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Chapter 1
...Inside the office, Sabuwa received three types of herbal concotions (tsumi). We drank from a water bottle, and I mixed them together for her because she brought three different kinds.
"Honestly, Lolo, thank you to God. This time, your husband's family loves you very much. This Anty Khadija really did well for me, wallahi, just by looking at her demeanor you know she knows her worth. Now Lolo, is this where you two will be working? God is great, is this really your office?"
We laughed. Before they finished touring, Maigogul and his group arrived along with Hajiya Balaraba and Cicib, as they wanted to head towards Dutse. Today, Hajiya was going to go see Rakiya, and whatever the outcome, it was up to God.
"Gaza, so you came? By the power of God, Alhaji, what can we say to you except to show gratitude," Cicib said.
"It's nothing, Alhaji. Baban Rahine is my friend."
"I am just troubled by missing Rahine, Alhaji. I left her scratching everywhere. Oh, if you would just let me, I would go pick up Rahine so we can live together, wallahi. She will be very useful, she can even guard the place."
Alhaji just laughed and tapped Gaza’s shoulder. Maigogul said, "Such foolish nonsense! You were brought here to work, what does Rahine have to do with this? It's better you sit down and do your job."
"Hattara! Dattijo, ever since I came to this place, have you seen me pay attention to you? Since you touched half of my soul, you touched the place of indigo dye, wallahi!"
"Beware, Baban Rahine, you don't speak to elders like that. You should soften your tone when addressing them. Alhaji Baba, please forgive him."
Maigogul laughed and said, "There is no problem, he is just feeling jealous of his wife, that's why. That's their only hypocrisy; when he came, he didn't even look for me, let alone wish to see his little mother."
I stood there, overwhelmed with shyness. Gaza looked at Hajiya Balaraba and said, "I have come to greet you for the day." She cheerfully replied, "Well, of course, no one is barring you."
Labbai said, "As for us, we are leaving. May God decree our meeting again. Alhaji Zaidu, please convey my greetings to Haji and her health."
"Alright, she will hear it."
Alhaji searched his pockets and handed money to Cicib, to Maigogul, and even to Uzairu Zuchiyata. He gave me some to hand over to Labbai, and by the feel of Labbai's envelope, it must have been fifty thousand or at least thirty thousand.
Maigogul, Uzairu Zuchiyata, and Hajiya left in the same car, leaving the three of us behind.
"Now, Big Brother. I saw what looked like a bedroom in this company, and I saw clothes hanging, meaning people sleep here, right? Instead of me going to stay at my younger sister's house, if I'm given a space here, I will honestly feel much more relaxed."
"I understand, Baban Rahine. There is Shu'aibu, one of my trusted boys, whom I want you and him to be shuttling back and forth to Cotonou and other countries to buy cars. I rented a two-bedroom and a living room for him, but we wanted just a room and parlor and couldn't get it because he wanted to bring his family to town, but they refused, so he had to leave them in Rano. You can share a room with him. Hold on, let me call him so you can go and start your work."
He called Shu'aibu, who arrived quickly.
"Shu'aibu, meet Baban Rahine, your wife's brother. You two will share a room, and he is the one you will be going with to buy cars. Show him everything necessary, and buy him a mattress and anything he needs for the room."
"Alright, boss, it's done. Baban Rahine, welcome, we can go."
Gaza laughed and said, "Lolo, help me thank him a thousand thanks, I said Alhaji, wallahi you will see loyalty."
He turned and walked away, raising his hands in the air.
Alhaji Zaid pulled my hand and we went into his office. He sat me on his lap with both his arms wrapped tightly around my waist.
"Who touched you, uhm? My attention is entirely on you. What is it, uhm, tell me."
He squeezed my waist and I closed my eyes. "There's nothing, it's just that my body doesn't feel quite well."
He immediately panicked, saying we should go to the hospital. I calmed him down by doing what I knew he liked best—kissing him. Instantly, we drifted up to seventh heaven, flying high, and our flight barely managed to land.
