Slowly, the car pulled into the street and halted in front of a massive gate. The way it made a faint sound as it stopped was a sign that the vehicle had traveled a long distance. The driver didn’t honk; instead, he drove the car to the side of the gate under a large dorawa tree. From behind the car, some elderly men stepped out, followed by a young man who had been in the driver's seat. He greeted the driver respectfully with prayers.
They walked towards the house entrance. The young man knocked for a while before an elderly man peeked through a small door within the gate.
He quickly opened the door, saying,
“Ah, Alhaji, welcome! You must be tired, well done!”
As he shook hands with them, they replied,
“Indeed, Malam Sani, how are you all?”
Smiling, he responded,
“Alhamdulillah (All praise is due to Allah).”
He continued,
“Let me take you to see Alhaji. Thankfully, he is around.”
They entered the compound, following behind Malam Sani toward the host’s quarters.
Warm Welcome
As they reached the host’s door, Malam Sani stepped out, saying,
“Bismillah, please come in. Welcome.”
He moved quickly, eager to fulfill Alhaji’s request to call his close friend, Malam Bukar.
They entered the sitting room with greetings. Everything in the room spoke of comfort and luxury—it looked like a royal palace.
Alhaji Jafar Mai Yadi walked towards them warmly, saying,
“Ah! Alhaji Sulaiman, so you’re here, all the way today?”
But in his heart, he was filled with surprise—he knew nothing urgent should’ve brought them here now, especially since there were still three days left before the agreed visit, and all requirements had already been provided. Still, he hoped whatever it was would be for good.
After the initial greetings, one of Alhaji Jafar’s sons entered with refreshments, followed by a young man carrying food warmers, and a girl with a basket of plates, spoons, and cups. They all greeted and left.
From the moment the refreshments began arriving, Alhaji Sulaiman bowed his head, as if his heart was heavily burdened.
“Please, eat before we go for prayer since the call for Zuhr has been made,” Alhaji Jafar said as he headed out.
Discussing the Purpose of the Visit
After Alhaji Jafar left, Alhaji Ismail turned to his elder brother Alhaji Sulaiman, saying,
“I’m confused. I don’t even know how to start explaining this to him, given the kindness we’ve received from this man.”
The young man who drove them added,
“Honestly Daddy, I wish you had let Hajiya come and tell them herself. I’ve never seen anything like this. Everything was done respectfully, and yet now this? I really feel sorry for Musbahu; he’s deeply affected. But she… she doesn’t even care.”
Alhaji Sulaiman said nothing further. Despite his hunger, he only drank some juice and water. Alhaji Ismail and Al-Amin ate and left for the mosque at the gate.
They returned together after prayer, along with Malam Bukar, who was also the mosque’s imam.
After exchanging fresh greetings, Al-Amin didn’t return with them.
Breaking the News
With great courage, Alhaji Sulaiman began speaking to Malam Bukar,
“Please forgive us for what we’ve come to say. I swear, if it weren’t for this household, I would never have returned to this town.”
He fell silent, unable to continue due to the lump in his throat.
Alhaji Jafar suddenly felt something shoot up from his feet—an inexplicable fear and anxiety. Silence fell on the room.
Malam Bukar eventually spoke,
“Alhaji, please say what it is. Life is full of ups and downs, and any sincere Muslim knows everything happens by Allah’s decree. It’s okay. We are one family.”
Alhaji Ismail took over, seeing that his elder brother could not go on.
“Please forgive us, Malam. Regarding the planned marriage between our son and your daughter, a serious issue has arisen in the past three days. His mother has firmly refused to let him marry Zahra. No matter what we did to change her mind, it didn’t work. In fact, she swore that if Musbahu marries Zahra, she would never forgive him—not even for the milk she nursed him with.”
Alhaji Jafar kept repeating “Innalillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un”, overwhelmed. Every time this marriage topic came up, something happened to ruin it. He was exhausted and confused.
