She sat watching the bright moon that illuminated everywhere… she gazed at the sky, which was greatly relieving her loneliness, and a gentle breeze blew that made her close her eyes with joy. But alas!! The absence of her beloved beside her was her biggest problem at that moment. Slowly, she whispered, “Oh God, my lover… is he alive or not? If he’s alive, I’m sure he must have married, living with his wife, and has forgotten me in his life.”
A thin tear rolled down her eyes just as someone placed a hand on her shoulder. Startled, she turned slowly—an old woman sat beside her, smiling. “My granddaughter, be patient, continue praying. One day, God may reveal your beloved to you, if it is destined for you to meet again.”
She rested her head on the old woman’s shoulder, still crying, until the old woman comforted her. Gradually, she stopped crying as the old woman shared stories of their past together, making her forget her sorrow.
In the morning, she woke up, cleaned the house, washed dishes, then went to bathe. Coming out into the sitting room, she met her father. She sat respectfully on the floor and greeted him, which he replied to warmly with a smile.
“My daughter, when are you returning to your school?”
“Father, we’re going for IT, we’re not resuming classes yet.”
“That’s good, may Allah help you and grant success.”
“Amen, thank you.”
She went to her room, dressed in a beautiful Ankara, sprayed perfume, and stood ready. She was tall—not excessively so, but just right, with a graceful body, a sharp nose, small lips, shining eyelashes, dimples, and silky hair. Truly, she was very beautiful. She wore her hijab and came out. Her father was still chatting with the old woman. She passed them and entered another section where a beautiful woman came out of the kitchen holding a tea flask.
“Good morning, Mother.”
“Good morning, how was your night? And your grandfather?”
“Fine, Alhamdulillah.”
The woman returned inside. She followed and asked: “Mother, is there any work I can help you with?”
“No, I’m done already.”
She fell silent. Another young lady came out from the bedroom, holding a cup of water, a brush, and toothpaste.
“Good morning, Sister Maryam.”
Maryam didn’t answer her and went outside to brush. When she returned, she threw her a glare and said: “I really don’t understand what kind of creature you are… even inside the house you walk around in hijab? Honestly, Mother and Islamic school are the only reasons Father still gives you money, otherwise, you’re useless—you don’t resemble educated people at all.”
Her mother added: “Hmm, your father is the reason she’s spoiled. Truly, I don’t understand Ruhaimat, she’s different from all my children.”
The one called Ruhaimat lowered her head quietly, listening. Maryam added, “If not for backwardness, how can you speak to someone who hasn’t even brushed yet?”
Their father’s voice cut in: “Enough, city girl. Maryam, be careful. I always warn you all to stop mistreating her, but you don’t listen. Fear God and change your ways.”
He turned to their mother: “And you, may God guide you. I’ve never seen a mother who spoils her children like you do. You look down on the one you should respect.”
The mother quickly interrupted: “Wait, Alhaji. I don’t hate her. I’m just trying to correct her because she’s in ignorance. And this hatred you think I have—it started because you refused to name her after my mother, but instead chose your own mother’s name.”
He smiled and said: “May Allah guide you, Halima. My daughter, come, let’s go eat.”
She stood up shyly and followed her father, while her mother and Maryam threw them angry stares.
Background of the Family
Original Storyline:
Alhaji Abubakar Hammawa was his real name. His parents had three children: the eldest, Alhaji Ahmadu, who worked with the government in Kano, married two wives, and had eight children. The second was Hajiya Maryam, married in Yola, working as a senior nurse at FMC Yola, with four children. The youngest was Alhaji Abubakar himself.
Their origin was Jada town in Adamawa State, where they were all born and raised. Their father passed away, leaving their mother, Hajiya Aishatu (Hajja Dada).
Alhaji Abubakar completed primary and secondary school, then went into business. Allah blessed him, and he married Halimatu, a girl from their hometown. They had six children: Mohammed (Hamma), Ahmadu, Zainab, Yusuf, Maryam, and Aisha (Ruhaimat). After that, they had no more children.
Halima had wanted to name Ruhaimat after her own mother, but Alhaji Abubakar insisted on giving her his mother’s name. From that day, their mother-in-law disliked both Halima and baby Ruhaimat.
Mohammed (Hamma) studied, now works in a bank in Kano, married his cousin (Ahmadu’s daughter).
Ahmadu (Tijjani) studied, graduated, joined business with their father, married a girl from Jada, and had two children.
Zainab married in Yola, her husband is a barrister, they had two children.
Yusuf completed his studies, serving his NYSC in Jada.
Maryam is in 400-level at Modibbo Adama University of Technology, Yola.
The youngest, Ruhaimat, is in 300-level Biochemistry at Adamawa State University. They were about to start IT.
New Encounters and Lingering Love
After breakfast with her father, she tidied his sitting room, then went to see Hajja Dada.
“My dear granddaughter, welcome back.”
“Yes, I’m back, my namesake.”
“Have you eaten? I kept some food for you. That shameless sister of yours brought it. I asked her where you were, but she ignored me.”
“Hmm, that’s Maryam for you.”
