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She covered her ears with her hands because she was tired of hearing the insults the Tuareg security guard (Buzu) was hurling at her. "You, if you are a witch who has possessed someone, wallahi, it will take a miracle to find a cure for it!"
"I told you Hajiya isn't around, yet you keep coming every single day! Don't you have a heart, or did a dog lick it away? A young girl like you with such stubbornness, looking at people with those wide, staring eyes like a male cat looking for a mate, staring without shame! You are truly a brat!"
She raised her head slowly, looking at him as she felt the weight of his humiliation. Her eyes filled with tears, her small lips began to tremble, and her facial expression completely changed.
He expected the girl to mouth back at him, knowing that today's youth never stay quiet when provoked. He stared intently at her. He watched her step backward, thinking she was leaving, but instead, she found a spot against the wall of the house, squatted down, buried her head between her knees, and began to weep in a heart-wrenching manner.
He stood there watching her, a wave of regret washing over him. Deep down, he felt he had wronged her. As a Muslim, he realized he had failed to show understanding toward this young girl who frequented the gate every day. He had never bothered to ask himself why she kept coming. He had driven her away like a dog countless times, yet it never stopped her from coming back the next day.
With a heavy heart, he walked over to where she was, squatted in front of her, and said, "Hey, that's enough crying! Lift your head and tell me what is wrong with you. Why do you come here every day looking for Hajiya?"
Lifting her head, her face completely messy with tears and mucus, she said amidst choked sobs, "I come looking for Hajiya because I heard she helps young girls find domestic work so they can earn money."
He fell silent, staring at her before asking, "But why are you looking for a job? You're just a child. Aren't there adults in your household?"
She shook her head. "No, there is no one. We have nobody. It's just me and my sisters, and they are sick and admitted to the hospital. The doctor said they need surgery, and I don't have the money because it's too much. That's why I want to get a job to save money for their surgery so they don't die and leave me all alone!" She finished, burying her head back down, crying.
Now he understood why she insisted on seeing Hajiya. In his heart, he thought, “This poor creature is in deep distress, so young. But she has good intentions!”
Taking her hand, he said, "Wipe your tears, that's enough. I will help you see Hajiya. Come on, let's go sit on the bench."
She stood up and followed him, and they sat together on the bench. After a brief silence, he said, "Be quiet, stop crying. Allah is the protector of His servants. Even if a person has no one, as long as they believe in Allah, He will be their guardian. Keep praying; your sisters will get better, and you will play together again."
She smiled, comforted by his words. He reached out and poured some black tea (ruwan bunu) that he had brewed in his small metal kettle. He had two small cups that he used for tea. She kept peeking at the small metal kettle, fascinated by it and its contents. He poured some for her and handed it over. She accepted it with both hands; she hadn't eaten anything since the previous day. He poured some for himself in the other cup, sipping it while telling her the traditional folktale of Gizo and Koki.
She didn't really understand what he was saying; her mind was entirely captured by the delicious, sweetened black tea. She sipped it slowly. He refilled her cup nearly three times until she finished it. Finally, he joked, "By Allah, you have quite an appetite! You've finished all my black tea. Once Hajiya finds you a job and you start working, you'll have to pay me back for my tea!"
She smiled as she listened to him, amused by how he kept addressing her as a male (using masculine pronouns), even though he wasn't blind and could clearly see she was wearing female clothing.
By evening, Hajiya still hadn't returned. When it was time for the late afternoon (Asr) prayer, the guard opened the small gate door and led her inside. He fetched water in a kettle, they performed ablution together, and he laid out a mat. He led the prayer, and she prayed behind him. After finishing, they remained on the prayer mat—he counting his prayer beads (cazbi) and she lost in deep thought. By twilight (Maghrib), they prayed again. Before completing their prayers, they heard the sound of Hajiya’s car arriving.
Joy filled her heart; today, God willing, she would finally meet Hajiya. As soon as they finished praying, the guard quickly opened the gate. Hajiya drove in with her massive car and headed to the parking space. He closed the gate and followed the car, showering her with praises as usual.
