It was a neighborhood filled with both large, beautiful houses and smaller ones. At a glance, one could tell it wasn’t an old settlement—most buildings looked new or well-maintained. Some houses were brand-new, while others, although not brand new, were still in excellent condition. Among the large, attractive homes were those clearly belonging to the wealthy, while others showed signs of modest means. The area was peaceful, sparsely populated, and had a mix of affluent and humble residents living side by side.
The Sudden Entry and the Girls' Incident
A navy blue Corolla S drove into the street at moderate speed and suddenly screeched to a stop. Kiiirrr! The driver braked hard to avoid hitting two young girls, likely around 13 to 14 years old, who had dashed out from an alleyway on the right. One of the girls was carrying a white bucket—clearly selling something—while the other, empty-handed, ran just behind her. As they crossed the street, one girl grabbed the hijab of the one with the bucket and shoved her into a wall, trying to snatch the bucket from her. The other girl held tightly to the bucket.
Inside the car, the man looked visibly angry. The kids had startled him, and it was only by luck that he wasn’t speeding or else there could have been a terrible accident. He sighed, looked back at the alleyway the girls had run into, and saw them fighting. One girl, dressed in a skirt and blouse with her head wrapped in a scarf, was aggressively trying to take the bucket from the other, who was pinned to the wall.
Confrontation Begins
Seeing how determined the attacker was, the man lowered his window and called out, “Hey, hey!” But the girl ignored him. Raising his voice slightly, he said, “Let her go!” The girl selling goods spoke up: “Fatuu, didn’t you hear the man in the car telling you to let go of me?”
Still, Fatu tightened her grip on the bucket. When she couldn’t snatch it, she began to beat the girl. That was when the man stepped out of the car.
He was a tall and very handsome man, though not overly tall. His skin was smooth and light, with no blemishes. His face was strikingly beautiful, and his hair, neatly styled, was thick in the middle and tapered at the sides. He had a faint beard and mustache, peach-colored lips, and wore a navy blue suit with a black inner shirt and a matching navy-blue tie. He wore a stylish silver wristwatch and black dress shoes. His entire appearance was neat, elegant, and expensive.
Taking Charge
He closed the car door and walked toward the girls with a confident, majestic stride. Standing near them with a stern face, he commanded again: “Let her go!”
Fatu ignored him again. He raised his voice sharply, “Am I not talking to you, idiot?!”
Startled by the insult, Fatu turned, ready to lash back—until her eyes met his. His strong presence made her freeze.
“Get your hands off her,” he said firmly. Slowly, Fatu released her grip. She mumbled, “Just because you’re handsome doesn’t mean you should boss people around.”
He heard her but didn’t respond. Instead, he pointed and said to the seller girl, “Go on, leave.” She adjusted her yellow hijab and walked away.
Suddenly, the girl with the bucket cried, “Oh no! She spilled my awara (fried bean cakes)!” The man turned quickly to see what happened. Apparently, Fatu had returned while he was walking back to his car and pushed the bucket down, spilling the contents. Terrified by his reaction, she ran away into another alley.
The seller girl shouted angrily, “I won’t leave it! I’m going to your house for payment, you wicked girl!”
The Man Offers Help
The man turned back to see the girl crouching and crying while picking up what was left of her goods. Looking up with tears, she said, “See? She spilled everything! And it’s from a loan my mom took. Now the bucket is broken too!”
He gently said, “It’s okay, just leave the rest.”
She stared at him, not understanding. He repeated, “Leave the rest. You’ve done enough.”
She stood up, still crying. He asked, “What started this?”
She explained the long-standing issues between them, how her sister refused to give something to Fatu, which led to fights. Their mother had even intervened before. Fatu, still holding a grudge, caused this loss out of spite.
He interrupted her gently, “It’s okay. Where do you live?”
She replied, “At the back lane in Alhaji Sani’s compound. My father works as a gatekeeper there.”
“How much is your awara?” he asked.
