her here today..." Word for word, she recounted their entire interaction.
"Wallahi, Dada, you need to be very careful with that woman. I honestly think she might be putting some kind of spell on you to make you act this way, because for her to control you like this, you aren't her slave. This is exactly what we feared from the very beginning of arranging this marriage, but you closed your eyes and insisted on strengthening your family ties. Look at you now, regretting it before things have even really started. And as for Yaya, I still don't see what destiny he saw in that shameless girl that made him agree to marry her."
"So Naziru, what do you want me to do? Adda is my sister, the only one I have like her, you know that. Her brother's happiness is her happiness. If I don't do things for her in this life, who will I do them for?"
"Well, look at where it's gotten you. Before you make another decision, remember that your own marriage is now wobbling just to please her, and we certainly don't want our mother ending up a widow at this age," he said, standing up to leave because he genuinely harbored deep anger toward Adda—and toward Dada, whom he felt was enabling her.
"May Allah forbid, Naziru. I will manage her nicely, insha Allah nothing will go wrong," Dada said, standing up to look for something to eat. She hadn't even had breakfast before Adda came bright and early to stir up trouble.
ADDA FATU
After leaving Dada's house, Adda walked further down because she had no intention of going home just yet. Amira had already informed her that Indo, the credit vendor, had come to the house demanding her money, standing right in the courtyard hurling insults and refusing to leave until Adda came out and paid up. It was better for Adda to keep moving; with luck, she might manage to secure some money or find a way to make Bashir send funds.
She headed straight to her close friend Hajia Balaraba's house. She found Balaraba right outside her gate, having just called a Napep rider to take her out.
"Fatu, where are you coming from this early in the morning?" Balaraba asked, trying to lock her gate. "I should be asking you that, Balaraba—you, who I know wouldn't wake up even if it's 12 noon."
"Hmm, where would I find sleep with a co-wife trying to frustrate me? Look, you're just in time because I was heading out to seek help for myself," Balaraba said, dropping her keys into her bag.
"Let's just go together then, because my problem is what brought me here to discuss on the way." They boarded the Napep, and Balaraba instructed the driver on their destination. As they rode along, Adda Fatu poured out her woes to Hajia Balaraba.
"I just don't know what kind of cursed boy Bashir is, wallahi! I've been to mallams, I've been to traditional dancers (Yan Bori), but nobody can conquer him. Honestly, I feel like Amira's subtle charm tricks work better on him than actual black magic. Wallahi, I used to get whatever I wanted from him through Nafi, but now I see signs that Nafi is trying to rebel against me too. And as for that wicked woman with the goods whom you linked me to, her debt is driving me crazy—I couldn't even pay her."
"Tab! Didn't I tell you from the start? That Indo, once you take credit from her, wallahi, she completely blocks your financial channels! But you said it was fine, that's why you took money. We do business with her, and she doesn't care about familiarity; for just one thousand naira, she will tear your dignity to shreds."
"I have seen it with my own eyes! Right now she is over at the house causing chaos. I told Ummi and the others to lock the door and not let her in, lest she make off with something. She's owed 200,000 Naira, and as soon as we get a hold of Bashir, I'll gather the money, pay her off, and be done with her."
"Well, as for that boy, you really have to push hard. But let's go to this place first; Maman Lurwanu recommended it to me. She said his work is instant because he's the one who worked on Isah, causing him to divorce both of his co-wives on the very same day! Look at how she's living large in that house all by herself now," Balaraba said.
"You don't say! Thank goodness I came here today. May Allah make this the end of my suffering (or rather, the beginning of your suffering), so I can secure Amira properly and then turn my attention back to my own little ones—though whether I live with them or not is all the same, as you know."
Thus they continued chatting until they reached the neighborhood they had been directed to, but they couldn't figure out the exact house. Everyone they asked claimed not to know the man they were looking for, and when they tried calling Maman Lurwanu's phone number, it was switched off.
