That was the chant of the thugs who disrupted the opening ceremony of Congo Stadium earlier this morning. As you saw, they were throwing stones everywhere, but reports confirmed that the Governor left the scene safely.
Bilkisu Kachallah quickly switched off the TV, her heart boiling. For the countless time, she dialed the Governor’s number, but his phone was switched off. Tears welled up in her eyes and began to fall—something rare for her. She could hardly recall the last time she cried.
“No one can remove you from that seat, no one can unseat you. They’re lying. You’ve never abused a woman—I can bet my life on that. Saifuddeen, please pick up your phone.”
Yes, she would quarrel with him, get angry with him—but her love was one, deep, and unwavering since she was young. She would never allow his dignity to be trampled upon as long as she breathed.
She wiped her tears and dialed another number.
“Find out who this Lami Ninja is.”
Saying that, she rose and entered her room. She would go to Kachallah House—maybe he went there. Her mind would not rest until she saw him.
For a long while, she had been anxiously trying to reach him. He should have seen her messages. She wanted him to scold her, to call her a hypocrite, a deceiver, an oppressor as he had before. Why hadn’t he sought protection? Why did he remain until the thugs came?
Her phone rang. She picked it up without checking the caller ID.
“Hello, Excellency.”
“I hope you’re satisfied with what you caused him today. Fear God, Asiya. Fear Allah.”
The call was cut.
She slowly lowered the phone from her ear.
“Ya Ubayd, forgive me. I admit I made a mistake. But even if the Governor divorces me, I will not leave until I clear his name. I promise.”
But who exactly was Lami Ninja?
She dialed Fou’ad Salisu’s number. After two rings, he answered.
“Fou’ad, who is Lami Ninja?”
“I too started investigating as soon as I heard the news. So far, I’ve discovered her real name is Lami Haladu. She attended Congo University when the Governor was a lecturer there. I’ve asked for updates on her current whereabouts and why she filed this case, but I haven’t gotten feedback yet. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Thank you.”
When she came out of the bathroom, Sumayya was waiting.
“Has the Governor returned?”
“No, the First Lady just went out—I think to see him.”
“Maybe he’s at Kachallah House,” Asiya murmured, sitting on the bed and burying her face in her lap.
“Anty… were you the one who caused the Governor to be stoned?”
“Don’t bother me, Sumy. Let me deal with what’s in my heart.”
Startled by her harsh tone, Sumayya stepped back, afraid she might strike her.
Governor Kachallah’s Torment and the Shadow of the Past
The Governor went home after switching off all his phones. He ordered that no one should be allowed entry to see him. Entering his room, he lay on his bed without even removing his shoes.
He had never imagined her hatred for him had grown this deep. It wasn’t the threat of removal from office, nor the stones thrown by thugs, that disturbed him. It was how she had dragged his daughter into it all—willing to destroy her life just to achieve her own ambition.
Please forgive me, leave the venue now—there are thugs waiting to stone you once the program ends.
Reading that message replayed everything in his mind. How else could she have known about the planned attack unless she had a hand in it?
To confirm his suspicion, he bent toward his Chief of Staff and whispered in his ear:
“Asiya is the journalist who writes for Climax, isn’t she?”
“Excellency…” COS whispered carefully, confirming his fear.
What baffled him most was how she had once written, calling him a rapist. If he truly were one, would he have spared her in the two months they had spent together?
He started wondering: Who was this Lami Ninja? It took him about five minutes to recall an incident fifteen years back.
When he was teaching at Congo University, many female students disturbed him—some with love proposals, others with indecent offers. His office was often littered with love letters. Because of this, he stopped allowing female students into his office. Any matter concerning them had to be discussed only in class. Even female staff often harassed him. This was one reason he loved Misturah, because she had no business with lecturers until she graduated.
There was one fourth-year student who always gave him seductive looks during lectures. Whenever their eyes met, she would bite her lip and wink. If she had a question, she would rise and stroke her chest while speaking. Once, she even came to his office; he chased her out. But somehow, she got cleaners to open his office for her.
One day, he entered his office and found her hiding naked behind the curtain. At first, he panicked—thinking she was a jinn or a madwoman.
