The Girl Running From School and Sulaiman’s Struggle With Her
She was running, and her older brother Sulaiman was chasing her with a big whip, striking her repeatedly. She screamed as she ran in distress.
Sulaiman shouted, “I swear you will go to school today! I swear it!”
“You useless girl! Every day you must be beaten before you agree to go to school!”
She didn’t stop running, and he didn’t stop chasing and whipping her. She panted and cried, shouting, “I swear I won’t go! I told you all I don’t like school! I don’t want it but you won’t listen. Me and school don’t get along. We are not friends. I hate it.”
“I’ll deal with you today!” Sulaiman said angrily, while people around watched them. It was around 10 a.m., and everyone was used to seeing her being dragged to school with a whip because she wasn’t known to have sense, and nobody paid her attention.
Shapppp! Another lash landed on her back.
He chased her all the way to the school. She kept shouting, “I won’t understand anything! I told you I don’t have a brain for reading! No type of learning enters my head!”
She was still muttering when she entered the class. The teacher was inside, and she didn’t even greet him. She walked in with her strange manner—weak, dragging her body, stooping, swinging her foot carelessly. She walked neither like a boy nor a girl, without elegance or grace.
She found a place to sit. Her schoolbag rested on her stomach, her hijab pushed to the side. She sat near the window, opened it, and stuck her head outside, staring into the compound.
The teachers were already used to her behavior, so no one bothered with her. After the mathematics lesson, the teacher was about to leave when she turned, hissed loudly and said:
“Go and find X yourself. Every day you write 2a – 2b = 2ab, find x. Who will find it for you? Where is this x always going? Why is it never in class? Why doesn’t it stay on the board like a sensible student? Why is it always missing? If x was sensible, it would sit in class and let us look at it. But no, it’s always wandering around!”
The teacher ignored her out of irritation and walked out. The students laughed, but no one looked at her twice. She had no friends. Even in their big village, she had only one friend—Sakina, who had already finished secondary school and started a trade. Meanwhile, she was still in SS3 at age 21 because of constant absence.
Their village, though outside the city of Adamawa, was well-developed and civilized—almost like the city itself.
Nabeel, His Family, and the Chaos Around Marriage
A small, beautiful six-year-old girl ran upstairs wearing a pink short-sleeved gown. She entered a well-furnished bedroom and greeted warmly, “Yaya Nabeel, what happened to you?”
The handsome young man, known mostly by the nickname Lele, turned on his large bed, hugged his pillow, then opened his eyes to look at his little sister.
He said, “Fadila, go and tell Mimi and Affa to arrange marriage for me. I’ve grown up. I’ve finished my degree. I have work. What else am I waiting for?”
The little girl burst out laughing. “Okay Yaya, then add mine too so we can marry on the same day!”
He frowned. “I’m the one who has grown up. What do you know? Just go tell Affa and Mimi. Don’t say I sent you. Just tell them you think they should inform Uncle since they are Affa’s relatives. Tell them the marriage should be arranged for me.”
Fadila grabbed the message but added innocently, “But they won’t believe me. I’m still small.”
“Then I won’t talk to you again if you don’t tell them!” Nabeel warned.
She ran off immediately. Entering Affa’s quarters, she found Mimi. “Affa, they should marry Yaya Nabeel, but I won’t tell you he said it, because he didn’t.”
Affa instantly realized Nabeel had sent her. He frowned. “What is wrong with this boy? I want him to go abroad and get a higher degree, but he refuses. I’ve told our relatives to prepare his documents so he can go back for his master’s.”
Mimi tried to calm him. “Marriage is not haram. He is 29. He wants it. Maybe he has a reason. Don’t push him until he does something strange. You know he learned to drink lightly while abroad. Let’s settle his mind.”
Affa resisted, but Mimi kept persuading until he softened.
They agreed Nabeel should say who he wanted to marry.
Nabeel had no lover. The only girl he knew was Basma, his uncle’s daughter. It wasn’t love—just someone he could manage until he found real love later. So he chose Basma.
The families celebrated and took bride-price to her home.
But Basma had secretly insulted Nabeel on the phone without knowing it was him—thinking she was talking to someone else. When Nabeel realized she insulted him, he stormed to Affa’s room:
“I cancel the marriage! I don’t want Basma anymore—not at all! Let the bride-price be returned!”
Affa said, “You insisted on it. Now go and tell your uncle yourself.”
The next day at school, Basma and her friends saw Nabeel with his classmates. He frowned at her and said nothing. Her friends were shocked at how she ranted and boasted about insulting him on the phone.
She tried calling the number again—this time he answered and cut the call immediately.
Meanwhile, in another part of Adamawa, another girl emerged from her home crying—19 years old, wearing maroon and white uniform, her hijab crooked. Her brother chased her with a whip shouting that she must go to school, while she cried that she hated school and would never learn anything.
The entire village watched—this was their daily drama.
An elderly man complained to his wife, “We must take action. Look at her mates—three years out of secondary
school—yet she is 21 and still in SS3 because she refuses to attend.”