With half-closed, reddened eyes, and in a lazy, seductive voice, he said:
"You honored me in front of Haji, uhm. It's like I'm the only one who misses you, uhm, Wazirat. Shall we go to a hotel after we finish the meeting, uhm? I have a meeting, and then I will introduce Baban Rahine, his name will be written down, and I will help him fill out some forms. I will also introduce you to them."
I melted into his body like a child. "I will do just as you wish. Have you forgotten that you own Sabuwa completely? My body is full of longing for you, my love."
He smiled at me and plunged back into the place he loved best. We spent a long time in that cool, pleasant shade. Only when it was time for the meeting did he stand up, straighten himself, and we walked out straight to the room set aside for the meeting.
Everyone was gathered, and lo and behold, even Gaza was sitting there wearing those wretched clothes, as he had no better ones. I sat in the chair next to Alhaji Zaidu. The meeting commenced, and after thirty minutes, everyone was dismissed. He told Gaza to see him in the office.
Gaza came, they filled out the paperwork, and after that, they left for prayers. I performed my ablution and prayed as well. When he returned, he picked me up in the front seat of his car and we headed to a luxurious black guest house of the wealthy. He paid for the room and we went inside. As soon as we entered, he pressed me hard against the wall. Indeed, at this guest house, we did something truly memorable—an experience that stays etched in the heart.
He whispered in my ear just as I was drifting off to sleep:
"May God make my deposit enter into good fortune. You are ready to taste honeymoon life in Jeddah, right? Get ready, God willing, over there we will find a daughter named Jeddah, God willing."
I snuggled back into his body, unable to speak, and fell asleep.
We didn't wake up until mid-afternoon. In a rush, he took a quick bath and hurried off to the mosque. In short, it was only by late night that we left the guest house to return home. Our hearts were overflowing with happiness, a strange kind of longing, and deep peace. Wallahi, this experience once again sparked a connection and tranquility in both heart and soul.
When we got home, Hajiya's younger female relatives were there, while she was lying down, giving me the monkey-and-banana treatment. I checked on her physically, dropped off souvenirs, and went straight inside.
Then I called Rakiya. As soon as she picked up, I could hear Maigogul's noise in the background.
"Wallahi, either you rent a guest house for her to sleep and leave tomorrow, or I will leave this house!" Rakiya shouted. I closed my eyes.
"Haba Rakiya, why would you..."
"Abu Takazan... Hey Lolo, I carry you in my womb, keep quiet or I will give birth to a wretched child! Putting your hand in this marriage—you, Uzairu Zuchiyata, and you are all confused. Why are you calling me anyway?"
I let out a sigh and said, "May God forgive you, I just called to inform you that we are traveling to Jeddah tomorrow. And I brought a package for Labbai to bring to you. Rakiya, please exercise patience, wallahi you argue too much."
She burst into ululation and said, "My daughter has become a queen! Hiye, Lolo, did you say Jeddah—the holy land? The Messenger of Allah of Madina, me, Rakiya! Alright then, Lolo, you said Labbai is bringing me a package, what kind of package is it?"
I smiled and said, "Money and an atampa fabric, and earrings that I said should be given to Hauwa." I was teasing her.
"That black hypocrite? She won't get a single thing, I swear to God by His name! Out of all her children, who has ever given me anything? Even the amulets she locked up in the police station, what good did they do her except by the will of God? They are whispering everywhere, you know how Hauwa is with gossip."
Rakiya spent over ten minutes talking, and with great difficulty, we said our goodbyes while I could hear her bossing Maigogul around.
That night, I finished packing everything for us before going to sleep. Early in the morning, I just had some tea, tidied our quarters, and stepped out looking radiant in a black abaya, matching bag, shoes, and our luggage trunk. In the living room, we met Hajiya standing, leaning against the wall. Seeing me with my luggage all packed left her utterly speechless.
