Description
Part 3-B: The Confrontation and Broken Bonds
He didn't stop until he reached the glass entrance leading straight into the living room of his house, ensuring Hajiya wouldn't have to endure a long, exhausting walk. He got out, opened the door for her, retrieved her handbag, and closed the car door.
The house boy hurried over to welcome them. Upon his master's instruction to park the car properly, he took the car keys, and they made their way inside.
Hajiya kept offering the Islamic greeting of peace (sallama), but no one heard her over the booming volume of disco music blasting straight through the room—the kind of noise that induces a splitting headache. Yet, to the one listening to it, nothing could be sweeter or more entertaining.
She was exerting all her energy, dancing wildly all by herself like someone newly possessed by a manic spirit (aljana sumbuka), completely oblivious to her surroundings. She was dressed in a white lace top and skirt that looked tightly restrictive, as if she had been stuffed inside them.
Her hair was styled in thin braids, with horsehair extensions contributing to 80% of its length—this was none other than Yagana, Salima's younger sister. Meanwhile, the mistress of the house, Salima, lay stretched out across a three-seater sofa, her eyes closed, tightly clutching a throw pillow. Whether she was asleep or wide awake, only God knew.
The duo walked right into the living room without either woman noticing, until Saifuddeen stepped forward and decisively flipped the master switch of the sound system, plunging the entire room into absolute silence.
As the saying goes, no matter how beautiful the music, silence is better. Yagana spun around abruptly, her eyes locking onto Hajiya. Panicking, she rushed forward to take Hajiya's bag from Saifuddeen's hand, pouring out a frantic stream of welcomes.
He refused to let go, holding the bag firmly and pulling it behind his back. With a deeply stern expression, he snapped:
"Yagana, how many times must I tell you to stop blasting music in this house? If it isn't an act of goodness (ALHERI), keep it at a volume meant only for your own ears. Not everyone enjoys this noise." She replied:
"Please forgive me, brother, I won't do it again. It was actually Aunty who asked me to turn it on. Her head was splitting with a headache, and she thought the music would bring her some relief."
Hajiya simply smiled, remaining silent as she found a chair directly facing Salima and sat down. Saifuddeen was consumed by irritation and at a complete loss for what to do; he felt profoundly embarrassed in front of Hajiya. He knew there was nothing Hajiya despised more in this life than disco music, as she always lectured that it was precisely through such noise that devils found a comfortable foothold to occupy a home, unlike a household filled with the recitation of the Holy Qur'an.
Consequently, he quickly resorted to what the Hausa call veiling one's shame with madness—launching into a furious tirade without rhyme or reason, making no distinction between who he was scolding (was it the wife or the sister-in-law?).
"Oh, so loud noise is now the cure for a headache? You will never see a CD in this house again, let alone blast the devil’s music for me! Since you are both so thoroughly accustomed to the work of the devil and acts of terrorism, you feel compelled to turn everyone’s home into a den of devils..."
As he spoke, he began ripping out the CDs and tearing away the audio cables. He gathered the entire sound system in his arms and marched outside with it, looking as though he had purchased it with his own money rather than their father buying it for them.
The display amused Hajiya, though she suppressed her laughter. She knew it was entirely a display of defensive embarrassment; otherwise, why hadn't he confiscated the CDs when they were playing it before, choosing only today because she had arrived?
She raised her voice and called out, "Hey, Saifuddeen, Saifuddeen! Bring that radio back, I say. Is it yours? Did you buy it for them?"
He brought it back, slamming it down while huffing and puffing with sheer frustration, looking as though he wanted to swallow them alive out of sheer aggravation.
Salima struggled to a sitting position and began wiping away tears. Her abdomen had visibly enlarged, confirming she was about four months into her pregnancy. She rose from the sofa, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, and came over to kneel directly before Hajiya. Resting her head gently on Hajiya’s lap, she began to weep softly, sobbing:
"Do you see this with your own eyes, Hajiya? This is exactly the kind of humiliation he subjects me to every single day since that tragic accident occurred. Nothing ever passes or gets forgiven with him. I have apologized to the point of wearing out my tongue, yet he refuses to relent..."
