He felt a strange zir-zir-zirrrr movement traveling from the palm of his hand up to the middle of his brain.
Quickly, he shut his eyes tight and pressed himself together, because of the piercing sensation running through his body down to his feet, reaching his toes on both legs.
His lips began trembling as if they would fall off.
They became reddish and shiny as though oil had been rubbed on them, soft like flower petals.
Goosebumps covered his whole body, even to his scalp.
He opened his eyes with his breath coming in uneven gasps.
He could not fully open them because of an overwhelming strange feeling, like tears welling up, but not tears.
This was the very first time in his life that his hand had touched Caɓɓulle, and seeing their glittering brightness in his life history overwhelmed him. That is why it came unexpectedly, disturbing his mind.
Slowly, he pulled her body closer.
He opened his lips, voice shaking deep from his throat, and said:
“Alhamdulillah! Alhamdulillah!! Yah Subhanallah. Glory be to the Lord of all worlds.”
His voice melted, dropping deeper into his throat in an indescribable tone as he whispered:
“A’ich! Ahhhhhh’i! Chhhhhh!!!”
Then he went silent, feeling his breath almost slipping away.
Aysha, still in her sleep, rolled toward him and hugged him tightly, shivering in her slumber.
His body trembled harder.
He gathered the little strength left, carried her, and took her to the bedroom.
He laid her on the bed, turned off the light, pulled the blanket over them, and held her close.
Placing his hand at her back, he slowly slid his finger upward from her waist like a crawling insect.
She began to stiffen, pressing her chest tightly against him while wrapping her arms around his neck.
Softly he said:
“Wash, Allah na, Mamey, you’ll choke me.”
He rolled her under him, putting his weight slightly on her.
She quickly opened her eyes and cried:
“Wayyo Yah Sheykh!”
He pressed his forehead to hers, bit her lips gently, making her flinch and pull back saying:
“Wayyo Ummey, my mouth!”
His head dropped to her chest, and without intention or plan, his lips landed on her nipples.
She jolted strongly, but he held her down, licking her nipple tenderly like candy.
Their breathing deepened together.
She pressed her palm against his head in a trembling voice:
“Washhhhh Yahhh Sheykh!”
Their bodies shook together.
She broke into tears she couldn’t explain, stretching her arms helplessly.
He rolled aside, hugged her tightly, buried his nose in her neck, inhaling deeply with burning desire.
In a low voice, he muttered:
“You smell sour—you haven’t bathed.”
He pressed his face deeper into her neck, his hand resting on her breast, while she rubbed herself against him.
Soon sleep carried her away, while Sheykh lay restless, overwhelmed with sensations he never imagined.
The Morning After
At dawn, Galadima and the others gathered waiting for Sheykh to lead the prayer.
For the first time in his life, Sheykh overslept Fajr prayer due to a heavy, meaningful sleep.
Slowly opening his eyes, seeing how they lay entwined reminded him of what had happened last night.
He frowned at her, rose quickly, bathed, made ablution, and dressed.
Spraying perfume, he leaned toward her and said:
“Aich! Aich! Get up and pray, we’re leaving.”
She only stretched and pulled the blanket.
He left the room. She returned to sleep.
Later, he returned to find her still lying down.
He scolded her:
“Have you prayed or not?”
Startled, she sat up, forgetting she wore nothing.
He stared at her chest. She quickly covered herself with the blanket.
He clicked his tongue and ordered:
“Get up, bathe, and pray.”
She obeyed, bathed in hot water, and felt refreshed.
Meanwhile, he folded her clothes neatly. When she peeked out and called softly,
“Yah Sheykh!”
He felt warmth in his chest at how she called his name.
“Yes,” he replied.
She asked for her bag in the car. He teased:
“So I’m your servant now?”
She shook her head quickly.
He handed her new clothes Aunt Hafsat had bought for Umrah.
She thanked him with prayers, which pleased him.
After she prayed, he urged her:
“Let’s go, they’ve been waiting long.”
Outside, Jalal mocked Jabeer in his thoughts:
“No matter how fast you travel, if you’re with a woman, delay is sure.”
They set off. In the car, Aysha shyly asked for food.
Sheykh teased, calling her “Abboi.”
Soon they stopped at a fine restaurant, collected packed breakfast, and gave her some.
He warned:
“Eat, but don’t chew me raw.”
She smiled, eating quietly, while he called Umaymah.
That day they toured three settlements of the ArÉ—o chiefs, reporting news to the media.
It was their fifth day of journey.
At Rugar Bugem, they met red cattle herders. Sheykh confronted them angrily for invading grazing lands.
The herders boldly replied they would never let their cattle starve, even if it meant trespassing.
Jalal quickly informed the army headquarters to investigate, as the herders carried weapons and looked wild.
By evening, they returned to Barata, prayed, ate, and continued toward Æadamaya.
In the car, Aysha smiled quietly by the window. Sheykh asked:
“What are you smiling at?”
She denied it.
He pressed:
“Then you’re crying?”
She shook her head.
He sighed, calculating that only eight days remained until Eid al-Adha.
Between Sheykh and Aysha
On the road, Sheykh leaned closer, whispering her name, “Aish.”
She softly replied, “Yes.”
He asked if he could question her about the Fulani tribes.
She explained differences between groups—Jafunawa, Katsinalle, Sullubawa, Udawa, Yan Jajaye, and others—each with unique habits.
Some were peaceful, some shameless, some violent, and some obsessed with women.
Listening, Sheykh hugged her tightly, whispering:
“God truly shielded me.”
She asked how.
He sighed:
“Had they devoured the servants of Princess Aminatu, we would never have met.”
