He lay there half-awake on a king-size bed Nigerians call a “6-by-6.” The mattress was extremely soft, the white bedsheet spotless and smooth — one glance and you’d know its quality. The way he breathed heavily, sweat glistening on his chest, told clearly that he had just finished a rigorous workout. He wore a small JC-brand short that stopped midway on his thighs, paired with a t-shirt, and his feet were in the kind of sneakers footballers are known for. His upper body rested on the bed while his legs sprawled on the floor.
He exhaled sharply and opened his eyes — hazel-brown, intense, and devoid of any cheer. His face looked harder than before, no trace of the lively man people used to know. With renewed energy that showed the strength of a fit body, he sat up and let out a slight hiss, frowning as he removed his shoes. Dropping them aside, he stood up fully, yanked off his shirt angrily, and tossed it to the floor.
He walked to a long glass wall that served as a partition in his elegant bedroom. He pressed a green button beside it, and the glass slid open slowly, revealing a modern bathroom so luxurious that even an outsider would be impressed. He stepped inside briskly, still looking tense, and stood under the shower. As the cold water poured over his head, he let out a deep sigh from his chest.
That was Aliyu Mika’il Idris Mawashi, known in the football world as Smart Mawashi.
Though it had only been three months since he moved back to the UK and signed with the Queen City Club in London, everyone hoped this small club would be his stepping stone to greatness. But Smart — once quiet, reserved, and gentle — had changed. Silence had turned to arrogance; gentleness, to indifference.
The cause was not far-fetched — painful events in the past three months had shattered him at the height of his career and happiness. Just when he had built the foundation of a bright future with the woman he loved, life rewrote his story.
When he had finally decided to trust completely, to hand his life and loyalty to her, everything collapsed. His wife left him — on the very day his dream of becoming an international footballer came true.
Now, as he sat under the shower, memories returned vividly, piece by piece — the day she disappeared.
---
The Day Lulu Left
That day, he had gone home from training weighed down with guilt over how he had treated Lulu. He found his mother, Ammah, and his sister Maryam at home; Asma’u had gone on an errand to Aunty Bilkisu’s house. He greeted Ammah briefly and said he came to take Maryam home because Mawaddat (his wife, Lulu) was sick. Ammah was alarmed — she didn’t even wait for Abba to return before telling Maryam to go with him, assuming Lulu might be pregnant.
Maryam packed quickly, grabbing a jar of groundnut pap they had made earlier since neither had eaten yet. The road was clear that morning, and soon they arrived at Aliyu’s house.
As soon as they saw the living room door open, and Lulu’s book lying at the entrance, his heart sank. Trying to stay calm, he told Maryam to sit in the parlor while he went to his bedroom.
Moments later, Maryam called him — panic in her voice. “Yaya, Aunty isn’t here. I checked the toilet and kitchen — no one’s inside. But the wardrobe’s been emptied, and a box is left behind as if someone was in a rush.”
Aliyu’s chest tightened. He rushed to the room — everything valuable was gone. His legs trembled, but he forced himself to remain composed. Then he saw a folded paper on the bed. Picking it up, he read:
> “I hate you, Aliyu. I never want to see you again. May God judge you — oppressor. So all your so-called preaching was fake? You don’t even live by your own words. Forget me forever, because I’ve made sure our paths will never cross again. If you suffer searching for me, that’s your choice. No one can make me return to you — not even Uncle Yousuf.”
His vision blurred; he dropped to his knees, muttering “Ya Allah…” over and over. Maryam entered, alarmed by his state, but he raised his hand and shouted at her to leave him alone. Frightened, she ran out.
Barely a minute later, her phone rang — it was Ahmad, their brother. She answered quickly and poured out everything that had happened. Ahmad was shocked and rushed over. When he arrived, Smart (Aliyu) was silent for a long time, then said bitterly, “She left.”
Ahmad tried to calm him, saying he would contact Uncle Yousuf. After several failed calls, the line finally connected. Uncle Yousuf was deeply worried and said he was on his way. He also called Aunty Saliha, who was already panicking after receiving a strange message earlier from Khadijah saying Lulu had fled and they shouldn’t look for her — threatening that if Aliyu didn’t divorce her officially, she’d make sure he suffered for it.