With a booming shout, Saifuddeen cut her off:
"Am I the one you wronged to be offering me apologies? The family that sent her to your home to assist you—only for you to permanently cripple her—why haven't you thought to go and beg them for forgiveness? Or do you claim you don't know where they live?
It is only now, when she has dragged her ailing feet all the way here just to check on your health—your fake, hypocritical illness—that you possess the sheer audacity to play the victim and lodge a complaint against me?!"
Hajiya fixed her gaze intensely upon him, delivering that silent, heavy look of maternal judgment that he absolutely dreaded. Instantly, his fiery energy deflated. He went entirely silent and slunk toward the staircase to ascend to the upper floor, his body visibly trembling with suppressed emotion.
In a calm, measured voice, Hajiya commanded, "Come back down and sit. I am going to speak with all of you." She then directed her gaze toward Yagana, who was standing rigid, watching them with wide, inquisitive eyes, her ears strained to catch every syllable. The girl’s utter lack of manners was glaring. Hajiya said:
"You, leave us." Yagana scrambled upstairs immediately, terrified by the murderous glare Saifuddeen threw her way.
Salima, continuing her unrestrained weeping, pleaded, "I swear by Allah, Hajiya, the sheer terror of Saifuddeen’s relentless rage caused me to start bleeding. It was only with great difficulty that the doctor managed to save my baby.
He even left the house for days on end without telling me where he was going. The last time I saw him smile was the very day I had that altercation with Rukayyah..."
Saifuddeen’s disgust reached a boiling point, looking as though he might physically vomit from heartbreak. He desperately wanted to speak, but Hajiya raised a hand, denying him the opportunity. With absolute tranquility, Hajiya Umaimah asked:
"I have heard your explanation, Salima. But tell me, as a Muslim woman, what could Rukayyah possibly have done to you to warrant you pushing her off the upper floor balcony?"
Salima lowered her head, weeping bitterly without offering a logical answer. Realizing she had no escape, she began to desperately beg Hajiya for forgiveness, crying:
"I swear by Allah, Hajiya, it was nothing but jealousy (kishi)! My heart was seized by the evil whispers of the devil!"
Hajiya was a woman who deeply respected anyone quick to admit their faults and speak the absolute truth, even when they knew they were entirely in the wrong.
Consequently, Salima’s sudden vulnerability struck a deeply empathetic chord within her. She realized that an intense, overwhelming love for her husband had driven the girl to commit the horrific act that now tormented her conscience.
Hajiya spoke gently, "This thing called jealousy, Salima, is not something you blindly surrender to. The human heart is easily misled by the devil. To be sure, jealousy is permissible (halal) in Islam, but it must be practiced within Islamic boundaries, not the toxic jealousy of unbelievers.
The jealousy you displayed belongs to those who do not truly believe that Allah is the ultimate ordainer of all things. They mistakenly believe their own raw strength dictates what happens or what is withheld.
Your sheer strength and the ferocity of your jealousy cannot stop your husband from taking a co-wife, unless Allah Himself has not decreed it. Furthermore, it is often the toxic behavior of you modern wives that drives a husband to take a second wife, even when he originally had no intention to do so. This happens because you fail to secure a permanent sanctuary in your husband's heart.
The moment you realize a man loves you deeply, you overstep your boundaries. You begin to exhibit all sorts of ugly, intolerable behaviors, simply because you feel secure in his affection.
If you truly understood the depth of the love your husband had for you, and the sacred position you held in his heart before you ruined your own dance with reckless leaps, you would have shown him compassion. You would have joined him in prayer, asking Allah to preserve his love or make him an exemplary man of the world.
The way you view us—the parents of Saifuddeen—is entirely wrong, Salima. All children are equal in our eyes. For what earthly reason would we secretly plot to send Rukayyah to your home just so Saifuddeen could marry her?
If they truly loved each other, wouldn't we have simply solemnized their marriage back at our family home and brought her in openly as your co-wife? Would we really need to resort to shady, underhanded tactics as if we weren't the very ones who gave birth to you?
