Abdulmajeed is now in Nigeria — he finished his service and is going to Jos. In Jos there is someone you know; he has no relatives there. Right now he’s arguing with his mother because she’s the one speaking. She didn’t lift a finger — he was just holding his Lipton and sipping calmly. His face showed a kind of quiet, bare look, not dark and not pale; there was a calm light about him. He left it at that; his face looked even more handsome because of the shape of his nose as he sat quietly. She finished speaking before he raised his eyes — not big eyes, not small — and said, “Mother, you know I told you long ago I want to go to Jos to do my service because of how some of my friends are talking about the weather there. How many nights is the service, please settle it with Abba.” I swear he will agree — you’ll see I won’t be long, I’ll only be doing my service. “Okay, fine. May God grant it,” she said. “You know he doesn’t want you to go far from him because Abdulkareem would lose some of his pride today. Mother, that’s why I truly love you…”
“You scold people?” she replied. “A person like you — always you keep one thing to yourself.” “Today is the fifth month of our marriage, yet he still doesn’t realize I don’t like him,” she continued. “You were right to do as I told you.” I teased him until he left in confusion, then I followed him — I didn’t slam the gate or anything, you didn’t open it. I could feel his leaving; may God keep him safe — may he not have an accident. Daddy is waiting for me; I’ll come out and we’ll get married. But this madman, everything I do for him is treated as if it’s for his pleasure, as if he’s addicted. From there they exchanged greetings and she turned off the phone, trying to sleep; a heavy rain was falling.
He ran to his car as if it might take off — that frightened Fiddausi, who thought you were going to take her somewhere and follow some other road. “Please, I will take care of you,” he said, but her eyes turned red as if she were about to cry. She pounded on the car door — she didn’t know how to get into the car — she kept shouting but no one saw or heard her because of the darkness and the heavy rain. She walked quickly, thinking only of her husband’s words and what had been done to her; nothing else was on her mind. Fortunately she found a place like a courtyard where people were parking. Someone got out and opened the door; she tried to run but he grabbed her — not letting the rain stop him — he held her like a pillar, lifting and securing her with the strength of his body. She screamed and begged him, but he didn’t respond except by calling on her mother’s name and God — she couldn’t do anything else. She seemed lifeless, as if struck by a new cruel affliction; she couldn’t move, only sobbed softly. After preparing himself, he made her change clothes, then turned and left, telling her to go out. He drove off, but even then his mind was not at peace: “Today I will do the unthinkable,” he told himself. “May God forgive me — I’ve been with two women today, one made me do this; I am helpless.” He went on; none of us could know what he would do.
{The more we shine bright the more we educate and enlighten our readers.}
🌧🌧🌧🌧🌧🌧🌧
A RUWAN SAMA ( FATE MADE ME )
🌧🌧🌧🌧🌧🌧🌧
PAGE…… 5–6
BY NANAH KHADII 💅🽠ðŸ›
BISMILLAHIR-RAHMANIN RAHEEM
Garba Bello — Fiddausi’s father — a man from Maiduguri of the traveling Fulani, they said he once came to Jos. May God have mercy on his father; his passing caused him to carry on in trade in Jos. But the true Fulani are stubborn; they don’t do the kind of work they did for secrecy. God united him with Fiddausi’s mother, Maimuna (called Inna). She sold food in the market and faced hardship; when she was six years old her mother died. God took her mother; later her father married two more wives and, showing favoritism, they mistreated her. They interfered between her and her father and didn’t even look at her. Her father was a crafty man with secret practices. Her mother was from Kano and, due to business, she married and moved to the town. Her relatives did not visit; her father refused to arrange a family marriage or connections even though he had money. With heavy heart, God took her mother and she stopped going to the town entirely.
From childhood, the mother would cry and fall into prayer because of everything against her. Hajiya Ikilima and Ameer intervened and raised concern; Ameer paid attention to the girl and her condition, convincing the father to allow her to attend the expensive school he wanted for her, but God did not make it happen. Ameer is the eldest of Hajiya Ikilima’s children and has a close relationship with Inna. He treated them like family and always consoled them; that care made her like one of Hajiya Ikilima’s daughters. The men — Sadeeq, Umar, Ahmad, Auwal — and her husband had not married again; they lived peacefully and with secrecy. Sadeeq works with a family business; Umar is in the military; the others were still studying. Ameer would always patrol the area for her; he had nowhere he wouldn’t go for her, but inside him there was a painful silence as if something was tearing him apart.