“Just once, Dr. Saifuddeen, touch me. You don’t have to do anything else, just let your hand brush my body and I’ll be content.”
Except for his wife Bilkisu, he had never seen a naked woman in front of him until that day.
“Put on your clothes and get out of my office!” he shouted, eyes shut.
“Either you do as I say or I’ll frame you. I’ll scream until people rush in and see us like this, then I’ll claim you forced yourself on me.”
He tried to leave, but she blocked him. That was when he realized there were indeed forceful women. They struggled—he, trying to escape; she, trying to pin him down by force…
Bilkisu’s Stand, Umaru Kwom’s Schemes, and Asiya’s Plea
“Father, what’s happening? Where’s Saifuddeen? I didn’t see him around,” Bilkisu asked tearfully.
“Calm down, he’s fine.”
“Where is he?”
“Sit down first.”
She sat beside her father.
“He needs rest. Give him two hours before you go to his house.”
“No, Baba. He needs me. You don’t know his nature. He won’t speak out no matter what troubles him. I must go to him—I can’t live if something happens to him.”
“He specifically asked for solitude. He texted me about it. Let him rest.”
She wiped her face. “Baba, who is this prostitute, Lami Ninja?”
“When you traveled to America for childbirth, there was a student who accused Saifu falsely. She entered his office naked and attacked him. It was a scandal, but it was covered up because the girl was a lecturer’s mistress.”
“Why wasn’t I told? If I had known, I would’ve burnt that wretch alive. Who told her my husband belonged in the trash can?”
“That’s not the issue now. Umaru Kwom wants to use her to get Saifu removed. We must be cautious.”
“Baba, Saifuddeen never touched her. She’s lying—I know my husband.”
“I know too, but when it happened, people saw them together in his office. It’s…”
“Baba, nothing happened between them.” Bilkisu spoke with such certainty that even Alhaji Sani, who had once doubted, began to believe. After living with him for seventeen years, she knew what he was capable of—and what he wasn’t.
“As for that harlot, after this is over, I’ll have her face burnt.”
Alhaji Sani was stunned by his daughter’s fiery determination.
Meanwhile, Umaru Kwom had sheltered Lami Ninja since she arrived in the state. He already knew much about Saifuddeen’s past, having dug into his history from birth to his governorship. He found nothing incriminating, so he searched Congo University records until he uncovered the old scandal. Lami Ninja, now running a big club in Lagos and trafficking girls abroad, was the perfect tool.
Before she even told him, he knew she had once pursued Saifuddeen. But he pressured her to publicly claim he assaulted her and failed her course because she refused him. She accepted, not for money, but because he threatened to expose her illegal activities.
“What if they find out I lied?” she asked.
“You’re a woman. No one will doubt you,” he replied.
Despite the years gone by, part of her still longed for Saifuddeen. But she was trapped in a web of her own making.
Later, Asiya prepared herself and went to Saifuddeen’s house after being told he was there but refusing visitors. Her chest pounded as she climbed the stairs. She unlocked his door with the key she’d taken from Uwani. Inside, she found him freshly bathed, in a grey T-shirt and brown trousers, sitting on the bed writing.
She was relieved the door had opened. Their eyes met briefly before he lowered his gaze and continued writing. All her confidence melted when she saw him. He looked calm, smiling as always—as if he hadn’t just been stoned or threatened with removal.
“You came to check if my heart had stopped beating?” he said without looking up.
She fell to her knees. “I know you won’t believe me, but wallahi I didn’t know about these accusations until today. I didn’t write them. Please forgive me.”
He looked up at her.
“As a father, I doubt I’ll ever forgive you soon. As a Governor, I’ll allow you to continue serving as campaign staff.”
“Please, even if you divorce me, allow me to clear your name first.”
He laughed, showing his white teeth.
“Who told you I’ll divorce you?”
“Forgive me…”
“Forgive you—for betraying me? For trying to disgrace my daughter before the world? Or for having dealings with Umaru Kwom behind my back while married to me?”