“It’s worth ₦1,500,” she said. “Only a little is salvageable—maybe ₦200 worth.”
He sighed, pulled out his elegant black wallet, and handed her crisp ₦3,000 notes. Her eyes widened in shock.
“This is too much, sir,” she said.
“Use it to buy a new bucket and replace your stock,” he replied as he walked back to his car.
A Small Moment of Gratitude
Still stunned, she ran after him, calling “Sir! Sir!” He turned, annoyed. “What now?”
She hesitated, “What should I tell my mom if she asks who gave me the money?”
“Just tell her what happened,” he replied, about to get in the car.
“She might say I made it up,” the girl added, “She always warns us not to take money from strangers.”
He smirked faintly, touched by her honesty. Without a word, he opened the glove compartment, pulled out ₦2,000, handed it to her, and said with a smile, “Give this to your mom.”
As he closed the door and started the engine, he added, “Tell her it was from the son of Hajiya Senator.” Then he drove off.
The girl echoed in amazement, “Hajiya Senator’s son!” She held her chin in awe, then burst into joyful laughter. She ran back to gather what remained of her goods and cleaned the salvageable pieces. “We’ll eat this part,” she said aloud, scooping some from the clean side.
Meanwhile… Fatu Returns
Fatu peeked out from where she had hidden. She had a round face, defined features, and glowing skin. She cautiously looked around and tiptoed back to where the food had spilled. Looking at the mess, she muttered while stomping on it, “Let her try hitting me again tomorrow.”
As she grumbled, a car approached behind her. Startled, she prepared to run, but realizing it wasn’t his car, she relaxed and mumbled, “Even if it were him, I wouldn’t be scared—not even if he were a jinn!”
She continued walking with exaggerated gestures and pouting.
Fatu’s Destination
She reached a house without painted walls but with a visible plaster finish. A large gutter sat in front, covered with slabs, and a kiosk stood nearby. Entering the house’s passage, she went into what seemed to be a front room with a door and window—likely a sitting room.
Description
A Calm but Mixed Neighborhood
It was a neighborhood filled with both large, beautiful houses and smaller ones. At a glance, one could tell it wasn’t an old settlement—most buildings looked new or well-maintained. Some houses were brand-new, while others, although not brand new, were still in excellent condition. Among the large, attractive homes were those clearly belonging to the wealthy, while others showed signs of modest means. The area was peaceful, sparsely populated, and had a mix of affluent and humble residents living side by side.
The Sudden Entry and the Girls' Incident
A navy blue Corolla S drove into the street at moderate speed and suddenly screeched to a stop. Kiiirrr! The driver braked hard to avoid hitting two young girls, likely around 13 to 14 years old, who had dashed out from an alleyway on the right. One of the girls was carrying a white bucket—clearly selling something—while the other, empty-handed, ran just behind her. As they crossed the street, one girl grabbed the hijab of the one with the bucket and shoved her into a wall, trying to snatch the bucket from her. The other girl held tightly to the bucket.
Inside the car, the man looked visibly angry. The kids had startled him, and it was only by luck that he wasn’t speeding or else there could have been a terrible accident. He sighed, looked back at the alleyway the girls had run into, and saw them fighting. One girl, dressed in a skirt and blouse with her head wrapped in a scarf, was aggressively trying to take the bucket from the other, who was pinned to the wall.
Confrontation Begins
Seeing how determined the attacker was, the man lowered his window and called out, “Hey, hey!” But the girl ignored him. Raising his voice slightly, he said, “Let her go!” The girl selling goods spoke up: “Fatuu, didn’t you hear the man in the car telling you to let go of me?”
Still, Fatu tightened her grip on the bucket. When she couldn’t snatch it, she began to beat the girl. That was when the man stepped out of the car.
He was a tall and very handsome man, though not overly tall. His skin was smooth and light, with no blemishes. His face was strikingly beautiful, and his hair, neatly styled, was thick in the middle and tapered at the sides. He had a faint beard and mustache, peach-colored lips, and wore a navy blue suit with a black inner shirt and a matching navy-blue tie. He wore a stylish silver wristwatch and black dress shoes. His entire appearance was neat, elegant, and expensive.
