Kwarton Boye Hausa Book

Description

Danja (the traffic junction) was packed with roadside vendors rushing forward with their goods, each heading toward the car they believed most likely to buy from them.

Swiftly, she hurried toward a red car whose driver had just moved away due to a failed bargain with the car owner. As she reached it, she lifted her tray and said, "Here is guava, pineapple, banana. Will you buy, Hajiya?"

The woman inside the car glanced at her, wrinkled her nose upon seeing that she was an older vendor rather than a young girl, and asked arrogantly, "How much?"

The girl replied, "Hajiya, guavas are two hundred naira each, pineapples two hundred and fifty, and bananas forty naira each."

Even though the total amount was less than what the woman had originally been unwilling to spend, she nonetheless said, "Look here, take one thousand naira, pack everything for me, but subtract twenty naira from each item. If you do that, pack it. If it doesn't suit you, the traffic light is about to change, so you better move along because you're sweating under this blazing sun!"

Quickly, she placed the items down, packed them for the woman, and handed them over. She grabbed the money thrown at her while her body trembled.

As she turned away, she heard a man shouting at another woman who had tossed money at him, saying, "Hajiya, you are short by twenty-five naira." The woman replied, "I don't have it." He shook his head, and since he was a bit hot-tempered, he said, "May God provide for you there, and provide for us over here." She rolled down her car window and cursed, "Your father's..."

Suddenly, the crowd began pressing her with horns because the traffic light had turned green and people were impatient. Thus, she leaned out and threw a mocking gesture at him through the car window, while he mocked her back.

In this manner, they managed to return to the roadside, each carrying their goods.

At 1:00 PM, they all headed toward the rubbish dump because most of them lacked the capital to start businesses at home; instead, they had to go to suppliers, take goods on credit, go out to hawk them, and return after making sales.

Slowly, she looked at the person closest to her—the one she seemed to share the closest bond with—and said, "Sabiu, please hold this money for me for a moment. I want to adjust the position of this pineapple; it is too heavy, and our walk is far."

The one called Sabiu took it and said, "Oh, come on! Today you should just say Alhamdulillah because I saw you made sales. Me, I only made three hundred naira."

From a distance, someone else chimed in, saying, "Of course she made sales! She eats away at people's shares. As for that Hajiya, I was the one who approached her first, but because she is a busybody, she reduced her prices just to sell before anyone else. Well, God's will prevails; today even you got yelled at, Bala!"

Sabiu said, "Look, Bala, she didn't reply to you, so it's none of your business. Besides, everyone eats from their own share, right?"

Bala spat out and said, "Yes, that's true, but someone is eating another person's share! As for me, if it weren't for desperation, who would combine being a woman with hawking and mingling among men? We run just like her; we scream and shout our hawking cries just like her. But this desperate woman never gets tired! As soon as she returns, she goes right back out to hawk another item, and you never even see her spending the money on herself. Instead, she goes to spend it on an old woman who is practically on her deathbed any second now! Meanwhile, she prevents us from making a living."

It was at that moment the young girl reached out, took the money she had given Sabiu to hold, turned around, glared slightly at Bala, and said, "Bala, whatever you say about me, be sure it is waiting to ambush you. Today, even if aging isn't guaranteed, death is. At least I am benefiting someone, and I pray to God to make me righteous. Alhamdulillah, today nobody called me a thief, a prostitute, or a beggar, because despite our poverty, I am earning NEMAN NA KAINA (by the sweat of my brow)."

Having finished saying this, she calmly turned and took a different route because she could no longer endure walking with Bala, who was always looking for trouble.

Before they arrived, she had already handed over her money and what remained. He subtracted three hundred naira and handed the rest to her. Then she set off toward their ruined mud-brick shack, despite the long distance.

Along the way, she stopped to buy garri (cassava flakes) and sugar, added some rice and minor soup ingredients, held onto the thirty-five naira change, and headed toward the broken-down mud structure that served as their doorway.

Upon arriving, she greeted them and walked into the shade of the main courtyard where the old woman sat enjoying the breeze. Catching sight of the young girl, the old woman began to show her gums, as she didn't have a single tooth left in her mouth.

The young girl walked up calmly and said, "Inna, are you tired? Be patient, let me help you perform ablution so you can pray, then I will give you food and go pick up secondhand clothes. Look, today I even had the government-distributed rice measured out for me. Shall I cook it for you?"