What you fail to understand is that we are not like that. We are fundamentally different from the typical parents-in-law you see or hear about in stories, who constantly meddle maliciously in their children's lives. We only step in to reprimand when we see someone deviating from the straight path.
Guard your life against baseless suspicion (zargi), for it is a malignant disease. Long before Saifuddeen ever laid eyes on you, he knew Rukayyah—from the very day she was born.
If he had desired her in the way your paranoid mind suspected, you wouldn't have even set foot in this house as his bride. I am not merely taking his side here; I am offering you sacred counsel, just as I would offer it to Rukayyah.
I am showing you the proper path of life and how to attain true success within it. If you do not permanently alter your selfish nature, your toxic suspicions, and your violent jealousy, you will never taste success in your marital life—not just with Saifuddeen, but with any man you marry, no matter how desperately he loves you, I swear by Allah.
Look at where your suspicion and jealousy have led us. They have triggered a catastrophic chain of events that none of us could have ever anticipated.
Intend nothing but goodness (ALHERI) for everyone, and you too will witness goodness in your life. Do you even comprehend the horrific fate your violent push has brought upon Rukayyah?"
Hajiya fell silent, staring at her, her voice dropping to a somber, chilling register. Salima kept her head bowed low, unable to offer a response or even lift her eyes.
Saifuddeen shook his head in absolute disgust and stood up to storm out, but Hajiya commanded, "Return to your seat."
Highly against his will, he slumped back into his chair, turning his face entirely away. He bitterly resented this peaceful mediation Hajiya was attempting to broker. In his estimation, Salima had not been punished nearly enough; her time of reckoning was far from over. It wasn't that he had completely stopped loving his wife, but rather that her actions had completely repulsed him. He could no longer envision a life with her. In his eyes, no other woman on earth possessed real value anymore, except RAK (Rukayyah)!
Without seeking Saifuddeen's input, Hajiya turned her full attention back to Salima. Without waiting for the girl to speak, she delivered the devastating truth:
"Rukayyah has suffered a total, absolute erasure of her past memory. I haven't the slightest clue what you call it in English."
Salima snapped her head up instantly, her bloodshot eyes wide with a desperate plea for clarification. Hajiya Umaimah nodded grimly and continued, "Yes. It means she will never again remember anything that occurred in her past life.
There is no definitive timeline within which doctors can guarantee her memory will return. As we speak, she has to be taught absolutely everything from scratch. She has zero awareness of her own identity—she is exactly like a newborn infant..."
In a state of acute terror, her voice trembling violently, Salima stammered, "I understand... you mean a total loss of memory?"
Hajiya nodded confirmation. Salima's entire body went cold and limp; the very strength in her veins evaporated. Her saliva dried up completely, rendering her physically incapable of movement.
A suffocating weight of guilt and profound regret tightly bound her. She could not bring herself to look at her mother-in-law for even a fraction of a second. Hajiya pressed on:
"And this tragedy has twisted reality into the exact shape of the baseless suspicions you harbored. Consider this: originally, Rukayyah was engaged to be married to someone else. In fact, her very presence here in Lagos was to sort out the logistics of her upcoming wedding.
Because of the severe brain trauma she suffered entirely by your hand, her fiancé formally called off the wedding, right after her father had gathered the entire community to solemnize the marriage.
I don't fully comprehend the divine orchestration of it all, but the next thing I knew, her marriage was instead contracted to Saifud—"
In absolute horror, Salima bolted upright, her large eyes protruding wildly. She cut Hajiya off with a cracked, breathless voice:
"Which Saifuddeen?!"
Saifuddeen instantly stepped in to shield his mother, raising his hand and pointing directly at his own chest:
"Me. Saifuddeen..."
Before the words could fully leave his mouth, Salima let out a blood-curdling, terrifying shriek. The scream was so violent it brought Yagana racing back down the stairs to see what collective assault was being meted out against her sister.
Before Yagana could even reach the bottom step, Salima lunged forward, clawing violently at Saifuddeen's collar with both hands. Wailing hysterically, she screamed:
"I swear by Allah, you will never subject me to this ultimate humiliation! I know this is nothing but a grand, hypocritical conspiracy you all sat down and manufactured together! I swear by Allah, I will never accept this! You must choose right now—it is either her or me!..."