Taking Charge
He closed the car door and walked toward the girls with a confident, majestic stride. Standing near them with a stern face, he commanded again: “Let her go!”
Fatu ignored him again. He raised his voice sharply, “Am I not talking to you, idiot?!”
Startled by the insult, Fatu turned, ready to lash back—until her eyes met his. His strong presence made her freeze.
“Get your hands off her,” he said firmly. Slowly, Fatu released her grip. She mumbled, “Just because you’re handsome doesn’t mean you should boss people around.”
He heard her but didn’t respond. Instead, he pointed and said to the seller girl, “Go on, leave.” She adjusted her yellow hijab and walked away.
Suddenly, the girl with the bucket cried, “Oh no! She spilled my awara (fried bean cakes)!” The man turned quickly to see what happened. Apparently, Fatu had returned while he was walking back to his car and pushed the bucket down, spilling the contents. Terrified by his reaction, she ran away into another alley.
The seller girl shouted angrily, “I won’t leave it! I’m going to your house for payment, you wicked girl!”
The Man Offers Help
The man turned back to see the girl crouching and crying while picking up what was left of her goods. Looking up with tears, she said, “See? She spilled everything! And it’s from a loan my mom took. Now the bucket is broken too!”
He gently said, “It’s okay, just leave the rest.”
She stared at him, not understanding. He repeated, “Leave the rest. You’ve done enough.”
She stood up, still crying. He asked, “What started this?”
She explained the long-standing issues between them, how her sister refused to give something to Fatu, which led to fights. Their mother had even intervened before. Fatu, still holding a grudge, caused this loss out of spite.
He interrupted her gently, “It’s okay. Where do you live?”
She replied, “At the back lane in Alhaji Sani’s compound. My father works as a gatekeeper there.”
“How much is your awara?” he asked.
“It’s worth ₦1,500,” she said. “Only a little is salvageable—maybe ₦200 worth.”
He sighed, pulled out his elegant black wallet, and handed her crisp ₦3,000 notes. Her eyes widened in shock.
“This is too much, sir,” she said.
“Use it to buy a new bucket and replace your stock,” he replied as he walked back to his car.
A Small Moment of Gratitude
Still stunned, she ran after him, calling “Sir! Sir!” He turned, annoyed. “What now?”
She hesitated, “What should I tell my mom if she asks who gave me the money?”
“Just tell her what happened,” he replied, about to get in the car.
“She might say I made it up,” the girl added, “She always warns us not to take money from strangers.”
He smirked faintly, touched by her honesty. Without a word, he opened the glove compartment, pulled out ₦2,000, handed it to her, and said with a smile, “Give this to your mom.”
As he closed the door and started the engine, he added, “Tell her it was from the son of Hajiya Senator.” Then he drove off.
The girl echoed in amazement, “Hajiya Senator’s son!” She held her chin in awe, then burst into joyful laughter. She ran back to gather what remained of her goods and cleaned the salvageable pieces. “We’ll eat this part,” she said aloud, scooping some from the clean side.
Meanwhile… Fatu Returns
Fatu peeked out from where she had hidden. She had a round face, defined features, and glowing skin. She cautiously looked around and tiptoed back to where the food had spilled. Looking at the mess, she muttered while stomping on it, “Let her try hitting me again tomorrow.”
As she grumbled, a car approached behind her. Startled, she prepared to run, but realizing it wasn’t his car, she relaxed and mumbled, “Even if it were him, I wouldn’t be scared—not even if he were a jinn!”
She continued walking with exaggerated gestures and pouting.
Fatu’s Destination
She reached a house without painted walls but with a visible plaster finish. A large gutter sat in front, covered with slabs, and a kiosk stood nearby. Entering the house’s passage, she went into what seemed to be a front room with a door and window—likely a sitting room.