At night he made up his mind and went to the police station to report. Hamza barely managed to take her — when he entered he found her in the parlor. She said he should return the next day and bring the leader of where he was going; when he looked at her he couldn’t stop thinking about the girl. What he did that day — since his mother gave birth to him she had never committed adultery — led to pressure to marry his cousin. Now he is overwhelmed, he even cried before entering the toilet; when he came out he performed prayer, but his heart was not at peace as he kept thinking. He prayed until dawn and did not sleep. When she heard the call to prayer she forced herself up with great difficulty, as if she could hardly walk. As they left, a napep (tricycle) came out; she coughed once and told him the name of her neighborhood. He was frightened by her state, but he still forced her to sit as they drove. He asked where the gate of your home was; she said it was there. They parked at the exact spot where Inna and Ameer had arrived. Ameer rushed forward, seeing how she was shaking with the napep driver’s money; he left the money and helped her. Inna, seeing her, just cried and did nothing else. Ameer took her in and she poured hot bath water into a large pot — Ameer even shed tears. He didn’t ask what had happened; he couldn’t bear it. While Inna poured the water she cried; life had tested her. It was so hard for her daughter who had hopes, and for her own life — only God gives the strength to pass such trials. She burst into deep sobbing while watching Inna do nothing; that caused Ameer to stand and leave angrily, stepping out of the compound.
Hamza performed prayer, started his car, and returned to where he thought she might be, but she was not there. He followed, but she was nowhere — he had reasons he couldn’t explain.
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{The more we shine bright the more we educate and enlighten our readers}
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ARUWAN SAMA
(FATE MADE ME)
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PAGE….. 7–8
BY NANAH KHADII 💅🽠ðŸ›
BISMILLAHIR-RAHMANIN RAHEEM
Ameer left, returned, arranged things properly, and came back to the house just as Inna was pouring the bath water. The bath soothed her body a bit. Inna said she would go and file an official report and look for whoever committed this crime because she swore she would not leave it. “I saw the face of the one who did this — it is oppression,” she said. “He doesn’t think about children, relatives, or family.” This is the world we live in: everyone for themselves. Inna was deeply moved and cried; she had no strength to speak. Ameer said, “Yes, Inna, this is terrible. Let us give thanks and then we will pursue justice.” Feeling ashamed, he turned and left, saying he would go with her to the hospital if she wanted. She said she was ready. She came out with Fiddausi who was shivering in a sweater. Inna looked at her and, in a voice that showed she was full of pain and worry, asked where she got the sweater. Inna kept silent and said, “Can you see him yourself? Only you can go.” She refused the sweater. Inna opened the room where they kept things and threw the sweater in. Fiddausi tried to bathe well; apart from crying, they did nothing else. With great difficulty she calmed Inna and kept quiet.
Now Abdulmajeed — truly — you are going to Jos. “Father, so be it; may God make it easy and bless you.” Abba thanked her. Alh. Ahmad Manguno is Abdulmajeed’s father, born in Maiduguri. His parents — especially his father — are influential politicians; the whole town knows him. He married his wife Aseeya, a beautiful, religious woman, and they had children: Abdulkareem (the eldest), then Abdulmajeed, Abdulrahman, Abdulsamad, Abdulhameed, and a daughter Hauwa’u (called Jidda). The family is close and affectionate. His mother agreed to sell the farm and buy a house; she said she would not live in a rented place. She smiled and said, “May God grant success.” Today she is somewhere enjoying cool weather; she will leave Abuja for the pleasant climate — her father will help her find work there. “Why not go back there since you don’t want to stay with us?” his mother teased, reminding him of how he had always disliked being away from her. “Mother, sometime I will visit the cool place too,” he said, and they chatted as she gave him advice.