When Aunty Saliha and her driver rushed to Lulu’s street, they saw a black tinted car speeding away. The gate was left open, and a neighbor confirmed that a crying woman had been forced into a car with her luggage loaded into a Hilux.
When Uncle Yousuf heard this, he was devastated. He called Mommy, asking if Lulu had come home. Mommy was surprised and said no — Lulu had court that day. That news gave him a little relief, hoping she might be safe somewhere else.
Ahmad and Smart rushed to the court, accompanied by Aunty Saliha, but there was no sign of Lulu. Everyone began to panic.
That evening, a missing person report was filed at the police station. Smart didn’t eat the entire day — only water passed his lips. He was so pale that Coach had to force him to drink tea after Maghrib prayer. Moments later, he vomited and developed a high fever.
Ahmad and Abdull stayed with him overnight, while Ammah and Abba also visited in person, shaken by the situation. Meanwhile, Umma — the one who never liked Lulu — secretly rejoiced, believing this tragedy would lead to Smart’s downfall.
The Investigation and Betrayal
Days passed — no word from Lulu. Three days became five, and by then, Daddy and Uncle Yousuf had abandoned all their duties and returned to Nigeria. Even the twins were back in Kano. Smart was a shadow of himself, his face hard and expressionless, spending all his time in prayer.
Finally, on the fifth day, prayers began to bear fruit — the police got a lead. Witnesses reported seeing Lulu leaving with an elderly woman known as Dada, accompanied by a young man.
When questioned, Dada denied it at first, but the witness identified her immediately. Everyone in the house turned to look at Dada, who was visibly nervous.
Smart’s eyes burned with fury. If not for her age and her relation to Lulu, he might have lost control. Daddy also looked shaken — for the first time, suspicion turned toward Alhaji Sulaiman, a family friend long distrusted.
When Uncle Yousuf realized the confrontation might get out of hand, he dismissed the police temporarily, though they insisted Dada should face charges. But with influence from high places, they received an order to withdraw.
After they left, the house erupted in chaos. Dada shouted defiantly:
> “I’ll never tell you where Lulu is — not until Smart divorces her!”
Description
The Calm Before the Storm
He lay there half-awake on a king-size bed Nigerians call a “6-by-6.” The mattress was extremely soft, the white bedsheet spotless and smooth — one glance and you’d know its quality. The way he breathed heavily, sweat glistening on his chest, told clearly that he had just finished a rigorous workout. He wore a small JC-brand short that stopped midway on his thighs, paired with a t-shirt, and his feet were in the kind of sneakers footballers are known for. His upper body rested on the bed while his legs sprawled on the floor.
He exhaled sharply and opened his eyes — hazel-brown, intense, and devoid of any cheer. His face looked harder than before, no trace of the lively man people used to know. With renewed energy that showed the strength of a fit body, he sat up and let out a slight hiss, frowning as he removed his shoes. Dropping them aside, he stood up fully, yanked off his shirt angrily, and tossed it to the floor.
He walked to a long glass wall that served as a partition in his elegant bedroom. He pressed a green button beside it, and the glass slid open slowly, revealing a modern bathroom so luxurious that even an outsider would be impressed. He stepped inside briskly, still looking tense, and stood under the shower. As the cold water poured over his head, he let out a deep sigh from his chest.
That was Aliyu Mika’il Idris Mawashi, known in the football world as Smart Mawashi.
Though it had only been three months since he moved back to the UK and signed with the Queen City Club in London, everyone hoped this small club would be his stepping stone to greatness. But Smart — once quiet, reserved, and gentle — had changed. Silence had turned to arrogance; gentleness, to indifference.
The cause was not far-fetched — painful events in the past three months had shattered him at the height of his career and happiness. Just when he had built the foundation of a bright future with the woman he loved, life rewrote his story.
When he had finally decided to trust completely, to hand his life and loyalty to her, everything collapsed. His wife left him — on the very day his dream of becoming an international footballer came true.
Now, as he sat under the shower, memories returned vividly, piece by piece — the day she disappeared.