Overjoyed, the girl couldn't stop smiling. She remained on the prayer mat, waiting for the guard to pitch her case to Hajiya. The guard opened the car door, and Hajiya stepped out. She was a plump, well-rested woman with a very fair complexion, though she clearly used bleaching creams. She wore an expensive blue lace dress adorned with stones, looking incredibly beautiful. Her headscarf was stylishly tied, her fingers glittered with diamond rings, and she wore a diamond necklace. She had light makeup, large beautiful eyes, a long nose, and vibrant red lipstick.
Respectfully, the guard said, "Welcome back, Hajjaju Makkatu!"
Wrinkling her nose with exhaustion, she replied, "Thank you, Aku, king of chatter! Did anyone come looking for me while I was away?" She asked this while opening the back door of the car because she hadn't returned alone; she brought young girls from the village.
The guard replied, "Yes, many people came, but I didn't note down their names. I just told them you weren't around. However, there is this one child who comes looking for you every single day. Today, I insisted they wait for you."
She looked over and saw the young girl wearing a hijab sitting on the prayer mat. She then turned her attention to the girls in the car who refused to step out despite the door being open. Snapping her tongue, she asked, "Are you planning to sleep in the car?"
They grinned, and one chatterbox among them said, "Hajiya, wallahi this car is so comfortable! The cold air hitting my heart makes me never want to leave."
Hajiya shook her head with a small smile. "This is A.C. cold. Once we go inside, there is A.C. everywhere."
Delighted, the five girls stepped out. They looked rugged and unkempt, as if rescued from a predator's mouth. Their clothes were terribly wrinkled—unmatched tops, wrappers, and headscarves. They wore mismatched shoes and terrible, smeared makeup; their red lipstick stretched from their lips to their cheeks like witches. They had dark spots dotted from their noses to their foreheads and kept scratching their heads.
This was how Hajiya scouted them from remote villages, cleaned them up, and found them domestic jobs, taking a commission from their earnings. Turning to the guard, she said, "Bring that girl inside." Then she warned the village girls, "Let's go inside. But let me warn you, any girl who misbehaves will be sent right back to her village to go back to hawking fura at the marketplace."
They entered the living room, and the young girl followed. The village girls stared in awe at the luxurious decor, even scrambling to sit on the plush, comfy couches. Hajiya barked an order at them, "Stop! Don't you dare sit on my couches! Sit on the carpet spread out there. Act like civilized women!"
They settled down quickly on the carpet. The young girl, who possessed an innate poise unlike the village girls, found a spot to sit by herself, while the others huddled tightly together like canned fish. Hajiya walked further inside and called for her maid, "Larai, Larai! Where are you? The house feels completely empty." Larai emerged yawning, looking like she just woke up.
"Welcome back, Hajiya. Wallahi, sleep overtook me. I took some cold medicine, and it knocked me out."
Hajiya rolled her eyes. "I don't believe you. Always taking cold medicine. Are you sure you haven't started abusing drugs?" she joked.
Larai laughed. "Oh Hajiya, God forbid I start abusing drugs at my old age."
Hajiya smiled. "Alright! Is there any food? I brought some children from the village."
Larai shook her head. "No, Hajiya. I didn't expect you back today, otherwise, I would have cooked."
Hajiya sighed. "Well, it's my fault for not informing you. I know we have bread. Just make them some tea and Indomie noodles." Larai complied and headed to the kitchen. Hajiya went to her room to freshen up and change.
The young girl prayed silently in her heart that she would get this job to save her suffering siblings. Suddenly, one of the village girls spoke to her: "Hey, you, turn on the TV so we can watch."
She shook her head, not because she didn't know how, but out of fear that Hajiya might scold and dismiss her. She heard them whispering, "What a liar. She just doesn't want to turn it on, malicious girl."
She glared back at them. "Yes, I know how, but I won't turn it on. Don't you have hands to do it yourselves?" They fell silent, surprised by her sharp tongue, realizing she wasn't a pushover.