Description
On the way to Jos
Abdulmajeed is now in Nigeria — he finished his service and is going to Jos. In Jos there is someone you know; he has no relatives there. Right now he’s arguing with his mother because she’s the one speaking. She didn’t lift a finger — he was just holding his Lipton and sipping calmly. His face showed a kind of quiet, bare look, not dark and not pale; there was a calm light about him. He left it at that; his face looked even more handsome because of the shape of his nose as he sat quietly. She finished speaking before he raised his eyes — not big eyes, not small — and said, “Mother, you know I told you long ago I want to go to Jos to do my service because of how some of my friends are talking about the weather there. How many nights is the service, please settle it with Abba.” I swear he will agree — you’ll see I won’t be long, I’ll only be doing my service. “Okay, fine. May God grant it,” she said. “You know he doesn’t want you to go far from him because Abdulkareem would lose some of his pride today. Mother, that’s why I truly love you…”
“You scold people?” she replied. “A person like you — always you keep one thing to yourself.” “Today is the fifth month of our marriage, yet he still doesn’t realize I don’t like him,” she continued. “You were right to do as I told you.” I teased him until he left in confusion, then I followed him — I didn’t slam the gate or anything, you didn’t open it. I could feel his leaving; may God keep him safe — may he not have an accident. Daddy is waiting for me; I’ll come out and we’ll get married. But this madman, everything I do for him is treated as if it’s for his pleasure, as if he’s addicted. From there they exchanged greetings and she turned off the phone, trying to sleep; a heavy rain was falling.
He ran to his car as if it might take off — that frightened Fiddausi, who thought you were going to take her somewhere and follow some other road. “Please, I will take care of you,” he said, but her eyes turned red as if she were about to cry. She pounded on the car door — she didn’t know how to get into the car — she kept shouting but no one saw or heard her because of the darkness and the heavy rain. She walked quickly, thinking only of her husband’s words and what had been done to her; nothing else was on her mind. Fortunately she found a place like a courtyard where people were parking. Someone got out and opened the door; she tried to run but he grabbed her — not letting the rain stop him — he held her like a pillar, lifting and securing her with the strength of his body. She screamed and begged him, but he didn’t respond except by calling on her mother’s name and God — she couldn’t do anything else. She seemed lifeless, as if struck by a new cruel affliction; she couldn’t move, only sobbed softly. After preparing himself, he made her change clothes, then turned and left, telling her to go out. He drove off, but even then his mind was not at peace: “Today I will do the unthinkable,” he told himself. “May God forgive me — I’ve been with two women today, one made me do this; I am helpless.” He went on; none of us could know what he would do.
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â 💫 SHINING STARS WRITERS' ASSOCIATIONâ 💫
{The more we shine bright the more we educate and enlighten our readers.}
🌧🌧🌧🌧🌧🌧🌧
A RUWAN SAMA ( FATE MADE ME )
🌧🌧🌧🌧🌧🌧🌧
PAGE…… 5–6
BY NANAH KHADII 💅🽠ðŸ›
BISMILLAHIR-RAHMANIN RAHEEM
Garba Bello — Fiddausi’s father — a man from Maiduguri of the traveling Fulani, they said he once came to Jos. May God have mercy on his father; his passing caused him to carry on in trade in Jos. But the true Fulani are stubborn; they don’t do the kind of work they did for secrecy. God united him with Fiddausi’s mother, Maimuna (called Inna). She sold food in the market and faced hardship; when she was six years old her mother died. God took her mother; later her father married two more wives and, showing favoritism, they mistreated her. They interfered between her and her father and didn’t even look at her. Her father was a crafty man with secret practices. Her mother was from Kano and, due to business, she married and moved to the town. Her relatives did not visit; her father refused to arrange a family marriage or connections even though he had money. With heavy heart, God took her mother and she stopped going to the town entirely.
From childhood, the mother would cry and fall into prayer because of everything against her. Hajiya Ikilima and Ameer intervened and raised concern; Ameer paid attention to the girl and her condition, convincing the father to allow her to attend the expensive school he wanted for her, but God did not make it happen. Ameer is the eldest of Hajiya Ikilima’s children and has a close relationship with Inna. He treated them like family and always consoled them; that care made her like one of Hajiya Ikilima’s daughters. The men — Sadeeq, Umar, Ahmad, Auwal — and her husband had not married again; they lived peacefully and with secrecy. Sadeeq works with a family business; Umar is in the military; the others were still studying. Ameer would always patrol the area for her; he had nowhere he wouldn’t go for her, but inside him there was a painful silence as if something was tearing him apart.