Slowly, she helped the old woman up. The old woman lifted her head and stared into the girl's face. In the raspy voice of an exhausted elderly person, she said, "May Allah bless you, NURIYAH."

Nuriyah smiled, wiped away her tears, carefully helped Inna perform ablution, and helped her pray.

After Inna concluded her prayers—which took nearly thirty minutes because even bending down was a struggle—she slowly turned and beckoned to Nuriyah.

As Nuriyah approached, she began stirring the soaked garri smoothly. Inna asked, "Do you never feel disgusted by me? Aren't you afraid of the disease in my body? You know it is contagious! Nuriyah, please start protecting yourself, for heaven's sake! You are only 18 years old; you haven't even begun your life yet, Nuriyah."

A fit of coughing suddenly overtook her because whenever she spoke at length, coughing would greet her. Being elderly, her bladder also decided not to cooperate.

Nuriyah said nothing; she merely shook her head, stood up, and... (text cuts off briefly before continuing in Part 2)

Nuriyah shook her head, said nothing, stood up, retrieved one of the old fabrics drying on the clothesline she had rigged up, and helped Inna change her soiled clothing after pouring water over the urine spot. Gently, she wiped the area and leaned Inna against the courtyard pillar, which seemed to be their communal resting spot. Calmly, she picked up the bowl of garri that had thoroughly soaked with a little sugar, adjusted her seating, and fed Inna spoonful by spoonful while wiping her face whenever she spilled. In this manner, she finished feeding her, cleaned her up thoroughly, and adjusted her seating.

She sat facing Inna, staring until frustration began to creep in. Stealthily, she stood up, washed the cup, stored it away, and prepared her own cup of soaked garri. After it soaked, she wrapped it in a white nylon bag along with the leftover sugar, turned softly, and whispered, "I will be back, my Inna."

With a nod, she stepped out and took the main lane leading directly to the secondhand clothes (gwarjono) section. Arriving there, she paused while the vendor finished a transaction with some women.

As he finished, he turned, cast a contemptuous look at her, and said mockingly, "Hey, Mallama, what is it again?"

Nuriyah lowered her head, filled with apprehension and fear that she might have upset him and that he wouldn't let her take secondhand clothes to hawk. Politely, she said, "I just came to collect goods for hawking."

He swept her with a dismissive gaze and said, "Look here, servant of God, just get up and move along because you know I don't like trouble. Just sitting here... I didn't even know about the contagious disease afflicting your grandmother, or I wouldn't have helped you in the first place! Frankly, I won't take the risk of spreading your grandmother's sickness here—as if you aren't infected yourself! So don't let me catch your feet around this place ever again unless you are coming to buy clothes. Besides, poverty has blinded you; you aren't capable of buying secondhand clothes anyway. So let's just part ways!"

While he spoke, her eyes were locked on him, her heart boiling with rage. She stared at him through her niqab. Then she shook her head, stood up, and wiped away her tears. Her head throbbed fiercely. She couldn't understand humanity: Are human beings really like this? Are Muslims truly like this? She swore to herself that the people she knew didn't mock Inna's illness. What was wrong with some people? Now, even the little food they managed to earn honestly had to be sabotaged? If she lost her means of livelihood, where would she turn? What would she do about Inna's stomach, especially since Inna urgently required food given her frail physical condition?

Softly, she looked up and whispered, "O Allah, the Unmatchable, the One who never fails, You know my situation better than anyone; You know me better than I know myself. O Allah, cool my heart and extinguish the fire trying to rise in my head."

Without losing hope, she went to the cap-beaters' lane, where she found an elderly man making local caps. She knelt all the way to the ground and greeted him.

Pausing his work, he returned her greeting and looked at her inquiringly.

Softly, she said, "Please, Baba, I am seeking help. Please give me work to do—even if it's pouring the water used for beating these caps, washing caps, or going out to sell them."

He stared at her. Her entire body was covered in black garments, hiding even her palms. Despite the blazing heat, everything was completely covered, making it impossible to gauge her age—though her voice sounded young. Yet, she was asking for manual labor typically done by men. He shook his head. He knew poverty alone must have driven her to this. She had to be one of two things: either she was a thief, or she truly feared God, because very few young girls nowadays—no matter how poor—engaged in honest NEMAN NA KAINA (self-sustainability); instead, they took alternative, illicit routes believing it to be a hustle too. This made him slightly cautious about her situation. He said, "Servant of God, you are a woman. What kind of work can I give you here? Look, for washing caps, when we hire people, whether a cap is filthy or clean, we pay thirty naira per cap because we also have to eat from the proceeds. On days when there aren't many caps, you won't make much."