Both Saifuddeen and Hajiya sat with their mouths agape, completely stunned by her explosive reaction. Yet, they remained perfectly still. Salima, entirely unhinged, continued to spew every toxic thought that rushed to her mind, refusing to break her violent grip on his shirt, her face drenched in a messy mix of tears and mucus.
A barrage of dark impulses raced through Saifuddeen’s mind. Should he beat her? Should he slap her across the face? Should he kick her across the room, or break her limbs? Then, a cooler, rational voice whispered in his heart: Neither violence nor slaps can cure a madwoman.
In a deceptively calm, steady voice, he said, "Let go of me first, so I can explain exactly how we manufactured this conspiracy."
She released her grip and took a step back, planting her hands firmly on her hips in a classic fighter’s stance. Saifuddeen slowly began to advance on her, his normally clear white eyes shifting into a lethal, dark register resembling a black cobra ready to strike.
Salima continued to retreat as he relentlessly closed the distance. The sheer, suffocating tension radiating from him terrified her to her core. She kept backing away until her spine slammed against the iron railing of the staircase, preventing her from tripping and falling. Her entire body was shaking uncontrollably.
He effectively boxed her in—blocking her front, her back, her left, and her right. He did this without raising a hand, utilizing nothing but his imposing physical stature and that commanding aura (kwarjini) that Allah bestows upon only a rare few men. He spoke:
"If the intense love I had for you is destined to be the absolute end of me... then I, Saifuddeen, divorce you right now. That is one divorce... two divorces..." Oh, dear God!
Disregarding the pain in her ailing feet, Hajiya lunged forward and managed to reach him. She thrust the fingers of her right hand directly over his mouth, tears spilling from her eyes as she cried out:
"What a profound tragedy that I ever stepped into this house to mend things! What an absolute curse that I set foot in your home to salvage your marriage!! In my very presence, Saifuddeen?!"
He gently but firmly pried her hand away from his lips. With absolute iron finality, he swore: "I swear by Allah—I swear by Allah, Hajiya, the woman has not been born who can look me in the eye and call my biological mother a worthless hypocrite while I continue to stay married to her! The woman has not been born who will trample upon the honor of my parents while I continue to love her! In the past, I committed that grave mistake, but today, I thank Allah for rescuing me from absolute destruction... therefore, I am finishing it, Salima... I divorce you three times (Saki uku)!"
Hajiya burst into deep, agonizing tears, wailing, "Recant your words! Amend your utterance this instant, Saifuddeen, unless you want me to permanently withdraw my maternal blessing from you!..."
Salima aggressively wiped the tears from her eyes, pointed a trembling finger directly at Hajiya, and spat: "You worthless hypocrite! You empty, deceitful woman! What else is left for you to plot now that your malicious digging has finally struck water?
I have heard my divorce, and I am leaving. You can go ahead and bring whatever golden bride you desire for Saifuddeen. But before I go, let me promise you this: I know the marriage between Saifuddeen and Rukayyah has been solemnized, but I swear you will never live to see them successfully live together under one roof!
Look at my bedroom upstairs—I am abandoning it and leaving it entirely to you. You can come and live in it with him in my place, but it will never be Rukayyah.
If Rukayyah ever successfully settles into this house with him, it will only be when I am no longer drawing breath on this earth!..."
She turned on her heel and sprinted up the stairs to escape the lethal wrath Saifuddeen intended to inflict upon her. Hajiya physically pinned him back, holding him with all her might. He roared after her:
"If this house belonged to your biological father, only then could you stop Rukayyah from entering it! You absolute madwoman! You animal! Your parents suffered an utter loss the day they gave birth to you. Your marriage brought absolutely nothing into my life except bitter regret!
And just as you have forced my mother’s tears to flow today on my account, I swear your own children will weep tears of pure blood! As for Rukayyah, keep your eyes wide open, because you will live to see her grandchildren—not just her children—running through this very house, by the special grace of Allah! Whether she recovers her mind or remains an infant forever!..."
