Slowly, she raised her head slightly from the side and looked at the office door that had just been knocked on. Without moving, she shifted her eyes away from the door, exhaling softly, the hidden sigh revealing her exhaustion and the weight of ABBAS LAMIDO’s matters. Even without being told, she knew that if it wasn’t him, then whoever it was had something related to Abbas’ name in it.
The door was pushed open and someone walked in. Without raising her head, the sound of footsteps made her realize it was Sarah, so she closed her eyes again, then slowly lifted her head, taking her hand off the laptop she had been working on. She placed it aside, adjusted her sitting position, picked up the water she had earlier removed from the fridge to reduce the cold, opened the bottle, and drank almost half before keeping the rest. She asked softly:
“Sarah, is there something?”
At that point, Sarah came forward and sat on the visitor’s chair facing NAJMA who waited for her to speak. Sarah let out a sigh before speaking directly:
“Naj, before you arrived, Chairman Abbas came to this office twice. And honestly, I didn’t see him looking healthy in his mood. I can say he was not himself at all.”
At that, NAJMA ABDULLAHI BELA raised her tired, pale eyes, filled with worry, staring at Sarah for a long moment before letting out her own sigh. With her soft voice trying to hide her concern, she asked:
“What’s wrong with Abbas now?”
With careful expression, Sarah replied:
“From what I see, I believe it’s not far from yesterday’s matter when Dr. Sa’id came to see you. Because of his two visits, people are saying you went out together.”
Najma suddenly remembered yesterday when Dr. Sa’id came, and they went out together to attend his son’s school program in a nearby private school. She sighed, then picked up her phone to call him, for this time he even tried not to follow her home last night as he usually did.
She dialed his number, it rang until it ended without an answer. She called again, still no response. She tried a third time, but he didn’t pick. Frustrated, she dropped the phone beside her and looked at Sarah, saying:
“He’s not picking. Isn’t he in his office?”
Sarah replied:
“I don’t think he stepped out. Even before I came in, I saw his secretary heading to his office.”
Najma turned her pale eyes back to her phone which rang again—this time showing Hanifa’s name. She closed her eyes, sighing in relief because Hanifa Marshal Alfa never wasted time calling her whenever something happened, big or small. Najma looked at Sarah as if to ask:
“Did you tell her about Abbas’ search for me this morning?”
Sarah chuckled lightly, stood up, and said as she walked toward the door:
“Sorry ma’am, she called me herself and asked.”
She left, shutting the office door behind her, still smiling. But as she stepped aside from the doorway, she nearly bumped into Abbas who had just arrived in his elegant ash-colored suit. His tall, handsome presence, with a princely aura, made him striking.
Quickly, Sarah moved aside, smiling respectfully:
“Good morning, Chairman.”
He didn’t even glance at her. Abbas opened the office door bearing NAJMA BELA’s name and walked in, shutting it behind him.
Najma, still seated where Sarah had left her, didn’t turn because she already knew it was him. Instead, she softly closed her eyes, a habit of hers.
Abbas stood, staring at her beauty and calm demeanor—traits that always pulled him back to her, even when he vowed to let go. None of his wives could match Najma’s beauty, grace, or noble charm. If he had found another woman better, he would have left Najma long ago. But she had utterly possessed his mind, despite his wealth and dignity. He had reduced himself to a mere shadow at ALFA’S, all because of her, whom many saw as nothing but the close friend of Marshal Alfa’s daughter.
Even though she tolerated his behaviors with patience, Abbas couldn’t keep quiet, not with the intense jealousy burning within him. He moved closer, and Najma, sensing the silence was too long, lifted her eyes slightly and asked calmly:
“Is there something wrong?”
Frowning with bitterness, Abbas closed his eyes briefly, then snatched the phone from her hand, slammed it on the chair, and with anger said:
“I’ve asked countless times! What is this hidden relationship you have with that doctor? Why do you keep silent every time I question it? Are you deceiving him with your beauty? Or is there something I don’t know?”