Nuriyah replied, "Even if I leave with just thirty naira, Alhamdulillah. Please, Baba, help me with this work, because I must earn NEMAN NA KAINA—I am solely responsible for feeding my Inna."

Filled with profound pity for her, he told her to return the next morning at dawn to start work, since morning sunlight was best for drying them.

Overjoyed, she knelt to the ground in gratitude, turned, and headed toward the hotel where she occasionally did dishwashing in exchange for leftover food scraps saved by customers.

After finishing, she walked home carrying a bundle of leftover food, as a large surplus had been gathered that day. Arriving, she pulled out the torn sack she used as a mat, rinsed it with water, spread it out, and emptied the food. She glanced at Inna, who was smiling at the sight of the abundant food they had secured. Nuriyah set aside a portion for them to eat and said, "Inna, let me go buy Omo so I can wash our clothes. Look how dirty they are."

Inna closed her eyes slowly in agreement. Nuriyah turned and went out to buy twenty naira worth of detergent to wash their clothes.

As she returned, she encountered Saratu's family members. The moment they saw her, they began shouting: "Woman who roams the markets, vagabond, shop-hopper, sheep, woman seeking money, thief, granddaughter of an AIDS patient, walking corpse!"

Nuriyah quickened her pace to reach home and wash their clothes, for she was already accustomed to the insults hurled at her by these heartless people.

Entering the house, she grabbed their small washing basin, drew water, poured it in, and began soaking Inna’s wrapper and clothes, washing them without turning back to speak to Inna, lest Inna realize the emotional turmoil she was enduring.

Just as she turned around to hang Inna's wrapper, she looked up and froze: Inna was lying completely rigid, her eyes fixed and wide open, her mouth slightly agape. Inna was clearly not breathing! Not realizing what she was doing, Nuriyah dropped the laundry and ran frantically toward Inna, screaming "Inna! Inna!" with a terrifying, agonizing shriek...

(A cliffhanger note from the author asks if Inna has passed away, if Inna is truly her grandmother, and where their relatives are).

Nuriyah approached fearfully and stealthily, touched Inna, and with trembling lips said, "Inna, Inna, are you alright? Inna, is it your health?"

Inna made no movement at all, which terrified her further. She bolted out of the house, running until she reached the doorway of a modest concrete building. As she arrived to push open the gate, a small car pulled up right in front of the house, causing her to pause with her body shaking.

The occupant stepped out—an elderly man in his late forties. Seeing her, he scowled, pulled a deep hiss, stepped closer, and said, "Hey, what's wrong with you? What brought you to my house? What are you looking for here?"

Nuriyah hunched her shoulders, sobbing heavily from exhaustion, and said, "Aba, my Inna is not moving. Please come and help me, Aba, Inna has gone rigid and isn't moving."

He hissed loudly and said, "So what? Because she's not moving? With all her old age, she went and dug up trouble for herself, didn't she? What kind of movement do you expect her to make? The end of people with her kind of disease is always disgrace before ending up in the earth, not even worth a dog's meat! That's just bitterness. I'm sitting peacefully with my family, and you come here to stir up trouble. Listen to me, you child of your father, even if she dies, so what? Is she the first person to die? Get out of my sight and go look for the scoundrel who infected her with this disaster so he can bury her! If he beat you to the grave, you're a human being too—just go dig a hole and bury yourself right after her! Because I won't spend a single kobo to provide burial shrouds for some useless old woman!"

Having finished saying this, he turned back to his car, abandoned his plan to enter his house, and drove away from the neighborhood.

She collapsed right there, squeezed her eyes shut, placed her hands on her head, and wept torrentially as tears chased one another down her face.

Then she heard a noble, gentle voice greeting her with Islamic peace. She lifted her head and locked eyes with a dignified elderly man holding prayer beads, dressed in a pristine white jalabiya, clearly on his way to the mosque.

Softly, he asked, "Young lady, are you alright? What happened to make you sit here crying?"

