FreeFreeDescription
paragraph breaks and dialogue indicators to preserve the tension, continuous narration, and intense emotional expressions of the original Hausa draft.
She completely ignored him. He repeated what he said, but she ignored him yet again, her eyes fixed out the window, looking deeply frustrated and sour-faced. Incensed, he angrily got out of the car, yanked the door open, and pulled her toward him with all his might. She fell right against his chest. Without a shred of shame, he wrapped his arms completely around her, gripping her tight simply because he had lost all self-control. Galvanized by the sudden intrusion, she fiercely pushed him away, pointing a sharp finger right at his face, and snapped:
"This will be the biggest gamble you will ever make in your life—thinking you can just put your hands on my body! By WALLAHI, I will prove to you that I am still the exact same Dije you have always known, not anyone else. In fact, I will clearly show you the difference between Khadijah and Dije! If you doubt me, go ahead and try touching any part of my body again and see what happens. Or did someone tell you that I am loose, like that wretched, miserable girlfriend you are planning to marry?"
She let out a massive, scornful hiss, flung the front passenger door open, and climbed in, sitting there with an incredibly haughty, sprawling posture. Instead of being upset by her stinging words, a deeply sinister laugh tore out of him. Without uttering a single word in response, he hopped into the driver's seat, slammed the car into gear, and sped off with a fierce jerk, lightly rubbing his beard with a soft smirk playing on his lips. Since Dije had very little knowledge of the layout of the city, she couldn't map out where he was taking her. They drove on until they pulled up in front of a massive, breathtaking mansion. Just glancing at the towering front gate was enough to tell you that serious millions had been poured into constructing the estate. The security guard quickly flung the gate wide open, calling out:
"Welcome back, ranka ya daɗe (may your life be prolonged)!"
Safwan responded with an air of immense superiority, a stark contrast to the smirking man from moments before. With a sudden jolt of panic striking her chest, Dije quickly turned her gaze toward him, then stared at the sprawling house, asking anxiously:
"The pre-wedding event (Kamu) isn't being held here at all. What on earth brought us here??"
He completely ignored her, stepped out of the vehicle, and collected the keys from the security guard. Leaning his head back into the car right in front of her, he said coldly:
"Are you going to step out on your own, or do I have to come in there and drag you out?"
Dije masked the bubbling terror inside her and retorted:
"If you ever expect to see me step out of this car, it will only be when you take me to the exact place our Hajiya instructed you to take me."
He replied, "Okay then, just wait for me. Give me two minutes."
She twisted her mouth in a deep pout, her eyes tracking him as he unlocked a side door located right near the entrance of the estate. He went inside for about two to three minutes before emerging again. The moment she saw him approaching, she sharply turned her face away, looking incredibly cross. He walked right up, pulled the car door open, and grabbed her hand. She forcefully yanked it back, but he gripped her wrist even tighter, pulling with immense force. She held onto the seat for dear life, screaming:
"Didn't I explicitly tell you never to touch me again? Are you going to let go of me right now, or do I need to scream and bring the entire neighborhood down on your head?"
Utterly unbothered by her empty threats, he pulled her completely against his body. She kept pushing against him, but he only held her tighter, dragging her with all his might. She resisted and dug her heels in, but he still managed to haul her straight inside the house. Filled with mounting dread, Dije pleaded:
"Look, just stop so we can understand each other. By WALLAHI, the wedding celebration is not being held here! For the sake of ALLAH, please take me to where the event is taking place."
She finished her sentence bursting into tears, especially as she realized he had dragged her all the way into the innermost depths of a bedroom, tossing her onto a massive mattress spread across the floor. Her terror peaked the moment she heard the sharp click of the key locking the bedroom door from the inside. In a state of absolute panic, she wept:
"For the grandeur of ALLAH, please have mercy! By WALLAHI, I am not a loose girl!"
Safwan turned around, a mocking laugh escaping his lips as he asked:
"Oh? Between you and me, who exactly is the loose one here?"
She quickly cried out:
"It’s me! It’s me, by WALLAHI!"