She fixed her wide, fierce eyes on him, full of pain at his insulting words, unworthy of someone he claimed he wanted to marry. She stood up, picked her bag without a word, and walked out. Abbas remained standing, watching her go, his heart burning like fire.
Najma Leaves in Anger
As she stepped out, Sarah rushed from her desk but quickly realized Najma’s mood. She knew well that whenever it involved Abbas, a fight was inevitable. Najma, without glancing at her, said in a heavy tone:
“Sarah, gather the files I left on the table with my laptop and bring them home later.”
“Okay Naj, may God protect your way.” Sarah replied.
Najma left the building, hailed a taxi, and entered. Usually, Abbas drove her to and from work, but whenever they quarreled, she used her private taxi driver. She sighed, thinking about how their marriage would be impossible—how could she marry a man who never valued her dignity? She feared that Abbas’ jealousy and temper would ruin her life despite his love.
She knew Abbas loved her beauty and only wanted her as a trophy wife, but she doubted if his anger wouldn’t destroy everything. Still, rejecting his marriage would cause serious problems with her mother, grandmother, and her step-grandfather, the old man married to her mother after her father’s death. Refusing Abbas now would be her fourth or fifth broken engagement.
“We’ve arrived, Hajiya,” the taxi driver, Malam Hafiz, said as he parked in front of Marshal Alfa’s grand house guarded by four soldiers.
Najma stepped out gracefully, paid him a thousand naira, and said:
“Thank you, Malam Hafiz.”
She turned toward the small family house nearby, separated slightly from Alfa’s mansion. The soldiers greeted her:
“Welcome, Ms. Naj.”
She smiled softly:
“Thank you, may your work be easy.”
At Home with Family
Najma entered their family compound. She first passed the elder’s section, then went straight to her mother’s side. On the way, she met Umma Habiba sitting outside her section, selling small atamfa fabrics while on the phone, with her younger daughter Asmau beside her, arranging clothes.
Asma’u greeted respectfully:
“Anty Naj, welcome back.”
“Thank you, Asmau. Greet Umma for me when she finishes her call.” Najma said.
Umma Habiba only lifted her hand as a reply but followed Najma with a scornful look, displeased with Najma’s career and her repeated failed engagements.
Najma entered her mother’s part of the house and found her counting the money from perfumes she sold, their strong scent filling the place. Najma greeted:
“Ummi, well done.”
Without looking up, her mother replied:
“Welcome. I see you returned early today. All well?”
Najma answered as she walked to her room:
“Yes, I just need to rest. I couldn’t sleep well last night.”
Her mother muttered sarcastically:
“Of course you couldn’t. Without a husband in the house, who would you chat with? You’re just like a big lump here.”
Anty Amina, Najma’s elder sister, spoke up gently:
“Umma, please stop saying such things in front of Zainab. She’s still young and may misunderstand.”
Umma shot her a sharp look and said:
“So how do you expect me to hide my frustration? You, your marriage failed, and you came back home with your daughter. Now Najma too can’t marry, she just works under men! That’s why I keep saying Hanifa is right—this job will never let Najma marry if she keeps thinking she’s equal to men.”
At that moment, Hanifa walked in with a smile and said:
“Umma, Naj will marry like everyone else. It’s just that her time hasn’t come yet.”
Still counting her money, Umma said:
“Maybe, but she should lower her pride and accept whoever proposes. That’s her dignity and mine too. At least I’ll stop hearing insults from Dattijo and Dada who think I caused her to keep rejecting men.”
Hanifa smiled calmly and replied:
“Umma, Naj will marry the right man, not just anyone. It’s not about her rejecting—it’s simply that the right one hasn’t appeared yet. When he does, everything will be fine. Honestly, I don’t know why you all keep worrying me about Naj.”
She walked to her room, greeting:
“Anty Amina, good afternoon.”
Amina smiled back, while Umma glared angrily, still burning inside about Najma’s unmarried state—though Najma herself seemed unbothered.