With a broken heart, Nuriyah replied, "I have lost my support. My Inna has passed away; she is lying lifeless at home."

Filled with profound pity, he lowered his gaze and said, "Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un. Every soul shall taste death. Keep repeating the remembrance of Allah, my daughter. And stop saying you have no support, for your ultimate support is Allah. Know that He loved her more, which is why He took her back. Pray for a blessed resting place for her. But tell me, young lady, where is your father?"

Nuriyah burst into fresh tears and said, "I don't have one. In fact, I have no one left except her. I don't even know what I will do with her corpse; I have nothing except Allah. The money I have left is fifteen naira from my labor. We have no one else in this world."

By this time, the pious man was deeply shaken. He endured his emotion and said, "Stand up, let us go find some servants of Allah so they can come and give her proper burial rites. Keep reciting the remembrance of Allah; He will soothe your life."

She stood up, followed behind him as he directed her, and before long they reached the doorway of the house. Even before arriving, he had called upon some people and solicited their help for this act of charity.

By the grace of Allah, people immediately began to gather. Elderly women of the neighborhood entered the house just as the shroud (likafani) was brought. They washed her, dressed her, while shedding tears of pity for themselves—realizing that everyone’s turn would eventually come, a stark reminder of nafsi nafsi (every man for himself).

Nuriyah sat watching as the men carried her Inna, placed her in the back of a dust-covered pick-up truck, and drove away with her. From that moment on, she lost consciousness of her surroundings, only waking up to find herself lying on a hospital bed with an intravenous drip attached to her hand.

A doctor pushed open the door and entered, followed by a young man. It was then that she lifted her gaze and saw a dignified elderly woman whom she was seeing for the first time.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the doctor stated, "She does not have HIV/AIDS. What is ailing her body is extreme lack of rest, psychological trauma, and mosquito-borne illness. These factors combined to break her down. However, this enforced rest of nearly six days has alleviated some of the trauma-related symptoms, because previously, whenever her eyes were open, her chest would pound rapidly."

She interrupted their conversation as realization hit her: wasn't her Inna dead? Could it be that she had only been dreaming? Surely, Inna hadn't been dead for six days! But the shocking question was: Who were these people? What were they looking for here? With the weak voice of a patient, she asked, "Where is my Inna? And who are you people? What are you looking for here?"

They turned toward each other, and the elderly woman stepped slightly away from the bed, staring at her without uttering a single word.

Slowly, the young man stepped closer to the bed where she lay and asked, "Are you awake?"

Nuriyah could not speak, and frustration overwhelmed her once again as she drifted off weakly.

The doctor finished explaining to them and turned to leave.

As he stepped out, the elderly woman said, "Mubarak, don't you dare step close to that girl! Didn't you hear what caused her grandmother's death? I don't trust this doctor at all; he looks like a trickster trying to saddle us with trouble and bring it into our home! If it was charity we wanted, we helped her as much as we could, so just take me back home and go back to work before she causes you to be fired. You know we depend entirely on that job of yours!"

Mubarak stood hesitating, listening to his mother. Finally, he sighed and said, "Mama, at least remove that face covering so she can breathe properly. You see, I am a man and not a muharram to her, but you are a woman, so it's not an issue. Besides, there’s nothing you will catch—you heard what the doctor said."

She shot him a glare and said, "Listen to Mr. Knowledgeable over here! Someone with more religious knowledge than anyone's father! Your father-like tendencies won't make me follow you guys into dragging me down and abandoning me! So I am ordering you to get out of here right now before I utter something terrible regarding you, Mubarak!"

Hearing this, his attention snapping entirely back to Nuriyah, Mubarak turned and followed his mother to obey her command...

2. Summary

The narrative follows Nuriyah, an 18-year-old girl living in extreme poverty in Northern Nigeria, who tirelessly labors (Neman Na Kaina—earning by her own sweat) to support her sickly, elderly grandmother, Inna, who suffers from a debilitating and stigmatized illness.