Suppressing his laughter, he remarked, "Well, we might as well test that fierce energy of yours right now to see if you truly know how to handle yourself, right?"
She frantically shook her head, tears streaming down her face. Watching him begin to unbutton and remove his shirt sent an intense wave of raw terror through her. Her eyes widened in absolute horror as she sobbed out:
"Oh, Dije! What kind of nightmare am I about to witness today?"
Safwan ignored her cries, forcefully pulling her against his chest as he reached down to pull her dress zipper. She quickly grabbed his hand, weeping desperately:
"Please, fear Allah! Do not betray the trust of my parents just because you see they aren't in this city to protect me."
Safwan aggressively yanked his hand free. His eyes were heavily bloodshot as he stared directly into her gaze, eye to eye, and growled:
"If you dare let another word slip from your mouth, I swear you will live to deeply regret ever uttering it."
Dije swiftly clamped her mouth shut, choking back the sob that was about to escape out of sheer terror of him, though she couldn't stop the relentless flow of tears streaming down her face. She felt herself completely helpless as he pulled the zipper of her dress all the way down and slid his hand inside. Her overwhelming panic reached a fever pitch the moment she felt exactly where his hand landed. She lunged backward, wrapping her arms tightly around herself, crying out:
"Please have pity on me, for the sake of ALLAH! By Wallahi, I am not a loose woman, and you yourself can bear witness to that. For Allah's sake, do not ruin me!"
As for Safwan, the incredible softness of her chest beneath his palm completely intoxicated and dazed his senses. In a low, breathless whisper, he muttered:
"I am not going to do anything terrible to you. But by WALLAHI, if you ever dare to argue with me again, you will have to look for someone else to rescue you from my hands."
Dije, still sobbing, pleaded:
"Please save my life! By WALLAHI, if my Baffah ever hears even a whisper of this, he will outright kill me; he won't let me live through the shame. Please, do not do something that will cause my Inna to curse me and send me wandering aimlessly through the world, for Allah's sake!"
Thoroughly irritated and frustrated by her relentless, tearful begging, he aggressively pulled his shirt back on, unlocked the door in a furious huff, and stormed out. She frantically pulled her zipper back up, grabbed her veil, and dashed out behind him, her entire frame trembling uncontrollably. However, seeing him leaning heavily against the car with his head buried in his hands made her steps falter, a sudden wave of complicated emotion washing over her. Even so, she pulled the front passenger door open, slid inside, and quietly wiped her tears away. He stood outside for a long while before finally getting in, starting the ignition, and driving out of the estate. The security guard called out prayers for a safe journey, but Safwan didn't even cast a single glance in his direction.
He drove her straight to the venue of the pre-wedding event (Kamu). The moment he dropped her off right at the entrance gate, he turned the car around and drove off, without looking back at her even once. Dije stared after the retreating vehicle, utterly bewildered by how drastically his demeanor had changed in a single instant. With a heavy, exhausted body, she dragged her feet and walked into the venue.
Throughout the entire duration of the Kamu, she couldn't find a single shred of peace of mind. She could only manage forced, hollow smiles. What Safwan had done to her made her feel completely disgusted with staying in the city altogether. In fact, even the cash she had carefully set aside to spray on the bride remained tucked away; she returned home with every single dime, not spraying a single naira. She had lost absolute interest in everything around her, a visible shift that Surayya quickly picked up on. Deeply concerned, Surayya pulled her aside and asked what had happened to make her so silent. What did Yaya Safwan do to her? Dije merely insisted it was nothing, before eventually breaking down into a fit of tears. Surayya spent a long time comforting her, her instincts telling her that perhaps he had physically beaten her because she had previously mentioned that Hajiya forced him into bringing her along against his will.
