Keltoumah Book Compelet

Description

She grabbed Dija tightly; she didn't even understand what Dada was saying, but seeing Dada's body trembling, she knew something was wrong. Her own body also started shaking as she widened her big white eyes. As for King, he couldn't help but laugh heartily, though he restrained himself into a gentle smile, watching how terrified they both were—people who spend their time begging for money, yet get terrified once they actually receive it.

He fixed his gaze on Dija, smiling, because her frightened expression and wide eyes only made her look even more strikingly beautiful to him. Before he realized it, he heard Dada say, "Dija, let’s run away," in Fulfulde. He didn’t catch what they said, but suddenly saw them bolt away at top speed, leaving him standing there with money in his hand. Unable to contain himself, he laughed all the way until he got into his car...

The next morning, he got ready early to head to the office—by 7:30 he was completely done dressing, even though he usually doesn't go until 9.

Inside one of those uncompleted buildings, Dija sat on the side on top of a cement bag, while Dada and her father sat nearby on similar bags, though theirs were larger. They were drinking koko (porridge) with kosai (bean cakes) since they usually had breakfast early before each went their separate ways. Suddenly, they looked up and saw King right above them.

Dada rubbed her eyes, blinking repeatedly to verify if what they were seeing was real, thinking perhaps she was hallucinating because they had spent the whole night terrified from encountering him. True to form, he flashed a reassuring smile to let her know it was really him. Instantly, she let out a shriek and screamed: "That's it! Hande min bone, it is certain we are dead, we are dead wallahi Dija! How did he know our house? Please, Kado, have mercy since we didn't take your money. Leave my young daughter alone, wallahi by the name of Allah, she is the only one we have!"

Hearing Dada's panicked wailing and seeing the direction she was staring—since Dija had her back turned—Dija turned around to look. The moment her eyes locked with his, the koko she was drinking went down the wrong pipe, and she burst into a violent coughing fit as if she were about to choke. Seeing that Dija's coughing showed no signs of stopping, King stepped back and quickly returned with a bottled water, opened it, and pressed it to her lips until she drank it all down. He helped her sit down; her eyes were bloodshot from the intense agony of the coughing fit. Even though she was terrified of him—especially since Dada had told her he was a headhunter, and she had even dreamt of him after falling asleep—Dada was still crying.

Meanwhile, King noticed an elderly man sitting nearby who looked rugged, wearing a white turban that looked like ash due to intense dirt, dressed in nomadic pastoralist attire. One trouser leg was torn from the knee down to the ankle, while the other looked as though it had been hammered with nails.

King raised his head to look at where these humble souls lived, and it was obvious this was where they made their home. It was a terribly dangerous environment in this day and age, especially since an old woman without the fear of God could easily be assaulted, let alone having a blooming young girl like Dija, who possessed a striking, eye-catching physique and wore clothes without even a headscarf.

He looked around the place carefully before turning his gaze back to Dada, who was still speaking in Fulfulde, likely telling the old man what happened yesterday. One thing he understood was that the old man whom Dada called Babaji seemed much calmer. Therefore, he walked over to him, greeted him, and extended his hand with an expanded smile, while Dada and her family huddled together, trembling.

Babaji took King's hand with both of his hands and they greeted each other. Right away, upon seeing King, he knew his wife and daughter's panicked claims about this fine gentleman being a headhunter were just foolishness. King introduced himself, stated his name, and explained his intentions toward them. The old man just kept nodding. Once King finished, he turned to look at Dada and explained in Fulfulde what King had said. Evidently, her Hausa was easier for them to understand and grasp, so Dada calmed down. Dija, on the other hand, kept rolling her eyes from the side, sitting as quietly as an idol because ever since yesterday, she had been thoroughly terrified of King due to Dada's constant stories about how headhunters operated.

King bade Babaji farewell, pulling out some money—less than the previous day because he noticed they preferred wandering from street to street rather than sitting idle with too much cash. He said: "Take this and use it; later today I will come back so we can have an important discussion." He emphasized his plea for them to stop begging. Babaji wanted to refuse at first, but felt his heart warming up to King, so he accepted it with prayers and expressions of gratitude. He said goodbye to Dada, who still hadn't fully relaxed, and she muttered: "Until we meet again, Kado."

That made him laugh—which morning was she referring to, other than the one they were currently in? He turned, looked straight into Dija's eyes, and flashed her a captivating smile before walking out of the uncompleted building with that smile lingering on his face. He felt a growing sense of joy, inner peace, and a strange new emotion stirring within him. He kept smiling to himself all alone while driving, feeling a wave of euphoria as he stroked his hair with one hand while steering with the other.