Alhaji Zaidu came downstairs dressed in a black jalabiya with trousers, looking extremely handsome and radiant. Suddenly, thud, Hajiya collapsed to the floor, breathing faintly.
Chapter 2
I quickly dropped my luggage and rushed to her, comforting her. My greatest hope was that she wasn't faking it just to cancel the trip, because that was always her wish. I suspected her trickery. Wallahi, she started raving that she was dying and seeing the angels of death, insisting the trip must be called off.
She panicked Alhaji Zaidu, and my heart raced too because her illness suddenly flared up with fierce intensity, and wallahi, she even looked like she had instantly lost weight. I helped him put her in the back of the car, and his younger brother drove us to the airport while she kept calling upon God without even opening her eyes. As for Goga, he kept blowing prayers over her. Exactly at nine o'clock, we were put on a bus to the tarmac and boarded the plane.
We spent ten hours on the flight, and since the plane had many stopovers, we were both completely exhausted. At seven in the evening, we landed in Jeddah. From there, we took a car straight to a hospital—Dr. Sameer Abbas’s private hospital, as the sign read. Hmm, the hospital was exceptionally well-equipped.
I followed behind them as she was rushed into a special room. Alhaji and I followed the doctor to his office while I looked around in awe. I could hear them speaking Arabic continuously, and the doctor even pointed at me. I heard Alhaji say something like "Zaujati" (my wife)—Arabic students can correct me if I spelled it wrong.
He and the doctor went out and didn't return until ten at night. He peeked in and handed me milk in a small bottle to drink, while he didn't even take a sip of water, poor man. As soon as they entered, he looked at me and smiled. I returned the smile and said:
"My sweet, let's go to our accommodation, and tomorrow evening we will come back to the hospital because she was given injections, and tomorrow night or the day after in the morning she will wake up."
He extended his hand, I held it, and as I stood up, he said to the doctor, "Doktor ma'assalama" (Goodbye, doctor). They shook hands, we left the hospital, and took a taxi.
In the back seat of the car, I snuggled into his body with my bag on my lap. By sheer accident, I asked him to hand me my watch. As he reached into his bag, he pulled out an envelope that Babangida had sent through Mardiyya for me. Instantly, a rush of blood surged to my head, and my hands grew cold and damp out of sheer panic.
He handed me the watch. I took it with my hand while he looked at me, smiled, and opened the envelope, revealing money and a letter. The money wasn't thick. He picked up the letter and looked at me.
"Whose message is this that you haven't opened yet, my sweet, uhm?"
He didn't ask expecting an answer; he unfolded the letter. The writing was barely four lines long, and here is what the trickster wrote:
Cus, I won't say I congratulate you because wallahi my heart feels like it's about to drop.
So it's true there is a day you will live under the shadow of another giant man named Babangida Kaciğari?
Even though I am glad you didn't marry that goat Khalid.
Finally, I am asking for your forgiveness.
Forever, you belong to Babangida.
Instantly, I felt a fever coming on.
"Cus? Forever you belong to me—Cus, Cus?" I heard him repeating in a weak, broken voice.
He folded the letter, put it back with the money, and returned them to the bag. All the way back to the guest house, he didn't speak another word, but he kept smiling whenever our eyes met.
When we arrived and entered our room, he took Babangida’s letter and threw it in the trash can. I heard him making a phone call in Arabic. As soon as he hung up, he let out a sigh, walked into the bathroom, and I heard him turn on the shower.
I followed him in. With his eyes closed, he felt my hand on his face as warm water continued to pour over us, matching the heavy mood of the moment.
He looked at me with reddened eyes and said, "Do you even know the depth of my jealousy, my sweet?"
Before I could speak, he pulled my hand and placed it over his rapidly beating heart. I hugged him tightly and said, "Because of his insignificance, I had even forgotten about the letter. If I wanted to, I would have read it to you before you even saw it."
He cupped my face and we gazed at each other.