Fiddo, on the other hand, was quietly gloating and thrilled, assuming Safwan had finally started beating some sense into Dije. The absolute dejection written all over Dije’s face made it glaringly obvious that he had dealt her a deeply frustrating blow. Even Hajiya noticed Dije's distressed state, pulling her into a quiet corner to give her a firm, maternal advice. She told her to stop crying whenever he did something to her; instead, she should act entirely unfazed, as that was the only way he would realize his mistakes and understand that his behavior was entirely uncalled for. Speaking in a gentle, soothing tone, Hajiya managed to calm Dije down. Though Dije desperately wanted to confess exactly what he had done to her, she was overwhelmed by intense shame at the thought of voicing such an embarrassing, intimate violation for anyone else to hear. However, she made a silent, fierce vow to herself: if he ever dared to attempt such shameless behavior with her again, she would blow the whistle and tell Hajiya absolutely everything.
As for Safwan, it was a miracle he even made it back home given the chaotic, deeply conflicted state of mind he had plunged into. He was riddled with profound regret for giving in to his baser desires. He realized he was on the verge of handing that village girl a massive leverage over him, giving her the power to see his vulnerability for absolutely nothing. He firmly resolved never to pay her any attention again, vowing to expedite his marriage to Zainab before he even finalized his studies. That way, they could comfortably live together abroad until they completed their education and rested, before ever returning home
TO THE COMMENTERS: I am incredibly proud of you all for your relentless commitment to dropping beautiful comments night and day! Mmn Irfaan, a very special greeting goes out to you. My dear sister Mmn Sultan, I highly appreciate your consistent efforts every day. Hauwa Zubair, I hold you in very high regard. Mun Sayyid, well done for your consistency. Sa'ar Bukar, may Allah grant you a long and blessed life. Daughter Rufaida, describing your worth to me is a monumental task. Maryam Omee, my lips will never tire of thanking you, because your comments give me an immense boost of encouragement. Ummu Afrah (Goribatyna), our bond of friendship is entirely unique... My goodness, there are so many of you that it feels like death visiting a crowded marketplace! To all the fans of Dije, if I attempt to list every single one of you, I will undoubtedly exhaust this entire page without finishing the roll call. Therefore, let us meet in the next pages; we will get around to everyone slowly but surely! 😉
PAGE 45
He spent the entire night tossing and turning in agonizing restlessness all by himself in his room, with absolutely no one aware of the inner turmoil he was enduring. He watched the night drag on until dawn finally broke. By morning, his eyes were sunken and exhausted, and the sharp bridge of his nose seemed to look even longer from stress.
Thursday arrived, the designated day for the Mother's Day celebration, which was scheduled to take place in a grand, exquisitely decorated hall. Since Hajiya Mama herself was attending the event, preparations were in full swing across the household. Dije and the other girls were frantically running up and down, caught in a whirlwind of activities. Safwan remained locked in his room, drowning in his own bitterness as he watched Hajiya Mama focus entirely on her event, showing absolutely no concern or worry for his whereabouts, despite the fact that she hadn't seen him from morning until the afternoon prayer (Azahar). Even the breakfast tray that had been brought to his room remained completely untouched, sitting exactly where it had been placed.
Thoroughly frustrated, he stepped out of his room looking incredibly tense and menacing. He spotted Fiddo about to walk past and signaled her over. She rushed over to him immediately, asking anxiously:
"Big bros, what is wrong? You look like you aren't feeling well at all."
He completely brushed her question aside and said, "Tell that girl to prepare some tea and bring it to me. I will be heading out shortly before I return. Also, ensure that the untouched breakfast items in my room are cleared out entirely."
As he finished speaking and turned back, Fiddo quickly interjected:
"Big bros, shouldn't I just prepare it for you myself? By WALLAHI, that girl doesn't know how to do a single thing except cause a mess."
Without turning back around, he replied coldly, "Just go and pass the message to her."
Fiddo twisted her face in deep disgust and muttered angrily, "Honestly, I don't even know what possessed you to bring this primitive bush girl upon yourself, causing you high blood pressure in your youth for absolutely no reason. Out of all the women in this world, you couldn't find anyone else to marry except her? With your high class and status, you completely degraded yourself for her sake. What kind of embarrassing nonsense is this? Mitsiiiw!"