Looking like she was about to burst into tears, Adda looked at Balaraba and said, "Now Balaraba, what are we going to do? Wallahi, I had put all my hope in this cure."
Before Balaraba could reply, the Napep rider—who hadn't said a single word since picking them up—quietly finished listening to their entire conversation via a voice note he had recorded. He figured out their problem, killed the ignition, and told them he needed to step aside to urinate while they figured out their next move.
Far away from them, he pulled out his phone and called his friend, thinking to himself, A vulture never flies for nothing; looks like she's hooked one.
He laughed before saying, "Hurry up and get the area ready. Check WhatsApp, I just sent you a message. I'll be there in twenty minutes if she takes the bait."
The other man burst out laughing and said, "Done, Kwaro. It's like you read my mind; I was just calculating where we'd get money to buy Latifa's Anko fabric because she's been pressing me hard these past few days and business has been dry. May Allah make her a goldmine! Hurry up and get here." They ended the call.
He walked back to them, even stopping by a shop to buy a sachet of pure water. He popped it, poured out half to wash his hands, and strolled over.
"So, Hajia, where are we heading now?" he asked them after starting the machine. "Back to where you picked us up from, since nothing is working," Balaraba said, completely fed up.
He kicked off the bike and hit the road, listening to them sigh and grumble. He pulled over at a filling station to buy fuel, wasting a bit of time to finalize his script. When he was ready, he cleared his throat.
"Um, Hajia, please forgive me. Even though I don't fully understand your trouble, if you really want results, there is a place I dropped some passengers last week. I waited for them to finish, and from the way they came out, I could tell they got the exact breakthrough they came for. In fact, one of them came all the way from Kano and received her package... wait, they collected her phone number earlier today, and she asked me to come pick it up and send it via motor park transport," he lied smoothly, opening the small storage compartment under the seat to pull out a plain black nylon bag. They couldn't see what was inside, but there was a slip of paper with a phone number written on it—supposedly the contact to send the package to.
To a brain completely blocked by desperation, caution goes out the window. Without a second thought, they told him to take them there. Smiling inwardly (Excellent), he revved the motorcycle and took off, knowing by now everything was set up. Still, he sent a quick text just to confirm they were arriving.
A few-minute ride brought them right to the street, leading up to a house with a front shop and an entrance corridor (soro) leading inside. He spotted two young men sitting on a concrete bench outside and greeted them, asking if "Malam" was around.
"He just stepped out, but I know he won't be long, maybe he's already on his way... oh, look, there he is, we were just talking about him," one of them replied.
The rider walked over to Wizy, his friend who was dressed in an oversized flowing Hausa gown (babban riga) complete with a ridiculous turban to look the part of a powerful spiritualist. They slapped hands in greeting—a handshake so aggressive it looked like they were about to wrestle. Raising his voice so Adda and Balaraba could hear, Wizy called out, "Malam, is it true you're the one who collected Hajia Larai's package earlier? Hope all is well, or did you forget something?"
"Ah, wallahi Malam, it's me. I didn't forget anything; I just brought some spiritual clients of mine."
"Oh, oh, bismillah, come on in! Leave them out here... and Iliya, why didn't you open the shop for them to sit inside, or take them into the inner room until I arrive?" he scolded the young men sitting outside.
Iliya had to bite his tongue hard to keep from laughing before replying, "Malam, she went over to the neighbor's house, and you took the shop keys with you!" "Ah, is that so?" Wizy said, opening the door for the women to file inside. Once they were seated, the Napep driver said he would wait outside until they finished so he could also get his "market assistance" tip.
Malam dragged out a wooden tray covered in sand alongside a giant prayer rosary (carbi), began pulling the beads while muttering under his breath, and scribbled incomprehensible symbols. Then he looked up at them. "So, Hajia, who are we starting with?" he asked.
Hajia Balaraba immediately leaned forward. "Malam, let's start with my problem first, because..." He cut her off sharply. "Let us check what we don't understand first, then you can explain your situation and the exact step you want taken."