At night he made up his mind and went to the police station to report. Hamza barely managed to take her — when he entered he found her in the parlor. She said he should return the next day and bring the leader of where he was going; when he looked at her he couldn’t stop thinking about the girl. What he did that day — since his mother gave birth to him she had never committed adultery — led to pressure to marry his cousin. Now he is overwhelmed, he even cried before entering the toilet; when he came out he performed prayer, but his heart was not at peace as he kept thinking. He prayed until dawn and did not sleep. When she heard the call to prayer she forced herself up with great difficulty, as if she could hardly walk. As they left, a napep (tricycle) came out; she coughed once and told him the name of her neighborhood. He was frightened by her state, but he still forced her to sit as they drove. He asked where the gate of your home was; she said it was there. They parked at the exact spot where Inna and Ameer had arrived. Ameer rushed forward, seeing how she was shaking with the napep driver’s money; he left the money and helped her. Inna, seeing her, just cried and did nothing else. Ameer took her in and she poured hot bath water into a large pot — Ameer even shed tears. He didn’t ask what had happened; he couldn’t bear it. While Inna poured the water she cried; life had tested her. It was so hard for her daughter who had hopes, and for her own life — only God gives the strength to pass such trials. She burst into deep sobbing while watching Inna do nothing; that caused Ameer to stand and leave angrily, stepping out of the compound.
Hamza performed prayer, started his car, and returned to where he thought she might be, but she was not there. He followed, but she was nowhere — he had reasons he couldn’t explain.
COMMENTS AND SHARE 08069224458
FANS OF MY BOOK, I LOVE YOU 🥰â¤ðŸ˜˜ðŸ˜
PLEASE NOTE I DIDN’T EDIT MUCH; YOU WILL SEE MANY MISTAKES.
â 💫 SHINING STARS WRITERS' ASSOCIATIONâ 💫
{The more we shine bright the more we educate and enlighten our readers}
🌧🌧🌧🌧🌧🌧🌧
ARUWAN SAMA
(FATE MADE ME)
🌧🌧🌧🌧🌧🌧🌧
PAGE….. 7–8
BY NANAH KHADII 💅🽠ðŸ›
BISMILLAHIR-RAHMANIN RAHEEM
Ameer left, returned, arranged things properly, and came back to the house just as Inna was pouring the bath water. The bath soothed her body a bit. Inna said she would go and file an official report and look for whoever committed this crime because she swore she would not leave it. “I saw the face of the one who did this — it is oppression,” she said. “He doesn’t think about children, relatives, or family.” This is the world we live in: everyone for themselves. Inna was deeply moved and cried; she had no strength to speak. Ameer said, “Yes, Inna, this is terrible. Let us give thanks and then we will pursue justice.” Feeling ashamed, he turned and left, saying he would go with her to the hospital if she wanted. She said she was ready. She came out with Fiddausi who was shivering in a sweater. Inna looked at her and, in a voice that showed she was full of pain and worry, asked where she got the sweater. Inna kept silent and said, “Can you see him yourself? Only you can go.” She refused the sweater. Inna opened the room where they kept things and threw the sweater in. Fiddausi tried to bathe well; apart from crying, they did nothing else. With great difficulty she calmed Inna and kept quiet.
Now Abdulmajeed — truly — you are going to Jos. “Father, so be it; may God make it easy and bless you.” Abba thanked her. Alh. Ahmad Manguno is Abdulmajeed’s father, born in Maiduguri. His parents — especially his father — are influential politicians; the whole town knows him. He married his wife Aseeya, a beautiful, religious woman, and they had children: Abdulkareem (the eldest), then Abdulmajeed, Abdulrahman, Abdulsamad, Abdulhameed, and a daughter Hauwa’u (called Jidda). The family is close and affectionate. His mother agreed to sell the farm and buy a house; she said she would not live in a rented place. She smiled and said, “May God grant success.” Today she is somewhere enjoying cool weather; she will leave Abuja for the pleasant climate — her father will help her find work there. “Why not go back there since you don’t want to stay with us?” his mother teased, reminding him of how he had always disliked being away from her. “Mother, sometime I will visit the cool place too,” he said, and they chatted as she gave him advice.