• The Daily Struggle: Nuriyah hawks fruit at traffic junctions, faces harsh verbal abuse from neighbors and toxic vendors (like Bala), and takes on grueling manual labor (like washing caps) to make ends meet. Despite the abuse, she remains deeply devoted to caring for Inna, feeding her, and shielding her from cruel gossip.
• Tragedy Strikes: While Nuriyah is out trying to make an honest living, Inna passes away. When Nuriyah approaches a callous relative (Aba) for help, she is cruelly turned away and insulted. A kind, pious stranger steps in to arrange a basic burial, but the emotional and physical shock causes Nuriyah to collapse and faint.
• Hospitalization and Isolation: Nuriyah wakes up in a hospital, having been unconscious for six days. She learns she does not have AIDS (contrary to rumors spread by malicious neighbors), but is suffering from exhaustion and trauma. Meanwhile, the mother of the young man (Mubarak) who brought her to the hospital displays cold prejudice, warning her son to stay away out of fear of contagion, underscoring the pervasive stigma and isolation Nuriyah faces.

3. Character Descriptions

• Nuriyah: The protagonist. An 18-year-old girl defined by resilience, profound filial piety, and an unyielding commitment to earning an honest living (Neman Na Kaina). Despite being surrounded by cruelty, poverty, and stigma, she maintains her dignity and faith.
• Inna: Nuriyah’s frail, elderly grandmother. Suffering from an unspecified debilitating illness and physical decay, she is entirely dependent on Nuriyah and acts as the emotional anchor of Nuriyah's existence.
• Bala: A bitter, misogynistic fellow vendor who resents Nuriyah's relentless hustle and mocks her for working among men while caring for an ailing relative.
• Aba: A harsh, wealthy relative who heartlessly turns Nuriyah away when Inna dies, epitomizing familial selfishness and callousness.
• The Pious Elderly Man: A compassionate stranger who steps in to ensure Inna receives a proper burial, offering Nuriyah spiritual comfort when she is completely abandoned.
• Mubarak & His Mother: Mubarak is a helpful young man who assists in bringing Nuriyah to the hospital, while his mother represents societal stigma, paranoia, and cold-hearted prejudice against the vulnerable.

4. Literary Analytics

• Thematic Core of Neman Na Kaina (Self-Reliance): The narrative title and core motif center on dignity through labor. Nuriyah constantly chooses grueling, honest work over compromising her morals, contrasting sharply with a society that judges, stigmatizes, and exploits the vulnerable.
• Stigma and Social Apathy: The author employs stark realism to highlight societal cruelty. From neighbors labeling Inna with stigmatized illnesses to relatives refusing to fund a burial, the text critiques how poverty and illness strip individuals of basic human empathy in modern communal spaces.
• Sensory and Emotional Contrast: The narrative effectively contrasts physical degradation (Inna's incontinence and coughing fits, the blazing sun at the traffic junction, the dust-covered truck) with Nuriyah's inner purity, gentleness, and quiet spiritual resilience (manifested in her constant supplications to Allah).

Extended Summary

The narrative unfolds through the lens of Nuriyah, an eighteen-year-old girl whose youth has been entirely consumed by the grueling realities of poverty and caregiving. The opening scenes plunge the reader straight into the chaotic, sun-scorched atmosphere of a northern Nigerian traffic junction (danja), where destitute hawkers fight for scraps of sales. Nuriyah navigates this environment with a quiet, steely determination, selling fruit under the blazing sun not out of greed, but out of absolute necessity.

Back in their dilapidated mud-brick dwelling, her life is anchored entirely by Inna, her elderly, chronically ill grandmother. Inna's condition—frail, incontinent, coughing constantly, and suffering from a heavily stigmatized illness (whispered to be AIDS by cruel neighbors)—makes her an outcast. Yet Nuriyah treats her with infinite tenderness, feeding her, washing her soiled garments, and shielding her from the venomous mockery of neighborhood gossips like Saratu's family and the bitter vendor Bala.

When Inna quietly passes away, Nuriyah’s world shatters. Her desperate plea for help is met with visceral cruelty by her relative Aba, who refuses to spend a single kobo on burial shrouds. Salvation arrives only in the form of a compassionate, pious stranger who organizes a proper Islamic burial. The sheer cumulative weight of physical exhaustion, grief, and emotional trauma causes Nuriyah to collapse into a six-day coma.

When she awakens in a hospital bed, she discovers she has been saved medically, but socially she remains trapped in a hostile world. The doctor clears her of having the disease, yet Mubarak’s mother exhibits cold paranoia, warning her son away from Nuriyah out of deep-seated prejudice and fear. The story leaves Nuriyah suspended between grief, physical recovery, and the enduring isolation of an unforgiving society.