"Sweet, don't ever let him send a letter and you accept it—I won't tolerate it. And what bothered me most was hearing him call you 'Cus.' Did he call you Cus? But do you even know what 'Cus' means and the kind of woman they call Cus? That’s what he calls his own wife! And saying that you belong to him forever..."
I silenced his lips with what he loved best, forcing him into quietness as he began to let out sighs of relief. I washed his heart clean of all worries, and then we took a bath together, made ablution, and stepped out.
I prayed Maghrib and Isha. As for him, he only prayed Isha, and right after he finished, food was brought—rice, chicken, and some sour milk (nono) in a cup, though I noticed onions and green herbs in it. Apparently, that's how it's traditionally mixed and consumed; I saw it when we went for Umrah, but I always discarded the milk until today when Alhaji Zaidu poured it for us, and wallahi, it was delicious.
"Sweet, what do you think is appropriate to do for Mama, Mama Hauwa, and Alhaji Baba?"
"Haba now, Master, we won't put you under any extra financial burden. The house you bought for us is more than enough, wallahi, there's nothing more we can ask for. Plus, you gave Gaza a job, he will help them too."
He gave me a loving, playful glare. I laughed and said nothing, and he said nothing more until we finished eating. I washed it down with the local milk, while he drank the herbal tea they brought.
I pulled out our nightwear. At that moment, he stepped out, saying he would be right back. I put on a white, provocative nightgown, drenched my body in married women's traditional perfumes (humra), and rubbed humra along the waist beads (jigida) around my hips, because I had noticed he was utterly obsessed with the waist beads—they captivated his attention, and he loved their scent. (You too should own yours, Hajiya, there is a great secret behind this waist belt. If you want one, talk to me, Hajiya.) I brushed my teeth thoroughly, popped a mint in my mouth, and climbed onto the bed with a sigh of relief.
He pushed the door open and walked in. Ya Ilahi! What happened that night was extraordinary. We intertwined passionately, and Alhaji went wild like a starving lion over me. We were submerged in a unique kind of joy.
After everything settled and we had cleansed our bodies and returned to bed, I asked him:
"What did the doctor say concerning Hajiya's health?"
He stroked my face and whispered words that nearly made me melt into a puddle, while he just laughed at me. With that, we brushed aside the topic of Hajiya and dove into baring our souls to each other, each telling the other how they felt when such and such happened...
We rolled around on the bed—I noticed Alhaji loved that rolling game immensely, and it was another form of enduring romance in the heart, wallahi. After that, we fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.
We woke up the next morning. He went to the mosque, and before he returned, I took a quick bath and dressed in attractive casual wear. We barely had time to share a breakfast before heading back to sleep, and we didn't wake up until around ten in the morning. I was the first to wake up, getting up quietly so as not to disturb him, as the poor man was terribly behind on sleep.
By the time I finished bathing and wore a matching skirt-and-top outfit from the boutique, he still hadn't woken up. Hunger was gnawing at my stomach, so I pulled out my date-and-sesame paste (gumba) and started eating. Wallahi, I ate almost half of a one-liter container before I felt somewhat better, washing it down with the leftover milk from yesterday.
Alhaji woke up around eleven in the morning. As soon as he opened his eyes, he caught sight of me. I just flashed him a smile. He immediately started making phone calls to room service before stepping into the bathroom.
Before he came out, I tidied the bed and pulled out his clothes. I helped him apply lotion and dress.
"You look stunning. These clothes suit you so well—although atampa is fine when going out, when I see you in this kind of attire, especially without a headtie, I feel so much happier. You keep amazing me, my Wazirat who raves in her sleep, uhm."
I laughed at him, and he laughed back, teasing me continuously.
We had breakfast in high spirits. After mid-afternoon (Asr), he told me to get dressed so we could go out briefly; his friend from Kano living here in Jeddah wanted us to come tour the city and see the sights.