He connected his phone to the car's radio and played the song Right Next to You by Chris Brown and Justin Bieber, humming along with deep infatuation...

You got the smile that only heaven can make, I pray to God everyday that you keep the smile... 💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻

(THE MOST ROMANTIC PART 🥰 — To be continued, TEAM KING AND DIJAH)

Part 11

He walked into the Ministry of Foreign Affairs office with the smile still glued to his face. Although his office colleagues already knew King as a warm, friendly person who loved people and treated everyone like family, anyone who saw him today would know for a fact that he was in an exceptionally joyful mood. Half of his mind was focused on work, while the other half was occupied by thoughts of Dija, her parents, and his plans to completely transform and uplift their lives. As soon as closing time arrived, he packed his things and hit the road.

He arrived at Dija's uncompleted building hoping to God that they hadn't left today, just as he had asked them. He felt immense relief seeing them sitting together, not wandering the streets, and even Babaji was there waiting for King's return. Dija was lying on Dada's lap, braiding her long, silky hair—though dirt had changed its natural color, and you couldn't tell if it was neatly combed or plaited, it was just there.

With a greeting, he stepped into the area, his hands tucked into his jeans pockets. Babaji cheerfully responded and stood up to walk over to King. By now, Dija's anxiety around King had started to fade because ever since he left, she had been praying desperately for Boddo (the name she gave him in her heart, meaning "The Handsome One") to return so she could see him again. Ever since they entered the city, she hadn't seen anyone who charmed her as much as he did.

After exchanging greetings—even with Dada, who still hadn't completely warmed up to him—Babaji spread a cement sack on the ground for King to sit on, without minding the dust. Babaji also sat nearby on the floor.

"Baba, may I know your story? Meaning, where are you from, why are you living here, and why do you let your family beg?"

Babaji sighed deeply; right from his heart, he felt King had won him over despite not knowing him well. Despite the usual reserved nature of the Fulani people, he found himself answering King: "As for us, our origins are from the Fulani of Yola, but you know how we Fulani wander from town to town grazing our livestock. When we find a town, we pitch camp for a couple of days and then move on. That was how we were until Allah destined us to drift into a town where there was war and killings. We barely escaped what they called D'andugur, or so the people we survived with called it."

King smiled and said: "Could it be Maiduguri?" "Ah well, maybe that's it. Anyway, I am telling you, in the process, all our cattle perished. Who cares about cattle when lives were being lost? So we kept traveling, resting in various towns—Debbu and Bingel—sometimes begging to get what we could eat. Whenever we found a roofless building like this one we are in, we would sleep there. Sometimes the owners would chase us away, and so on until Allah brought us to this town."

Filled with deep sympathy, King shook his head. Indeed, when you witness the lives some people live, you realize this world is nothing. Here we have leaders whom Allah entrusted with the welfare of His citizens, giving them power and wealth to support those at the bottom, yet their eyes are blinded. Each one's sole ambition is to build wealth for themselves and their families; selfishness and greed have taken deep root in the hearts of leaders and the affluent. They care for no one but themselves. That is why terrorism and thievery have skyrocketed, along with armies of beggars everywhere.

A hidden yet deeply cherished ambition stirred within him. He knew he possessed wealth, and this was the exact moment to put it to use.

Ever since before finishing university, he had witnessed bizarre things happening in his finances: whenever he left even five Naira behind, it would multiply into ten. Initially, it baffled him, but eventually, it started frightening him. Ever since his father was alive, he was never allowed to use the money he suspected jinns were multiplying for him. Even now, after the death of his parents, the phenomenon had grown so intense that whenever he opened his wardrobe, he would encounter massive piles of cash. Sometimes he would gather them into a separate room and burn them, because he never had any desire to use them.

When the phenomenon became overwhelming, he consulted a scholar who advised him to simply give the money away as charity rather than using it himself, advising him to only use what rightfully belonged to him through legitimate means. However, he had now decided to use that wealth to fulfill his goals and vision.

He looked over at Dija and her family, then turned his gaze back to Babaji and said: "Baba, I am asking you a favor. If you don't mind, I want to take you and your family to come live in my house, since I live all alone. My parents passed away a few months ago."

Babaji fell silent, contemplating his words. Outwardly, King didn't look like a bad person, but the world has become so corrupt that you can never tell the good from the evil, because even bad people now disguise themselves as good individuals, committing treachery under the guise of trust. Finally, he drew a breath and said: "My son, I beg you for the sake of Allah, do not slaughter us. I agree that we will follow you, but please uphold our trust."

