Fadeela, who was behind Aysha, spoke up, “Gwaggo! So you’re the one who’s been unwell? Where did Mama see you?” She asked several questions at once.
Gwaggo Bintu struggled to breathe as she gave a weak smile to Fadeela. Aysha, however, couldn’t say a word—she felt as if ending Gwaggo Bintu’s life would make everyone finally be at peace.
Suddenly, her phone flashed with a bright notification, followed by a message. She quickly pulled her phone from her handbag and read it:
> “Don’t do anything that will make it seem like your aunt has done something evil to you. That will ruin our mission. Act normal around her for your sister’s sake. Don’t ruin my plan.”
The sender’s number was hidden. Aysha read the message twice in shock and whispered, “Who could this be?”
Just then, Gwaggo Bintu’s weak voice came through: “Aysha, is it really you? You came back to us?” she said, bursting into tears.
Aysha rushed to hug her tightly. Taking advantage of Fadeela’s distraction, Aysha whispered in her ear:
> “Gwaggo, please don’t show any sign that might reveal you helped save my life. If you do, they’ll kill you. Just act happy that I’m back from school. May Allah turn the injustice you did to me into something good through my education.”
Fadeela and the others, unaware of the secret between them, began comforting both women. Fadeela gently pulled Aysha away from Gwaggo Bintu, still apologizing.
Gwaggo Bintu’s body trembled—Aysha’s words pierced deep into her heart. She regretted her past choices. She had betrayed a relative, and now, her own daughter had made her suffer for it. Since her stay in the hospital, none of Hajia Babba’s people had come to check on her. Not even one visit. It finally hit her that she had made a terrible mistake.
Aysha noticed her tears but said nothing. Later, she pulled Bishirah aside.
“Bishirah, since I left the house, what happened?” Aysha asked.
Bishirah sighed. “A lot has happened. Alhaji married another wife.” She told Aysha everything—from Gwaggo Bintu’s trip to Lagos to her falling sick and ending up in the hospital.
Aysha shook her head. “May Allah make it easy.”
Then she shared her own painful story. Bishirah cried hard, even sniffling, when Aysha revealed that Alhaji’s new wife was actually her mother.
“Do you know why I told you my secret, Bishirah?” Aysha asked.
“No, tell me,” Bishirah replied.
“Because I need your help. Please, keep my secret. I plan to take revenge on Hajia Babba and her people, but I’ll need some information from her first.”
“What kind of help do you want me to give?”
“Come closer,” Aysha said quietly.
She whispered something into Bishirah’s ear—something only the two of them knew.
They continued talking about life, plans for Bishirah’s wedding, and how to handle everything wisely. When they noticed Fadeela walking toward them, they stood up laughing.
Aysha said playfully, “Sorry, Sister Fadeela, we left you alone. It’s been so long since we met!”
Fadeela said nothing, just turned and walked away, and they followed behind.
They didn’t stay long before saying their goodbyes. Gwaggo Bintu was also expected to be discharged that evening.
The Gunfire and Khalil’s Wounds
A loud gunshot startled everyone, making them realize danger was near. Barau Modibbo’s oldest boy peeped through the window and froze when he saw security officers outside. He tried to run but was immediately shot in the leg by Joseph.
Khalil, who had been hiding nearby, rushed out—only to feel a bullet graze his left arm. He gripped it tightly and looked in the direction the shot came from—it was Barau Modibbo, who had aimed at his chest. Luckily, Khalil’s bulletproof vest stopped the bullet.
Barau Modibbo quickly ran into another room. Khalil and his men chased him despite the pain and the blood soaking through his yellow shirt. But Barau disappeared—vanished without a trace.
They searched the house, turning everything upside down, but found nothing. He had slipped through a small back door meant for emergencies.
Later, Khalil realized where he had escaped from and said weakly, “Taheer, I think he went through here…” His vision blurred as he spoke, blood still dripping from his arm.
Adams rushed to his side. Youssef tore a bed sheet and handed it to Adams, who tied it around Khalil’s arm to stop the bleeding. They quickly left the house with the captured men and the dead bodies of those Khalil had shot.
They called Dr. Abraham, who told them to meet him at the General Hospital since the boss had been shot.
Adams nodded. “Let’s move, Emmanuel!”
When they reached the hospital, Ramadan was about to drive out but stopped when he saw Khalil’s car. “Wait—this is Khalil’s car!” he said, hitting the brakes.
Aysha’s heart dropped, remembering the look on his face when he left earlier. They all rushed out. Ramadan ran toward the car and found Khalil barely conscious.
Ramadan held him. “Khalil! Are you okay?”
With his usual bravery, Khalil said, “Take me inside… through the back. I don’t want to alarm them. It’s just a gunshot.”
They entered quietly. Aysha and Fadeela followed, anxious and trembling. Dr. Abraham soon arrived with Adams.
Everyone left the room to give the doctor space. Khalil sat leaning against the chair, eyes half-shut. The doctor worked fast. Khalil remained strong, only clenching his jaw occasionally until the bullet was finally removed.