Without wasting time, I dressed in a spotless white abaya that I knew looked gorgeous on me.
"Well, as for this abaya, I really love it because it looks amazing on you too, uhm. I think we should buy more before we leave, right?"
I smiled at him, held his hand, and we went out.
We caught a taxi and arrived at his friend's neighborhood. When he called his friend using his Saudi number, he was informed that they weren't around because they had gone to Madina to drop off his friend's madam.
"Well, sweet, let's explore the city. Prince Majid Park is right behind us, we can even walk down there so you can sightsee, uhm."
And indeed, I enjoyed the sightseeing immensely. The park was peaceful even though people were starting to arrive—it's said that in places like Jeddah, people prefer coming out at night, while in the morning and afternoon, women are usually secluded at home.
We shared romantic moments, even running around playfully like children; wallahi, it felt like we never wanted to leave that place. But inevitably, as Maghrib approached, we hopped on transport back to the hospital to check on Hajiya.
We went in and checked on her; she was lying down receiving IV fluids while fast asleep. I noticed that even when we were at the park, he had called the hospital to check on her. Hajiya's family back home had also called to inquire about her health. He left me in the room to go pray and return, after which we left the hospital with the understanding that we would return early the next morning, as she could wake up anytime the next day.
In short, it was around midnight when we got back home. That night too, we spent it in peace and deep happiness.
Early in the morning, amidst the biting chill of the desert cold, we headed to the hospital. And lo and behold, by the power and permission of God, we found that Hajiya had woken up.
But wallahi, she was truly sick now—I was certain of it, and the doctors confirmed it too. However, her high blood pressure was a greater factor than psychological stress, according to her doctor.
I noticed she didn't even want to see or look at me. When I greeted her, she just waved her hand dismissively and refused to speak to me, focusing all her attention on her husband, whom she clung to. He didn't have a moment of peace until she was given injections after eating around ten in the morning, and we were told she wouldn't wake up again until the next day or the day after.
When his friend and his family arrived, since we were preparing to leave anyway, we just left with them to their house. The friend's wife was cheerful, friendly, and very sophisticated from what I gathered. Even when we arrived at their house, she welcomed me warmly and even took me into her master bedroom. We sat down while her two young daughters ran back and forth.
"Ah, miracle bride! We had no idea Alhaji Zaidu had married again. We thought he had given up on marriage since his previous wife wouldn't let anyone's children stay," she said, finishing with a knowing smile that she kept to herself.
In astonishment, I said, "I don't understand—she was the one driving the wives away, Mama Yasmin? I thought Hajiya had no problems. She even bought me luggage, and ever since I was married to him, she has been so welcoming to me."
She smiled and said, "Ah, new bride! You see me here? My biological younger sister married your husband, and I arranged the marriage. Do you know God? She is the one who drives away wives very smoothly! With that same kindness you saw her display as a sign—let me not overwhelm you with talk, let me go get us some snacks."
As she moved to get up from the bed, I quickly grabbed her.
"Please, Mama Yasmin, put me on the right path. Wallahi, I don't want anything that will separate me from my husband, wallahi by God."
She smiled and said, "You are playing with fire, Sabuwa, you don't know. Hajiya Munubiya is extremely dangerous! She is far beyond any descriptions you can be given. But I will help you. I will connect you with that younger sister of mine; she is currently in Abuja, married to a high-ranking government official who holds significant power. She would know better than anyone what to tell you. Make sure that when you return, you manage to meet Aisha and discuss this. I will also hint some things to you just in case. Just wait, I'll be right back."
She walked out and left me, while absolute astonishment paralyzed my peace of mind, wallahi. I knew Hajiya was deeply manipulative, but I never imagined she was the one driving away all the women Alhaji had previously married. Indeed, a huge task lay ahead of me, because starting with myself, God willing, her wicked spell would be broken. I was going to track down all the women Alhaji had been married to, learn the secrets of surviving living with Hajiya, and take that task upon myself.