“I wonder how she’ll ever get a husband with that attitude.”
They laughed together until her phone rang—her screen showed “My Lover”. She picked it up with a smile.
“Oh my dear, I missed you.”
“Ruhi, it’s been two days without even a flash.”
“Sorry, you know when I’m around Hajja Dada, I can’t do much.”
“So, you’ll forget everyone, even your mai sona?”
Quickly she replied: “No! If I forget mai sona, then I’ve stopped breathing.”
“Ruhi, still clinging to the man you don’t even know whether he’s alive or dead?”
“Insha Allah, he’s alive. I feel in my heart we’ll meet again.”
“Well, Juliet, may Allah make it happen.”
“Ameen, thank you.”
Later that day, around 4:30pm, a boy came saying someone was looking for Ruhaimat. Maryam mocked her, laughing: “Maybe it’s your teacher… or which desperate man would even come for you? Pfft.”
Forced by Hajja Dada, Ruhaimat put on a long hijab and went outside. She found a fine, well-dressed young man by his motorcycle. He greeted politely and introduced himself: “My name is Aliyu. I’ve carried love for you in my heart for long.”
She answered gently: “Thank you, but I already have someone I’m waiting for.”
Surprised, he said: “But I confirmed you weren’t engaged.”
She replied: “True, but I made a promise of marriage with someone. Forgive me.”
Aliyu smiled sadly, gave her a bag of gifts, and left. Inside, Yusuf teased her: “So, the Imam’s wife—you’ve started falling in love. Have you given up on mai sona?”
“No, brother. I’m still waiting. He’ll come.”
Maryam laughed loudly, mocking her: “So what did you tell that guy?”
“I told him I already have someone I’ll marry.”
Yusuf shook his head: “Sister, for how long will you wait for someone unseen? It’s been years since he left. Maybe he has forgotten you. Think wisely.”
Another boy arrived with a gift bag. Inside were perfumes, cream, and chocolates. Maryam mocked again: “Wow, he really shopped for you! I’m jealous, honestly.”
Ruhaimat ignored her and returned to Hajja Dada. At night, lying outside on a mat, she stared at the sky, her heart full of thoughts of her lover.
“Where is he now? He must be somewhere, perhaps thinking of me too.”
She closed her eyes, whispering: “Oh God, my lover…”
Hajja Dada shook her head: “Every night, always about mai sona. Are you even alright? I don’t understand this your matter. May God help you.”
Ruhaimat smiled softly: “Grandmother, please pray for me, that God fulfills my wish.”
Description
Loneliness, Hope, and Family Tensions
She sat watching the bright moon that illuminated everywhere… she gazed at the sky, which was greatly relieving her loneliness, and a gentle breeze blew that made her close her eyes with joy. But alas!! The absence of her beloved beside her was her biggest problem at that moment. Slowly, she whispered, “Oh God, my lover… is he alive or not? If he’s alive, I’m sure he must have married, living with his wife, and has forgotten me in his life.”
A thin tear rolled down her eyes just as someone placed a hand on her shoulder. Startled, she turned slowly—an old woman sat beside her, smiling. “My granddaughter, be patient, continue praying. One day, God may reveal your beloved to you, if it is destined for you to meet again.”
She rested her head on the old woman’s shoulder, still crying, until the old woman comforted her. Gradually, she stopped crying as the old woman shared stories of their past together, making her forget her sorrow.
In the morning, she woke up, cleaned the house, washed dishes, then went to bathe. Coming out into the sitting room, she met her father. She sat respectfully on the floor and greeted him, which he replied to warmly with a smile.
“My daughter, when are you returning to your school?”
“Father, we’re going for IT, we’re not resuming classes yet.”
“That’s good, may Allah help you and grant success.”
“Amen, thank you.”
She went to her room, dressed in a beautiful Ankara, sprayed perfume, and stood ready. She was tall—not excessively so, but just right, with a graceful body, a sharp nose, small lips, shining eyelashes, dimples, and silky hair. Truly, she was very beautiful. She wore her hijab and came out. Her father was still chatting with the old woman. She passed them and entered another section where a beautiful woman came out of the kitchen holding a tea flask.
“Good morning, Mother.”
“Good morning, how was your night? And your grandfather?”
“Fine, Alhamdulillah.”
The woman returned inside. She followed and asked: “Mother, is there any work I can help you with?”
“No, I’m done already.”
She fell silent. Another young lady came out from the bedroom, holding a cup of water, a brush, and toothpaste.
“Good morning, Sister Maryam.”
Maryam didn’t answer her and went outside to brush. When she returned, she threw her a glare and said: “I really don’t understand what kind of creature you are… even inside the house you walk around in hijab? Honestly, Mother and Islamic school are the only reasons Father still gives you money, otherwise, you’re useless—you don’t resemble educated people at all.”
Her mother added: “Hmm, your father is the reason she’s spoiled. Truly, I don’t understand Ruhaimat, she’s different from all my children.”
The one called Ruhaimat lowered her head quietly, listening. Maryam added, “If not for backwardness, how can you speak to someone who hasn’t even brushed yet?”
