Abubakar was trembling by the time they climbed into the car. He sat in the back with Hashim while Sagir drove in silence.
“Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un,” Abubakar muttered under his breath. “I’ve fallen into a trial. Hafsat… is she really a prostitute?” He slumped back, pressing his head against the seat.
“Cool down, my brother,” Hashim said softly. “Take it easy.”
“Stop telling me to take it easy,” Abubakar shot back. “You know the promise I made to Lamido before he agreed to let me marry her. Even now I’m barely keeping within the conditions. What do you think will happen if they investigate and find this out?”
Sagir’s eyes stayed on the road. “Maybe she did that in the past, but from all I’ve seen, she’s not in the business now.”
Abubakar leaned forward. “I’m burning up with fever. Just take me to the hospital.”
“Please, Hamma, calm your mind,” Hashim said. “What hospital are you talking about?”
“Please, Sagir… I feel hot all over.”
Sagir hesitated. “I was hoping we’d go to Rahama. She’ll tell us the truth.”
“Enough!” Abubakar snapped. “Don’t mention her name to me again. I don’t want her. I won’t marry a prostitute.”
Eventually, sleep claimed him. When they reached the doctor’s office, Sagir explained the situation. The doctor examined Abubakar, then looked at them gravely. “He’s under severe emotional distress, the kind that can strain the heart in a single moment. He needs to rest for a few days and avoid anything that might upset him.”
They agreed to watch over him, though talk of Hafsat kept slipping back into their conversation.
Later, Sagir speculated aloud, “I think Hafsat said that to make Abubakar leave her.”
Hashim frowned. “I’m not sure. But I know our family won’t accept this marriage if it’s true. We don’t marry outside our lineage lightly.”
Sagir sighed. “But you’ve seen how much he loves her. Look at what’s happened to him in just one night. He could die from this. And if the first marriage to an outsider ends badly, the elders will use it as proof against future ones.”
Hashim nodded grimly.
Around eleven, Sagir fetched a prayer mat from the car, prayed, and left for the night.
Abubakar woke near four in the morning. His body was weak, his chest heavy. He placed a hand over his heart. He couldn’t recall the details of the previous day, but his chest tightened at the thought of Hafsat.
“Hafsat… Hafsat! A prostitute!” he whispered bitterly.
He turned onto his right side. “May God take the love I have for her out of my heart. I’m a jealous man—too jealous. The thought that she was once married burns me, but to think she’s… that…” His jaw clenched. “Any man, no matter how filthy, could have had her. And I almost married her.”
He knew himself: when he loved, he loved fiercely. But when something promised to destroy his peace, he could walk away. “By the day after tomorrow,” he thought, “she’ll be gone from my mind.”
The call to prayer from the hospital mosque broke his thoughts. He nudged Hashim awake. “It’s time,” he murmured in Fulfulde. But when he stood, dizziness forced him to sit back down.
After Hashim left, Abubakar dragged himself to the bathroom, splashed cold water over his body, and prayed sitting down, too weak to stand. By the time he finished, a shiver ran through him and the doctor stormed in, scolding him for pouring cold water on himself so early in the morning.
---
Meanwhile, Sagir returned home to find Rahama waiting anxiously.
“Did you see Hafsat?” she asked the moment he stepped inside.
He sat down heavily. “Bring me water first.”
After drinking, he asked, “She’s not related to you, right?”
Rahama blinked. “Why do you ask?”
“She told us she’s a prostitute, living alone.”
Rahama gasped. “Why would she say such a thing?”
“She said it in front of Abubakar. Now he’s in the hospital because of it.”
Rahama’s brow furrowed. “Then let me go to her house tomorrow. If she agrees, I’ll tell you the truth. I think she said it just to push him away.”
Sagir nodded. “If they part ways, it’ll hurt both of them. She’s not well herself right now.”
When Rahama reached Hafsat’s home, she found her lying listlessly on a mat. “No school today? Where’s your aunt?”
“She’s inside.”
The sight of Hafsat’s pale face alarmed Rahama. She tried to get her to come to the hospital, but Hafsat shook her head. “If I die, take care of my boy. Tell my family I’m sorry.”