King smiled and adjusted his posture, eager to further reassure them of his noble intentions: "Set your mind at ease, Baba. Insha Allah, you will never have any problem with me. I want you to consider me like a son, because ever since I lost my parents, I have been living with anxiety, loneliness, and a lack of close family near me. All I am asking for is your trust."

Babaji's mind was completely put at ease by King's words: "Very well then, may Allah bless you and help you achieve your noble objective." "Ameen ya Rabbi, Baba. Thank you." "You're welcome. Did you say your name is Aliyu?" "Yes, Baba." "Without a doubt, you are truly a Lion (Zaki) from what I perceive of you."

Delighted by Babaji's praise, King replied: "Thank you, Baba. Insha Allah, you will find me far better than your expectations."

Babaji smiled and said: "Let me talk to them, shall I?" King simply nodded, and Babaji walked over to where Dija and Dada were staring fixedly at them. He sat down next to Dada, lowered his voice, and began explaining things to her in Fulfulde. Dada's eyes widened in her native tongue, and she exclaimed: "Wallahi, it cannot work! With my right mind, I will not agree to walk myself straight into a slaughterhouse. No, no! Dija, get up, let's be on our way, your father has bartered away our lives!"

She began trying to pull Dija up while shedding tears. As for Dija, hearing what her father said left her heart torn in two: on one hand, she felt happy because at least she would get to gaze at Bad'do every single day, while on the other hand, she felt terrified just as Dada warned—what if he really intended to slaughter them? But she knew how much Babaji loved her and would never take her anywhere that would spell her doom, because Babaji always took her and her mother everywhere with him, even when grazing cattle.

With the greatest difficulty, Dada finally agreed to follow King, though she kept shooting fierce glares at him. King simply returned her glares with a smile. Seeing that, Dada balked again, declaring that allambaram, they weren't going anywhere, especially since he was flashing them a wicked smile.

"You man, fear Allah and leave us to live our lives like this! We never asked anyone for help, let alone throwing ourselves into destruction. Miyatti Allah, miyatti Annabijo! Leave us as we found us, alive and well. Please, I beg you by Allah, leave us alone!"

Dada continued pleading with him in the name of Allah and the Prophet. Babaji, seeing that she wouldn't see reason, picked up his sack, slung it over his shoulder, grabbed his walking stick, and said: "Look here Aliyu, let's go. Leave them; those who want to harm them and violate Dija have found their opportunity anyway, since I'm the one who protects them at night."

Hearing that, Dada grabbed Dija's hand in a panic, and suddenly they were standing right in front of King's car, trembling. Babaji sat in the front passenger seat, while Dija and Dada huddled together in the back, rolling their eyes in terror. Through the rearview mirror, King watched them and simply shook his head with a smile. Presently, he heard Dija's sweet voice speaking to Dada in Fulfulde. It was the first time he had heard her speak in his presence. He closed his eyes and rested his head slightly against the seat as he drove slowly, feeling as fragile as a cracked egg because a sudden wave of tenderness washed over him.

Does her voice naturally possess such exquisite sweetness, or is it just me feeling this way?

He wondered to himself, while simultaneously feeling a spike of frustration remembering yesterday when he first saw them begging—yet this was how her voice sounded. He thanked Allah for saving them where they lived, and resolved to protect and care for them to the absolute limit of his strength, because he couldn't hide the fact: he was madly in love with the girl and would do anything for her.

Part 12

Not a single person uttered a word all the way until they arrived at his massive mansion situated in the heart of Unguwan Gangare, except for Dada and Dija who murmured quietly to each other while casting nervous glances around. After he honked, the gatekeeper opened the gate, and at the sight of this terrifying paradise in their eyes, Dada let out a wail that caused both King and Babaji to turn around after King parked in the compound.

"That's it, that's it! Hande min bone, it is certain that today our days are numbered. May Allah have mercy on us and you, my bingel!"

She burst into fresh tears, holding onto Dija, who also started crying even though she didn't fully understand what Dada was crying about. King simply shook his head, smiling at the stubborn nature of the Fulani—once they set their minds on something, it is nearly impossible to change their perspective. In the past, he had only heard stories about it, but now he was witnessing it ra'ayl ayn (with his own eyes).

He got out of the car, walked around, and opened the door for Babaji, who was too frustrated with his wife to even speak. King opened the back door for the women. A chuckle escaped him seeing how they were curled up together crying, while Dada kept shaking her head at him and clutching Dija tighter to her body.

