Suhaila quickly stood up, giving Mardiyya a piercing look that left her speechless. She rose and said, “Mardiyya, please, don’t go out there. We’re trying to find a solution.”
“Suhaila, I swear that’s not what I’m doing,” Mardiyya replied. “Am I some kind of wayward girl that he’d look at me like that and say such things? He’s bold enough to say it to my face, but instead, he sent someone else. Honestly, there are too many cruel people in this world. If this isn’t a test, then I give up. A year feels like just a day.”
She finished speaking, collapsing to her knees, sobbing and resting her head on her lap. Suhaila tried to speak, “Mardiyya…” but before she could finish, Mardiyya looked up angrily and snapped, “I don’t want to hear anything from you. Do you even have any sense?”
The sound of the door opening startled them, and they turned, faces tense. Asim barked, “Come on, get out of my office! Were you told this is a boxing ring?”
Mardiyya quickly met his gaze, but the look he gave her made her avert her eyes. She grabbed her bag and rushed out, her body trembling. Suhaila followed, also shaking. Though Asim hadn’t raised his voice, his words had a profound impact on them.
Suhaila grabbed Mardiyya’s hand, but Mardiyya pulled away, glaring. Suhaila, undeterred, took her hand again and said, “Mardiyya, people are watching us. Don’t let them think something’s wrong.”
Wiping her tears, Mardiyya replied coldly, “What did I do? Do I look like some loose girl? Just because I’m a poor Fulani girl from the village doesn’t mean I don’t know my worth. Look, Suhaila, he didn’t say we should commit immorality. You know what goes on in this school—how many girls get pregnant, whether it’s from lecturers or students. I see it; every culprit in this school is gathered here. You know this marriage is a contract. You know Baffa is sponsoring your feeding, paying your registration fees. You know you wouldn’t be able to continue without that support. This is an opportunity. Once you graduate, you’ll leave with a good certificate, get a job, and support your siblings and parents.”
Mardiyya looked at her sharply, feeling as though hot water had been poured on her. “My dignity?” she said. “You, of all people, know that every girl who marries and leaves has her name and status changed, her value transformed.”
Suhaila cut in, “Let’s go to the hostel. This isn’t a conversation for here.”
Mardiyya didn’t respond and walked ahead, her mind racing with thoughts. She couldn’t decide what to do. She didn’t want to fail this test, but what would people say? They’d mock her. All the effort she’d put into her studies would be wasted. She’d only paid half her registration fees, so she’d have to sit out and retake the exam later. That day, she’d already missed the exam because the vehicle she took broke down, and the driver stopped to fix it. By the time she arrived, the papers had been distributed, and some students had already left. She begged and pleaded, but they refused to give her the papers, saying she’d have to wait another year, as if she had an extra breath to spare.
Suhaila said, “Mardiyya, you have no better option than this.”
“Suhaila, are you saying the fate God has given me is what you want for yourself? You think I’ve gone astray?” Mardiyya replied.
Suhaila laughed, “What fate, Mardiyya? I swear, I’d take this deal. You know how many girls throw themselves at him, and he rejects them. You’ve got someone who loves you. He’d never say he wants to marry you if he didn’t mean it. Everything about him is perfect—handsome, educated, wealthy, from a prominent family. You’re poor, Mardiyya, please accept this. You won’t even look at his wealth!”
Mardiyya couldn’t meet her eyes and kept walking, her heart pounding heavily. She entered their hostel, and Suhaila quickly followed, saying, “Please, stop crying. Don’t you see Ajeebo and the others in this hostel? That’s exactly what they want. Since we don’t carry over courses, they follow men with their flashy lifestyles. That doesn’t stop them from failing, even if you don’t see them staring at you.”
Mardiyya let out a heavy sigh but said nothing. At the reception, Madam Sophia greeted, “Kawa, welcome back.”
Mardiyya’s face was clouded with distress, but she forced a weak smile and said, “Good morning, Madam Sophia.”
“Morning, sister. You don’t look well,” Madam Sophia observed.
“My head hurts,” Mardiyya replied.
“Oh, sorry. Is it the exams causing your headache?” Madam Sophia said, patting her shoulder.
Mardiyya nodded quietly, knowing her true predicament. Her parents weren’t well-off, and she didn’t know how to handle this situation. She was preparing to confront him, knowing he didn’t truly love her but wanted to use her. Once he was done, she’d be discarded like trash.