Sweat poured from his face like rain, despite the air conditioning. After giving him a sedative, Dr. Abraham finally convinced him to lie down and rest.
Outside, Aysha and the others paced anxiously. Soon, Baffah and Ramadan arrived. “What happened to Mu’azzam?” Baffah demanded. Adams explained everything until the doctor came out.
Dr. Abraham said calmly, “The bullet has been removed. He’s resting now. He’ll be fine.”
Everyone sighed in relief—except Aysha, who couldn’t stop crying. Baffah moved closer, comforting her gently, telling her to pray instead of weep.
Five hours later, Khalil woke up. The IV had run out. Because of the tension earlier, most of the household had gone home. It was already time for the night prayer.
Baffah had instructed Ramadan to take Aysha and Fadeela home.
At home, everyone sat quietly in the living room, except Hajia Babba, who stayed alone in her section after hearing about Khalil’s injury.
When Khalil entered, everyone stood up, rushing toward him. He smiled faintly. “Relax, everyone—I’m fine now.”
They nodded quietly. Anty Mamie brought him a cup of tea. He accepted it with a smile, “Thank you, my Mamie.”
As he drank, his eyes scanned the family members—everyone was there, even Hajia Babba, though she looked unusually calm. She kept glancing at him nervously.
He noticed her hiding behind Umme Amarya and smirked to himself. My troublemaker… what’s wrong with you today?
Aysha, not knowing he was looking at her, raised her eyes slightly—and their gazes met. She quickly looked away, pouting. He turned his face aside too, murmuring softly, “Still stubborn as ever.”
“What did you say?” Hajia Babba asked sharply.
“Nothing, Mom. I just need to perform my prayers,” he replied.
She nodded, still watching him. When he left, she followed, bringing him water for his bath and fussing over him—something she had never done before.
Khalil found it strange. Why is Mom acting this way? She’s never done this, even when I was injured before. But he said nothing and went to take his bath.
Khalil recovered quickly. He received special care from his mother, Anty Mamie, and everyone else.
Aysha, however, didn’t visit him for two days straight.
At work, everyone had heard about the incident. His superiors and subordinates all came to check on him.
Meanwhile, Gwaggo Bintu was finally discharged from the hospital. Mama personally told Baffah the full truth about her relationship with Gwaggo Bintu, shocking him deeply.
He decided, “She shouldn’t be treated as a servant anymore. She’s family—she should be free.”
Mama was overjoyed. That was what she had been praying for all along.
Description
The Hidden Message and Gwaggo Bintu’s Regret
Fadeela, who was behind Aysha, spoke up, “Gwaggo! So you’re the one who’s been unwell? Where did Mama see you?” She asked several questions at once.
Gwaggo Bintu struggled to breathe as she gave a weak smile to Fadeela. Aysha, however, couldn’t say a word—she felt as if ending Gwaggo Bintu’s life would make everyone finally be at peace.
Suddenly, her phone flashed with a bright notification, followed by a message. She quickly pulled her phone from her handbag and read it:
> “Don’t do anything that will make it seem like your aunt has done something evil to you. That will ruin our mission. Act normal around her for your sister’s sake. Don’t ruin my plan.”
The sender’s number was hidden. Aysha read the message twice in shock and whispered, “Who could this be?”
Just then, Gwaggo Bintu’s weak voice came through: “Aysha, is it really you? You came back to us?” she said, bursting into tears.
Aysha rushed to hug her tightly. Taking advantage of Fadeela’s distraction, Aysha whispered in her ear:
> “Gwaggo, please don’t show any sign that might reveal you helped save my life. If you do, they’ll kill you. Just act happy that I’m back from school. May Allah turn the injustice you did to me into something good through my education.”
Fadeela and the others, unaware of the secret between them, began comforting both women. Fadeela gently pulled Aysha away from Gwaggo Bintu, still apologizing.
Gwaggo Bintu’s body trembled—Aysha’s words pierced deep into her heart. She regretted her past choices. She had betrayed a relative, and now, her own daughter had made her suffer for it. Since her stay in the hospital, none of Hajia Babba’s people had come to check on her. Not even one visit. It finally hit her that she had made a terrible mistake.
Aysha noticed her tears but said nothing. Later, she pulled Bishirah aside.
“Bishirah, since I left the house, what happened?” Aysha asked.
Bishirah sighed. “A lot has happened. Alhaji married another wife.” She told Aysha everything—from Gwaggo Bintu’s trip to Lagos to her falling sick and ending up in the hospital.
Aysha shook her head. “May Allah make it easy.”
Then she shared her own painful story. Bishirah cried hard, even sniffling, when Aysha revealed that Alhaji’s new wife was actually her mother.
“Do you know why I told you my secret, Bishirah?” Aysha asked.
“No, tell me,” Bishirah replied.
“Because I need your help. Please, keep my secret. I plan to take revenge on Hajia Babba and her people, but I’ll need some information from her first.”
“What kind of help do you want me to give?”
“Come closer,” Aysha said quietly.