She let out a massive, irritated hiss and marched back into the house, her heart burning with anger. Instead of delivering the message directly to Dije as instructed, she headed straight to Hajiya Mama and said:
"Hajiyarmu, big bros is really not feeling well today. In fact, he didn't even touch a single scrap of the breakfast that was taken to him this morning and asked for it to be cleared out. He just requested some tea to be prepared for him before he goes out."
Hajiya fell silent for a moment before replying, "Go and tell Khadijah to prepare the tea and take it to him. May Allah grant him healing."
Having delivered her instruction, Hajiya went right back to overseeing her event arrangements. Fiddo walked away, deeply annoyed, and headed toward Dije to inform her. Intent on sparking some jealousy and spite, she loudly said to Surayya right in front of Dije:
"Aunty Surry, we are expecting a very important guest from Gombe today! Yaya Safwan’s bride-to-be is coming over."
Surayya glanced at Dije, who was already preparing to leave the room. She sharply pinched Fiddo's ear and warned:
"By WALLAHI, if Hajiya Mama hears you, you will deeply regret your big mouth. Didn't I hear her giving you a severe warning about this just the other day?"
Fiddo scowled and complained, "Well, what is my crime in simply supporting my brother in what he loves? Is it a crime that everyone hates his true choice while celebrating this primitive villager? You all know deep down that she is completely below his class, but you choose to bury the truth and take her side."
Surayya mocked her with a look and countered, "Honestly, Fiddo, your utter lack of sense never ceases to amaze me. Between us and him, who exactly brought Khadijah into this house? Was it Hajiya, or was it me? Open your ears very wide and listen carefully: if Yaya Safwan truly didn't want her, by WALLAHI, he would have never agreed to marry her in the first place. So park your madness to one side and let the husband and wife have some peace. Mark my words, you will be the one telling stories in the future about how deeply obsessed he is with her. As for this other marriage he claims he is going to enter, he is only doing it for the sake of it, not because he doesn't want Khadijah. Besides, unless someone is an enemy of Allah, who could look at Khadijah right now and claim she isn't a perfect match for him?"
Fiddo quickly snapped back, "Well, look at me then! Because by WALLAHI, they don't match even a little bit. You know for a fact that he completely outclasses her."
Surry shot her a piercing glare and said, "Go ahead and keep singing that tune, don't stop."
They carried on bickering back and forth until the exchange almost escalated into a full-blown fight, forcing the other young girls in the room to step in and separate them. Meanwhile, with a racing heart, Dije finished putting everything together on a small serving tray. She headed toward his room, her chest pounding with anxiety. Discovering the room completely empty brought a wave of relief over her. She quickly set the tray down and turned around to bolt out, but just then, she heard the sharp sound of his bathroom door opening. As she rushed to exit, his voice rang out quietly:
"Who exactly did you leave these items for?"
Dije turned back around, her body trembling slightly. She picked up the large tray and was about to leave when he said:
"Go drop that off and come right back here. I am waiting for you."
She hurried out without looking back once, consumed by a deep fear of him. He watched her retreat with a heavy, uninspired gaze, sitting down with his chin resting in his hand as he brooded over the chaotic thoughts weighing down his mind. He was still sitting in that exact position when she returned. He quickly dropped his hand, scanning her from head to toe before shooting her a glare. Widening his eyes aggressively, he snapped:
"Do you expect me to pour this out myself, or what?"
Dije stood there, nervously fidgeting with her fingers. She quickly knelt down, picked up the small flask, and began pouring the tea into a cup. She extended it toward him without making eye contact. Sensing a heavy silence as he refused to take it, she lifted her head to look at him. Her eyes locked directly into his gaze, realizing he was staring fixedly at her chest, which had inadvertently exposed itself through the wide collar of her dress as she bent over to pour the tea. Terrified, she instantly slammed the teacup down, stood up abruptly while adjusting her dress, and turned to flee. He swiftly caught her wrist in a tight grip. Steeling himself despite his bloodshot eyes, he muttered:
"I am trying to have a conversation with you."
Dije looked back, deeply surprised by the uncharacteristic softness in his voice. She forcefully yanked her hand free, crossed her arms tightly over her chest, and stood her ground with a deeply sour expression. Acting entirely indifferent, he picked up the cup of tea, took a slow sip, set it down, and looked up at her, saying:
"Sit down. Don't just stand over my head like that."