Madam Sophia moved closer to where Mardiyya sat. Seeing her, Suhaila quickly stood and said, “Hi, my mine.”
“She’s fine,” Suhaila replied, moving forward. She knew Madam Sophia well—she’d keep her engaged in conversation.
Madam Grace chimed in, “I love Mardiyya, honestly. Every time I see her, I feel like hugging her.”
Madam Sophia gave her a look and said, “I don’t want to hear that. Mardiyya is mine.” She turned away, continuing to type on her laptop.
Office
“Asim, what’s making you act like this? We’re looking for a solution, and I know this girl—she’s not a problem,” Mukhtar said, looking at Asim.
Asim gave him a knowing look and replied, “That’s why we saw her outside at 11 p.m. Look, Mukhtar, it’s like you don’t know how things work around here. With the transport issues, you know my mom has been pressuring your wife to check on her health before she travels to America. She should marry, even if it’s temporary, and you can divorce her later. It’s a contract marriage anyway. Pay her what she needs. I don’t want this girl’s life to be ruined. You know the government has withdrawn funding this semester, and her fees are unpaid. She’s struggling to find money to pay her father’s debts. What are you thinking? This wayward girl doesn’t have marriage ahead of her. Asim, leave Afiyah alone. If she had marriage in her future, she’d have told you to come forward and marry her. You must go for classic ladies. Local ones are trouble after exposure. These local girls with their hijabs, claiming to be pious, are the worst hypocrites. They hide behind religion. How can I marry a local lady? I’ll follow your advice only to please my mom, but Afiyah must never know—it’s degrading for me to marry a local girl who smells of cheap perfume and wears a hijab. Look at Afiyah; when she leaves, her fragrance lingers. Mukhtar, you know I’m a man of class. I don’t like filth. These poor girls are greedy and materialistic.”
“Hmm, Asim, you’ll never understand,” Mukhtar said, standing from his chair. A knock came at the door before he could respond, and it opened. A woman entered, dressed in expensive Swiss lace, tailored into a straight gown that showed no regard for the fabric’s cost. Her face was heavily made-up, and she smiled, chewing gum.
Asim greeted her, “Afiyah, you’re welcome.”
She smiled, pulled a chair, and sat, removing her glasses and placing them on his table. “Babe, I missed you,” she said.
He glanced at her and said, “Don’t you see Mukhtar?”
She gave Mukhtar a sidelong glance and said, “Mukhtar, how far?”
Without looking at her, Mukhtar grabbed some papers and said, “Fine,” before leaving the office.
Afiyah pouted, turned to Asim, and said, “So you couldn’t even come pick me up?”
Rubbing his head, Asim replied, “Sorry, I’ve been swamped. Did you arrive safely?”
“Very safely,” she said, trying to touch his hand. He pulled away, saying, “You know I don’t like that.”
She frowned, “Fine. I thought since we’re getting married, we have the right to do anything. But you keep bringing up these local things.”
Asim, visibly annoyed, said, “That’s what irritates me about you, Afiyah. Our religion guides us in everything. This isn’t about modernity.”
“Fine, Asim. I only came to greet you. I’m going back to school. Your school impresses me—maybe I’ll do my master’s degree here,” she said.
“Do as you wish,” Asim replied.
“Okay, see you later,” she said, standing to leave. He said goodbye, and she walked out, swaying her hips confidently, her curvy figure drawing attention. Her phone rang, and she quickly opened her bag, answered, and said, “Okay, I’m coming. I’m already on campus.” She hung up, put the phone back, and continued walking, attracting stares wherever she went.
She knocked on another office door. It was silent, save for the sound of birds. The door opened, and she entered. The man inside closed it, embraced her from behind, and unzipped her dress. She smiled, turned to him with love in her eyes, and said, “My…”
He kissed her chest, and she helped him remove her dress, saying, “You’re not even patient. I swear, I’d rest if you weren’t here.”
Samuel replied, “What rest? I’m about to make you feel good.”
She laughed, placing her hand on his trouser’s waistband, smiling to herself. In her mind, she pictured Asim, knowing the pleasure Samuel would give her. She moaned like a seductress as he kissed her cheeks, unhooked her bra, and her breasts spilled out. He grabbed one, saying, “I swear, I missed you.”
She sat, letting out a soft moan, and said, “Are you sure?”
He sat too, sliding his hand into her pants, saying, “Yes.”
Description
Suhaila quickly stood up, giving Mardiyya a piercing look that left her speechless. She rose and said, “Mardiyya, please, don’t go out there. We’re trying to find a solution.”
