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Released15, Aug 2026

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English Translation

"A person's true character is revealed by their actions," as the Hausa proverb goes. Many women lose their way in pursuit of their desires, willing to do whatever it takes to possess what they want, by any means necessary. Every woman wants her existence to be acknowledged out there, to hold status and authority in her home. This reason drives women down different paths to fulfill their goals—the lawful path and the forbidden one. The story of Aabidah and Aabid brings us a new style of marital governance that is intensely astonishing, surprising, breathtaking, and even exasperating. Follow along to see how these spouses navigate their lives...

The weather was so intensely hot that people felt as if they were catching fire, and the rain had not fallen early enough to provide any relief. At that exact moment, Mahreen was lying on her modest bed, sweating profusely and whining tearfully to Yah Maheer, having no idea where to turn for comfort. Yah Maheer, on the other hand, was tirelessly fanning her with deep care, consoling her like a little child until his arms ached agonizingly from pure exhaustion. He looked at Mahreen, who was beginning to drift off to sleep, stroked her cheek with a smile, and said:

"Such a drama queen."

He gently set the fan aside to lie down, but she stirred and grumbled as if she weren't falling asleep at all. Yah Maheer ignored her and lay down to rest, knowing he could not keep up with Mahreen's endless drama. Scarcely had he settled when their front gate was banged with such incredible force that it jerked Mahreen right out of her light sleep. Startled, she sat up, darting her eyes between the doorway and Yah Maheer's face, which bore an expression of utter astonishment. The gate was banged again as if someone intended to break it down. Quickly, Mahreen scrambled close to Yah Maheer, her body trembling, and grabbed her phone from beside him to turn on its flashlight for better illumination than the tiny rechargeable lamp glowing in the room. Yah Maheer stepped down from their bed, put on his shirt and long trousers, and handed Mahreen her large hijab and wrapper to throw over her nightwear. He signaled with his hand for her not to worry, saying he would go check who it was, since such late-night visits had happened before. She shook her head and wanted to cry. Changing times and prevailing insecurities threw her back into fear and speculation over who could be pounding on their gate at this dead of night. Without paying heed to her protests, Yah Maheer opened the bedroom door and stepped into their modest parlor equipped with modern amenities. As he entered, the gate was banged once more with eagerness. He quickly strode over, unlocked the parlor door, stepped out into the courtyard, and called out:

"Who is it?"

"Malam Maheer, open up, it's me, Aabid."

Yah Maheer rushed to the gate and struggled to open it, saying:

"Aabid, you again? What happened this time?"

He heard Aabid making a low, groaning sound like a sick person. Hurriedly, he finished opening the gate and caught Aabid, who was shivering violently from the intense cold. Glancing down at Aabid's feet, he saw they were bare—not even blessed with a pair of sandals—proving that he had walked all the way from his house on foot. When Yah Maheer touched Aabid, his body felt blazing hot like fire. Quickly grabbing him, they entered the house, locked the door behind them, and went inside. He seated Aabid in the parlor and went to inform Mahreen of what was happening. Instantly, the fear that had filled her heart vanished, replaced by pity and sorrow, while longing and affection flooded her soul. She quickly climbed down from the bed and followed Maheer back to the parlor carrying a blanket and a pillow, knowing Aabid's nature wouldn't let him lie down in a bedroom. Upon arriving, Maheer handed Aabid the pillow to prop up his head and used the blanket to cover him. Aabid felt as though he were burning up from distress, gripped by a severe, agonizing fever. In a delirium of illness, he muttered:

"You made me a promise and failed to keep it, Baby. You promised me forever, not just for a few years. You promised me my love, please don't leave me."

Mahreen rested her chin in her hands, watching Aabid as tears streamed down her face out of pure sympathy. She stood up, went to their kitchen, mixed custard for him, poured in milk and sugar, and tossed in groundnuts just the way he liked it. Then she grabbed a bottle of pure water and placed it on a small tray alongside paracetamol. Returning to the parlor, she took Aabid's hand and said:

"Yah Aabid, wake up and take your medicine, please, so the fever might go down, you hear?"

Hearing Mahreen's voice caused Aabid to break down into a heavy sob, clutching her hand and shaking violently. Swiftly, Yah Maheer stepped in front of him, placed a hand on him, and recited:

"Hasbunallahu wa ni'imal wakil... Lahaula wala quwwata illa billah."

Yah Maheer repeated these prayers until Aabid eventually joined in. With great difficulty, his mind settled enough for him to accept the custard, drink a little, chase it with paracetamol, and lie back down. They sat in silence for a long while before hearing Aabid's breathing slow down. Even in his sleep, he mumbled:

"You promised me forever baby, please don't leave me."