Description
The Unexpected Sensation
He felt a strange zir-zir-zirrrr movement traveling from the palm of his hand up to the middle of his brain.
Quickly, he shut his eyes tight and pressed himself together, because of the piercing sensation running through his body down to his feet, reaching his toes on both legs.
His lips began trembling as if they would fall off.
They became reddish and shiny as though oil had been rubbed on them, soft like flower petals.
Goosebumps covered his whole body, even to his scalp.
He opened his eyes with his breath coming in uneven gasps.
He could not fully open them because of an overwhelming strange feeling, like tears welling up, but not tears.
This was the very first time in his life that his hand had touched Caɓɓulle, and seeing their glittering brightness in his life history overwhelmed him. That is why it came unexpectedly, disturbing his mind.
Slowly, he pulled her body closer.
He opened his lips, voice shaking deep from his throat, and said:
“Alhamdulillah! Alhamdulillah!! Yah Subhanallah. Glory be to the Lord of all worlds.”
His voice melted, dropping deeper into his throat in an indescribable tone as he whispered:
“A’ich! Ahhhhhh’i! Chhhhhh!!!”
Then he went silent, feeling his breath almost slipping away.
Aysha, still in her sleep, rolled toward him and hugged him tightly, shivering in her slumber.
His body trembled harder.
He gathered the little strength left, carried her, and took her to the bedroom.
He laid her on the bed, turned off the light, pulled the blanket over them, and held her close.
Placing his hand at her back, he slowly slid his finger upward from her waist like a crawling insect.
She began to stiffen, pressing her chest tightly against him while wrapping her arms around his neck.
Softly he said:
“Wash, Allah na, Mamey, you’ll choke me.”
He rolled her under him, putting his weight slightly on her.
She quickly opened her eyes and cried:
“Wayyo Yah Sheykh!”
He pressed his forehead to hers, bit her lips gently, making her flinch and pull back saying:
“Wayyo Ummey, my mouth!”
His head dropped to her chest, and without intention or plan, his lips landed on her nipples.
She jolted strongly, but he held her down, licking her nipple tenderly like candy.
Their breathing deepened together.
She pressed her palm against his head in a trembling voice:
“Washhhhh Yahhh Sheykh!”
Their bodies shook together.
She broke into tears she couldn’t explain, stretching her arms helplessly.
He rolled aside, hugged her tightly, buried his nose in her neck, inhaling deeply with burning desire.
In a low voice, he muttered:
“You smell sour—you haven’t bathed.”
He pressed his face deeper into her neck, his hand resting on her breast, while she rubbed herself against him.
Soon sleep carried her away, while Sheykh lay restless, overwhelmed with sensations he never imagined.
The Morning After
At dawn, Galadima and the others gathered waiting for Sheykh to lead the prayer.
For the first time in his life, Sheykh overslept Fajr prayer due to a heavy, meaningful sleep.
Slowly opening his eyes, seeing how they lay entwined reminded him of what had happened last night.
He frowned at her, rose quickly, bathed, made ablution, and dressed.
Spraying perfume, he leaned toward her and said:
“Aich! Aich! Get up and pray, we’re leaving.”
She only stretched and pulled the blanket.
He left the room. She returned to sleep.
Later, he returned to find her still lying down.
He scolded her:
“Have you prayed or not?”
Startled, she sat up, forgetting she wore nothing.
He stared at her chest. She quickly covered herself with the blanket.
He clicked his tongue and ordered:
“Get up, bathe, and pray.”
She obeyed, bathed in hot water, and felt refreshed.
Meanwhile, he folded her clothes neatly. When she peeked out and called softly,
“Yah Sheykh!”
He felt warmth in his chest at how she called his name.
“Yes,” he replied.
She asked for her bag in the car. He teased:
“So I’m your servant now?”
She shook her head quickly.
He handed her new clothes Aunt Hafsat had bought for Umrah.
She thanked him with prayers, which pleased him.
After she prayed, he urged her:
“Let’s go, they’ve been waiting long.”
Outside, Jalal mocked Jabeer in his thoughts:
“No matter how fast you travel, if you’re with a woman, delay is sure.”
They set off. In the car, Aysha shyly asked for food.
Sheykh teased, calling her “Abboi.”
Soon they stopped at a fine restaurant, collected packed breakfast, and gave her some.
He warned:
“Eat, but don’t chew me raw.”
She smiled, eating quietly, while he called Umaymah.
That day they toured three settlements of the ArÉ—o chiefs, reporting news to the media.
It was their fifth day of journey.
At Rugar Bugem, they met red cattle herders. Sheykh confronted them angrily for invading grazing lands.
The herders boldly replied they would never let their cattle starve, even if it meant trespassing.
Jalal quickly informed the army headquarters to investigate, as the herders carried weapons and looked wild.
By evening, they returned to Barata, prayed, ate, and continued toward Æadamaya.
In the car, Aysha smiled quietly by the window. Sheykh asked:
“What are you smiling at?”
She denied it.
He pressed:
“Then you’re crying?”
She shook her head.
He sighed, calculating that only eight days remained until Eid al-Adha.
Between Sheykh and Aysha
On the road, Sheykh leaned closer, whispering her name, “Aish.”
She softly replied, “Yes.”
He asked if he could question her about the Fulani tribes.
She explained differences between groups—Jafunawa, Katsinalle, Sullubawa, Udawa, Yan Jajaye, and others—each with unique habits.
Some were peaceful, some shameless, some violent, and some obsessed with women.
Listening, Sheykh hugged her tightly, whispering:
“God truly shielded me.”
She asked how.
He sighed:
“Had they devoured the servants of Princess Aminatu, we would never have met.”