With practiced ease, he began churning out a string of predictions like a movie psychic—even guessing things they hadn't told him, prompting Balaraba to gasp, "Ah, Malam, exactly! Wallahi, that's it!" He laughed inwardly; after all, the stories were all the same. Anyone coming here had issues with a co-wife, so the templates hardly varied.
After spinning a web of elaborate lies, Adda and her companion were completely hooked, convinced they had arrived at the ultimate solution where they could twist Bashir around their fingers like local pancake batter (tada a waina).
Hajia Balaraba laid out exactly what she wanted, and Malam immediately slammed her with a non-negotiable fee of 50,000 Naira. She happily paid it, feeling relieved compared to the mountains of dead-end money she had wasted elsewhere. He pulled out his writing board, smeared black ink, scribbled something utterly meaningless, handed it to her along with a bowl of water, and instructed her: Wash your eyes with it when you get home, hold half of it in your mouth and spray it at the entrance of your co-wife's room or anywhere you know she will walk, and mix the other half into the family pot of soup so everyone eats it. From that moment on, nobody will listen to anyone except you.
He then produced some mysterious red and green packets of "medicine," telling her to steep them in water for seven days and drink them, plus two big jerricans of liquid she had to pour into a bucket to share with the whole household—even her husband had to drink it, maybe mixed into his tea. As for the rest of the work, she shouldn't worry; he would handle it, as long as they remembered him handsomely once the job materialized. (Just look at this scammer 😂—giving green medicine for guinea worm and red medicine for piles to whoever walks in! At least he helped cure someone's piles, right? 😂😂😂😂😂😂)
Then it was Adda's turn. She stepped forward, and her fee was assessed. Malam looked at her closely. "What kind of woman is this? She is fair, beautiful, but looks sickly like she's lying on a hospital bed."
Without missing a beat, Adda blurted out, "That's Asma'u! She's my daughter's co-wife!" Malam adjusted his posture, calculating how to milk these women dry. "Ah, it looks like she's backed from the South, this one. Wait..." He paused dramatically before continuing. "Tab, di Hajia, you have a massive job on your hands. Whoever this woman is, she has completely captured this man's mind. In fact, it's the rock-dwelling pagans (Arnan kan dutse) who are working for her; she is backed by a legion of spirits guarding her. Honestly, this job is way above my power."
Adda looked like she was about to burst into tears. "Haba Malam, is there really nothing too big for your power? (Haba Adda, only Allah has the cure for everything!) Please look into it and help me. Even though she's not my biological daughter, I am the one standing up to seek help for her because she's my sister's child."
Malam adjusted his seat. "The problem is it's very difficult. You know working with pagan spirits is hard work. But if you are willing to spend money to slaughter sacrifices for them—you know they crave blood—then maybe, just maybe, we might succeed."
"Malam, as long as we get results, it's not a problem! Right now, what kind of sacrifice are we talking about?" "Well, Hajia, at the very least we need to slaughter 20 rams for them."
Adda clutched her chest. "Malam, where on earth will I get that kind of money right now? I was just explaining to you that I'm struggling to even pay off debts! Can we start by just shutting that woman's mouth first so she forgets about her money?"
"That's not a problem at all, and you can pay in installments if you want. You can even do the slaughtering yourself if you prefer, but there are specific types of animals required and specific incantations to recite during slaughter. If you have someone to do it for you, I'll teach you." "No, Malam, everything can be done right here," Hajia Balaraba chipped in. "That's fine then." "So, roughly how much is that, Malam?" she asked.
"Well, there's a village where I source livestock; a well-fleshed-out ram goes for at least 40,000 Naira. So you're looking at roughly 400,000 Naira total, but you can spread it out slowly over two months to complete the work."
Right there, Adda unzipped her bag and handed over 80,000 Naira—the exact money she had gathered to pay off a portion of her urgent debt—promising to bring the balance after a few days. In exchange, he gave her a bitter kola-like object, telling her to have the target chew it while talking to her so she could control her like a remote control. As for Bashir, he would intensify work on him.