Their father’s voice cut in: “Enough, city girl. Maryam, be careful. I always warn you all to stop mistreating her, but you don’t listen. Fear God and change your ways.”
He turned to their mother: “And you, may God guide you. I’ve never seen a mother who spoils her children like you do. You look down on the one you should respect.”
The mother quickly interrupted: “Wait, Alhaji. I don’t hate her. I’m just trying to correct her because she’s in ignorance. And this hatred you think I have—it started because you refused to name her after my mother, but instead chose your own mother’s name.”
He smiled and said: “May Allah guide you, Halima. My daughter, come, let’s go eat.”
She stood up shyly and followed her father, while her mother and Maryam threw them angry stares.
Background of the Family
Original Storyline:
Alhaji Abubakar Hammawa was his real name. His parents had three children: the eldest, Alhaji Ahmadu, who worked with the government in Kano, married two wives, and had eight children. The second was Hajiya Maryam, married in Yola, working as a senior nurse at FMC Yola, with four children. The youngest was Alhaji Abubakar himself.
Their origin was Jada town in Adamawa State, where they were all born and raised. Their father passed away, leaving their mother, Hajiya Aishatu (Hajja Dada).
Alhaji Abubakar completed primary and secondary school, then went into business. Allah blessed him, and he married Halimatu, a girl from their hometown. They had six children: Mohammed (Hamma), Ahmadu, Zainab, Yusuf, Maryam, and Aisha (Ruhaimat). After that, they had no more children.
Halima had wanted to name Ruhaimat after her own mother, but Alhaji Abubakar insisted on giving her his mother’s name. From that day, their mother-in-law disliked both Halima and baby Ruhaimat.
Mohammed (Hamma) studied, now works in a bank in Kano, married his cousin (Ahmadu’s daughter).
Ahmadu (Tijjani) studied, graduated, joined business with their father, married a girl from Jada, and had two children.
Zainab married in Yola, her husband is a barrister, they had two children.
Yusuf completed his studies, serving his NYSC in Jada.
Maryam is in 400-level at Modibbo Adama University of Technology, Yola.
The youngest, Ruhaimat, is in 300-level Biochemistry at Adamawa State University. They were about to start IT.
New Encounters and Lingering Love
After breakfast with her father, she tidied his sitting room, then went to see Hajja Dada.
“My dear granddaughter, welcome back.”
“Yes, I’m back, my namesake.”
“Have you eaten? I kept some food for you. That shameless sister of yours brought it. I asked her where you were, but she ignored me.”
“Hmm, that’s Maryam for you.”
“I wonder how she’ll ever get a husband with that attitude.”
They laughed together until her phone rang—her screen showed “My Lover”. She picked it up with a smile.
“Oh my dear, I missed you.”
“Ruhi, it’s been two days without even a flash.”
“Sorry, you know when I’m around Hajja Dada, I can’t do much.”
“So, you’ll forget everyone, even your mai sona?”
Quickly she replied: “No! If I forget mai sona, then I’ve stopped breathing.”
“Ruhi, still clinging to the man you don’t even know whether he’s alive or dead?”
“Insha Allah, he’s alive. I feel in my heart we’ll meet again.”
“Well, Juliet, may Allah make it happen.”
“Ameen, thank you.”
Later that day, around 4:30pm, a boy came saying someone was looking for Ruhaimat. Maryam mocked her, laughing: “Maybe it’s your teacher… or which desperate man would even come for you? Pfft.”
Forced by Hajja Dada, Ruhaimat put on a long hijab and went outside. She found a fine, well-dressed young man by his motorcycle. He greeted politely and introduced himself: “My name is Aliyu. I’ve carried love for you in my heart for long.”
She answered gently: “Thank you, but I already have someone I’m waiting for.”
Surprised, he said: “But I confirmed you weren’t engaged.”
She replied: “True, but I made a promise of marriage with someone. Forgive me.”
Aliyu smiled sadly, gave her a bag of gifts, and left. Inside, Yusuf teased her: “So, the Imam’s wife—you’ve started falling in love. Have you given up on mai sona?”
“No, brother. I’m still waiting. He’ll come.”
Maryam laughed loudly, mocking her: “So what did you tell that guy?”
“I told him I already have someone I’ll marry.”
Yusuf shook his head: “Sister, for how long will you wait for someone unseen? It’s been years since he left. Maybe he has forgotten you. Think wisely.”
Another boy arrived with a gift bag. Inside were perfumes, cream, and chocolates. Maryam mocked again: “Wow, he really shopped for you! I’m jealous, honestly.”
Ruhaimat ignored her and returned to Hajja Dada. At night, lying outside on a mat, she stared at the sky, her heart full of thoughts of her lover.
“Where is he now? He must be somewhere, perhaps thinking of me too.”
She closed her eyes, whispering: “Oh God, my lover…”
Hajja Dada shook her head: “Every night, always about mai sona. Are you even alright? I don’t understand this your matter. May God help you.”
Ruhaimat smiled softly: “Grandmother, please pray for me, that God fulfills my wish.”
“Uhmm… may Allah grant your heart’s desire.”
She smiled again, without saying another word.