Dije sat down on a chair positioned a safe distance away from him, remaining completely silent. He shot her another glare and snapped:
"Oh, so I am your mate now? I sit on a chair and you comfortably sit on a chair too?"
Dije hesitated, making no move to get up. Visibly angered, he barked, "Am I not speaking to you?!"
She quickly slid off the chair, grumbling under her breath. He tracked the movement of her lips, his face hardening further as he asked, "Are you insulting me?"
She quickly looked at him, twisted her mouth in a defiant pout, and said, "If you aren't going to say whatever you have to say, I am leaving."
He threw her a condescending look and replied, "Oho, is that so? Why don't you try walking out that door and see?"
Dije shot him a look of utter disdain. Despite the fear drumming in her chest, she stood up with full intention of walking out. He swiftly stood up, locked the bedroom door, pulled the key out, and marched right over to stand directly in front of her. He took another slow sip of his tea, his eyes locked onto her until he finished it. He held the empty cup out to her, but she flatly refused to take it. He aggressively stomped his foot down on hers with immense pressure, while simultaneously wrapping one powerful arm around her, squeezing her waist tightly.
A sharp, agonizing shriek tore out of her throat from the sudden, sharp pain. She frantically grabbed the cup from his hand, but he refused to give her the space to step back and set it down as she wished. Cruelly, he used his other hand to force her face up, bringing it agonizingly close to his own. Staring deeply into her eyes, a dark, sinister smile spread across his face as he murmured:
"You think you can bring those petty little acts of disrespect you are used to around me, right? Well, this time around, you will find out firsthand that I am absolutely not your playground mate. If you drop this wretched attitude of yours, you might actually save yourself a lot of grief. But if you insist on challenging me, you will be the one to suffer miserably."
Dije violently twisted her head free, glaring at him with pure hatred burning in her eyes as she spat:
"Didn't I tell you never to touch my body again? By WALLAHI, this time I am going to tell Hajiya absolutely everything you have been doing to me!"
Safwan scoffed at her threat, letting out a dark, hypocritical chuckle as he whispered, "Well, let me give you a proper message to deliver to her when you go."
Viciously, he yanked her head forward with such force that her headtie slipped completely off, causing her tied-up hair to spill free as the hairband snapped and fell. Completely losing his senses, Safwan gripped her hair, pulled her face up, and slammed his mouth onto hers like a man possessed. He began sucking her lips with a frantic, unhinged intensity, as though he had been commanded to strip her lips entirely away. Dije wept bitterly from the sharp pain, pounding against his chest with all her might, but her blows did absolutely nothing to deter him. What she initially thought was a passing threat quickly turned into a terrifying reality, and her strength began to fail her. Gathering a sudden burst of desperate energy, she managed to violently shove him back, catching him off guard in his dazed state. She broke away, sobbing uncontrollably as she frantically rubbed her lips, fully expecting to see blood.
Seeing no blood on her fingers, she threw him a look filled with absolute loathing and said, "By WALLAHI, this time you will learn the consequences of violating me!"
Furious, she spun around toward the door to escape, only to remember it was firmly locked. She marched right back to face him, yelling, "Unlock this door and let me out before I scream and gather a crowd against you, by WALLAHI!"
Safwan lifted his bloodshot eyes, a sight that briefly rattled her confidence, but she maintained her defiant stance and challenged:
"Are you going to open this door or not, or do I have to do something to you that will land you straight in the hospital this very instant?"
A short smirk played on his lips as he murmured in a low, husky whisper:
"Why don't you wait for me to do something first? That way, even if you successfully land me in a hospital bed, I won't mind the nursing care because I would have thoroughly satisfied my cravings."
He stepped toward her. She backed away in sheer terror, but he kept advancing. Realizing he was dead serious about violating her again, she pressed her back hard against the wall, pleading frantically:
"For Allah's sake, Malam, please have mercy! By WALLAHI, I hate what you are doing to me! Fear ALLAH; do not subject yourself to the sin of betraying my parents' trust!"
