It was around 11:00 a.m. when the sun was already shining brightly, the kind of weather where the heat comes early in the day.
The loud scream I heard made me hurry toward the house to collect a report.
The house was a modest block building, with a red-painted iron door now turned brown from rust due to constant beating from rain.
A group of people sat under a small shed by the house, built right beside a jandi tree. One glance at them was enough to tell they were no good — their appearance revealed a life of drunkenness and drug use, and their loud quarrel showed they were in the middle of a heated dispute.
The Violent Scene Inside
I went straight into the house to see who was screaming, and to my surprise, it was a beautiful woman, no more than 32–34 years old, with a girl of about 10 years old.
A man — clearly her husband and the girl’s father — was mercilessly beating them. His eyes and demeanor made it obvious he was not in his right mind.
The woman, “Mamah,” could only shed tears while the girl, Zahrah, refused to remain silent.
> “By Allah, we will never forgive you! Wicked oppressor!” Zahrah shouted.
The man, about 45 years old, stared at her in shock. He was used to Zahrah’s boldness but never imagined she would talk back this much, especially to an elder like him.
Seeing his silence, Zahrah wiped her tears and glared at him.
> “By Allah, Uncle, you will never enter Paradise unless you repent. We have done you no wrong, yet you beat us like this. Allah will repay us…”
Before she could finish, she was slapped across the mouth. She wasn’t surprised — this was typical of Mamah’s husband. Despite their innocence, he would beat them, and even stop them from crying afterward.
Dragged Away
“Zahrah, why are you so disrespectful? He is your father’s brother!” Mamah scolded as she dragged Zahrah into her room.
The man, still astonished at Zahrah’s defiance, did nothing until they disappeared inside, then stormed out toward the shed outside the gate, fuming.
A Bitter Conversation Among Troublemakers
The men outside laughed wildly until the man — Uncle Ale Idrisu — silenced them with an angry glare.
> “Ale Idrisu, don’t embarrass us. You said you would throw them out, but now you’re back,” Baba Mola teased.
Lowering his voice, Ale Idrisu said,
> “It’s that cursed girl stopping me from having my way, but I will deal with her.”
Baba Mola smirked.
> “Don’t worry. My advice — just get her and take her to the women’s house. Once she’s used to that life, your problem will be solved. Or have you forgotten your promise to the boss?”
Just then Zahrah walked past them, glaring and spitting on the ground before heading to her friend Amira’s house. Ale Idrisu frowned, returning his focus to Baba Mola.
Another man, a stranger, licked his lips and said,
> “Boss, I want that girl in two or three years. She’s beautiful — anyone would desire her.”
Ale Idrisu barked back,
> “Are you mad? She’s barely ten! And despite my dislike for her, she belongs to a wealthy man — she’s an investment for me. Stay away from her!”
Zahrah’s Street Encounter
Skipping along as usual, Zahrah came across some children playing. When one threw sand at her, she caught him and began beating him mercilessly. A passing old man tried to intervene but failed to free the boy.
Just then, a tinted Mercedes Benz pulled up. A well-dressed young man stepped out and walked toward her. Without a word, he grabbed her hand to pull her aside. She tried to break free, but his calm yet commanding presence made her stop.
> “Let him go,” he said, then lifted the dusty boy to his feet.
The boy quickly ran home without a word.
A New Character: Ishaq
The young man, Ishaq — only son of a Chancellor, a Mass Communication graduate about to leave for America for his Master’s degree — looked at Zahrah with admiration. He liked girls with courage.
> “What’s your name, young lady?”
“Zahrah,” she replied.
> “Nice name. Which class are you in? And why aren’t you in school on a Monday?”
Zahrah avoided answering in English to hide her lack of fluency.
> “Nothing’s happening in school today, so I’m going to Amira’s house.”
> “Who’s Amira?”
“My friend.”
> “Alright, I’ll take you there. Show me the way.”
She hesitated — Mamah had warned her never to get into strangers’ cars — but Ishaq crouched down, smiled warmly, and said,
> “Think of me as your big brother. I won’t harm you.”
Satisfied, she nodded and got in.
The Offer
As they drove, Ishaq asked,
> “Do you want me to change your school?”
Excited, she nodded immediately.
> “Alright, but you must stop saying things like the ones I heard earlier.”
> “I’ve stopped, from today,” she assured.
When he asked about her father, she revealed,
> “My father is dead. I live with my uncle and Mamah, but my uncle hates us and always beats us.”
Surprised, Ishaq said,
> “Then I’ll meet your Mamah.”
They reached Amira’s house.
> “When will you go home?”
“In the evening — I’ll go to the market to help Mamah.”
> “I’ll come in the evening then, and we’ll go see her.”
Zahrah ran off without thanking him, while Ishaq remained thoughtful, deciding to help change her life.