As for Amira, hearing she was pregnant, he pulled out a special powder packet of sweetness and cooling agents meant to be delivered to her sister who was pregnant, instructing her to take it so that when Bashir came to lie with her, half the work would already be done.
Acting as though they had just received a priceless gift, they showered him with profuse thanks. He handed them his phone number, and they stepped outside.
The Napep rider had dozed off from exhaustion, and their exit finally woke him up. "Hajia, you really took your time today. Now you just have to give me my balance so I can return this machine and rest, because I am completely exhausted."
He started the engine, and just as they were about to pull away, Iliya called out to them, saying Malam had forgotten the "market assistance" tip. They had to disembark again while the rider waited outside.
Inside, Wizy and Malam didn't waste time splitting their loot. Operating on a 40% / 60% split of whatever they scammed, Wizy took 50% while tossing 10% to Iliya and the boys who provided cover. He cashed out Adda's money and handed him a large piece of paper tightly wrapped like a traditional amulet (laya), telling him to call him whenever he wanted to hit the streets again.
Beaming with joy, the rider strapped the amulet to the front of his tricycle—jokingly calling it a customer-magnet charm. By the sheer irony of life, everywhere they passed, passengers flagged him down for drop-offs. After dropping off Hajia Balaraba, he proceeded straight to Adda Fatu's destination, because she insisted on rushing home to start her daughter on the potion immediately since it was Thursday, and according to rule, Bashir was scheduled to visit tomorrow, Friday.
To that, we can only say: May Allah protect us from misfortune and waste! 😂😂😂😂😂
Summary
In this section of Wata Kishiyar, the narrative exposes the depths of desperation, manipulation, and moral decay surrounding Adda Fatu and her obsession with controlling Bashir and subduing Asma'u.
Adda bullies and guilt-trips her sister Dada into extracting funds (30,000 Naira) to support Amira, exploiting Dada's deep sense of loyalty and fear of losing family bonds. Meanwhile, Dada’s son Nazir confronts his mother about Adda’s parasitic and toxic behavior, warning her that Adda is manipulating her like a puppet and ruining her peace of mind, though Dada remains trapped in her cycle of enabling.
At the same time, Adda teams up with her friend Hajia Balaraba and falls victim—willingly and foolishly—to a pair of fraudulent spiritual scammers operating a fake shrine via a conniving Napep driver. Desperate to silence credit vendors like Indo, neutralize Asma'u, and bend Bashir to their will, Adda hands over her meager savings (80,000 Naira meant for debt relief) to purchase fake charms, cryptic potions, and absurd sacrificial rituals (including 20 imaginary rams). The chapter closes with Adda rushing back home to administer the fraudulent concoctions to a pregnant Amira just in time for Bashir's anticipated weekend visit.
Description of Main Characters
- Adda Fatu: The primary antagonist of these chapters. She is manipulative, abusive, financially reckless, and deeply entrenched in superstition and malice. Driven by entitlement and intense jealousy toward Asma'u, she exploits her sister Dada and bankrupts herself running to fraudulent spiritualists (malamn bita).
- Dada (Nafi): Adda's long-suffering younger sister and mother figure to the family. She is trapped in a toxic cycle of codependency, constantly enabling Adda's disruptive behavior out of misplaced loyalty and fear of being cursed or abandoned.
- Nazir: Dada's sharp-witted and pragmatic youngest son. He sees right through Adda's toxic manipulation and tries to snap his mother out of her submissive loyalty, expressing open disgust for Adda's extortion and scams.
- Hajia Balaraba: Adda Fatu's partner-in-crime and fellow gossip/conspiracy ally who introduces her to the network of fraudulent spiritual scams.
- The Fake Malam (Wizy) & The Napep Driver: A pair of street-smart con artists who exploit women's desperation in polygamous marriages by staging elaborate, fake spiritual consultations to fleece them of their cash.