Description
Chaos at Congo Stadium and Bilkisu’s Distress
“Bama yi…Bama yi…Bama yi! Remove Saifuddeen Kachallah! Remove Governor Kachallah!”
That was the chant of the thugs who disrupted the opening ceremony of Congo Stadium earlier this morning. As you saw, they were throwing stones everywhere, but reports confirmed that the Governor left the scene safely.
Bilkisu Kachallah quickly switched off the TV, her heart boiling. For the countless time, she dialed the Governor’s number, but his phone was switched off. Tears welled up in her eyes and began to fall—something rare for her. She could hardly recall the last time she cried.
“No one can remove you from that seat, no one can unseat you. They’re lying. You’ve never abused a woman—I can bet my life on that. Saifuddeen, please pick up your phone.”
Yes, she would quarrel with him, get angry with him—but her love was one, deep, and unwavering since she was young. She would never allow his dignity to be trampled upon as long as she breathed.
She wiped her tears and dialed another number.
“Find out who this Lami Ninja is.”
Saying that, she rose and entered her room. She would go to Kachallah House—maybe he went there. Her mind would not rest until she saw him.
For a long while, she had been anxiously trying to reach him. He should have seen her messages. She wanted him to scold her, to call her a hypocrite, a deceiver, an oppressor as he had before. Why hadn’t he sought protection? Why did he remain until the thugs came?
Her phone rang. She picked it up without checking the caller ID.
“Hello, Excellency.”
“I hope you’re satisfied with what you caused him today. Fear God, Asiya. Fear Allah.”
The call was cut.
She slowly lowered the phone from her ear.
“Ya Ubayd, forgive me. I admit I made a mistake. But even if the Governor divorces me, I will not leave until I clear his name. I promise.”
But who exactly was Lami Ninja?
She dialed Fou’ad Salisu’s number. After two rings, he answered.
“Fou’ad, who is Lami Ninja?”
“I too started investigating as soon as I heard the news. So far, I’ve discovered her real name is Lami Haladu. She attended Congo University when the Governor was a lecturer there. I’ve asked for updates on her current whereabouts and why she filed this case, but I haven’t gotten feedback yet. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Thank you.”
When she came out of the bathroom, Sumayya was waiting.
“Has the Governor returned?”
“No, the First Lady just went out—I think to see him.”
“Maybe he’s at Kachallah House,” Asiya murmured, sitting on the bed and burying her face in her lap.
“Anty… were you the one who caused the Governor to be stoned?”
“Don’t bother me, Sumy. Let me deal with what’s in my heart.”
Startled by her harsh tone, Sumayya stepped back, afraid she might strike her.
Governor Kachallah’s Torment and the Shadow of the Past
The Governor went home after switching off all his phones. He ordered that no one should be allowed entry to see him. Entering his room, he lay on his bed without even removing his shoes.
He had never imagined her hatred for him had grown this deep. It wasn’t the threat of removal from office, nor the stones thrown by thugs, that disturbed him. It was how she had dragged his daughter into it all—willing to destroy her life just to achieve her own ambition.
Please forgive me, leave the venue now—there are thugs waiting to stone you once the program ends.
Reading that message replayed everything in his mind. How else could she have known about the planned attack unless she had a hand in it?
To confirm his suspicion, he bent toward his Chief of Staff and whispered in his ear:
“Asiya is the journalist who writes for Climax, isn’t she?”
“Excellency…” COS whispered carefully, confirming his fear.
What baffled him most was how she had once written, calling him a rapist. If he truly were one, would he have spared her in the two months they had spent together?
He started wondering: Who was this Lami Ninja? It took him about five minutes to recall an incident fifteen years back.
When he was teaching at Congo University, many female students disturbed him—some with love proposals, others with indecent offers. His office was often littered with love letters. Because of this, he stopped allowing female students into his office. Any matter concerning them had to be discussed only in class. Even female staff often harassed him. This was one reason he loved Misturah, because she had no business with lecturers until she graduated.
There was one fourth-year student who always gave him seductive looks during lectures. Whenever their eyes met, she would bite her lip and wink. If she had a question, she would rise and stroke her chest while speaking. Once, she even came to his office; he chased her out. But somehow, she got cleaners to open his office for her.
