Well, according to Bilyn Abdul, or rather the understanding I have drawn from my life experiences until today, I can say COURAGE is the foundation of LIFE. PATIENCE is what guides the breath and grants long life to every creature in peace.
Whenever people ask us, what is our adornment? the common answer that first comes to the heart and lips is (UPBRINGING). But for me, I say absolutely not. I can even boldly declare it, whether whispered or shouted. Do not be surprised if my perspective sounds strict or stubborn. I am not saying upbringing cannot be called an adornment, but the absolute truth is that RELIGION is the highest and purest form of adornment in my view.
I stand firmly on this belief because I respect my religion as the answer to everything in life. The world itself is the first school for every living soul, for it is within it that we struggle and strive in hopes of attaining the eternal reward. The way you handle life is how it gives you honor and value in return.
Every soul fears DEATH, but that doesn’t stop us from yearning for LIFE with the ultimate goal of entering PARADISE, where everything beyond imagination awaits. Despite knowing our days are numbered, we still plan and dream for tomorrow even though we may not live to see it. Truly, a human’s life only plays out according to what is written in their book of destiny. No matter how much effort one puts into chasing or avoiding the world, one cannot escape what has been decreed.
My Name and Childhood Trials
Let me not take you too far, I will open everything for you so you can better understand what I want to tell Bilyn Abdul and all of you.
My name is Samraah Abdul-Wahab Gwarzo. In reality, I am no one special, just the daughter of Malam Abdul-Wahab Gwarzo. My father was not a ruler, not a wealthy man, nor a great scholar. He was a driver working for a rich family. Sadly, Allah took his life in a car accident when I was only seven years old. He left behind only three children with my mother, but not long after, Allah also took my mother’s life after giving birth to my younger brother. At that time, I had not even reached three years of age.
We were three: my elder brother Musaddiq, myself Samraah, and our youngest Hafizzullah. After our mother’s death, my uncle, Imam (our mother’s younger brother), took us in. His wife completed breastfeeding Hafizzullah alongside her own child, born around the same time as our mother gave birth. Thus, the two grew up like twins.
Our father left behind some inheritance—farmlands, a house, and some money. Our mother also left farmland she inherited. Since we were too young, our uncle took full control of everything, farming the lands, renting out the house, and managing our affairs. He raised us, paying for our schooling, though life under his roof was far from easy due to his wife’s cruelty. She constantly favored her own children over us—even with food, clothes, and schooling. They went to private schools while we went to government schools. Even our bedrooms were not the same quality. Shockingly, even Uncle himself treated us differently, and we had to endure silently.
As we grew, I especially became the target of their harshness, because unlike my siblings, I had a stubborn spirit. Though I was quiet and reserved, I never ignored injustice. If their children raised a finger against me, I would break it metaphorically to find peace. This enraged my uncle’s wife and made me suffer more than my brothers. Still, we endured with patience, until Allah helped us complete secondary school.
Turning Point: Scholarship and a New Path
After secondary school, our uncle said he had no money to send us to university, despite spending on his own children. I confronted him, asking him to use part of our inheritance to pay for our studies. For this, he rained insults on me and drove me out of his sitting room. My elder brother Musaddiq was upset, but he only scolded me, saying I shouldn’t have spoken that way since Uncle was our guardian. I left in tears.
Two days later, Musaddiq brought good news that he had found a place to learn auto-mechanics. I wanted higher education, but I supported him nonetheless. Soon, he began working, while I became more burdened with house chores. Still, I managed to sneak away to attend Islamiyya (Qur’anic school) despite beatings from my uncle’s wife. After a year, I successfully completed the recitation of the Qur’an, though no proper celebration was held for me except the small support of my brother.
Then came the day that changed everything: Malam Saminu, one of our teachers, visited our uncle and announced that I had been awarded a scholarship to continue my studies. My joy—and that of my brothers—was beyond description. However, my uncle’s wife and her children were openly jealous. They even tried to deny it at first until Malam Saminu warned them that the government would take action if I was prevented. Left with no choice, they allowed me to go. That year, I enrolled at Bayero University Kano (B.U.K), the same university where my cousins Baby and Abbas were also studying.
This was the first stage of a new chapter in my life—the opening of my true story. At seventeen, I entered university, determined to pursue my dreams despite the jealousy and opposition around me.
