It was a luxurious bedroom filled with opulent items of comfort and pleasure. Anyone who took a good look at it would confirm that the owner was greatly blessed with wealth by God. Everything in the room screamed extravagance. Just one glance and you could tell the owner was a woman—her dresser was full of beauty products and body care items. A display cabinet contained stylish shoes and designer handbags that looked like they came straight from a high-end boutique—clearly not for the poor.
On the large bed lay a beautiful young lady, her hair spread out as she slept peacefully.
Sunlight pierced through the window, gently touching her face and causing her to stir. She slowly opened her eyes, frowned slightly, and sat up. Glancing at the wall clock in her room, she saw it was 9:30 in the morning. She quietly lowered her feet and walked to the en-suite bathroom.
Even the bathroom could rival paradise itself.
She took a shower and came out in only a towel. Surprisingly, her bed area had already been tidied up. She sat before the mirror, slowly and calmly applying different creams and products to her body. She picked a blouse, skirt, and light headscarf, then wore her high-heeled shoes and matching designer handbag. She glanced at her wristwatch—it was exactly 10:30—then left the room.
Her footsteps echoed confidently as her heels made a clicking sound. She entered a massive living room and sat down. Not long after, a housemaid brought her a plate of fruit, but she didn’t even look at it. Instead, she focused her attention on the bracelet on her wristwatch.
Conversations at the Gate
Meanwhile, at the gate, two men—Isa and his friend Sani—were chatting while munching groundnuts.
Isa remarked, “Honestly, life in the village has both peace and struggle.”
Sani responded, “How can you say there’s peace in the village? Have you ever seen a city man return to the village without hardship?”
Isa countered, “But village life is peaceful. No fear, no tension. Unlike the city, where there's no honesty anymore.”
Sani said, “Well, since I moved to the city and got this security job, I only go back to the village to visit. I’m planning to bring my family here soon.”
Sani asked him, “To this very house? But didn’t you tell me you're constantly afraid of being fired at any time?”
Isa replied, “Don’t jinx me! I’ll rent a place elsewhere.”
Their conversation continued, focused on comparing rural and urban life.
Back in the house, the young lady glanced at her watch—12:45 PM. She got up with elegance and walked to the compound’s gate. There, Isa and Sani were still talking. Isa quickly stood up nervously and greeted her, “May God protect you. Good morning.”
She ignored the greeting and asked coldly, “Has Sabo, the driver, still not arrived?”
He replied respectfully, “No, Ma. He hasn’t arrived yet.”
She frowned, shook her head, and went back inside.
Sani noticed Isa trembling and asked, “Who is she? You’re so nervous around her.”
Isa whispered, “That’s the daughter of the house owner. She has no siblings. The only daughter of Alhaji. She’s been back from abroad for three months. She acts completely foreign—doesn’t behave like a Nigerian at all. Poor Sabo is in trouble today.”
Just then, the gate was knocked hard. Isa rushed to open it. A man, around 40 years old, walked in hurriedly like he’d been chased.
“Sabo, you're done for! She just came out looking for you!” Isa said.
Sabo exclaimed, “I’m finished! I had to take my son to the chemist—he’s sick!”
Isa replied, “Don’t explain to me. Go talk to her yourself.”
As they spoke, she came back out. Her face was stern. She glared at Sabo and asked,
“What time did I tell you I would leave?”
He replied nervously, “11 o’clock, Ma.”
“And what time is it now?”
“Ten past twelve.”
“Good. Hand me my car keys.”
Sabo pleaded, “Please, Ma. I’m sorry. My son was sick.”
She barked, “Shut up. Did I ask you anything? Just give me my keys.”
He tried to kneel, but she stopped him. “Are the cars yours or mine?”
“They’re yours, Ma.”
“Then hand over the keys. You’re fired. The gatekeeper will give you your pay. Let this be a lesson to you—when someone employs you, they own your work hours. Any personal matter you attend to must have their permission unless it’s an act of worship.”
She turned and left. Sabo sat down, holding his head in frustration.
Isa said, “Take heart, Sabo. May God bless you with a better job.”
Sabo replied sadly, “Amen. Thanks, Isa. If she gives me the rest of my wages, I’ll come to collect them.”
He left with a heavy heart.
Harsh Opinions and Family Background
After Sabo left, Sani turned to Bala with concern, “Isn’t that girl taught to forgive or accept apologies?”
Bala shook his head, “She doesn’t know any of that. She has a dangerous mindset from growing up abroad. Her heart is like that of a non-believer. She treats her father’s wife and her stepsiblings like slaves. She only laughs with her father, a close family friend, or her elite friends.”
“She’s already driven away four drivers since returning to Nigeria. Despite good salaries and her father’s generosity, nobody lasts. I’ve personally brought six housemaids for her—all of them ran away.”
Sani sighed deeply, “Where’s her mother? How did she grow up with such beliefs, completely opposite to our Islamic and cultural values?”
Isa explained, “Her mother died. As for her father, he believes everything she does is right. He once said upsetting her is like setting his heart on fire.”
Sani quietly pondered everything Isa said, then left, pushing his wheelbarrow of mangoes out of the compound.