Hajiya emerged wearing cream-colored pajamas (top and trousers) with her hair tied up in a ribbon, holding an Infinix Hot 10 phone. Seeing her, the girls sat up straight. Hajiya sat on the three-seater couch, positioning herself to address them. The young girl leaned against the two-seater on the right, while the village girls faced Hajiya from the left.
Hajiya began calmly, "I have already explained everything to you girls, right?" They nodded. "Now, what's left is to train you on how to do your jobs. You can't go to people's houses looking filthy and unkempt. You must learn personal hygiene, environmental cleanliness, and how to hygienically prepare food. You have a lot to learn from me, and God willing, I will guide you."
She then turned to the young girl. "Young lady, you've been very quiet. I don't know you. Why are you looking for me?"
The girl opened her mouth to speak, but seeing the village girls staring at her like rabbits made her stutter and freeze.
Hajiya barked at the village girls, "What is wrong with you all? Staring like gossips!" They looked down but kept their ears sharp.
In a soft voice, the girl began, "I heard you help children find domestic work. Please, I came so you could help me find a job too."
Hajiya pressed her hand to her head. "Oh no! If I knew that's why you came, I would have told you to go home earlier. Right now, nobody has requested a housemaid. These village girls are the last batch I'm delivering to clients I already promised. No one else has reached out to me. I'm sorry, my daughter."
It felt as if a hammer had struck the girl's head. Her heart sank and tears welled up. She had suffered so much, trekking to this house daily. Remembering her siblings, she knew she couldn't give up. No one would give her money for free without wanting something sinister in return.
On the verge of bursting into tears, she pleaded, "Please help me, wallahi I can do any kind of work! My siblings are bedridden in the hospital and need surgery. We don't have the money the doctor demanded, and we have no one to help us. I am the only one struggling to raise the funds."
Seeing her desperate pleading, Hajiya felt a deep pang of pity. "That's enough, wipe your tears. How much did the doctor say the surgery costs?"
"Eight hundred thousand Naira," she replied, wiping her tears.
Hajiya gasped at the amount. "If I had it, I would have contributed, but things are so expensive now that money doesn't last in my hands. But night has fallen; where is your home so I can take you back? Or do you want to sleep here tonight and leave tomorrow?"
The girl quickly replied, "I will stay here. No one is at home anyway; they are all at the hospital. I already said my goodbyes to them and promised not to return until I get the money. I can't bear to see them in that agonizing state."
Hajiya agreed. "Alright. Tomorrow I will look into it, and we will visit the hospital together. I don't take on a child without her parents or guardians knowing." The girl agreed.
Larai walked in with a tray containing three loaves of bread, a jug of tea, and small cups. She set them down and returned to the kitchen.
Hafsat Bature
(Boss Lady)
Page 3-4
As soon as the village girls saw the bread, they lost all composure and reached out greedily. Seeing this, Hajiya personally distributed the portions. Larai returned with a small tray containing noodles (taliya) and set it down. The village girls ate voraciously, stuffing food into their mouths with both hands. The young girl ate slowly, watching them. Her mind drifted back to her suffering siblings, and the thought ruined her appetite.
After eating, Hajiya led them to a designated bedroom where her recruits slept, said goodnight, and left. Immediately, the village girls scrambled onto the room's single bed, spreading their legs wide to block the young girl from joining them.
The girl smiled to herself. "Oh Lord, what a life. A bed is the least of my worries. My sisters are my only concern."
She took off her hijab. She opened a wardrobe built into the wall; it held nothing substantial, just a few local fabric wrappers (atampa). She put her hijab inside and closed it. She went into the clean, white bathroom. Standing before the mirror, she looked at her beautiful face. She turned on the tap and washed her face. She removed her hair tie, revealing two long, neatly braided cornrows stretching from her head down to her waist. She had rich, smooth, dark-brown hair with soft baby hairs framing her face.
Exiting the bathroom, she found the village girls snoring loudly like rams. She reopened the wardrobe, took out one of the fabric wrappers, spread it on the floor, and lay down to sleep.
The next morning, they set out early. Hajiya drove while the girl sat in the passenger seat, gazing out the window. Hajiya asked, "You still hasn't told me your name or your age. I need to know."