One day, he entered his office and found her hiding naked behind the curtain. At first, he panicked—thinking she was a jinn or a madwoman.
“Just once, Dr. Saifuddeen, touch me. You don’t have to do anything else, just let your hand brush my body and I’ll be content.”
Except for his wife Bilkisu, he had never seen a naked woman in front of him until that day.
“Put on your clothes and get out of my office!” he shouted, eyes shut.
“Either you do as I say or I’ll frame you. I’ll scream until people rush in and see us like this, then I’ll claim you forced yourself on me.”
He tried to leave, but she blocked him. That was when he realized there were indeed forceful women. They struggled—he, trying to escape; she, trying to pin him down by force…
Bilkisu’s Stand, Umaru Kwom’s Schemes, and Asiya’s Plea
“Father, what’s happening? Where’s Saifuddeen? I didn’t see him around,” Bilkisu asked tearfully.
“Calm down, he’s fine.”
“Where is he?”
“Sit down first.”
She sat beside her father.
“He needs rest. Give him two hours before you go to his house.”
“No, Baba. He needs me. You don’t know his nature. He won’t speak out no matter what troubles him. I must go to him—I can’t live if something happens to him.”
“He specifically asked for solitude. He texted me about it. Let him rest.”
She wiped her face. “Baba, who is this prostitute, Lami Ninja?”
“When you traveled to America for childbirth, there was a student who accused Saifu falsely. She entered his office naked and attacked him. It was a scandal, but it was covered up because the girl was a lecturer’s mistress.”
“Why wasn’t I told? If I had known, I would’ve burnt that wretch alive. Who told her my husband belonged in the trash can?”
“That’s not the issue now. Umaru Kwom wants to use her to get Saifu removed. We must be cautious.”
“Baba, Saifuddeen never touched her. She’s lying—I know my husband.”
“I know too, but when it happened, people saw them together in his office. It’s…”
“Baba, nothing happened between them.” Bilkisu spoke with such certainty that even Alhaji Sani, who had once doubted, began to believe. After living with him for seventeen years, she knew what he was capable of—and what he wasn’t.
“As for that harlot, after this is over, I’ll have her face burnt.”
Alhaji Sani was stunned by his daughter’s fiery determination.
Meanwhile, Umaru Kwom had sheltered Lami Ninja since she arrived in the state. He already knew much about Saifuddeen’s past, having dug into his history from birth to his governorship. He found nothing incriminating, so he searched Congo University records until he uncovered the old scandal. Lami Ninja, now running a big club in Lagos and trafficking girls abroad, was the perfect tool.
Before she even told him, he knew she had once pursued Saifuddeen. But he pressured her to publicly claim he assaulted her and failed her course because she refused him. She accepted, not for money, but because he threatened to expose her illegal activities.
“What if they find out I lied?” she asked.
“You’re a woman. No one will doubt you,” he replied.
Despite the years gone by, part of her still longed for Saifuddeen. But she was trapped in a web of her own making.
Later, Asiya prepared herself and went to Saifuddeen’s house after being told he was there but refusing visitors. Her chest pounded as she climbed the stairs. She unlocked his door with the key she’d taken from Uwani. Inside, she found him freshly bathed, in a grey T-shirt and brown trousers, sitting on the bed writing.
She was relieved the door had opened. Their eyes met briefly before he lowered his gaze and continued writing. All her confidence melted when she saw him. He looked calm, smiling as always—as if he hadn’t just been stoned or threatened with removal.
“You came to check if my heart had stopped beating?” he said without looking up.
She fell to her knees. “I know you won’t believe me, but wallahi I didn’t know about these accusations until today. I didn’t write them. Please forgive me.”
He looked up at her.
“As a father, I doubt I’ll ever forgive you soon. As a Governor, I’ll allow you to continue serving as campaign staff.”
“Please, even if you divorce me, allow me to clear your name first.”
He laughed, showing his white teeth.
“Who told you I’ll divorce you?”
“Forgive me…”
“Forgive you—for betraying me? For trying to disgrace my daughter before the world? Or for having dealings with Umaru Kwom behind my back while married to me?”