The Secret Mission Begins
Meanwhile, a young man—about 30 years old—sat in his office, completely engrossed in his computer screens. The knock at the door pulled him back to reality.
“Yes, come in,” he said.
A young woman walked in, dressed in a black suit and light black veil. She greeted politely,
“Good day, sir. The boss wants to see you in his office.”
He nodded.
“Alright. I’ll be there, God willing.”
She smiled, “Can I get you something to eat? You look like you haven’t eaten today.”
He declined, “No, thank you.”
She asked, “But what about Yusuf?”
Without looking at her, he said, “He hasn’t come in.”
She left, muttering to herself, “No matter what I do, I can’t impress this guy. Him and Yusuf—always focused. I’d rather take this one over that moody quiet guy.”
He shut down his computer, picked up his phone, keys, bag, and top, then headed to another office.
Upon arrival, he greeted respectfully and waited to be offered a seat.
The superior asked, “Abbas, are you sure about this assignment? You know how risky it is. Any progress on the case?”
Abbas smiled confidently, “Don’t worry, sir. God willing, we’ll succeed. I’ll head to Yusuf now—he’s key to the investigation.”
“Alright. May God bless your efforts. I believe in your abilities.”
“Amen, thank you, sir.”
Later, Yusuf was seen in his room, scattered with files and two laptops. He stared intensely at photos of a stunning 18-year-old girl—wearing a white mini-skirt, top, sunhat, and holding a white fluffy dog on a beach.
His phone rang. It was Abbas.
“Assalamu Alaikum,” Yusuf greeted.
Abbas replied, “I’m at your door. Should I come in? I have news.”
“Yes, come in.”
As Abbas entered, Yusuf remarked, “You sent me those photos two days ago but vanished. No office visits—just this ongoing investigation. Where have you been?”
Abbas sat down and said, “Let me explain.”
Yusuf asked, “So what’s the news?”
Abbas leaned forward, “Those pictures I sent? That’s Alhaji Nasir Daula’s only daughter. The investigation revolves around her. I’ve spent two weeks visiting their home posing as a mango seller and nail cutter. I’ve gained the gatekeeper’s trust and collect intel during my visits.”
Yusuf asked, “But I don’t see how she connects to our target.”
Abbas explained, “She is the main target of Alhaji Nasir’s enemies. This mission isn’t just about intel—it’s also about protecting her.”
Yusuf frowned, “But Abbas, this is a covert investigation. Even Alhaji Nasir doesn’t know we’re working the case. How can we protect her without exposing ourselves?”
Description
A Glimpse Into Luxury
It was a luxurious bedroom filled with opulent items of comfort and pleasure. Anyone who took a good look at it would confirm that the owner was greatly blessed with wealth by God. Everything in the room screamed extravagance. Just one glance and you could tell the owner was a woman—her dresser was full of beauty products and body care items. A display cabinet contained stylish shoes and designer handbags that looked like they came straight from a high-end boutique—clearly not for the poor.
On the large bed lay a beautiful young lady, her hair spread out as she slept peacefully.
Sunlight pierced through the window, gently touching her face and causing her to stir. She slowly opened her eyes, frowned slightly, and sat up. Glancing at the wall clock in her room, she saw it was 9:30 in the morning. She quietly lowered her feet and walked to the en-suite bathroom.
Even the bathroom could rival paradise itself.
She took a shower and came out in only a towel. Surprisingly, her bed area had already been tidied up. She sat before the mirror, slowly and calmly applying different creams and products to her body. She picked a blouse, skirt, and light headscarf, then wore her high-heeled shoes and matching designer handbag. She glanced at her wristwatch—it was exactly 10:30—then left the room.
Her footsteps echoed confidently as her heels made a clicking sound. She entered a massive living room and sat down. Not long after, a housemaid brought her a plate of fruit, but she didn’t even look at it. Instead, she focused her attention on the bracelet on her wristwatch.
Conversations at the Gate
Meanwhile, at the gate, two men—Isa and his friend Sani—were chatting while munching groundnuts.
Isa remarked, “Honestly, life in the village has both peace and struggle.”
Sani responded, “How can you say there’s peace in the village? Have you ever seen a city man return to the village without hardship?”
Isa countered, “But village life is peaceful. No fear, no tension. Unlike the city, where there's no honesty anymore.”
Sani said, “Well, since I moved to the city and got this security job, I only go back to the village to visit. I’m planning to bring my family here soon.”
Sani asked him, “To this very house? But didn’t you tell me you're constantly afraid of being fired at any time?”
Isa replied, “Don’t jinx me! I’ll rent a place elsewhere.”
Their conversation continued, focused on comparing rural and urban life.
Back in the house, the young lady glanced at her watch—12:45 PM. She got up with elegance and walked to the compound’s gate. There, Isa and Sani were still talking. Isa quickly stood up nervously and greeted her, “May God protect you. Good morning.”
She ignored the greeting and asked coldly, “Has Sabo, the driver, still not arrived?”
He replied respectfully, “No, Ma. He hasn’t arrived yet.”
She frowned, shook her head, and went back inside.