Ultimately, the dam broke, and heavy tears slipped down Saifuddeen's face—born of an intense, suffocating sorrow that he felt would never leave his heart, triggered by the horrific insults Salima had hurled at his family.
Part 3-A: The Heavy Silence and Domestic Realignment
A mountain of crises had converged, completely overwhelming Saifuddeen. At home, he found absolutely no peace due to the severe, icy anger Hajiya maintained toward him over his rash decision to issue a triple divorce to Salima. Her parting words had deeply shaken his core:
"A man who completely lacks the maturity to value and preserve his bond with a single woman does not deserve to be handed a second one."
She strictly confined her interactions with him to coldly returning his Islamic greetings, refusing to utter a single syllable to him beyond that.
In his estimation, Hajiya was being profoundly unfair to him. Everything had unfolded right before her own eyes. The grotesque insults Salima had hurled at her honor were something he could never tolerate; even if Salima were carved out of pure diamonds, he could never look her in the eye again, let alone continue a marital life with her.
When Alhaji called from abroad to report that they had landed safely in India, Hajiya informed him of the triple divorce Saifuddeen had executed in her presence, though she consciously withheld the vicious insults Salima had directed at her. Alhaji, in turn, unleashed a torrent of furious reprimands over the phone. The scolding entered through one ear and exited through the other, but coming from Alhaji, it thoroughly rattled Saifuddeen.
Alhaji ordered him to stay put, explicitly stating that he did not want to see his feet anywhere near India. Once the medical treatment was concluded, they would return, and Saifuddeen was to strictly focus on managing the corporate office. Yet, even at the office, he found no solace; his mind was entirely consumed by a relentless anxiety over Rukayyah’s true condition.
He harbored a deep, unspoken distrust toward this abrupt trip to Dr. Javed’s family hospital. He knew down to his bones that Javed was not a neurosurgeon or a psychiatrist; he suspected Javed was simply exploiting Alhaji’s desperation for financial gain. Furthermore, the family had completely sidelined him, never bothering to seek his perspective or consent before whisking his new bride away.
Whenever these dark thoughts overwhelmed him, he would let out sharp, bitter clicks of his tongue (tsuka), finding distraction only in the massive mountain of corporate duties piling up before him.
He found comfort only in the presence of Mama Rabi. Whenever he closed from the office, he would detour to her house, where she would soothe his loneliness by sharing updates and stories about Rukayyah's past mannerisms.
She would fill his stomach with her legendary, delicious cooking—the very kitchen where Rukayyah had taken intensive culinary lessons until her own cooking surpassed Rabi's.
Hajiya, on her part, completely ignored his existence, treating him like a stranger. He only returned to his own house when it was strictly time to sleep.
Meanwhile, Munaya had returned home to Jalingo since their school holiday had concluded and her primary patient (Rukayyah) was no longer in the country. However, she explicitly told Hajiya that the moment she and Sister Rukayyah returned, they must send a driver to fetch her back immediately, even if it meant abandoning her school break. Hajiya had responded:
"By God's grace, Munaya."
That very week, Nafisa arrived from Jos to spend a week at the family home along with her toddler son, Abdulsamad, who was just beginning to take his first awkward steps. Saifuddeen was overjoyed by his sister's arrival. Every evening after office hours, the siblings would sit together, deeply discussing the family crisis and brainstorming realistic ways to resolve it.
Nafisa gave him her solemn word that she would personally intervene and convince Hajiya to abandon her fierce resentment over the divorce—a divorce for which Saifuddeen steadfastly maintained he "had absolutely no regret for, until the end of time."
Consequently, later that night after Saifuddeen had departed, Nafisa sat by Hajiya's bedside, gently massaging Mentholatum ointment into her aching legs before sleep. Smiling warmly, pretending to be entirely oblivious to the tension, she coaxed:
"You know, Hajiya, I’ve been meaning to ask you: what exactly did my big brother do to warrant this absolute cold shoulder you’ve been giving him ever since I arrived?"
Hajiya flashed her a sharp, disciplinary glare and retorted, "Oh, so I am expected to just sit here and flash my teeth at him joyfully without rhyme or reason?"
