Life’s destiny is like a map drawn on the sheet of our life’s account. No matter how much you try to erase it or avoid it, you may not always have the weapons to fight it, let alone a shield to protect yourself from its arrival—whether it comes in a short time or over many years. Sometimes, we cry tears that fall from our eyes, but it is the cry of the heart that hurts the most—painful and bitter—destroying our lives and achievements both secretly and openly, leaving behind scars we cannot forget. At times, those scars remain as marks that return to our memory again and again.
At birth, our parents are our shield—sacrificing everything they have to wrap our lives with their hopes. They raise us with passion and certainty until we grow up. That love never fades from our hearts; it stands apart from every other love that may come after. Even when they punish us and we feel pain, that love never changes in our hearts, for they are truly unique—like thousands in one—in all matters surrounding our success or failure.
As we grow older, old age begins to catch up with them, while youth surrounds us. At this stage, when you can tell the difference between white and black in your present and your future, the book of your destiny begins with bold lines showing your trials. Struggle becomes your companion, not just in worldly life but also in the pursuit of the Hereafter, choosing your eternal fate—whether good or bad. Adulthood starts with balancing your deeds between rewards and sins, all in the open and recorded by the One who created you. Our parents finish the struggle of raising us and then continue supporting our adulthood without growing weary, for they remain different from all others in our lives.
The Influence of Youthful Love
When you start understanding yourself and confirming your identity, it is hard not to find the charm of youthful love making its way into your destiny. This kind of love is not just for show or a casual experience—it holds a unique place in your life and in the life of the one sharing it with you. How did this love start? Did it end? Did it continue? Or is it still alive? It can become a mirror of your reflection, or the story that persistent followers keep watching.
The Encounter at the Roadside
Three young ladies dressed in national service uniforms stood at the roadside, each holding the handle of her travel bag, waiting for transport. They tried stopping tricycles (napep), but most already had passengers, so the three of them couldn’t fit. The one in the middle, who wasn’t smiling much, raised her head to look at the cloudy sky, hoping the rain wouldn’t touch her—it would be troublesome for her. That’s why she was more anxious than the others to find transport, especially since their journey was long—they were headed to Kaduna State.
The sudden wind from the coming storm made her glance at her friends, her eyes filling with tears. Before she could speak, a sleek car stopped in front of them. They all stared, but when a young man stepped out, two of them smiled in surprise. The one in the middle simply tightened her expression and looked away. The man, however, focused all his attention on her, walking straight to her side.
“So, after all my speed, you still tried to run away from me?” he said.
She stepped back slightly, face still stern. He scratched his head and smiled, then turned to the other two with a playful glare. “Come on, friends, you wouldn’t really run away from me, right?”
They laughed. The slightly plump one replied, “We’d never do that. Even if we ran, we’d still bring you back from RK’s hideout. But forgive us—your special lady here is the reason we left so early. She barely slept last night because she was excited to go home to see Ammie.”
The young man chuckled. “Or maybe she’s just happy to run away from Jos and leave her stubbornness behind?” He glanced again at the middle girl. The one on her left quickly responded, “Come on, RK, you know that’s not true.”
He smirked. “Hmm, Aneesa, I know you always defend her. No matter how the matter starts, you protect her. Anyway, just get in the car—the rain’s about to fall, and I don’t want my queen getting wet.”
Before anyone could answer, the middle girl started pulling her bag to leave. RK grabbed it, making her stop without turning. Aneesa quickly took the bag from him, telling her, “Please, for God’s sake, let’s go. Look at the sky—it could rain anytime, and you know what that would do to you. RK only offered to take us to the park, nothing more. This could be your last meeting; don’t end it on a bad note. Even if you’ll never accept him, don’t hurt him today. After all, he doesn’t have your number anymore, nor your address.”
The middle girl’s eyes filled with tears, but before she could speak, the rain poured down. Aneesa pushed her into the car, then followed. Only when she noticed she wasn’t getting wet did she raise her head—only to lock eyes with RK, who was staring intensely. She quickly turned away, glaring at her friends.