---
The Day Lulu Left
That day, he had gone home from training weighed down with guilt over how he had treated Lulu. He found his mother, Ammah, and his sister Maryam at home; Asma’u had gone on an errand to Aunty Bilkisu’s house. He greeted Ammah briefly and said he came to take Maryam home because Mawaddat (his wife, Lulu) was sick. Ammah was alarmed — she didn’t even wait for Abba to return before telling Maryam to go with him, assuming Lulu might be pregnant.
Maryam packed quickly, grabbing a jar of groundnut pap they had made earlier since neither had eaten yet. The road was clear that morning, and soon they arrived at Aliyu’s house.
As soon as they saw the living room door open, and Lulu’s book lying at the entrance, his heart sank. Trying to stay calm, he told Maryam to sit in the parlor while he went to his bedroom.
Moments later, Maryam called him — panic in her voice. “Yaya, Aunty isn’t here. I checked the toilet and kitchen — no one’s inside. But the wardrobe’s been emptied, and a box is left behind as if someone was in a rush.”
Aliyu’s chest tightened. He rushed to the room — everything valuable was gone. His legs trembled, but he forced himself to remain composed. Then he saw a folded paper on the bed. Picking it up, he read:
> “I hate you, Aliyu. I never want to see you again. May God judge you — oppressor. So all your so-called preaching was fake? You don’t even live by your own words. Forget me forever, because I’ve made sure our paths will never cross again. If you suffer searching for me, that’s your choice. No one can make me return to you — not even Uncle Yousuf.”
His vision blurred; he dropped to his knees, muttering “Ya Allah…” over and over. Maryam entered, alarmed by his state, but he raised his hand and shouted at her to leave him alone. Frightened, she ran out.
Barely a minute later, her phone rang — it was Ahmad, their brother. She answered quickly and poured out everything that had happened. Ahmad was shocked and rushed over. When he arrived, Smart (Aliyu) was silent for a long time, then said bitterly, “She left.”
Ahmad tried to calm him, saying he would contact Uncle Yousuf. After several failed calls, the line finally connected. Uncle Yousuf was deeply worried and said he was on his way. He also called Aunty Saliha, who was already panicking after receiving a strange message earlier from Khadijah saying Lulu had fled and they shouldn’t look for her — threatening that if Aliyu didn’t divorce her officially, she’d make sure he suffered for it.
When Aunty Saliha and her driver rushed to Lulu’s street, they saw a black tinted car speeding away. The gate was left open, and a neighbor confirmed that a crying woman had been forced into a car with her luggage loaded into a Hilux.
When Uncle Yousuf heard this, he was devastated. He called Mommy, asking if Lulu had come home. Mommy was surprised and said no — Lulu had court that day. That news gave him a little relief, hoping she might be safe somewhere else.
Ahmad and Smart rushed to the court, accompanied by Aunty Saliha, but there was no sign of Lulu. Everyone began to panic.
That evening, a missing person report was filed at the police station. Smart didn’t eat the entire day — only water passed his lips. He was so pale that Coach had to force him to drink tea after Maghrib prayer. Moments later, he vomited and developed a high fever.
Ahmad and Abdull stayed with him overnight, while Ammah and Abba also visited in person, shaken by the situation. Meanwhile, Umma — the one who never liked Lulu — secretly rejoiced, believing this tragedy would lead to Smart’s downfall.
The Investigation and Betrayal
Days passed — no word from Lulu. Three days became five, and by then, Daddy and Uncle Yousuf had abandoned all their duties and returned to Nigeria. Even the twins were back in Kano. Smart was a shadow of himself, his face hard and expressionless, spending all his time in prayer.
Finally, on the fifth day, prayers began to bear fruit — the police got a lead. Witnesses reported seeing Lulu leaving with an elderly woman known as Dada, accompanied by a young man.
When questioned, Dada denied it at first, but the witness identified her immediately. Everyone in the house turned to look at Dada, who was visibly nervous.
Smart’s eyes burned with fury. If not for her age and her relation to Lulu, he might have lost control. Daddy also looked shaken — for the first time, suspicion turned toward Alhaji Sulaiman, a family friend long distrusted.
When Uncle Yousuf realized the confrontation might get out of hand, he dismissed the police temporarily, though they insisted Dada should face charges. But with influence from high places, they received an order to withdraw.
After they left, the house erupted in chaos. Dada shouted defiantly:
> “I’ll never tell you where Lulu is — not until Smart divorces her!”