Nafisa laughed softly and countered, "That’s not what I mean at all. You and I both know you never used to treat him this way. The two of you used to sit, chat, and laugh so beautifully, completely defying the typical strained dynamic between a mother and her firstborn son.
But now, whenever we are having a conversation, you just sit there silently, refusing to contribute a single word, or you abruptly stand up and leave the room. Come on, Hajiya! Think of everything Brother Saifuddeen is carrying in his heart right now.
You know better than anyone that the dissolution of a marriage—even one devoid of love—carries a deep, stinging pain. How much more a marriage built on an intense love like the one between Saifuddeen and Salima? He executed that divorce strictly to defend your maternal dignity, not because his love for his wife had died. Overlay that with his intense agony over Rukayyah’s condition—whom you have strictly forbidden him from visiting—and top it off with the terror of your maternal wrath, which he views as more lethal than a scorpion's venom. How do you expect him to survive?"
Hajiya’s rigid stance melted completely; she fell into a deep, pensive silence for several moments. Eventually, she sighed and spoke:
"Nafisa, I do not dismiss a single word you’ve said. But I ask you, in the eyes of Allah, is Saifuddeen a mere toddler to rashly pronounce a definitive triple divorce (saki uku) right before my very eyes, regardless of whatever sin the girl committed against him?
In the name of Almighty God, what do you think that girl’s parents will think of me when they discover that such a catastrophic event occurred right in front of me, without me intervening? Won't they view me as a worthless, wicked old woman?"
Nafisa responded gently:
"Treating everyone's child as your own is a beautiful virtue, Hajiya, because if a husband were to inflict such treatment on me, you and Alhaji would be utterly devastated. But tell me, what stopped Salima's own parents from instilling the foundational discipline of marriage within her? I swear by Allah, if my Abdul’s father were to subject you to the insults Salima hurled, or if he were the last man standing on this earth, I would permanently terminate my marriage with him.
Please find it in your heart to forgive him, Hajiya. Bestow your maternal blessing upon Brother Saifuddeen.
Simply offer prayers on his behalf, asking Allah to ensure that this painful separation ultimately yields nothing but goodness (ALHERI) for his destiny."
Hajiya slowly shook her head, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "Very well, let it be a thing of the past. May Allah bestow His ultimate blessings upon all of you, and may He grant Rukayyah a perfect, swift recovery."
At those words, fresh tears welled up in her eyes. Nafisa smiled and said, "Amen. We are deeply grateful, Hajiya. May Allah preserve you for us."
With that tender exchange, Nafisa successfully brokered peace, permanently reconciling Saifuddeen with his mother.
Part 3-C: The Illusory Miracle in Delhi
Inside an elite, high-end private psychiatric and neurosurgical hospital located in the heart of Delhi, India, Rukayyah lay resting on a narrow hospital bed. Her head was completely wrapped in an intricate network of advanced medical monitoring equipment, having just been wheeled out of the operating theater following a complex brain surgery.
Dr. Javed and his medical colleagues confidently assured the anxious family that it would not be long before Rukayyah made a full recovery, even if she didn't show immediate signs of awareness upon opening her eyes.
However, when Rukayyah finally regained consciousness, Alhaji and the family saw absolutely no change in her condition. One day passed, then two, then three, stretching into a full week. Seeing zero progress, Alhaji's confidence shattered, and he began making immediate arrangements to fly back to Nigeria.
The moment they landed back in Lagos, Saifuddeen felt entirely vindicated. He wasn't the least bit surprised by the failure; his intuition had consistently warned him that Dr. Javed was merely exploiting Alhaji’s immense wealth. After all, what business did a general physician have spearheading a highly specialized neurological and psychiatric case?
Consequently, the entire family returned in a state of profound, icy despair—with the sole exception of Saifuddeen. He saw absolutely no rational reason to torment one's soul over an outcome that Allah had already explicitly ordained.
If this was the exact state in which Allah had decreed Rukayyah would live out the remainder of her days on earth, then no human strategy or medical cleverness could alter it. And he loved her exactly as she was (he loved his property as such).