As the car moved through heavy rain, no one spoke. RK kept glancing at her through the mirror. Her name was Maanal—a beautiful, calm girl, tall but not overly slim, with a reserved nature. She rarely smiled, never laughed easily, and always carried a novel. She wore white-rimmed eyeglasses, which suited her perfectly. While most thought she wore them only for reading, there was another reason she never told anyone…
Description
The Fate of Life
Life’s destiny is like a map drawn on the sheet of our life’s account. No matter how much you try to erase it or avoid it, you may not always have the weapons to fight it, let alone a shield to protect yourself from its arrival—whether it comes in a short time or over many years. Sometimes, we cry tears that fall from our eyes, but it is the cry of the heart that hurts the most—painful and bitter—destroying our lives and achievements both secretly and openly, leaving behind scars we cannot forget. At times, those scars remain as marks that return to our memory again and again.
At birth, our parents are our shield—sacrificing everything they have to wrap our lives with their hopes. They raise us with passion and certainty until we grow up. That love never fades from our hearts; it stands apart from every other love that may come after. Even when they punish us and we feel pain, that love never changes in our hearts, for they are truly unique—like thousands in one—in all matters surrounding our success or failure.
As we grow older, old age begins to catch up with them, while youth surrounds us. At this stage, when you can tell the difference between white and black in your present and your future, the book of your destiny begins with bold lines showing your trials. Struggle becomes your companion, not just in worldly life but also in the pursuit of the Hereafter, choosing your eternal fate—whether good or bad. Adulthood starts with balancing your deeds between rewards and sins, all in the open and recorded by the One who created you. Our parents finish the struggle of raising us and then continue supporting our adulthood without growing weary, for they remain different from all others in our lives.
The Influence of Youthful Love
When you start understanding yourself and confirming your identity, it is hard not to find the charm of youthful love making its way into your destiny. This kind of love is not just for show or a casual experience—it holds a unique place in your life and in the life of the one sharing it with you. How did this love start? Did it end? Did it continue? Or is it still alive? It can become a mirror of your reflection, or the story that persistent followers keep watching.
The Encounter at the Roadside
Three young ladies dressed in national service uniforms stood at the roadside, each holding the handle of her travel bag, waiting for transport. They tried stopping tricycles (napep), but most already had passengers, so the three of them couldn’t fit. The one in the middle, who wasn’t smiling much, raised her head to look at the cloudy sky, hoping the rain wouldn’t touch her—it would be troublesome for her. That’s why she was more anxious than the others to find transport, especially since their journey was long—they were headed to Kaduna State.
The sudden wind from the coming storm made her glance at her friends, her eyes filling with tears. Before she could speak, a sleek car stopped in front of them. They all stared, but when a young man stepped out, two of them smiled in surprise. The one in the middle simply tightened her expression and looked away. The man, however, focused all his attention on her, walking straight to her side.
“So, after all my speed, you still tried to run away from me?” he said.
She stepped back slightly, face still stern. He scratched his head and smiled, then turned to the other two with a playful glare. “Come on, friends, you wouldn’t really run away from me, right?”
They laughed. The slightly plump one replied, “We’d never do that. Even if we ran, we’d still bring you back from RK’s hideout. But forgive us—your special lady here is the reason we left so early. She barely slept last night because she was excited to go home to see Ammie.”
The young man chuckled. “Or maybe she’s just happy to run away from Jos and leave her stubbornness behind?” He glanced again at the middle girl. The one on her left quickly responded, “Come on, RK, you know that’s not true.”
He smirked. “Hmm, Aneesa, I know you always defend her. No matter how the matter starts, you protect her. Anyway, just get in the car—the rain’s about to fall, and I don’t want my queen getting wet.”
Before anyone could answer, the middle girl started pulling her bag to leave. RK grabbed it, making her stop without turning. Aneesa quickly took the bag from him, telling her, “Please, for God’s sake, let’s go. Look at the sky—it could rain anytime, and you know what that would do to you. RK only offered to take us to the park, nothing more. This could be your last meeting; don’t end it on a bad note. Even if you’ll never accept him, don’t hurt him today. After all, he doesn’t have your number anymore, nor your address.”
The middle girl’s eyes filled with tears, but before she could speak, the rain poured down. Aneesa pushed her into the car, then followed. Only when she noticed she wasn’t getting wet did she raise her head—only to lock eyes with RK, who was staring intensely. She quickly turned away, glaring at her friends.
As the car moved through heavy rain, no one spoke. RK kept glancing at her through the mirror. Her name was Maanal—a beautiful, calm girl, tall but not overly slim, with a reserved nature. She rarely smiled, never laughed easily, and always carried a novel. She wore white-rimmed eyeglasses, which suited her perfectly. While most thought she wore them only for reading, there was another reason she never told anyone…