Malam Bukar was equally speechless. Alhaji Sulaiman and the others kept apologizing.
With patience and wisdom, Malam Bukar finally said,
“Alhaji, don’t worry. Everything is Allah’s will. Perhaps Allah didn’t decree him to be her husband. May it be for the best for both of them.”
They all responded with “Ameen.”
Still, Alhaji Ismail added,
“But honestly, this is heartbreaking. Before anyone finds another woman like her, it will take a long time.”
They escorted their guests to the car. Even as they left, the guests continued apologizing.
Back at Malam Bukar’s House
After they left, everyone returned inside with heavy hearts.
“This must be fate,” someone said. “This is the third time a marriage for this girl has been cancelled.”
Alhaji Jafar turned to Malam Bukar and said with resolve,
“Malam, InshaAllah, this time I will marry off Fatima. I can’t keep watching this. Whatever it takes, I’ll make sure it happens.”
Malam Bukar shook his head. He knew something strange was going on. He had always suspected there were enemies involved, but he thought the problems had passed.
He replied gently,
“Alhaji, please don’t act out of anger. Don’t make a decision you might regret.”
Alhaji Jafar sat down, exhaling deeply.
“It’s not anger at Allah’s will. I’m just tired of this endless cycle. Every time, I’m made to look like a fool. People insult me, saying because she’s not my biological daughter, I watch her suffer in silence. If I hadn’t vowed to stop arranging cousin marriages, I would’ve married her to Abdul Hakeem already. But it’s not too late. Ask Mahmud, your student, if he’s interested—I’ll give her to him.”
Shocked, Malam Bukar asked,
“Which Mahmud? The one from here?”
“Yes, that one,” Alhaji Jafar replied.
“There’s no other Mahmud here, but Alhaji, the matter of Mahmud is not hidden. Don’t let the world mock us.”
Alhaji leaned forward and said,
“Wallahi, Malam, I’m not afraid of what people will say. I admire his composure. If this hasn’t worked out before, then perhaps Allah did not will the others to be her husband. I’ve long had an interest in him marrying one of my daughters.”
Malam nodded in deep thought. He had long suspected that Zahra’s true husband was not near, and he had often sent students to make special prayers for her.
At the Bridal Shower
Zahra descended the stairs gracefully, like royalty. Her face was beautifully made up, carrying a small purse in her hand. Two other girls followed her, also dressed elegantly. Even before they reached the room, her calming fragrance filled the air.
The sitting room was full of people, mostly women and children. One woman rushed over, offering warm congratulations.
“Masha Allah, may Allah protect you from evil and bless your marriage. Beautiful bride, the pride of Mubi, descendant of the Arabs of Jordan and Medina. Such beauty runs deep!”
Another woman stood up to give the speaker money, while continuing to sing Zahra’s praises.
Aunty Hasana appeared from the corridor, observing her younger sister with awe and glorifying Allah for such beauty.
Zahra smiled lightly and joked,
“Baba Tabawa, since when did you become a praise singer without telling me?”
The woman laughed,
“Well, even if I didn’t know how, I learned it for you. This is your wedding after all—your big day!”
Everyone burst into laughter. Hasana and Baba Tabawa accompanied Zahra to the bridal shower venue.
They had fun, took pictures, and enjoyed themselves. But anyone who truly knew Zahra could tell she wasn’t at peace. She felt an uneasiness she couldn’t explain. Since the previous day, she had tried reaching Mushahu with no success—even his friend Deeni hadn’t responded. Yet they were supposed to arrive today and already had hotel keys.
Zahra’s Fears and Confession
After the event ended around 9 PM, Zahra didn’t return upstairs to her reserved room. Instead, she went to Aunty Hasana’s bedroom. The room was peaceful, filled with the scent of incense and freshener, and the cool air of the AC.
She removed her headband and lay on the bed, completely drained, barely moving.
Some time later, she heard the door open but didn’t look up. She knew it was her Aunty by the scent.