On the night of their return, duties kept him away from the mansion until the late night hours. By the time he arrived, Rukayyah had long since retired to sleep. Alhaji descended from the upper floor, joining Saifuddeen and Hajiya in the living room. He sank heavily into a sofa, exchanged brief greetings with his son, and returned to his thoughts. Alhaji let out a sharp, bitter hiss of frustration and burst out:
"Tell me, Saifuddeen, did that crook Javed actually tell us a single shred of truth? I completely fail to comprehend what that multi-million-naira medication he injected into Rukayyah was supposed to accomplish. The hospital itself was an insignificant, tiny private clinic, not even a reputable government institution..." He hissed again, adding, "They wheeled her into the theater while she was fast asleep, and they brought her back out still completely knocked out cold!..."
Saifuddeen desperately suppressed a smile, biting his tongue to avoid speaking out of turn. Alhaji paced around his own thoughts, letting out a loud tsuki:
"...The man is dealing with me—Alhaji! He actually had the nerve to tell me that he will pack his thin legs, travel all the way from India, and meet me right here in my own house just to deliver a written record of her treatment line. He clearly takes me for a complete fool simply because I didn't study medicine!
I explicitly stated I wanted to take her to the United Kingdom, but he adamantly insisted on his home country of India. And I, acting like someone completely brainwashed by witchcraft, blindly followed him while he milked my wealth like cow intestines!"
Hajiya and Saifuddeen could no longer contain themselves; a spontaneous burst of laughter escaped them. Hajiya joked, "It’s highly likely he did perform some Indian witchcraft on you! Don't you know an Indian will never undertake a business venture without first casting a spell on his client?"
Saifuddeen hadn't intended to join the critique, but because the entire trip had been executed behind his back and without his consent, the frustration had simmered deep within him. Suppressing his laughter, he added dryly:
"In the future, when milestone family matters like this are being orchestrated, please endeavor to consult me, Alhaji."
Alhaji, completely deflated by the biting irony and unable to launch into a defensive scolding against Saifuddeen, aggressively adjusted his large grand boubou (babban riga) and stormed out of the living room, loudly muttering to himself that Javed better bring his feet to his house as promised.
Left alone, Saifuddeen rose from his chair...
Story Summary
This highly dramatic chapter shifts between Lagos, Nigeria and Delhi, India, chronicling the explosive collapse of Saifuddeen’s first marriage and the continuing crisis of Rukayyah’s health.
The narrative opens with Saifuddeen and Hajiya Umaimah arriving at Saifuddeen's residence, where they find his sister-in-law Yagana dancing wildly to loud disco music while his pregnant wife, Salima, lies unbothered. Saifuddeen aggressively cuts the power to the music, triggering a fierce domestic confrontation. Salima attempts to play the victim before Hajiya, but Saifuddeen exposes her hypocrisy, revealing that she has never apologized to Rukayyah’s family for violently pushing her off the balcony.
In a beautifully written sequence of maternal counsel, Hajiya delivers a powerful speech to Salima on the true nature of Islamic jealousy (kishi), warning her that toxic suspicion destroys marriages. However, when Hajiya reveals that Rukayyah has suffered permanent memory erasure and that her arranged marriage was canceled and subsequently solemnized with Saifuddeen instead, Salima erupts into a hysterical frenzy. She physically assaults Saifuddeen and insults Hajiya, calling her a hypocrite. Enraged by the desecration of his mother's honor, Saifuddeen delivers an absolute, irreversible triple divorce (saki uku), permanently severing their marriage despite Hajiya's desperate attempts to intervene. Salima flees upstairs, vowing that Rukayyah will never live in the house while she breathes.
The story transitions into a period of deep domestic alienation. Hajiya maintains a cold, punishing silence toward Saifuddeen over the rash triple divorce, a burden lifted only when his sister Nafisa arrives and beautifully mediates a reconciliation between mother and son. Meanwhile, Alhaji ignores Saifuddeen’s medical warnings and flies Rukayyah to a private clinic in India under the guidance of Dr. Javed. The expensive brain surgery proves to be an absolute failure; Rukayyah returns to Lagos completely unchanged, functioning at a childlike level. The chapter closes with a humorous yet grounded moment where a broke and frustrated Alhaji realizes he was financially exploited by the Indian doctor, while Saifuddeen quietly accepts Rukayyah's condition, content to love her exactly as she is.