"Leave them be, she is more stubborn than the early infidels," Babaji said in annoyance. King smiled and said: "No Baba, please have patience. Come and coax them to go inside."

Babaji hissed and stepped closer to the back door, scolding them fiercely in Fulfulde as if ready to bite their heads off. He told Dija that if she didn't step out, he would shatter her with his walking stick. Helplessly, Dija tumbled out of the car like someone dismounting a speeding motorcycle, nearly falling to the ground. King, whose attention was entirely on them, moved quickly to catch her, but even so, her knee scraped against the ground. Instantly, she let out a piercing shriek that echoed through the entire compound. This prompted Dada to rush out hastily—almost falling herself—and fling herself over Dija, who was crouched on the floor screaming in pain. Even though it was just a minor scrape, seeing any amount of blood on her delicate body alarmed Dada immensely.

Babaji found a spot nearby and sat down, turning his face away from them. Dada sat flat on the floor in front of Dija, cupping her chin and mourning like orphans.

King begged them every which way to get up from the ground because Maghrib prayer call was already starting, but they refused. He called out to Baba Audu the gatekeeper, who hurried over.

"Baba, take them to that back flat and have the housemaids show them everything, for Allah's sake."

King turned to where Babaji was sitting on the ground looking away and said: "Baba, Baba Audu will show you where you will stay. Let me go inside, it's time for prayer."

Babaji stood up and said: "Alright son, thank you, may Allah bless you." King responded with "Ameen" and hurried inside.

"Let's go, Baba," Baba Audu the gatekeeper said, leading the way. Babaji cast a single glance at Dada and Dija, who were cowering on the floor rolling their eyes, and walked away without addressing them. Dada jumped up quickly, telling Dija to stand, and they hurried after him.

It wasn't until after Isha'i prayer that King came into the house. Ever since he left for Maghrib prayer, he had instructed his cook to prepare extra meals because he had guests in the back section, and to deliver their food early once ready. He walked straight to the flat where Dija and her family were staying, carrying a bag. In the parlor, he found Dada and Dija huddled on the floor; they hadn't even performed their prayers yet. As for Babaji, once he was shown the rooms, toilet, and how everything worked, he had retreated into his own room and paid them no further mind.

"Why are you sitting here? Didn't they show you the rooms? Where is Baba?" King asked them. Dada replied: "For God's sake, just leave us alone! Ever since we arrived at your house, blood has already started coming out of my daughter's body even before we get slaughtered!"

Growing slightly weary of Dada's endless complaints, King said: "Please Dada, drop that talk. Trust me, wallahi I am not a monster. Please set your minds at ease and consider this your home. Right now, I bought some clothes and some useful things for you. Get up, let's go so I show you your room, you can take a bath and pray, and food has already been brought for you."

Although Dada's mind wasn't entirely put at ease by his words, she had no other choice, realizing Dija's father had gotten them into this mess. Bracing herself, she stood up and told Dija to get up as well.

As for Dija, ever since King started speaking, she had just been staring at his lips, thinking to herself: If only I could understand what he is saying. There were two bedrooms in the parlor, plus a kitchen and a toilet. He opened one room and found it empty; Babaji must have taken the other one. They followed him inside, and he showed them the toilet and everything else, including luxurious furniture that left Dada and Dija standing with their mouths wide open like fools.

Just as he turned to leave, he caught the sound of her voice saying: "BAD'D'O."

He turned around. Though he wasn't certain she was addressing him, their eyes locked instantly. He closed his eyes, feeling a strange sensation ripple through his body, while she quickly lowered her gaze and began playing with her long fingers, intertwining them. Dada stared at her in shock, hearing the name Dija called King, waiting to see what she would say next.

"I want to take a bath. Where do I take it? Where is it done? What do I use, and how do I do it?"

She rattled off about four questions about the same thing, addressing them to a rational man—and frustratingly, in Fulfulde to a man who didn't even understand the phrase "I'm going to kill you" in that language, let alone anything else. But she spoke directly to him, assuming that overnight he had somehow learned their language.

From the moment she started speaking, King fixed his gaze on her, watching her small lips move with difficulty as she spoke like someone forced into it. He found her immensely charming, and didn't even realize she had stopped talking until he heard Dada's harsh voice scolding her angrily in Fulfulde.

Dija pouted her lips forward in a childish pout. "Malam, just leave and go, we are done. Go about your business, we understand everything."

King smiled and walked out, pulling the door shut behind them. He headed straight to his wing and went upstairs. Only then did he take a bath, put on a lightweight jallabiya, and stepped out onto his parlor connected to his bedroom. In one hand he held a glass cup filled with fresh milk, taking small sips, while his other hand operated his phone. He dialed a number that was clearly international; after one or two rings, the person picked up.