Hasana sat beside her, touched her neck, and asked,
“What’s wrong with you? I’ve been watching your mood all day, and you're clearly not okay.”
Zahra sat up slowly, tears filling her eyes.
“I don’t even know what’s wrong with me, Aunty. My heart is heavy and keeps racing.”
She broke into quiet sobs.
“There’s nothing to cry about! You should be happy—this is your wedding! Not like the previous times.”
She buried her head in Hasana’s arms and cried until she could speak again.
“Aunty, I swear, I feel like something will go wrong again. I even had the same dream I always have before my weddings get cancelled.”
Hasana stared at her in fear. She wondered—could Zahra have unknowingly been married to a spirit?
She swallowed her fears and tried to reassure her.
“Zahra, don’t say such things. Just pray—this time will be different. Wait till tomorrow. Maybe they’ve been delayed. For now, go pray, eat, and check your messages.”
At Malam Bukar’s School
After the isha'i prayer, Malam and his senior students gathered for Hadith and Fiqh lessons in his well-furnished main hall. After the session, they ate dinner, as was the routine.
The school had improved greatly—it now had proper hostels, classrooms, vocational centers, and provided meals. The students didn’t have to beg anymore, and teachers handled both Islamic and secular education, from primary to senior secondary levels. The school was supported by an NGO.
As Mahmud and Habib were about to leave, Malam cleared his throat. Both turned. Malam signaled Mahmud to stay while Habib left.
Mahmud sat close to Malam respectfully, folding his legs.
Malam stared at him silently for nearly three minutes before saying:
“Mahmud…”
“Yes, Malam,” he responded.
“Do you know why I called you?”
“No, Malam.”
In a solemn tone, Malam said,
“A heavy responsibility has been placed upon me—one I don’t even know how to begin explaining.”
Mahmud adjusted his sitting posture and looked Malam in the eye:
“Malam, whatever it is, please tell me. I will obey you, InshaAllah.”
Description
Arrival at the Gate
Slowly, the car pulled into the street and halted in front of a massive gate. The way it made a faint sound as it stopped was a sign that the vehicle had traveled a long distance. The driver didn’t honk; instead, he drove the car to the side of the gate under a large dorawa tree. From behind the car, some elderly men stepped out, followed by a young man who had been in the driver's seat. He greeted the driver respectfully with prayers.
They walked towards the house entrance. The young man knocked for a while before an elderly man peeked through a small door within the gate.
He quickly opened the door, saying,
“Ah, Alhaji, welcome! You must be tired, well done!”
As he shook hands with them, they replied,
“Indeed, Malam Sani, how are you all?”
Smiling, he responded,
“Alhamdulillah (All praise is due to Allah).”
He continued,
“Let me take you to see Alhaji. Thankfully, he is around.”
They entered the compound, following behind Malam Sani toward the host’s quarters.
Warm Welcome
As they reached the host’s door, Malam Sani stepped out, saying,
“Bismillah, please come in. Welcome.”
He moved quickly, eager to fulfill Alhaji’s request to call his close friend, Malam Bukar.
They entered the sitting room with greetings. Everything in the room spoke of comfort and luxury—it looked like a royal palace.
Alhaji Jafar Mai Yadi walked towards them warmly, saying,
“Ah! Alhaji Sulaiman, so you’re here, all the way today?”
But in his heart, he was filled with surprise—he knew nothing urgent should’ve brought them here now, especially since there were still three days left before the agreed visit, and all requirements had already been provided. Still, he hoped whatever it was would be for good.
After the initial greetings, one of Alhaji Jafar’s sons entered with refreshments, followed by a young man carrying food warmers, and a girl with a basket of plates, spoons, and cups. They all greeted and left.
From the moment the refreshments began arriving, Alhaji Sulaiman bowed his head, as if his heart was heavily burdened.
“Please, eat before we go for prayer since the call for Zuhr has been made,” Alhaji Jafar said as he headed out.