They returned to the bedroom, Mahreen wiping away tears of pity for her older brother whose life had been reduced to a pathetic state. He was their primary pillar of support—hers and their mother's. Yet, the misfortune of a bad wife had caused his life to collapse, reducing him to the state of a small child constantly craving his parents' attention to avoid falling into total ruin or losing his life altogether. Weeping, Mahreen looked at her Yah Maheer and said:

"In Sha Allah, Aabida will never get the chance to repent for the evil deeds she has committed before she returns to her Creator. I would be utterly devastated if someone with her character were to receive the Mercy of Allah, even for the blink of an eye."

"Innalillahi wa inna'ilaihirraji'un! Goodness, Mahreen, what kind of wicked wish are you making for your own sister? Don't you forget that all of us seek Allah's Mercy in this world until the Day of Judgment? Why would you pray for her to die with such massive sins upon her shoulders? I never expected this from you, Mahreen; you've disappointed and embarrassed me."

Mahreen wiped her tears, looked at the husband she deeply loved and cherished, and said:

"If praying for this WICKED WOMAN is what brings you embarrassment and disappointment, then I accept that you will be embarrassed of me for the rest of our lives! Have you forgotten who Aabida is, or should I remind you? Aabida is the reason our family shattered; Aabida is the reason our mother lies bedridden sick to this day—and I am certain she will pass away from this illness; Aabida is the one who tore me away from my brother for so many years; Aabida is the one who..."

Quickly, Yah Maheer embraced Mahreen, patted her back, and said:

"That's enough. I'm sorry if my words upset you. Let's go to sleep too, so we can catch the Fajr prayer on time."

Without a word, she allowed him to lead her back to their room. Along the way, she kept glancing back at her brother, whom she had spent so long without sitting near until she lost sight of him. Yah Maheer tucked her into bed and turned off their light to save the remaining battery charge until dawn, since electricity was scarce and only came on during the day. Furthermore, the generator's fuel had run out—something Yah Maheer only discovered when he went to start it, and being exhausted, he dreaded going out again to buy petrol. Barely had they settled into bed when they heard the parlor door open and slam shut violently. Maheer instantly rose to go check, but Mahreen held him back, shedding tears as she said:

"Leave him be. You know if he doesn't go back, he'll drive us crazy here. Just pray that Allah returns him safely home."

"I know. I wasn't going to stop him anyway; I'm going to drive him home myself. Look at how dusty his feet are, proving he came here on foot, without even the grace of sandals."

She gave a painful smile, laid her head back down, and continued weeping tears of pity for her brother. In a rush, Yah Maheer grabbed his car keys and followed after Aabid, who was walking on foot with no shoes, carrying only his handbag. With much effort, Yah Maheer persuaded Aabid to get into the car, and they drove off to Sallari where his house was located. Upon arrival, Yah Maheer stopped the car, and Aabid stepped out clutching his bag under his arm. He unlocked his main house gate with a key and walked inside. He found the night watchman wide-eyed with his baton in hand; seeing it was Aabid himself, the guard hastily hid his baton behind his back and greeted him a safe return. Aabid didn't even acknowledge him, walking straight into the house. Only after hearing the house doors lock did Yah Maheer check his car clock, seeing it was past quarter past three in the morning. He started his car and drove back home, listening to the Quran recitation playing softly from the car audio.

Aabid.

Entering the house, he found it completely dark as if no one lived there, save for the hum of the AC and the fridge, and the dim glow of small indicator lights. Straight away, he went upstairs to her room, still clutching the bag he hadn't put down all night. Entering, he found her lying face-down on the bed, happily tapping away on her phone and chatting with a tranquil mind. Aabid sank to his knees, weeping like a small child as he said:

"Please, Baby, forgive me. I agree to do anything you want, but please don't leave me. If you leave me, I will die."

He finished his sentence and broke down in intense sobbing. For a long time, she continued typing happily on her phone before turning on the dim light and placing her phone face down. Slowly, a beautiful fair woman of no more than thirty-one years old stepped down from the bed, tossing her head with attitude. Looking down disdainfully at Aabid, who was kneeling before her weeping, she said:

"So you finally drank the bitter pill you pounded, Aabii? I thought you could spend the night elsewhere just because I asked for something insignificant from you. So all your promises were lies? So you couldn't do it and gave up? Well, I want you to write my divorce papers right now this night so I can go back home and resume the life I was used to before I met you. That will bring me more peace of mind than living with a man who lies about loving me."