Description
The Girl Running From School and Sulaiman’s Struggle With Her
She was running, and her older brother Sulaiman was chasing her with a big whip, striking her repeatedly. She screamed as she ran in distress.
Sulaiman shouted, “I swear you will go to school today! I swear it!”
“You useless girl! Every day you must be beaten before you agree to go to school!”
She didn’t stop running, and he didn’t stop chasing and whipping her. She panted and cried, shouting, “I swear I won’t go! I told you all I don’t like school! I don’t want it but you won’t listen. Me and school don’t get along. We are not friends. I hate it.”
“I’ll deal with you today!” Sulaiman said angrily, while people around watched them. It was around 10 a.m., and everyone was used to seeing her being dragged to school with a whip because she wasn’t known to have sense, and nobody paid her attention.
Shapppp! Another lash landed on her back.
He chased her all the way to the school. She kept shouting, “I won’t understand anything! I told you I don’t have a brain for reading! No type of learning enters my head!”
She was still muttering when she entered the class. The teacher was inside, and she didn’t even greet him. She walked in with her strange manner—weak, dragging her body, stooping, swinging her foot carelessly. She walked neither like a boy nor a girl, without elegance or grace.
She found a place to sit. Her schoolbag rested on her stomach, her hijab pushed to the side. She sat near the window, opened it, and stuck her head outside, staring into the compound.
The teachers were already used to her behavior, so no one bothered with her. After the mathematics lesson, the teacher was about to leave when she turned, hissed loudly and said:
“Go and find X yourself. Every day you write 2a – 2b = 2ab, find x. Who will find it for you? Where is this x always going? Why is it never in class? Why doesn’t it stay on the board like a sensible student? Why is it always missing? If x was sensible, it would sit in class and let us look at it. But no, it’s always wandering around!”
The teacher ignored her out of irritation and walked out. The students laughed, but no one looked at her twice. She had no friends. Even in their big village, she had only one friend—Sakina, who had already finished secondary school and started a trade. Meanwhile, she was still in SS3 at age 21 because of constant absence.
Their village, though outside the city of Adamawa, was well-developed and civilized—almost like the city itself.
Nabeel, His Family, and the Chaos Around Marriage
A small, beautiful six-year-old girl ran upstairs wearing a pink short-sleeved gown. She entered a well-furnished bedroom and greeted warmly, “Yaya Nabeel, what happened to you?”
The handsome young man, known mostly by the nickname Lele, turned on his large bed, hugged his pillow, then opened his eyes to look at his little sister.
He said, “Fadila, go and tell Mimi and Affa to arrange marriage for me. I’ve grown up. I’ve finished my degree. I have work. What else am I waiting for?”
The little girl burst out laughing. “Okay Yaya, then add mine too so we can marry on the same day!”
He frowned. “I’m the one who has grown up. What do you know? Just go tell Affa and Mimi. Don’t say I sent you. Just tell them you think they should inform Uncle since they are Affa’s relatives. Tell them the marriage should be arranged for me.”
Fadila grabbed the message but added innocently, “But they won’t believe me. I’m still small.”
“Then I won’t talk to you again if you don’t tell them!” Nabeel warned.
She ran off immediately. Entering Affa’s quarters, she found Mimi. “Affa, they should marry Yaya Nabeel, but I won’t tell you he said it, because he didn’t.”
Affa instantly realized Nabeel had sent her. He frowned. “What is wrong with this boy? I want him to go abroad and get a higher degree, but he refuses. I’ve told our relatives to prepare his documents so he can go back for his master’s.”
Mimi tried to calm him. “Marriage is not haram. He is 29. He wants it. Maybe he has a reason. Don’t push him until he does something strange. You know he learned to drink lightly while abroad. Let’s settle his mind.”
Affa resisted, but Mimi kept persuading until he softened.
They agreed Nabeel should say who he wanted to marry.
Nabeel had no lover. The only girl he knew was Basma, his uncle’s daughter. It wasn’t love—just someone he could manage until he found real love later. So he chose Basma.
The families celebrated and took bride-price to her home.
But Basma had secretly insulted Nabeel on the phone without knowing it was him—thinking she was talking to someone else. When Nabeel realized she insulted him, he stormed to Affa’s room:
“I cancel the marriage! I don’t want Basma anymore—not at all! Let the bride-price be returned!”
Affa said, “You insisted on it. Now go and tell your uncle yourself.”
The next day at school, Basma and her friends saw Nabeel with his classmates. He frowned at her and said nothing. Her friends were shocked at how she ranted and boasted about insulting him on the phone.
She tried calling the number again—this time he answered and cut the call immediately.
Meanwhile, in another part of Adamawa, another girl emerged from her home crying—19 years old, wearing maroon and white uniform, her hijab crooked. Her brother chased her with a whip shouting that she must go to school, while she cried that she hated school and would never learn anything.
The entire village watched—this was their daily drama.
An elderly man complained to his wife, “We must take action. Look at her mates—three years out of secondary
school—yet she is 21 and still in SS3 because she refuses to attend.”