He remained silent with a smile, listening to the person speaking from the other end. King said: "So how are studies? When are you getting a break? I missed you here."

He smiled again as he listened to the speaker. "Okay, well may Allah bring it to pass. Best of luck."

He cut the call, then dialed another number. After it was picked up, he said: "How is it, guy? Though you're an old man now." He laughed after the other person spoke, then said: "That's not even why I'm calling. Please, I want you to send Zee over tomorrow to help me with something."

He hissed after the other person replied and said: "Are you told I'm a rogue like you? Even if I wanted to commit mischief, I wouldn't lack anyone else to do it with except your wife—you might as well tell me to tread carefully so your wife doesn't assault me in my own house!"

He laughed and said: "Okay, okay, sorry man. Please though, since it's weekend, come along tomorrow, it's urgent please." "Alright then, see you. May Allah spare our lives, bye."

He ended the call as well, turned on the TV, and watched briefly, though half his mind was still with Dija and her family. He wanted to go check on them again, yet feared Dada's outbursts. He smiled, placed the cup down...

Summary

In this sequence, King's charming eccentricity and deep romantic infatuation take center stage alongside a heartwarming cultural clash:

• The Encounter at the Uncompleted Building: King tracks down Dija and her nomadic Fulani family (Dada and Babaji) at their makeshift shelter. Despite Dada's frantic belief that King is a dangerous headhunter, King wins over Babaji with his gentle demeanor, generosity, and respect.
• Relocation to the Mansion: King successfully convinces Babaji to relocate his family to his secure mansion in Unguwan Gangare to lift them out of a life of begging. While Babaji quickly accepts, Dada remains deeply suspicious, dramatically mourning their perceived impending doom.
• Cultural Misunderstandings & Dija's Charm: Dija struggles with her growing infatuation for King—whom she mentally dubs "Bad'do" (The Handsome One)—while hilariously attempting to ask him bath-related questions in Fulfulde, assuming he magically understands her language.
• Behind Closed Doors: After settling them in, King returns to his private quarters, balancing phone calls with international contacts and arranging a visit from Zee (much to her husband AA Kaita's future dismay, though King's intentions here are purely operational/favors), while remaining mentally preoccupied with Dija's safety and well-being.

Detailed Description

• The Setting: The stark contrast between the squalor of the uncompleted building where the nomadic family lives (cement bags, dust, rough conditions) and the luxurious modern amenities of King's mansion highlights themes of social elevation and protection.
• The Characters:
  • King: Shows a softer, deeply romantic, and protective side, completely smitten by Dija's innocence and voice.
  • Dada: The archetype of the stubborn, fiercely protective, and paranoid matriarch whose dramatic outbursts provide comedic relief.
  • Babaji: Pragmatic, calm, and wise enough to distinguish between genuine kindness and malicious intent.
  • Dija: Innocent, captivated by King's beauty, and developing an endearing crush on her "Bad'do."

Analytics

• Character Arc Shift: King transitions from a brooding, vengeance-driven political player to an attentive, protective benefactor. His wealth, previously a source of existential dread (the multiplying money he tries to burn or give away), finally finds a purposeful outlet in elevating the vulnerable.
• Comic Relief through Language Barrier: The communication gaps between Dada/Dija (speaking Fulfulde/broken interactions) and King create a lighthearted buffer against the darker political and murder-mystery plots running in the background of the novel.
• Romantic Trope Integration: The text leans heavily into classic romance tropes—the wealthy, powerful hero rescuing the impoverished, innocent maiden, complete with cute nicknames (Boddo) and heart-fluttering eye contact.

Comments

• Tonal Shifts: The author handles shifting tones masterfully, moving seamlessly from the gritty, high-stakes murder investigations of Fu'ad and Mami in previous chapters to lighthearted, romantic, and humorous domestic sequences involving King and the nomadic family.
• Pacing: Slowing down the narrative to focus on Dija's introduction to modern living humanizes King, reminding the reader of his capacity for empathy and genuine affection amidst the surrounding corruption.

Conclusions

This segment injects a refreshing wave of romance, humor, and warmth into Return of the King. By taking Dija and her family under his wing, King is not only building a sanctuary for the vulnerable but also setting the emotional anchor for his personal life. As he navigates his growing feelings for Dija while juggling high-level political rivals and syndicates, the story deepens its emotional stakes, making King's upcoming battles carry personal weight not just for politics, but for the people he loves.