Sani noticed Isa trembling and asked, “Who is she? You’re so nervous around her.”
Isa whispered, “That’s the daughter of the house owner. She has no siblings. The only daughter of Alhaji. She’s been back from abroad for three months. She acts completely foreign—doesn’t behave like a Nigerian at all. Poor Sabo is in trouble today.”
Just then, the gate was knocked hard. Isa rushed to open it. A man, around 40 years old, walked in hurriedly like he’d been chased.
“Sabo, you're done for! She just came out looking for you!” Isa said.
Sabo exclaimed, “I’m finished! I had to take my son to the chemist—he’s sick!”
Isa replied, “Don’t explain to me. Go talk to her yourself.”
As they spoke, she came back out. Her face was stern. She glared at Sabo and asked,
“What time did I tell you I would leave?”
He replied nervously, “11 o’clock, Ma.”
“And what time is it now?”
“Ten past twelve.”
“Good. Hand me my car keys.”
Sabo pleaded, “Please, Ma. I’m sorry. My son was sick.”
She barked, “Shut up. Did I ask you anything? Just give me my keys.”
He tried to kneel, but she stopped him. “Are the cars yours or mine?”
“They’re yours, Ma.”
“Then hand over the keys. You’re fired. The gatekeeper will give you your pay. Let this be a lesson to you—when someone employs you, they own your work hours. Any personal matter you attend to must have their permission unless it’s an act of worship.”
She turned and left. Sabo sat down, holding his head in frustration.
Isa said, “Take heart, Sabo. May God bless you with a better job.”
Sabo replied sadly, “Amen. Thanks, Isa. If she gives me the rest of my wages, I’ll come to collect them.”
He left with a heavy heart.
Harsh Opinions and Family Background
After Sabo left, Sani turned to Bala with concern, “Isn’t that girl taught to forgive or accept apologies?”
Bala shook his head, “She doesn’t know any of that. She has a dangerous mindset from growing up abroad. Her heart is like that of a non-believer. She treats her father’s wife and her stepsiblings like slaves. She only laughs with her father, a close family friend, or her elite friends.”
“She’s already driven away four drivers since returning to Nigeria. Despite good salaries and her father’s generosity, nobody lasts. I’ve personally brought six housemaids for her—all of them ran away.”
Sani sighed deeply, “Where’s her mother? How did she grow up with such beliefs, completely opposite to our Islamic and cultural values?”
Isa explained, “Her mother died. As for her father, he believes everything she does is right. He once said upsetting her is like setting his heart on fire.”
Sani quietly pondered everything Isa said, then left, pushing his wheelbarrow of mangoes out of the compound.
The Secret Mission Begins
Meanwhile, a young man—about 30 years old—sat in his office, completely engrossed in his computer screens. The knock at the door pulled him back to reality.
“Yes, come in,” he said.
A young woman walked in, dressed in a black suit and light black veil. She greeted politely,
“Good day, sir. The boss wants to see you in his office.”
He nodded.
“Alright. I’ll be there, God willing.”
She smiled, “Can I get you something to eat? You look like you haven’t eaten today.”
He declined, “No, thank you.”
She asked, “But what about Yusuf?”
Without looking at her, he said, “He hasn’t come in.”
She left, muttering to herself, “No matter what I do, I can’t impress this guy. Him and Yusuf—always focused. I’d rather take this one over that moody quiet guy.”
He shut down his computer, picked up his phone, keys, bag, and top, then headed to another office.
Upon arrival, he greeted respectfully and waited to be offered a seat.
The superior asked, “Abbas, are you sure about this assignment? You know how risky it is. Any progress on the case?”
Abbas smiled confidently, “Don’t worry, sir. God willing, we’ll succeed. I’ll head to Yusuf now—he’s key to the investigation.”
“Alright. May God bless your efforts. I believe in your abilities.”
“Amen, thank you, sir.”
Later, Yusuf was seen in his room, scattered with files and two laptops. He stared intensely at photos of a stunning 18-year-old girl—wearing a white mini-skirt, top, sunhat, and holding a white fluffy dog on a beach.
His phone rang. It was Abbas.
“Assalamu Alaikum,” Yusuf greeted.
Abbas replied, “I’m at your door. Should I come in? I have news.”
“Yes, come in.”
As Abbas entered, Yusuf remarked, “You sent me those photos two days ago but vanished. No office visits—just this ongoing investigation. Where have you been?”
Abbas sat down and said, “Let me explain.”
Yusuf asked, “So what’s the news?”
Abbas leaned forward, “Those pictures I sent? That’s Alhaji Nasir Daula’s only daughter. The investigation revolves around her. I’ve spent two weeks visiting their home posing as a mango seller and nail cutter. I’ve gained the gatekeeper’s trust and collect intel during my visits.”
Yusuf asked, “But I don’t see how she connects to our target.”
Abbas explained, “She is the main target of Alhaji Nasir’s enemies. This mission isn’t just about intel—it’s also about protecting her.”
Yusuf frowned, “But Abbas, this is a covert investigation. Even Alhaji Nasir doesn’t know we’re working the case. How can we protect her without exposing ourselves?”