Discussing the Purpose of the Visit
After Alhaji Jafar left, Alhaji Ismail turned to his elder brother Alhaji Sulaiman, saying,
“I’m confused. I don’t even know how to start explaining this to him, given the kindness we’ve received from this man.”
The young man who drove them added,
“Honestly Daddy, I wish you had let Hajiya come and tell them herself. I’ve never seen anything like this. Everything was done respectfully, and yet now this? I really feel sorry for Musbahu; he’s deeply affected. But she… she doesn’t even care.”
Alhaji Sulaiman said nothing further. Despite his hunger, he only drank some juice and water. Alhaji Ismail and Al-Amin ate and left for the mosque at the gate.
They returned together after prayer, along with Malam Bukar, who was also the mosque’s imam.
After exchanging fresh greetings, Al-Amin didn’t return with them.
Breaking the News
With great courage, Alhaji Sulaiman began speaking to Malam Bukar,
“Please forgive us for what we’ve come to say. I swear, if it weren’t for this household, I would never have returned to this town.”
He fell silent, unable to continue due to the lump in his throat.
Alhaji Jafar suddenly felt something shoot up from his feet—an inexplicable fear and anxiety. Silence fell on the room.
Malam Bukar eventually spoke,
“Alhaji, please say what it is. Life is full of ups and downs, and any sincere Muslim knows everything happens by Allah’s decree. It’s okay. We are one family.”
Alhaji Ismail took over, seeing that his elder brother could not go on.
“Please forgive us, Malam. Regarding the planned marriage between our son and your daughter, a serious issue has arisen in the past three days. His mother has firmly refused to let him marry Zahra. No matter what we did to change her mind, it didn’t work. In fact, she swore that if Musbahu marries Zahra, she would never forgive him—not even for the milk she nursed him with.”
Alhaji Jafar kept repeating “Innalillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un”, overwhelmed. Every time this marriage topic came up, something happened to ruin it. He was exhausted and confused.
Malam Bukar was equally speechless. Alhaji Sulaiman and the others kept apologizing.
With patience and wisdom, Malam Bukar finally said,
“Alhaji, don’t worry. Everything is Allah’s will. Perhaps Allah didn’t decree him to be her husband. May it be for the best for both of them.”
They all responded with “Ameen.”
Still, Alhaji Ismail added,
“But honestly, this is heartbreaking. Before anyone finds another woman like her, it will take a long time.”
They escorted their guests to the car. Even as they left, the guests continued apologizing.
Back at Malam Bukar’s House
After they left, everyone returned inside with heavy hearts.
“This must be fate,” someone said. “This is the third time a marriage for this girl has been cancelled.”
Alhaji Jafar turned to Malam Bukar and said with resolve,
“Malam, InshaAllah, this time I will marry off Fatima. I can’t keep watching this. Whatever it takes, I’ll make sure it happens.”
Malam Bukar shook his head. He knew something strange was going on. He had always suspected there were enemies involved, but he thought the problems had passed.
He replied gently,
“Alhaji, please don’t act out of anger. Don’t make a decision you might regret.”
Alhaji Jafar sat down, exhaling deeply.
“It’s not anger at Allah’s will. I’m just tired of this endless cycle. Every time, I’m made to look like a fool. People insult me, saying because she’s not my biological daughter, I watch her suffer in silence. If I hadn’t vowed to stop arranging cousin marriages, I would’ve married her to Abdul Hakeem already. But it’s not too late. Ask Mahmud, your student, if he’s interested—I’ll give her to him.”
Shocked, Malam Bukar asked,
“Which Mahmud? The one from here?”
“Yes, that one,” Alhaji Jafar replied.
“There’s no other Mahmud here, but Alhaji, the matter of Mahmud is not hidden. Don’t let the world mock us.”
Alhaji leaned forward and said,
“Wallahi, Malam, I’m not afraid of what people will say. I admire his composure. If this hasn’t worked out before, then perhaps Allah did not will the others to be her husband. I’ve long had an interest in him marrying one of my daughters.”