Safwan didn't stop. In fact, he used both of his hands to pin her down, wrapping his arms around her as his hands forcefully found her chest. In a complete state of frenzy, he pulled her zipper down and began fondling her completely at his whim. A fresh wave of absolute terror washed over Dije, accompanied by intense physical distress. Seeing the sheer, unadulterated horror etched across her face, Malam Safwanu finally stopped aggressively pressing his desires against her soft skin. He buried his face into the thick mass of her hair, inhaling the rich scent of the hair oils she had applied. He closed his eyes tightly, pulling her frame into a crushing embrace as a heavy sigh escaped his chest. Overwhelmed by a wave of weeping that completely drained her strength, Dije stopped fighting back. Her knees buckled beneath her, and she slid all the way down to the floor, collapsing into a pitiful, heartbreaking sob, genuinely believing Safwan was committing a monumental sin against Allah.
He quickly knelt down in front of her, staring at her as a sudden wave of self-loathing struck his heart. However, masking his guilt behind a cold, hardened expression, he barked:
"Are you going to shut your mouth right now, or do I need to silence you myself? Let me tell you something: this little stunt I just pulled with you is absolutely nothing compared to what I will do to you if the woman I am about to marry comes into this house and you dare show her an ounce of disrespect! Or if you dare hint that you even know me in her presence! If you ever dare play with the idea that there is any kind of history between us, you will severely regret the day you were born. In fact, even if you hear people mentioning our marriage in front of her, you better be quick to deny it and call it a blatant lie. If you fail to do so, by WALLAHI, what I will do to you next will be a thousand times worse than this. If you think I am just making empty threats, go ahead and expose this secret. I am waiting for you."
The moment he finished his threat, he unlocked the door and stormed out, his heart suddenly feeling entirely light and unburdened, as though a massive boulder had been lifted off his chest. He knew the sheer terror he had struck into Dije would ensure she wouldn't dare pull any reckless stunts when Zee arrived. After all, his single biggest anxiety was her notorious, unapologetic village attitude, which could easily blow up his plans in an instant.
The sheer trauma and anger of what he had done left her completely paralyzed on the floor, unable to leave the room. She cried her eyes out for a long time before finally gathering the strength to steady herself. She tidied up her disheveled clothes and hair and stepped out of the room. Moving like someone walking on eggshells, she slipped quietly into the servants' quarters; she was desperate to avoid Hajiya or anyone else asking her why she had been crying, as she couldn't fathom looking them in the eye and explaining how Safwan had completely desecrated their moral values.
By four o'clock in the afternoon, the household was buzzing as guests began dressing up for the Mother's Day event. Safwan himself was fully dressed, smelling incredibly fresh and expensive, highly ecstatic over the impending arrival of Zee, who was currently en route to the house alongside her close friend, Ruma. He went to Hajiya himself to inform her that he was going to receive Zee and her friend at the gate, requesting that Hajiya stay back so he could bring them inside to exchange proper family pleasantries before they all proceeded to the event venue. Displaying immense warmth, Hajiya showed her absolute delight to ensure he felt supported, hiding the deep frustration she felt regarding his utter lack of emotional maturity. However, when she thought about how he had recently been forced to show some form of attention to Dije, she silently thanked ALLAH, believing her prayers for their marriage were finally being answered.
Meanwhile, Dije had dressed up beautifully alongside the other young girls, smelling absolutely divine despite the heavy sorrow weighing down her heart. She hadn't let her internal pain stop her from putting together an incredibly sophisticated, educated elite look. Surayya had explicitly instructed the makeup artist to style Dije with the exact same premium touch as herself, wanting Zee to see firsthand that Dije was absolutely a force to be reckoned with and not someone to be looked down upon. By the grace of God, Dije emerged looking utterly breathtaking—a beauty so striking she looked like a prize worth stealing. She wore a fitted long gown that hugged her frame perfectly, accentuating her hips and silhouette beautifully. Anyone unaware of the circumstances would have easily mistaken her for the primary bride of the day. Every single detail of her look mirrored that of a bride, right down to the unique, high-class style of her headtie wrap. Dije herself felt an immense boost of confidence, feeling like a member of the elite class rather than a mere sixteen-year-old secondary school student, though her naturally full and mature physique made her look much older than her age.