Character Descriptions & Profiles
1. Saifuddeen
- Attributes: An imposing, highly principled young man possessing an exceptional commanding aura (kwarjini) that can physically intimidate an antagonist without violence. He values parental honor above all else.
Role in Excerpt: The decisive executioner of justice in his own home. While he tolerates personal humiliation from Salima, her insults toward his mother trigger an absolute breaking point, leading him to execute a permanent triple divorce. He shows a profound, unconditional love for Rukayyah (RAK), accepting her amnesiac state without requiring a medical miracle.
2. Salima
- Attributes: Saifuddeen's pregnant first wife. She is highly volatile, intensely insecure, and consumed by a toxic, possessive iteration of jealousy that defies Islamic principles.
Role in Excerpt: The tragic antagonist. She shifts rapidly from feigning illness and playing the victim to physical aggression and hysterical screaming. Her possessive vow to prevent Rukayyah from occupying her space sets up a dark, looming future conflict.
3. Hajiya Umaimah
- Attributes: The wise, dignified family matriarch. She is an exemplar of Islamic moral philosophy and traditional maternal authority.
Role in Excerpt: She serves as the moral compass of the narrative. Her speech on marital psychology and the limits of kishi serves as a profound lecture on interpersonal relationships. Despite being deeply insulted by Salima, she displays immense maturity, weeping over the permanent destruction of her son's first marriage.
4. Nafisa
- Attributes: Saifuddeen's married sister who visits from Jos; perceptive, empathetic, and highly skilled in domestic diplomacy.
Role in Excerpt: The peacemaker. She uses her emotional intelligence to gently confront Hajiya while performing a filial duty (massaging her feet), successfully lifting the maternal boycott placed on Saifuddeen.
5. Alhaji (Gadanga)
- Attributes: A wealthy, proud, and historically unyielding patriarch who is highly susceptible to fast-talking professionals due to his desperation to fix his family.
Role in Excerpt: He provides the financial backing for the failed medical excursion to India. His evolution from an arrogant, dismissive stance to a humbled, complaining father who realizes he was fleeced by Dr. Javed provides a touch of realistic, grounded humor to the dark theme.
Analytical Overview & Literary Themes
1. The Anatomy of Kishi (Jealousy) in Northern Marital Discourse
The text offers an exceptional cultural and psychological critique of kishi (co-wife jealousy) through the mouth of Hajiya Umaimah. The narrative distinguishes between two forms of jealousy:
- Permissible Islamic Jealousy: A natural emotional boundary that respects the divine decree of destiny (Kaddara) and seeks to maintain a husband's love through excellence of character and spiritual contentment.
Toxic Subversive Jealousy: A destructive, ego-driven force that attempts to physically or socially eliminate a rival, operating under the arrogant assumption that human strength can override what Allah has written in ink.
2. Kwarjini and the Dynamics of Masculine Authority
The author uses the specific cultural concept of kwarjini—an innate, divinely endowed majesty, charisma, and imposing physical presence—to describe Saifuddeen’s confrontation with Salima. When he traps her against the staircase railing, the text explicitly notes that he did not use physical violence, shouting, or gestures; he dominated the space entirely through his Girma (stature/dignity) and Kwarjini. This presents an idealized Northern model of masculine control: powerful, absolute, yet physically restrained.
3. Structural Shifts and Regional Dialectics
The movement of the narrative across distinct geographical settings serves a clear symbolic purpose:
- Lagos (The Domestic Battleground): Characterized by modern anxieties, loud disco music, tight lace clothing, and explosive emotional confrontation.
- Delhi, India (The Illusory Miracle): Represents the false promise of foreign technology and expensive private medical commercialism, which fails to heal a spiritual and psychological affliction.
- Jalingo (The Traditional Sheet Anchor): Constantly referenced as the ancestral home of moral values, modesty, and final resting places, contrasting with the chaotic modern lifestyle of Lagos.