“Suhaila, I swear that’s not what I’m doing,” Mardiyya replied. “Am I some kind of wayward girl that he’d look at me like that and say such things? He’s bold enough to say it to my face, but instead, he sent someone else. Honestly, there are too many cruel people in this world. If this isn’t a test, then I give up. A year feels like just a day.”
She finished speaking, collapsing to her knees, sobbing and resting her head on her lap. Suhaila tried to speak, “Mardiyya…” but before she could finish, Mardiyya looked up angrily and snapped, “I don’t want to hear anything from you. Do you even have any sense?”
The sound of the door opening startled them, and they turned, faces tense. Asim barked, “Come on, get out of my office! Were you told this is a boxing ring?”
Mardiyya quickly met his gaze, but the look he gave her made her avert her eyes. She grabbed her bag and rushed out, her body trembling. Suhaila followed, also shaking. Though Asim hadn’t raised his voice, his words had a profound impact on them.
Suhaila grabbed Mardiyya’s hand, but Mardiyya pulled away, glaring. Suhaila, undeterred, took her hand again and said, “Mardiyya, people are watching us. Don’t let them think something’s wrong.”
Wiping her tears, Mardiyya replied coldly, “What did I do? Do I look like some loose girl? Just because I’m a poor Fulani girl from the village doesn’t mean I don’t know my worth. Look, Suhaila, he didn’t say we should commit immorality. You know what goes on in this school—how many girls get pregnant, whether it’s from lecturers or students. I see it; every culprit in this school is gathered here. You know this marriage is a contract. You know Baffa is sponsoring your feeding, paying your registration fees. You know you wouldn’t be able to continue without that support. This is an opportunity. Once you graduate, you’ll leave with a good certificate, get a job, and support your siblings and parents.”
Mardiyya looked at her sharply, feeling as though hot water had been poured on her. “My dignity?” she said. “You, of all people, know that every girl who marries and leaves has her name and status changed, her value transformed.”
Suhaila cut in, “Let’s go to the hostel. This isn’t a conversation for here.”
Mardiyya didn’t respond and walked ahead, her mind racing with thoughts. She couldn’t decide what to do. She didn’t want to fail this test, but what would people say? They’d mock her. All the effort she’d put into her studies would be wasted. She’d only paid half her registration fees, so she’d have to sit out and retake the exam later. That day, she’d already missed the exam because the vehicle she took broke down, and the driver stopped to fix it. By the time she arrived, the papers had been distributed, and some students had already left. She begged and pleaded, but they refused to give her the papers, saying she’d have to wait another year, as if she had an extra breath to spare.
Suhaila said, “Mardiyya, you have no better option than this.”
“Suhaila, are you saying the fate God has given me is what you want for yourself? You think I’ve gone astray?” Mardiyya replied.
Suhaila laughed, “What fate, Mardiyya? I swear, I’d take this deal. You know how many girls throw themselves at him, and he rejects them. You’ve got someone who loves you. He’d never say he wants to marry you if he didn’t mean it. Everything about him is perfect—handsome, educated, wealthy, from a prominent family. You’re poor, Mardiyya, please accept this. You won’t even look at his wealth!”
Mardiyya couldn’t meet her eyes and kept walking, her heart pounding heavily. She entered their hostel, and Suhaila quickly followed, saying, “Please, stop crying. Don’t you see Ajeebo and the others in this hostel? That’s exactly what they want. Since we don’t carry over courses, they follow men with their flashy lifestyles. That doesn’t stop them from failing, even if you don’t see them staring at you.”
Mardiyya let out a heavy sigh but said nothing. At the reception, Madam Sophia greeted, “Kawa, welcome back.”
Mardiyya’s face was clouded with distress, but she forced a weak smile and said, “Good morning, Madam Sophia.”
“Morning, sister. You don’t look well,” Madam Sophia observed.
“My head hurts,” Mardiyya replied.
“Oh, sorry. Is it the exams causing your headache?” Madam Sophia said, patting her shoulder.
Mardiyya nodded quietly, knowing her true predicament. Her parents weren’t well-off, and she didn’t know how to handle this situation. She was preparing to confront him, knowing he didn’t truly love her but wanted to use her. Once he was done, she’d be discarded like trash.
Madam Sophia moved closer to where Mardiyya sat. Seeing her, Suhaila quickly stood and said, “Hi, my mine.”
Suhaila smiled and said, “Good morning, Madam.”