While I sat right where she had left me, she returned with a tray loaded with snacks and junk food, placing it before us. We ate in silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts.
I broke the silence by asking:
"Mama Yasmin, does Alhaji not know who Hajiya Munubiya really is? And does he have no idea that she is the one driving his wives away?"
She laughed, and I saw tears welling up in her eyes, which filled me with sudden dread.
"Sabuwa, Alhaji trusts Hajiya Munubiya more than he trusts himself. I don't think he would ever trust any woman the way he trusts her. He has no idea about her true character and wicked schemes. Likewise, his family has no idea what she's really like. You don't know—she is a terribly dangerous woman! And she knows her worth and her moves. Aisha suffered greatly; even after her separation from Alhaji Zaidu, she underwent heavy medical treatment. Because he takes everything she presents to him at face value, poor man, he knows nothing. He is kind and loves to help people, wallahi. His family is large, but they are united, loving, and sensible.
Now, the advice I will give you is: amass as much wealth as you can, and stay fully prepared. I swear to God by His name, Hajiya Munubiya will never allow Alhaji Zaidu to live with any other woman except herself alone."
I smiled at her, finding courage and surrendering my affairs to God, and said to her:
"The thief has a thousand days, but the owner has just one day. Mama Yasmin, Hajiya Munubiya—perhaps..."
Summary
In this chapter, Sabuwa and Alhaji Zaidu travel to Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, accompanied by a critically ill Hajiya (Munubiya) and Gaza. Upon arrival, Hajiya is admitted to Dr. Sameer Abbas’s hospital. Amidst navigating hospital visits, luxury hotel stays, and romantic outings in Jeddah, Sabuwa is briefly disturbed by an old, lingering text message from her former suitor, Babangida, which Alhaji quickly discovers and dismisses.
The plot thickens when Sabuwa visits Alhaji's friend's house with his wife, Mama Yasmin. Mama Yasmin drops a bombshell revelation: Hajiya Munubiya is not the sweet, benevolent mother figure she pretends to be. Instead, she is a master manipulator and the hidden mastermind who systematically sabotaged and drove away all of Alhaji Zaidu's previous wives out of possessive jealousy. Armed with this shocking intelligence, Sabuwa resolves to uncover the truth, protect her marriage, and confront Hajiya's toxic dominance.
Description
The text is written in a rich Hausa-English cultural blend typical of contemporary Nigerian popular fiction (specifically Hausa littattafan soyayya style). It blends emotional romance, domestic drama, suspense, and psychological maneuvering. The narrative moves dynamically between bustling domestic scenes in Nigeria and the sleek, high-end backdrop of Jeddah, contrasting lighthearted marital affection with underlying malicious family politics.
Analytics
- Setting: Northern Nigeria ( Kano/Rano) transitioning to Jeddah, Saudi Arabia (hospitals, parks, guest houses).
- Core Themes:
- Secret Machinations & Deception: The contrast between Hajiya Munubiya’s outward piety/kindness and her ruthless, manipulative domestic control.
- Marital Devotion & Romance: The intense emotional and physical chemistry between Sabuwa and Alhaji Zaidu, juxtaposed with the threat of past and present rivals.
- Sisterhood and Intelligence Gathering: Sabuwa realizing she must ally with past victims (like Aisha via Mama Yasmin’s sister) to survive.
- Key Characters:
- Sabuwa (Lolo): The protagonist and newly favored wife; observant, deeply in love, yet increasingly strategic and resilient.
- Alhaji Zaidu: Wealthy, generous, deeply affectionate toward Sabuwa, yet utterly blind to Hajiya Munubiya's toxic manipulation.
- Hajiya Munubiya (Mama): The primary antagonist; a cunning matriarch who feigns illness and benevolence while secretly sabotaging all other women in Alhaji's life.
- Mama Yasmin: A secondary character/informant in Jeddah who exposes Hajiya's true nature to Sabuwa.