Haj…
...iya Mama stepped out of her quarters and came to a dead stop when her eyes landed on Dije. A brilliant, proud smile illuminated her face as she gestured for Dije to come closer.
"Masha-Allah, Khadijah," Hajiya Mama praised softly, her voice filled with genuine admiration. "May Allah shield you from the evil eye. You look absolutely radiant."
Surayya walked up from behind, adjusting the gold bangles on her wrist, looking immensely satisfied with her handiwork. "Didn't I tell you, Hajiya? Our Dije is a diamond in the rough. Let's see who dares look down on her today."
Fiddo, who was standing nearby checking her own reflection in a hand mirror, caught a glimpse of Dije and almost choked on her own saliva. Her face instantly contorted into a sour mask of jealousy. She fiercely gripped her mirror, her knuckles turning white. She wanted to slip in a biting remark about village girls wearing expensive lace, but the sharp, warning glare Surayya threw her way pinned her tongue to the roof of her mouth.
Downstairs, the smooth purr of Safwan’s car engine signaled his return. He had gone to pick up Zee and her friend Ruma from the estate gate.
Safwan climbed out of the driver's seat, adjusting the cuffs of his crisply ironed babban riga, exuding the effortless charm of an elite scholar. He opened the passenger door for Zainab (Zee), who stepped out looking elegant in a heavily embroidered, expensive designer outfit, her friend Ruma trailing closely behind her, chewing gum with an air of sophisticated indifference.
"This is the family house, right, babe?" Zee asked, her eyes scanning the beautiful structure with an approving nod.
"Yes," Safwan replied, his voice smooth and welcoming. "Let’s go inside so you can properly greet Hajiya Mama before we head out to the hall. She’s expecting you."
As they climbed the stairs and stepped into the main living room, the space was filled with the laughter and chatter of the family girls. Safwan led Zee inside, but the moment he walked through the door, his eyes instinctively swept the room—and froze.
Standing near the center archway was Dije, laughing quietly at something Surayya had whispered. The fitted gown hugged her perfectly, showing off an elegant, breathtaking maturity that Safwan had tried so desperately to deny just hours before in his bedroom. The professional makeup had elevated her striking features, and the regal style of her headtie made her look like royalty.
Safwan’s breath caught in his throat. His steps faltered for a split second, his heart hammering violently against his ribs. A sudden, irrational surge of possessiveness and burning jealousy flared deep inside him, completely catching him off guard. He felt a sudden, fierce urge to grab her, drag her back into his room, and rip that beautiful gown off her so no other eyes could behold what he had just secretly touched.
Zee, noticing his sudden hesitation, lightly nudged his arm. "Safwan? Is everything okay?"
Safwan snapped out of his daze, quickly swallowing the lump in his throat as he forced his cold, arrogant mask back into place. "Yes, everything is fine. Let's go greet Hajiya."
But as he led Zee forward, Dije turned her head and their eyes locked. Safwan shot her a dark, piercing look, his eyes narrowing as if to silently remind her of the terrifying warning he had given her in the room: Don't you dare show your true colors in front of Zee.
Dije felt a brief shiver of fear pass through her chest under his intense glare, but remembering Hajiya Mama's advice to look completely unfazed, she steeled her heart. She lifted her chin high, held his gaze with a look of cold, unbothered disdain, and then slowly turned her back on him, completely ignoring his existence.
Zee walked up to Hajiya Mama, kneeling down with practiced modesty to offer her greetings. Hajiya Mama received her with effortless grace and hospitality, though her sharp eyes were constantly observing the subtle shifts in the room.
Ruma, however, wasn't paying attention to the elders. Her eyes had been glued to Dije from the moment they walked in. She leaned closer to Zee, nudging her sharply, and whispered under her breath:
"Zee, look over there. Who on earth is that stunning girl in the fitted gown? Don't tell me Safwan has another sister we don't know about, because wallahi, she looks exactly like a bride!"