Description
Inside the Office
Slowly, she raised her head slightly from the side and looked at the office door that had just been knocked on. Without moving, she shifted her eyes away from the door, exhaling softly, the hidden sigh revealing her exhaustion and the weight of ABBAS LAMIDO’s matters. Even without being told, she knew that if it wasn’t him, then whoever it was had something related to Abbas’ name in it.
The door was pushed open and someone walked in. Without raising her head, the sound of footsteps made her realize it was Sarah, so she closed her eyes again, then slowly lifted her head, taking her hand off the laptop she had been working on. She placed it aside, adjusted her sitting position, picked up the water she had earlier removed from the fridge to reduce the cold, opened the bottle, and drank almost half before keeping the rest. She asked softly:
“Sarah, is there something?”
At that point, Sarah came forward and sat on the visitor’s chair facing NAJMA who waited for her to speak. Sarah let out a sigh before speaking directly:
“Naj, before you arrived, Chairman Abbas came to this office twice. And honestly, I didn’t see him looking healthy in his mood. I can say he was not himself at all.”
At that, NAJMA ABDULLAHI BELA raised her tired, pale eyes, filled with worry, staring at Sarah for a long moment before letting out her own sigh. With her soft voice trying to hide her concern, she asked:
“What’s wrong with Abbas now?”
With careful expression, Sarah replied:
“From what I see, I believe it’s not far from yesterday’s matter when Dr. Sa’id came to see you. Because of his two visits, people are saying you went out together.”
Najma suddenly remembered yesterday when Dr. Sa’id came, and they went out together to attend his son’s school program in a nearby private school. She sighed, then picked up her phone to call him, for this time he even tried not to follow her home last night as he usually did.
She dialed his number, it rang until it ended without an answer. She called again, still no response. She tried a third time, but he didn’t pick. Frustrated, she dropped the phone beside her and looked at Sarah, saying:
“He’s not picking. Isn’t he in his office?”
Sarah replied:
“I don’t think he stepped out. Even before I came in, I saw his secretary heading to his office.”
Najma turned her pale eyes back to her phone which rang again—this time showing Hanifa’s name. She closed her eyes, sighing in relief because Hanifa Marshal Alfa never wasted time calling her whenever something happened, big or small. Najma looked at Sarah as if to ask:
“Did you tell her about Abbas’ search for me this morning?”
Sarah chuckled lightly, stood up, and said as she walked toward the door:
“Sorry ma’am, she called me herself and asked.”
She left, shutting the office door behind her, still smiling. But as she stepped aside from the doorway, she nearly bumped into Abbas who had just arrived in his elegant ash-colored suit. His tall, handsome presence, with a princely aura, made him striking.
Quickly, Sarah moved aside, smiling respectfully:
“Good morning, Chairman.”
He didn’t even glance at her. Abbas opened the office door bearing NAJMA BELA’s name and walked in, shutting it behind him.
Najma, still seated where Sarah had left her, didn’t turn because she already knew it was him. Instead, she softly closed her eyes, a habit of hers.
Abbas stood, staring at her beauty and calm demeanor—traits that always pulled him back to her, even when he vowed to let go. None of his wives could match Najma’s beauty, grace, or noble charm. If he had found another woman better, he would have left Najma long ago. But she had utterly possessed his mind, despite his wealth and dignity. He had reduced himself to a mere shadow at ALFA’S, all because of her, whom many saw as nothing but the close friend of Marshal Alfa’s daughter.
Even though she tolerated his behaviors with patience, Abbas couldn’t keep quiet, not with the intense jealousy burning within him. He moved closer, and Najma, sensing the silence was too long, lifted her eyes slightly and asked calmly:
“Is there something wrong?”
Frowning with bitterness, Abbas closed his eyes briefly, then snatched the phone from her hand, slammed it on the chair, and with anger said:
“I’ve asked countless times! What is this hidden relationship you have with that doctor? Why do you keep silent every time I question it? Are you deceiving him with your beauty? Or is there something I don’t know?”