Description
Courage, Patience, and True Adornment
Well, according to Bilyn Abdul, or rather the understanding I have drawn from my life experiences until today, I can say COURAGE is the foundation of LIFE. PATIENCE is what guides the breath and grants long life to every creature in peace.
Whenever people ask us, what is our adornment? the common answer that first comes to the heart and lips is (UPBRINGING). But for me, I say absolutely not. I can even boldly declare it, whether whispered or shouted. Do not be surprised if my perspective sounds strict or stubborn. I am not saying upbringing cannot be called an adornment, but the absolute truth is that RELIGION is the highest and purest form of adornment in my view.
I stand firmly on this belief because I respect my religion as the answer to everything in life. The world itself is the first school for every living soul, for it is within it that we struggle and strive in hopes of attaining the eternal reward. The way you handle life is how it gives you honor and value in return.
Every soul fears DEATH, but that doesn’t stop us from yearning for LIFE with the ultimate goal of entering PARADISE, where everything beyond imagination awaits. Despite knowing our days are numbered, we still plan and dream for tomorrow even though we may not live to see it. Truly, a human’s life only plays out according to what is written in their book of destiny. No matter how much effort one puts into chasing or avoiding the world, one cannot escape what has been decreed.
My Name and Childhood Trials
Let me not take you too far, I will open everything for you so you can better understand what I want to tell Bilyn Abdul and all of you.
My name is Samraah Abdul-Wahab Gwarzo. In reality, I am no one special, just the daughter of Malam Abdul-Wahab Gwarzo. My father was not a ruler, not a wealthy man, nor a great scholar. He was a driver working for a rich family. Sadly, Allah took his life in a car accident when I was only seven years old. He left behind only three children with my mother, but not long after, Allah also took my mother’s life after giving birth to my younger brother. At that time, I had not even reached three years of age.
We were three: my elder brother Musaddiq, myself Samraah, and our youngest Hafizzullah. After our mother’s death, my uncle, Imam (our mother’s younger brother), took us in. His wife completed breastfeeding Hafizzullah alongside her own child, born around the same time as our mother gave birth. Thus, the two grew up like twins.
Our father left behind some inheritance—farmlands, a house, and some money. Our mother also left farmland she inherited. Since we were too young, our uncle took full control of everything, farming the lands, renting out the house, and managing our affairs. He raised us, paying for our schooling, though life under his roof was far from easy due to his wife’s cruelty. She constantly favored her own children over us—even with food, clothes, and schooling. They went to private schools while we went to government schools. Even our bedrooms were not the same quality. Shockingly, even Uncle himself treated us differently, and we had to endure silently.
As we grew, I especially became the target of their harshness, because unlike my siblings, I had a stubborn spirit. Though I was quiet and reserved, I never ignored injustice. If their children raised a finger against me, I would break it metaphorically to find peace. This enraged my uncle’s wife and made me suffer more than my brothers. Still, we endured with patience, until Allah helped us complete secondary school.
Turning Point: Scholarship and a New Path
After secondary school, our uncle said he had no money to send us to university, despite spending on his own children. I confronted him, asking him to use part of our inheritance to pay for our studies. For this, he rained insults on me and drove me out of his sitting room. My elder brother Musaddiq was upset, but he only scolded me, saying I shouldn’t have spoken that way since Uncle was our guardian. I left in tears.
Two days later, Musaddiq brought good news that he had found a place to learn auto-mechanics. I wanted higher education, but I supported him nonetheless. Soon, he began working, while I became more burdened with house chores. Still, I managed to sneak away to attend Islamiyya (Qur’anic school) despite beatings from my uncle’s wife. After a year, I successfully completed the recitation of the Qur’an, though no proper celebration was held for me except the small support of my brother.
Then came the day that changed everything: Malam Saminu, one of our teachers, visited our uncle and announced that I had been awarded a scholarship to continue my studies. My joy—and that of my brothers—was beyond description. However, my uncle’s wife and her children were openly jealous. They even tried to deny it at first until Malam Saminu warned them that the government would take action if I was prevented. Left with no choice, they allowed me to go. That year, I enrolled at Bayero University Kano (B.U.K), the same university where my cousins Baby and Abbas were also studying.
This was the first stage of a new chapter in my life—the opening of my true story. At seventeen, I entered university, determined to pursue my dreams despite the jealousy and opposition around me.