“This isn’t a death illness,” Rahama protested. “It’s the illness of loving Abubakar. And God willing, you’ll have him.”
With Sagir’s gentle persuasion, Hafsat finally agreed to go. The doctor examined her and noted that her heart was under strain and her blood pressure high.
Sagir went to Abubakar’s room where Hashim was on the phone. After greetings, Abubakar asked Sagir to tell Rahama to bring food for Hashim, who suffered from ulcers.
Sagir explained, “Rahama’s here at the hospital with Hafsat. She was unwell.”
Abubakar tensed. “What happened to her?” he asked quickly, then covered his concern with a scoff and lay back.
---
When Abba called, Hashim started to explain the situation, but Abubakar signaled frantically for him to hide the truth about Hafsat.
“She’s fine,” Hashim lied. “Abubakar’s just sick. The doctor says it’s a heart condition.”
“We’ll come tomorrow,” Abba said.
After the call, Abubakar warned, “Don’t tell them about Hafsat. If they hear she’s a prostitute, they’ll never approve—and any hope of breaking tradition for future generations will be gone.”
---
The next day, Abba arrived with relatives. They were visibly worried, though Abubakar insisted it was nothing serious. When asked about Hafsat, he said casually, “She’s gone to Kaduna. She’ll be back tomorrow.”
Hashim could only stare at him in silence.
---
Days passed. Abubakar’s love for Hafsat hadn’t faded, despite his words. The thought of her lying sick in the same hospital made him restless. At last, he asked a nurse where she was and went to her room.
Through the window, he saw her sleeping. She had grown thin. He pressed a hand against the glass. Why did you betray me? he thought. Why let yourself become a place for filth?
He closed his eyes, pain twisting his face. I still love you, Hafsat. I’ve never loved anyone like this.
Turning away from the window, he brushed away tears just as Hashim and Sagir appeared.
“Where are you coming from?” Sagir asked. “Were you with Hafsat?”
Abubakar snorted. “What would I do there? I just walked past.”
Description
Abubakar was trembling by the time they climbed into the car. He sat in the back with Hashim while Sagir drove in silence.
“Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un,” Abubakar muttered under his breath. “I’ve fallen into a trial. Hafsat… is she really a prostitute?” He slumped back, pressing his head against the seat.
“Cool down, my brother,” Hashim said softly. “Take it easy.”
“Stop telling me to take it easy,” Abubakar shot back. “You know the promise I made to Lamido before he agreed to let me marry her. Even now I’m barely keeping within the conditions. What do you think will happen if they investigate and find this out?”
Sagir’s eyes stayed on the road. “Maybe she did that in the past, but from all I’ve seen, she’s not in the business now.”
Abubakar leaned forward. “I’m burning up with fever. Just take me to the hospital.”
“Please, Hamma, calm your mind,” Hashim said. “What hospital are you talking about?”
“Please, Sagir… I feel hot all over.”
Sagir hesitated. “I was hoping we’d go to Rahama. She’ll tell us the truth.”
“Enough!” Abubakar snapped. “Don’t mention her name to me again. I don’t want her. I won’t marry a prostitute.”
Eventually, sleep claimed him. When they reached the doctor’s office, Sagir explained the situation. The doctor examined Abubakar, then looked at them gravely. “He’s under severe emotional distress, the kind that can strain the heart in a single moment. He needs to rest for a few days and avoid anything that might upset him.”
They agreed to watch over him, though talk of Hafsat kept slipping back into their conversation.
Later, Sagir speculated aloud, “I think Hafsat said that to make Abubakar leave her.”
Hashim frowned. “I’m not sure. But I know our family won’t accept this marriage if it’s true. We don’t marry outside our lineage lightly.”
Sagir sighed. “But you’ve seen how much he loves her. Look at what’s happened to him in just one night. He could die from this. And if the first marriage to an outsider ends badly, the elders will use it as proof against future ones.”
Hashim nodded grimly.
Around eleven, Sagir fetched a prayer mat from the car, prayed, and left for the night.