Description
A Sunny Morning Encounter
It was around 11:00 a.m. when the sun was already shining brightly, the kind of weather where the heat comes early in the day.
The loud scream I heard made me hurry toward the house to collect a report.
The house was a modest block building, with a red-painted iron door now turned brown from rust due to constant beating from rain.
A group of people sat under a small shed by the house, built right beside a jandi tree. One glance at them was enough to tell they were no good — their appearance revealed a life of drunkenness and drug use, and their loud quarrel showed they were in the middle of a heated dispute.
The Violent Scene Inside
I went straight into the house to see who was screaming, and to my surprise, it was a beautiful woman, no more than 32–34 years old, with a girl of about 10 years old.
A man — clearly her husband and the girl’s father — was mercilessly beating them. His eyes and demeanor made it obvious he was not in his right mind.
The woman, “Mamah,” could only shed tears while the girl, Zahrah, refused to remain silent.
> “By Allah, we will never forgive you! Wicked oppressor!” Zahrah shouted.
The man, about 45 years old, stared at her in shock. He was used to Zahrah’s boldness but never imagined she would talk back this much, especially to an elder like him.
Seeing his silence, Zahrah wiped her tears and glared at him.
> “By Allah, Uncle, you will never enter Paradise unless you repent. We have done you no wrong, yet you beat us like this. Allah will repay us…”
Before she could finish, she was slapped across the mouth. She wasn’t surprised — this was typical of Mamah’s husband. Despite their innocence, he would beat them, and even stop them from crying afterward.
Dragged Away
“Zahrah, why are you so disrespectful? He is your father’s brother!” Mamah scolded as she dragged Zahrah into her room.
The man, still astonished at Zahrah’s defiance, did nothing until they disappeared inside, then stormed out toward the shed outside the gate, fuming.
A Bitter Conversation Among Troublemakers
The men outside laughed wildly until the man — Uncle Ale Idrisu — silenced them with an angry glare.
> “Ale Idrisu, don’t embarrass us. You said you would throw them out, but now you’re back,” Baba Mola teased.
Lowering his voice, Ale Idrisu said,
> “It’s that cursed girl stopping me from having my way, but I will deal with her.”
Baba Mola smirked.
> “Don’t worry. My advice — just get her and take her to the women’s house. Once she’s used to that life, your problem will be solved. Or have you forgotten your promise to the boss?”
Just then Zahrah walked past them, glaring and spitting on the ground before heading to her friend Amira’s house. Ale Idrisu frowned, returning his focus to Baba Mola.
Another man, a stranger, licked his lips and said,
> “Boss, I want that girl in two or three years. She’s beautiful — anyone would desire her.”
Ale Idrisu barked back,
> “Are you mad? She’s barely ten! And despite my dislike for her, she belongs to a wealthy man — she’s an investment for me. Stay away from her!”
Zahrah’s Street Encounter
Skipping along as usual, Zahrah came across some children playing. When one threw sand at her, she caught him and began beating him mercilessly. A passing old man tried to intervene but failed to free the boy.
Just then, a tinted Mercedes Benz pulled up. A well-dressed young man stepped out and walked toward her. Without a word, he grabbed her hand to pull her aside. She tried to break free, but his calm yet commanding presence made her stop.
> “Let him go,” he said, then lifted the dusty boy to his feet.
The boy quickly ran home without a word.
A New Character: Ishaq
The young man, Ishaq — only son of a Chancellor, a Mass Communication graduate about to leave for America for his Master’s degree — looked at Zahrah with admiration. He liked girls with courage.
> “What’s your name, young lady?”
“Zahrah,” she replied.
> “Nice name. Which class are you in? And why aren’t you in school on a Monday?”
Zahrah avoided answering in English to hide her lack of fluency.
> “Nothing’s happening in school today, so I’m going to Amira’s house.”
> “Who’s Amira?”
“My friend.”
> “Alright, I’ll take you there. Show me the way.”
She hesitated — Mamah had warned her never to get into strangers’ cars — but Ishaq crouched down, smiled warmly, and said,
> “Think of me as your big brother. I won’t harm you.”
Satisfied, she nodded and got in.
The Offer
As they drove, Ishaq asked,
> “Do you want me to change your school?”
Excited, she nodded immediately.
> “Alright, but you must stop saying things like the ones I heard earlier.”
> “I’ve stopped, from today,” she assured.
When he asked about her father, she revealed,
> “My father is dead. I live with my uncle and Mamah, but my uncle hates us and always beats us.”
Surprised, Ishaq said,
> “Then I’ll meet your Mamah.”
They reached Amira’s house.
> “When will you go home?”
“In the evening — I’ll go to the market to help Mamah.”
> “I’ll come in the evening then, and we’ll go see her.”
Zahrah ran off without thanking him, while Ishaq remained thoughtful, deciding to help change her life.