Crawling on his knees, Aabid reached Aabida, grabbed her ankles, and pressed his face against them, crying as if he might pass out. With great effort, he raised his head, looked into her eyes, and said:

"I agree to do everything you want, as long as you don't leave me ever again."

Aabida sneered at Aabid before turning her back on him, crossing her arms over her chest, and saying:

"I don't trust you, because I know your soft nature too well; you likely won't fulfill my desire. So let's just split up, Aabid, and let me go marry someone who will..."

Quickly, Aabid pulled her into his arms, embraced her, and wept while repeating:

"I am making you a promise for the umpteenth time, Aabida. I will fulfill every single desire of yours in life, even if it costs me my life."

A breathtaking smile crossed Aabida's face, for she was certain that this time she would achieve the heart's desire she had long craved. Thus, she embraced Aabid, moving in a manner that caused him to let out a deep, swift sigh of relief. Happily, they lay down until the call to Fajr prayer echoed from all the neighborhood mosques. Aabid never woke up to pray on time. They didn't wake up until full daylight, when Aabid jolted awake, rushed to their bathroom to bathe and purify himself, and came out to dress. He made up for the missed Fajr prayer, then looked toward the bed where Aabida was still tossing and turning as if she were just beginning to enjoy her sleep. He tucked the blanket back over her, feeling her love seep into every pore of his skin. He headed to the kitchen, prepared food for her, and arranged it on the dining table as he always did, hastily eating his own portion while his heart hammered with agonizing anxiety and fear of how he would face his Hajiya (mother) that day. With difficulty, he forced down the fried potatoes, washed them down with tea, took his car keys, and left the house filled with dread and intense distress.

MUGUWAR MACE (The Wicked Woman) By: HAMIDAH SANUSI AHMAD HAERMEEEBRAERH ✨✍️

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Summary of the Excerpt

This Hausa fiction excerpt introduces a dramatic family dynamic centered around Aabid, Aabida, Mahreen, and Yah Maheer.

  • The Conflict: Aabid is trapped in a toxic, manipulative marriage with Aabida, a demanding woman who wields emotional control over him to the point of reducing him to desperate, humiliating acts of devotion.
  • The Background: Aabid's subservience to Aabida has alienated him from his own family, plunging his mother (Hajiya) and sister (Mahreen) into financial and emotional destitution, while Aabida remains unapologetically indifferent. Mahreen harbors deep resentment toward Aabida for destroying their family.
  • The Escalation: Driven by desperation to satisfy Aabida's relentless demands and keep her from leaving him, a broken Aabid resorts to shady financial dealings. He visits an old contact, Malam Sallau, and arranges a questionable transaction with Alhaji Kabiru Mai Tumbin Nera, compromising his own dignity and future to fund Aabida's desires, all while his mother and sister struggle in poverty.

Description of Analytics

Based on the narrative structure, thematic elements, and linguistic presentation of the text, here is an analytical breakdown:

1. Thematic Analysis

  • Toxic Codependency: The relationship between Aabid and Aabida highlights extreme psychological manipulation, where emotional dependency overrides self-respect.
  • Family Loyalty vs. Obsessive Love: The narrative sharply contrasts Aabid's self-destructive devotion to an undeserving wife against the suffering of his neglected biological family (his mother and sister).
  • The Consequences of Greed: Aabida’s materialistic demands directly push Aabid into illicit or questionable financial shortcuts (involving Malam Sallau and Alhaji Kabiru), driving home a critique of societal pressure and materialism.

2. Character Dynamics

  • Aabid: Characterized as a tragic figure—financially capable yet emotionally enslaved, swinging between panic, despair, and blind obedience.
  • Aabida: Portrayed as the archetype of the manipulative, cold-hearted spouse who leverages emotional blackmail to bend her partner to her will.
  • Mahreen & Yah Maheer: Represent the voice of reason, empathy, and realism within the story, acting as the stabilizing household counter-weight to Aabid's chaos.

3. Literary and Stylistic Devices

  • Sensory and Emotional Imagery: The author uses intense physical descriptions—such as the scorching heat, the burning fever, Aabid's bare feet covered in dust, and his tearful crawling—to emphasize emotional pain and physical exhaustion.
  • Pacing and Tension: The narrative shifts abruptly between scenes of domestic tranquility (Mahreen and Yah Maheer) and high-stress crisis (Aabid's midnight breakdowns and shady dealings), keeping the reader engaged.
  • Cultural Integration: Seamlessly incorporates Hausa idioms ("Tsafi gaskiyar me shi", cultural greetings, domestic habits like making custard or tea, and neighborhood dynamics) to anchor the story authentically in its regional setting.

 

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