Abubakar woke near four in the morning. His body was weak, his chest heavy. He placed a hand over his heart. He couldn’t recall the details of the previous day, but his chest tightened at the thought of Hafsat.
“Hafsat… Hafsat! A prostitute!” he whispered bitterly.
He turned onto his right side. “May God take the love I have for her out of my heart. I’m a jealous man—too jealous. The thought that she was once married burns me, but to think she’s… that…” His jaw clenched. “Any man, no matter how filthy, could have had her. And I almost married her.”
He knew himself: when he loved, he loved fiercely. But when something promised to destroy his peace, he could walk away. “By the day after tomorrow,” he thought, “she’ll be gone from my mind.”
The call to prayer from the hospital mosque broke his thoughts. He nudged Hashim awake. “It’s time,” he murmured in Fulfulde. But when he stood, dizziness forced him to sit back down.
After Hashim left, Abubakar dragged himself to the bathroom, splashed cold water over his body, and prayed sitting down, too weak to stand. By the time he finished, a shiver ran through him and the doctor stormed in, scolding him for pouring cold water on himself so early in the morning.
---
Meanwhile, Sagir returned home to find Rahama waiting anxiously.
“Did you see Hafsat?” she asked the moment he stepped inside.
He sat down heavily. “Bring me water first.”
After drinking, he asked, “She’s not related to you, right?”
Rahama blinked. “Why do you ask?”
“She told us she’s a prostitute, living alone.”
Rahama gasped. “Why would she say such a thing?”
“She said it in front of Abubakar. Now he’s in the hospital because of it.”
Rahama’s brow furrowed. “Then let me go to her house tomorrow. If she agrees, I’ll tell you the truth. I think she said it just to push him away.”
Sagir nodded. “If they part ways, it’ll hurt both of them. She’s not well herself right now.”
When Rahama reached Hafsat’s home, she found her lying listlessly on a mat. “No school today? Where’s your aunt?”
“She’s inside.”
The sight of Hafsat’s pale face alarmed Rahama. She tried to get her to come to the hospital, but Hafsat shook her head. “If I die, take care of my boy. Tell my family I’m sorry.”
“This isn’t a death illness,” Rahama protested. “It’s the illness of loving Abubakar. And God willing, you’ll have him.”
With Sagir’s gentle persuasion, Hafsat finally agreed to go. The doctor examined her and noted that her heart was under strain and her blood pressure high.
Sagir went to Abubakar’s room where Hashim was on the phone. After greetings, Abubakar asked Sagir to tell Rahama to bring food for Hashim, who suffered from ulcers.
Sagir explained, “Rahama’s here at the hospital with Hafsat. She was unwell.”
Abubakar tensed. “What happened to her?” he asked quickly, then covered his concern with a scoff and lay back.
---
When Abba called, Hashim started to explain the situation, but Abubakar signaled frantically for him to hide the truth about Hafsat.
“She’s fine,” Hashim lied. “Abubakar’s just sick. The doctor says it’s a heart condition.”
“We’ll come tomorrow,” Abba said.
After the call, Abubakar warned, “Don’t tell them about Hafsat. If they hear she’s a prostitute, they’ll never approve—and any hope of breaking tradition for future generations will be gone.”
---
The next day, Abba arrived with relatives. They were visibly worried, though Abubakar insisted it was nothing serious. When asked about Hafsat, he said casually, “She’s gone to Kaduna. She’ll be back tomorrow.”
Hashim could only stare at him in silence.
---
Days passed. Abubakar’s love for Hafsat hadn’t faded, despite his words. The thought of her lying sick in the same hospital made him restless. At last, he asked a nurse where she was and went to her room.
Through the window, he saw her sleeping. She had grown thin. He pressed a hand against the glass. Why did you betray me? he thought. Why let yourself become a place for filth?
He closed his eyes, pain twisting his face. I still love you, Hafsat. I’ve never loved anyone like this.
Turning away from the window, he brushed away tears just as Hashim and Sagir appeared.
“Where are you coming from?” Sagir asked. “Were you with Hafsat?”
Abubakar snorted. “What would I do there? I just walked past.”
The two men exchanged a knowing smile.