She whispered something into Bishirah’s ear—something only the two of them knew.
They continued talking about life, plans for Bishirah’s wedding, and how to handle everything wisely. When they noticed Fadeela walking toward them, they stood up laughing.
Aysha said playfully, “Sorry, Sister Fadeela, we left you alone. It’s been so long since we met!”
Fadeela said nothing, just turned and walked away, and they followed behind.
They didn’t stay long before saying their goodbyes. Gwaggo Bintu was also expected to be discharged that evening.
The Gunfire and Khalil’s Wounds
A loud gunshot startled everyone, making them realize danger was near. Barau Modibbo’s oldest boy peeped through the window and froze when he saw security officers outside. He tried to run but was immediately shot in the leg by Joseph.
Khalil, who had been hiding nearby, rushed out—only to feel a bullet graze his left arm. He gripped it tightly and looked in the direction the shot came from—it was Barau Modibbo, who had aimed at his chest. Luckily, Khalil’s bulletproof vest stopped the bullet.
Barau Modibbo quickly ran into another room. Khalil and his men chased him despite the pain and the blood soaking through his yellow shirt. But Barau disappeared—vanished without a trace.
They searched the house, turning everything upside down, but found nothing. He had slipped through a small back door meant for emergencies.
Later, Khalil realized where he had escaped from and said weakly, “Taheer, I think he went through here…” His vision blurred as he spoke, blood still dripping from his arm.
Adams rushed to his side. Youssef tore a bed sheet and handed it to Adams, who tied it around Khalil’s arm to stop the bleeding. They quickly left the house with the captured men and the dead bodies of those Khalil had shot.
They called Dr. Abraham, who told them to meet him at the General Hospital since the boss had been shot.
Adams nodded. “Let’s move, Emmanuel!”
When they reached the hospital, Ramadan was about to drive out but stopped when he saw Khalil’s car. “Wait—this is Khalil’s car!” he said, hitting the brakes.
Aysha’s heart dropped, remembering the look on his face when he left earlier. They all rushed out. Ramadan ran toward the car and found Khalil barely conscious.
Ramadan held him. “Khalil! Are you okay?”
With his usual bravery, Khalil said, “Take me inside… through the back. I don’t want to alarm them. It’s just a gunshot.”
They entered quietly. Aysha and Fadeela followed, anxious and trembling. Dr. Abraham soon arrived with Adams.
Everyone left the room to give the doctor space. Khalil sat leaning against the chair, eyes half-shut. The doctor worked fast. Khalil remained strong, only clenching his jaw occasionally until the bullet was finally removed.
Sweat poured from his face like rain, despite the air conditioning. After giving him a sedative, Dr. Abraham finally convinced him to lie down and rest.
Outside, Aysha and the others paced anxiously. Soon, Baffah and Ramadan arrived. “What happened to Mu’azzam?” Baffah demanded. Adams explained everything until the doctor came out.
Dr. Abraham said calmly, “The bullet has been removed. He’s resting now. He’ll be fine.”
Everyone sighed in relief—except Aysha, who couldn’t stop crying. Baffah moved closer, comforting her gently, telling her to pray instead of weep.
Five hours later, Khalil woke up. The IV had run out. Because of the tension earlier, most of the household had gone home. It was already time for the night prayer.
Baffah had instructed Ramadan to take Aysha and Fadeela home.
At home, everyone sat quietly in the living room, except Hajia Babba, who stayed alone in her section after hearing about Khalil’s injury.
When Khalil entered, everyone stood up, rushing toward him. He smiled faintly. “Relax, everyone—I’m fine now.”
They nodded quietly. Anty Mamie brought him a cup of tea. He accepted it with a smile, “Thank you, my Mamie.”
As he drank, his eyes scanned the family members—everyone was there, even Hajia Babba, though she looked unusually calm. She kept glancing at him nervously.
He noticed her hiding behind Umme Amarya and smirked to himself. My troublemaker… what’s wrong with you today?
Aysha, not knowing he was looking at her, raised her eyes slightly—and their gazes met. She quickly looked away, pouting. He turned his face aside too, murmuring softly, “Still stubborn as ever.”
“What did you say?” Hajia Babba asked sharply.
“Nothing, Mom. I just need to perform my prayers,” he replied.
She nodded, still watching him. When he left, she followed, bringing him water for his bath and fussing over him—something she had never done before.
Khalil found it strange. Why is Mom acting this way? She’s never done this, even when I was injured before. But he said nothing and went to take his bath.
Khalil recovered quickly. He received special care from his mother, Anty Mamie, and everyone else.
Aysha, however, didn’t visit him for two days straight.
At work, everyone had heard about the incident. His superiors and subordinates all came to check on him.
Meanwhile, Gwaggo Bintu was finally discharged from the hospital. Mama personally told Baffah the full truth about her relationship with Gwaggo Bintu, shocking him deeply.
He decided, “She shouldn’t be treated as a servant anymore. She’s family—she should be free.”
Mama was overjoyed. That was what she had been praying for all along.