Detailed Character Profiles

• Nuriyah (The Protagonist):
  • Role: Primary caregiver, provider, and moral core of the narrative.
  • Traits: Resilient, deeply pious, enduring, and remarkably self-sacrificing.
  • Significance: She embodies the concept of Neman Na Kaina (earning by the sweat of one's brow). Unlike those who compromise their dignity for quick gains, Nuriyah chooses heavy fruit-hawking, cap-washing, and dishwashing. Her character critiques a judgmental society that punishes the poor while offering no safety net.
• Inna (The Grandmother):
  • Role: The emotional anchor and catalyst for Nuriyah’s actions.
  • Traits: Frail, dependent, regretful of being a burden, and deeply affectionate toward Nuriyah.
  • Significance: Inna represents society's forgotten and discarded elderly. Her debilitating illness acts as the focal point for the stigma, cruelty, and isolation that she and Nuriyah face from their community.
• Bala (The Cynical Vendor):
  • Role: Foil to Nuriyah’s honesty; voice of peer resentment.
  • Traits: Bittersweet, resentful, hyper-competitive, and verbally abusive.
  • Significance: Bala highlights the hyper-competitive, dog-eat-dog survivalism of informal street economies where empathy is eroded by daily desperation.
• Aba (The Callous Relative):
  • Role: Representative of familial abandonment.
  • Traits: Callous, selfish, wealthy yet miserly regarding family duties.
  • Significance: Aba exposes the hypocrisy of extended family structures where social image supersedes moral and blood obligations toward the vulnerable.
• Mubarak and His Mother:
  • Role: Agents of institutional/medical intervention balanced against societal prejudice.
  • Traits: Mubarak is dutiful and sympathetic; his mother is reactionary, paranoid, and fiercely bound by social stigma.
  • Significance: Their dynamic captures the modern tension between traditional humanitarian instincts (wanting to help the sick) and modern biological fear and class prejudice.

Comprehensive Literary & Thematic Analytics

1. Thematic Exploration of Neman Na Kaina (Self-Reliance and Dignity)

The phrase Neman Na Kaina functions as a moral shield for Nuriyah. In a world where poverty frequently pushes young women into precarious survival strategies, Nuriyah’s fierce commitment to honest labor elevates her character. Her sweat, physical exhaustion, and calloused hands are badges of honor. The author uses this theme to critique an economic landscape where ordinary people must degrade themselves under scorching suns just to secure a basic meal, contrasting this with the wealthy who hoard resources and lack basic empathy.

2. The Architecture of Social Stigma and Apathy

The narrative serves as an unflinching social critique of how illness and poverty interact within communal spaces:

• The Weaponization of Disease: Inna’s illness is weaponized by neighbors (Saratu’s family) and vendors (the second-hand clothes seller) not just as a health concern, but as a moral failing. The community uses rumors of contagion to justify complete emotional detachment and ostracization.
• The Collapse of Communal Solidarity: Traditional African/Islamic communal structures (such as neighbors looking out for one another) are depicted as fractured. Instead of a village raising or protecting an orphan, Nuriyah’s neighborhood functions as an echo chamber of insults, exploitation, and abandonment.

3. Spatial Symbolism

• The Traffic Junction (Danja): Represents the frantic, mechanical pace of survival. It is loud, impersonal, and hostile, mirroring the economic rat race that forces the destitute to hustle aggressively.
• The Mud-Brick Shack vs. Concrete Buildings: The dilapidated mud-brick structure acts as a sanctuary of pure affection between Nuriyah and Inna, contrasted sharply against Aba’s gated concrete house, which symbolizes cold, unyielding wealth and gated selfishness.
• The Hospital Room: A liminal space of institutional neutrality where physical healing occurs, yet psychological and social barriers (represented by Mubarak's mother) persist.

4. Stylistic Devices and Narrative Tone

• Pathos and Realism: The author utilizes visceral sensory details—Inna's missing teeth and raspy cough, the heavy stench of urine managed quietly in the night, the blazing heat of the traffic light, and the sting of hurled insults—to evoke deep empathy.
• Juxtaposition of Innocence and Cruelty: The extreme gentleness of Nuriyah wiping her grandmother’s face or whispering prayers is constantly interrupted by the harsh, violent shouts of the outside world, creating a poignant narrative tension that keeps the reader emotionally invested.