The girl smiled. "My name is Sehrish, but our mother (Oumma) calls me Rishi. I am exactly 17 years old."
Hajiya nodded. "Wow, a beautiful name for a beautiful girl."
"Thanks," Sehrish replied. They remained silent until they reached the hospital.
Sehrish led Hajiya straight to the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) where her sisters were admitted. As they walked in, a beautiful young girl suddenly rushed over and hugged Sehrish tightly. Hajiya gasped in absolute shock; she had never seen individuals who looked so identical in her life. There was not a single atom of difference between them. For a moment, Hajiya grew deeply confused, unable to tell Sehrish apart from the sister who hugged her.
Hajiya's bewilderment deepened when she looked at the third sister lying helplessly on the hospital bed, hooked to an oxygen machine, fighting for her life. It was a heartbreaking sight. This sister was also an exact mirror image. They were identical triplets.
The sister who hugged Sehrish was weeping bitterly. Sehrish wept too, gently patting her back. "Jahad, stop crying. It breaks my heart. Everything will be fine, Insha Allah."
Jahad pulled away and said, "I'm crying because the doctor said if we don't pay for Husanna's surgery, she will die. And right now, our bed space allocation has expired; they are going to discharge us because we don't even have money for medication." Sehrish felt a wave of sheer panic.
Hajiya stood frozen, deeply moved by the tragic scene. Jahad had a bandaged, bloody wound on her forehead and an intravenous cannula in her hand, showing she was receiving blood or fluids. Hajiya became desperate to hear the backstory of these triplets, who had clearly survived immense hardship.
Sehrish broke Hajiya's train of thought: "Jahad, this is Hajiya. Greet her and thank her. She is going to help me find a job so I can raise the money for your treatments."
Jahad stepped forward, wiping her tears, and greeted politely, "Good morning, Hajiya."
Hajiya smiled, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Good morning dear, how are you all feeling?"
Jahad replied, "Alhamdulillah, I am getting better. But Husanna's condition is worsening. The doctor said even if the surgery is performed, there's no guarantee she will fully recover..."
Overcome with grief, Jahad couldn't finish her sentence. Hajiya pulled her into a warm embrace. "I'm so sorry, my daughter. Stop crying. Insha Allah, everything will be fine."
Jahad sobbed, "I'll stop. Thank you so much."
Sehrish walked over to Husanna, who was hovering between life and death. Sitting on the edge of the bed with tear-filled eyes, she whispered, "May Allah heal you, my sister. I feel your pain. Whoever caused us this suffering will never find peace in this world. Allah will judge between us and that cruel, wicked oppressor..." She buried her face on Husanna's body, weeping from the depths of her soul.
An old woman who was looking after them walked in holding some medications she had just retrieved. She found Hajiya comforting Jahad. Seeing her enter, they turned to look. The old woman smiled and said, "Welcome, Hajiya. Is that really you?"
Hajiya smiled back, indicating they knew each other. "Yes, Gwaggo, it's me! So you are the one looking after these children? Honestly, I have never seen them before."
Gwaggo smiled sadly. "You don't visit us, that's why. They have been with me for a long time; I take care of them."
Hajiya nodded. "I see. But Gwaggo, are they your granddaughters?"
Gwaggo shook her head. "No. It was Allah who brought us together. It is a very long story, but right now, my mind is too troubled to sit and tell it. Let's wait until I find some peace of mind." She handed the medicines to Jahad. "Take these, they are yours. It was with great difficulty that I raised the money to buy them." Jahad thanked her.
They all walked over to where Sehrish lay crying over Husanna. With deep pity, Hajiya said, "May Allah grant her healing. Truly, a person never realizes the harsh realities of this world until they visit a hospital; that's where you see different kinds of suffering. I feel so much pity for this girl. May Allah bring them relief, and to all the sick out there."
They all murmured, "Amin." Sehrish kept her head down, consumed by her internal agony.
Hajiya turned back to Gwaggo and said, "If it's not a problem..."