“How’s our sister Mardiyya feeling?” Madam Sophia asked, looking at Suhaila.
“She’s fine,” Suhaila replied, moving forward. She knew Madam Sophia well—she’d keep her engaged in conversation.
Madam Grace chimed in, “I love Mardiyya, honestly. Every time I see her, I feel like hugging her.”
Madam Sophia gave her a look and said, “I don’t want to hear that. Mardiyya is mine.” She turned away, continuing to type on her laptop.
Office
“Asim, what’s making you act like this? We’re looking for a solution, and I know this girl—she’s not a problem,” Mukhtar said, looking at Asim.
Asim gave him a knowing look and replied, “That’s why we saw her outside at 11 p.m. Look, Mukhtar, it’s like you don’t know how things work around here. With the transport issues, you know my mom has been pressuring your wife to check on her health before she travels to America. She should marry, even if it’s temporary, and you can divorce her later. It’s a contract marriage anyway. Pay her what she needs. I don’t want this girl’s life to be ruined. You know the government has withdrawn funding this semester, and her fees are unpaid. She’s struggling to find money to pay her father’s debts. What are you thinking? This wayward girl doesn’t have marriage ahead of her. Asim, leave Afiyah alone. If she had marriage in her future, she’d have told you to come forward and marry her. You must go for classic ladies. Local ones are trouble after exposure. These local girls with their hijabs, claiming to be pious, are the worst hypocrites. They hide behind religion. How can I marry a local lady? I’ll follow your advice only to please my mom, but Afiyah must never know—it’s degrading for me to marry a local girl who smells of cheap perfume and wears a hijab. Look at Afiyah; when she leaves, her fragrance lingers. Mukhtar, you know I’m a man of class. I don’t like filth. These poor girls are greedy and materialistic.”
“Hmm, Asim, you’ll never understand,” Mukhtar said, standing from his chair. A knock came at the door before he could respond, and it opened. A woman entered, dressed in expensive Swiss lace, tailored into a straight gown that showed no regard for the fabric’s cost. Her face was heavily made-up, and she smiled, chewing gum.
Asim greeted her, “Afiyah, you’re welcome.”
She smiled, pulled a chair, and sat, removing her glasses and placing them on his table. “Babe, I missed you,” she said.
He glanced at her and said, “Don’t you see Mukhtar?”
She gave Mukhtar a sidelong glance and said, “Mukhtar, how far?”
Without looking at her, Mukhtar grabbed some papers and said, “Fine,” before leaving the office.
Afiyah pouted, turned to Asim, and said, “So you couldn’t even come pick me up?”
Rubbing his head, Asim replied, “Sorry, I’ve been swamped. Did you arrive safely?”
“Very safely,” she said, trying to touch his hand. He pulled away, saying, “You know I don’t like that.”
She frowned, “Fine. I thought since we’re getting married, we have the right to do anything. But you keep bringing up these local things.”
Asim, visibly annoyed, said, “That’s what irritates me about you, Afiyah. Our religion guides us in everything. This isn’t about modernity.”
“Fine, Asim. I only came to greet you. I’m going back to school. Your school impresses me—maybe I’ll do my master’s degree here,” she said.
“Do as you wish,” Asim replied.
“Okay, see you later,” she said, standing to leave. He said goodbye, and she walked out, swaying her hips confidently, her curvy figure drawing attention. Her phone rang, and she quickly opened her bag, answered, and said, “Okay, I’m coming. I’m already on campus.” She hung up, put the phone back, and continued walking, attracting stares wherever she went.
She knocked on another office door. It was silent, save for the sound of birds. The door opened, and she entered. The man inside closed it, embraced her from behind, and unzipped her dress. She smiled, turned to him with love in her eyes, and said, “My…”
He kissed her chest, and she helped him remove her dress, saying, “You’re not even patient. I swear, I’d rest if you weren’t here.”
Samuel replied, “What rest? I’m about to make you feel good.”
She laughed, placing her hand on his trouser’s waistband, smiling to herself. In her mind, she pictured Asim, knowing the pleasure Samuel would give her. She moaned like a seductress as he kissed her cheeks, unhooked her bra, and her breasts spilled out. He grabbed one, saying, “I swear, I missed you.”
She sat, letting out a soft moan, and said, “Are you sure?”
He sat too, sliding his hand into her pants, saying, “Yes.”
She laughed, calling, “Samueeel.”
He laughed back, mimicking her, “Yes, Linda.”