What happens next when Zee realizes who Dije really is? Let me know when you're ready for the next part!
Zee shifted her gaze toward the direction Ruma was pointing, her eyes narrowing as she took in Dije’s appearance. For a brief moment, a flicker of insecurity crossed Zee’s face, but she quickly suppressed it, forced a tight smile, and whispered back to Ruma, “Maybe she’s just a distant cousin from the village who came for the event. Don't worry about it.”
But Ruma kept staring, completely captivated by Dije’s posture. “A cousin? From the village? Zee, look at that lace. Look at the tailoring. If that’s a village girl, then I’m a local peasant. She has class.”
Safwan, whose ears were burning as he tried to focus on Hajiya Mama’s conversation, felt a cold sweat break out across his neck. He could hear the girls whispering. Every single instinct in his body was screaming at him to get Zee and Ruma out of the house immediately before his carefully constructed lies came crashing down around him.
"Hajiya," Safwan interrupted, his voice slightly strained but maintaining its polished, respectful tone. “The time is running out, and the traffic near the hall might be tight. If you are ready, perhaps we should start heading out to the cars?”
Hajiya Mama looked at her grandson, her expression calm, though her wise eyes held a deep, knowing look that made Safwan's stomach twist. “We are almost ready, Safwan. Let the girls finish adjusting their veils. No need to rush. After all, a celebration is meant to be enjoyed, not rushed through.”
She then turned her gaze toward Dije and called out warmly, “Khadijah, my dear, come over here for a moment.”
At the sound of the name *Khadijah*, Zee’s head snapped toward Dije. Her heart skipped a beat. *Khadijah?* The name Safwan had casually dismissed as an illiterate village girl his family had forced onto him? Zee’s eyes widened as she watched Dije gracefully glide across the living room carpet, the fitted gown moving perfectly with her stride. Dije knelt down elegantly right beside Hajiya Mama, completely ignoring Safwan’s existence, though she could feel his burning, warning glare digging into her side.
"Yes, Hajiya," Dije said, her voice soft, clear, and perfectly composed.
Hajiya Mama placed a gentle, loving hand on Dije’s shoulder, intentionally turning to Zee with a warm smile. “Zainab, this is Khadijah. I believe Safwan has mentioned her to you before. She is a core part of this household now, and she is currently pursuing her studies here in the city.”
The living room fell into a suffocating, dead silence.
Fiddo smirked from the corner, eagerly waiting for the drama to unfold. Surayya stood tall, her arms crossed, watching Zee’s face transform from mild curiosity to absolute, unfiltered shock.
Zee’s breath caught. She looked at the gorgeous, radiant girl kneeling before Hajiya, then looked up at Safwan, whose face had gone completely pale, his jaw clenched tight as he stared at the floor. This wasn’t the unkempt, backward village girl Safwan had described to her to soothe her ego. This was a stunning young woman who looked every bit like a high-class bride.
Ruma’s jaw practically dropped. She looked between Safwan and Zee, realizing the massive storm that had just entered the room.
Dije, remembering Safwan’s brutal threats from earlier in his room—how he had pinned her against the wall, violated her dignity, and warned her never to show any connection to him in front of Zee—felt a surge of pure courage. She looked up, met Zee’s shocked gaze directly, and offered a polite, distant nod.
"Nice to meet you," Dije said calmly, her voice dripping with an effortless, cool indifference that cut through Safwan’s pride like a sharp knife. She didn't claim him, nor did she look afraid. She simply stood up, adjusted her regal headtie, and walked back to Surayya's side, leaving the air in the room heavy enough to crack.
Zee’s hands began to tremble slightly as she gripped her designer handbag. She turned her fierce, questioning eyes toward Safwan, her voice dropping into a dangerously low whisper. “Safwan... what is the meaning of this?”
The tension is reaching a boiling point! Let me know when you're ready for the next part to see how Safwan handles Zee's fury and how Dije plays her cards at the Mother's Day event!