2. Story Summary
The excerpt follows Sehrish, a desperate 17-year-old girl who continuously visits the house of Hajiya, an agent who recruits village girls for domestic work. Despite facing extreme verbal abuse and rejection from Hajiya's guard, Sehrish's persistent tears break his hard exterior, and he learns that she is trying to secure a housemaid job to fund an 800,000 Naira life-saving surgery for her hospital-bound sisters.
Moved by her plight, the guard feeds her and introduces her to Hajiya when she returns with a fresh batch of unrefined village recruits. Although Hajiya initially claims she has no job openings left, Sehrish’s raw desperation convinces Hajiya to investigate further. The next morning, Hajiya drives Sehrish to the hospital, only to be struck with utter shock: Sehrish belongs to a set of strikingly beautiful, identical triplets (Sehrish, Jahad, and Husanna). Jahad is injured, Husanna is in the ICU on oxygen support, and an old woman named Gwaggo is struggling to take care of them. The story highlights a deeper mystery involving a sinister oppressor who caused the triplets' ruinous state.
3. Character & Setting Descriptions
Characters
- Sehrish (Rishi): The 17-year-old protagonist. She is highly resilient, beautifully mannered, and possesses an innate poise that separates her from the coarse village girls. She has long cornrows reaching her waist and smooth, dark-brown hair. She bears the burden of saving her sisters.
- Jahad: One of the identical triplets. She is currently managing a head injury and trying her best to stay strong alongside Gwaggo at the hospital.
- Husanna: The third triplet, currently hovering between life and death in the ICU, requiring an expensive surgery.
- Hajiya (Hajjaju Makkatu): A wealthy woman who runs a domestic help agency, scouting village girls, grooming them, and placing them in households for a commission. She is heavily bleached, wears luxury blue lace and diamonds, but possesses an underlying sense of empathy when confronted with genuine tragedy.
- The Guard (Maigadi / Aku): A Tuareg (Buzu) guard who acts harsh and loud but reveals a deeply protective, kind, and religious heart once he realizes Sehrish's pain. He mistakenly uses masculine pronouns for Sehrish throughout their interactions.
- Gwaggo (Goggo): A kind-hearted elderly woman who has taken the triplets under her wing out of charity. She is financially stressed but fiercely dedicated to them.
The Village Girls: Five unrefined, comical, and undisciplined girls scouted by Hajiya. They represent raw comic relief and display poor hygiene, excessive makeup, and greed.
Settings
- Hajiya's Residence: A luxurious house featuring automated cooling (A.C.), expensive carpets, and plush, velvet-like sofas. It serves as a stark contrast to the poverty surrounding the recruits.
- The Guard's Post: A simple, grounding setting outside the gate with a bench, prayer mats, and a small metal kettle used to brew local sweet tea.
The Hospital (ICU): A grim, melancholic, and emotionally heavy setting that brings the core conflict into focus, filled with oxygen lines, bandages, and severe financial desperation.
4. Literary Analytics
Key Themes
- The Illusion of Gender and Appearance: The guard repeatedly refers to Sehrish using male pronouns (ka, maka, kana), despite noticing her female clothing. This subtle literary device highlights how her harsh reality has stripped away the luxury of "fragile femininity"—she is forced to fight like a man for her family's survival.
- Socioeconomic Disparity & Bleaching Culture: The author uses vivid descriptions to contrast Hajiya's artificial luxury (skin bleaching, diamond rings, expensive blue stones) with the raw, neglected reality of the village girls and the absolute poverty of the triplets.
The Mystery of Tragic Fate: The narrative introduces a hidden plotline involving an unnamed "oppressor" (azzalumi macuci) who targeted the triplets. The fact that they are identical triplets adds a mythic, highly dramatic element to their shared suffering.
Narrative Pacing and Stylistic Evaluation
The author, Hafsat Bature, employs a classic Hausa prose style popular in contemporary Northern Nigerian digital literature (Littattafan Na Maras/Online Novels). The tone shifts beautifully from aggressive comedy (the guard's colorful insults) to domestic realism (the behavior of the village girls), and finally settles into intense, agonizing melodrama at the hospital bed. The use of internal monologues allows the reader to track Sehrish's profound loneliness amid crowded environments.