Malam nodded in deep thought. He had long suspected that Zahra’s true husband was not near, and he had often sent students to make special prayers for her.
At the Bridal Shower
Zahra descended the stairs gracefully, like royalty. Her face was beautifully made up, carrying a small purse in her hand. Two other girls followed her, also dressed elegantly. Even before they reached the room, her calming fragrance filled the air.
The sitting room was full of people, mostly women and children. One woman rushed over, offering warm congratulations.
“Masha Allah, may Allah protect you from evil and bless your marriage. Beautiful bride, the pride of Mubi, descendant of the Arabs of Jordan and Medina. Such beauty runs deep!”
Another woman stood up to give the speaker money, while continuing to sing Zahra’s praises.
Aunty Hasana appeared from the corridor, observing her younger sister with awe and glorifying Allah for such beauty.
Zahra smiled lightly and joked,
“Baba Tabawa, since when did you become a praise singer without telling me?”
The woman laughed,
“Well, even if I didn’t know how, I learned it for you. This is your wedding after all—your big day!”
Everyone burst into laughter. Hasana and Baba Tabawa accompanied Zahra to the bridal shower venue.
They had fun, took pictures, and enjoyed themselves. But anyone who truly knew Zahra could tell she wasn’t at peace. She felt an uneasiness she couldn’t explain. Since the previous day, she had tried reaching Mushahu with no success—even his friend Deeni hadn’t responded. Yet they were supposed to arrive today and already had hotel keys.
Zahra’s Fears and Confession
After the event ended around 9 PM, Zahra didn’t return upstairs to her reserved room. Instead, she went to Aunty Hasana’s bedroom. The room was peaceful, filled with the scent of incense and freshener, and the cool air of the AC.
She removed her headband and lay on the bed, completely drained, barely moving.
Some time later, she heard the door open but didn’t look up. She knew it was her Aunty by the scent.
Hasana sat beside her, touched her neck, and asked,
“What’s wrong with you? I’ve been watching your mood all day, and you're clearly not okay.”
Zahra sat up slowly, tears filling her eyes.
“I don’t even know what’s wrong with me, Aunty. My heart is heavy and keeps racing.”
She broke into quiet sobs.
“There’s nothing to cry about! You should be happy—this is your wedding! Not like the previous times.”
She buried her head in Hasana’s arms and cried until she could speak again.
“Aunty, I swear, I feel like something will go wrong again. I even had the same dream I always have before my weddings get cancelled.”
Hasana stared at her in fear. She wondered—could Zahra have unknowingly been married to a spirit?
She swallowed her fears and tried to reassure her.
“Zahra, don’t say such things. Just pray—this time will be different. Wait till tomorrow. Maybe they’ve been delayed. For now, go pray, eat, and check your messages.”
At Malam Bukar’s School
After the isha'i prayer, Malam and his senior students gathered for Hadith and Fiqh lessons in his well-furnished main hall. After the session, they ate dinner, as was the routine.
The school had improved greatly—it now had proper hostels, classrooms, vocational centers, and provided meals. The students didn’t have to beg anymore, and teachers handled both Islamic and secular education, from primary to senior secondary levels. The school was supported by an NGO.
As Mahmud and Habib were about to leave, Malam cleared his throat. Both turned. Malam signaled Mahmud to stay while Habib left.
Mahmud sat close to Malam respectfully, folding his legs.
Malam stared at him silently for nearly three minutes before saying:
“Mahmud…”
“Yes, Malam,” he responded.
“Do you know why I called you?”
“No, Malam.”
In a solemn tone, Malam said,
“A heavy responsibility has been placed upon me—one I don’t even know how to begin explaining.”
Mahmud adjusted his sitting posture and looked Malam in the eye:
“Malam, whatever it is, please tell me. I will obey you, InshaAllah.”