She fixed her wide, fierce eyes on him, full of pain at his insulting words, unworthy of someone he claimed he wanted to marry. She stood up, picked her bag without a word, and walked out. Abbas remained standing, watching her go, his heart burning like fire.
Najma Leaves in Anger
As she stepped out, Sarah rushed from her desk but quickly realized Najma’s mood. She knew well that whenever it involved Abbas, a fight was inevitable. Najma, without glancing at her, said in a heavy tone:
“Sarah, gather the files I left on the table with my laptop and bring them home later.”
“Okay Naj, may God protect your way.” Sarah replied.
Najma left the building, hailed a taxi, and entered. Usually, Abbas drove her to and from work, but whenever they quarreled, she used her private taxi driver. She sighed, thinking about how their marriage would be impossible—how could she marry a man who never valued her dignity? She feared that Abbas’ jealousy and temper would ruin her life despite his love.
She knew Abbas loved her beauty and only wanted her as a trophy wife, but she doubted if his anger wouldn’t destroy everything. Still, rejecting his marriage would cause serious problems with her mother, grandmother, and her step-grandfather, the old man married to her mother after her father’s death. Refusing Abbas now would be her fourth or fifth broken engagement.
“We’ve arrived, Hajiya,” the taxi driver, Malam Hafiz, said as he parked in front of Marshal Alfa’s grand house guarded by four soldiers.
Najma stepped out gracefully, paid him a thousand naira, and said:
“Thank you, Malam Hafiz.”
She turned toward the small family house nearby, separated slightly from Alfa’s mansion. The soldiers greeted her:
“Welcome, Ms. Naj.”
She smiled softly:
“Thank you, may your work be easy.”
At Home with Family
Najma entered their family compound. She first passed the elder’s section, then went straight to her mother’s side. On the way, she met Umma Habiba sitting outside her section, selling small atamfa fabrics while on the phone, with her younger daughter Asmau beside her, arranging clothes.
Asma’u greeted respectfully:
“Anty Naj, welcome back.”
“Thank you, Asmau. Greet Umma for me when she finishes her call.” Najma said.
Umma Habiba only lifted her hand as a reply but followed Najma with a scornful look, displeased with Najma’s career and her repeated failed engagements.
Najma entered her mother’s part of the house and found her counting the money from perfumes she sold, their strong scent filling the place. Najma greeted:
“Ummi, well done.”
Without looking up, her mother replied:
“Welcome. I see you returned early today. All well?”
Najma answered as she walked to her room:
“Yes, I just need to rest. I couldn’t sleep well last night.”
Her mother muttered sarcastically:
“Of course you couldn’t. Without a husband in the house, who would you chat with? You’re just like a big lump here.”
Anty Amina, Najma’s elder sister, spoke up gently:
“Umma, please stop saying such things in front of Zainab. She’s still young and may misunderstand.”
Umma shot her a sharp look and said:
“So how do you expect me to hide my frustration? You, your marriage failed, and you came back home with your daughter. Now Najma too can’t marry, she just works under men! That’s why I keep saying Hanifa is right—this job will never let Najma marry if she keeps thinking she’s equal to men.”
At that moment, Hanifa walked in with a smile and said:
“Umma, Naj will marry like everyone else. It’s just that her time hasn’t come yet.”
Still counting her money, Umma said:
“Maybe, but she should lower her pride and accept whoever proposes. That’s her dignity and mine too. At least I’ll stop hearing insults from Dattijo and Dada who think I caused her to keep rejecting men.”
Hanifa smiled calmly and replied:
“Umma, Naj will marry the right man, not just anyone. It’s not about her rejecting—it’s simply that the right one hasn’t appeared yet. When he does, everything will be fine. Honestly, I don’t know why you all keep worrying me about Naj.”
She walked to her room, greeting:
“Anty Amina, good afternoon.”
Amina smiled back, while Umma glared angrily, still burning inside about Najma’s unmarried state—though Najma herself seemed unbothered.