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Part 20: What is Happening? (Meke Faruwa)
Magajin Malam looked at the Prince. "Prince, please, for Allah’s sake, change your ways. Look, I have to leave; people are already boarding the plane. Please, Yarima, be a proper Muslim."
Yarima looked at him. "Are you saying I am not a Muslim right now?"
"Then become a complete one," Magajin Malam replied.
"I will do my best," Yarima said.
Magajin Malam remarked, "I am honestly surprised; you have completely changed."
Yarima placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know you're just afraid that I'll return to Nigeria and do something to tarnish our family’s reputation. I would never do that. Don't worry, I'll be careful." Yarima watched Magajin Malam until he boarded the plane to head back home.
Meanwhile, His Royal Highness (the King) landed safely. A long motorcade arrived at the airport to receive him. He reclined comfortably on a carpet, leaning against a plush cushion to rest. Beside him sat his senior wife, the Queen, who elegantly arranged a selection of beverages and snacks before him. This was Hajiya Salma, a respectable and wise woman, deeply religious and highly compassionate toward those beneath her. She sat down beside him and asked, "Do you have any news about my youngest son?"
With a relaxed expression, he replied, "Your youngest is doing very well. He has grown quite a bit and has become a fine gentleman. In fact, the country suits him so well that he looks just like an Egyptian Arab." They laughed.
She remarked, "It's only been two years since I last saw him, and he has transformed that much?"
He answered, "You will see him soon; I will arrange a trip for you."
She asked, "Isn't he coming home for his vacation?"
He looked at her. "He will continue spending his vacations in Saudi Arabia, though I believe that in the near future, destiny will bring him back home here." As they conversed and he ate his meal, she tried to probe into what exactly would cause Yarima's return, but he simply told her to be patient—when the time came, she would know.
As always, whenever the King wanted to visit his elderly father-in-law, he preferred to go out alone and drive the vehicle himself. It was currently 9:00 PM when he drove out to his father-in-law's residence. Upon arrival, an attendant entered Modibbo's private quarters to inform him that His Royal Highness had arrived.
After sitting down, the King exchanged greetings with the deeply revered, elderly wise man. Modibbo was a renowned scholar of the Qur'an and Hadith, blessed by Allah with profound foresight. He was no polytheist; he never engaged in sorcery or geomancy (bugun kasa). He was a devout, God-fearing centenarian—short only three years from a full century—yet anyone looking at him would guess he was no older than seventy. Some regarded him as a saint (waliyi), but Allah alone holds absolute knowledge.
With deep reverence, the King greeted the noble Modibbo. The old man responded warmly and affectionately, inquiring about the journey and his namesake, Prince Modibbo. The King replied that the Prince was doing well and had sent his regards.
The King adjusted his posture. "Actually, it is his issue that brings me here tonight." The old man gave the King his full attention and urged him to speak. "During my second visit to him, I caught him with a woman. My heart has been deeply troubled ever since. I have now decided that I should arrange a marriage for him, and we will send the wife over to join him there. What is your view on this?"
The old man fell silent, lost in thought for a moment, before replying, "That is the most appropriate course of action. To prevent exactly this kind of trouble, Islam admonishes that once your children reach maturity, you should marry them off."
The King agreed. "Indeed. I was deeply shocked by how quickly the boy changed."
The old man remarked, "No one is entirely immune to Satan’s temptations, for Satan is no sluggard. For now, go home. I will perform an Istikhara (guidance prayer) regarding his situation, and by Allah's grace, we will discover the best way to handle this." Filled with gratitude, the King offered his parting greetings to the old man, who exerted the effort to stand up and escort his son-in-law right back out to his car.
Elsewhere, Yarima was sitting on a small stone ledge under a shaded tree on his university campus, intensely studying his biology textbooks. When he raised his head, his eyes fell upon a young Chinese girl. She was wearing a short skirt that stopped mid-thigh, paired with a thin-strapped tank top.
Through his glasses, he scanned her thoroughly, his desires instantly stirred by her flawless complexion. As she approached his spot, he deliberately pretended not to notice her. On her part, this was the third time she had seen this handsome guy, and he had left a strong impression on her. She had resolved to interact with him today. Stopping beside him, she greeted him in English, "Hope you're having a nice rest."
His aristocratic pride flared up. He acted as though he hadn't heard her. It was only when she repeated herself that he responded coldly, without even looking up at her. She asked if she could sit beside him.
He replied, "If you wish, you may." She sat down, stealing glances at him. Clearing her throat softly, she asked if she could ask him a question.
He raised his hand to cut her off. "Right now is not the time for questions." She fell silent for a moment before asking, "Well, can you help me then?"
"Is this another time where it's not the moment for help?" he retorted, before adding, "If the help is related to our studies (karatu), I can assist you. If it's about anything else, it shouldn't be done within the school premises. Do you understand?"
She nodded in understanding. She then began asking him questions regarding academic topics that were unclear to her. He proceeded to explain them to her thoroughly until the time for the Asr (late afternoon) prayer arrived. He stood up. She asked, "Where are you going?"
He replied, "Study time is over, and prayer time has begun. Therefore, I am going to pray."
Part 21: What is Happening?
Back in Zaria, Mama looked at Bilkisu and said, "Maigado, please endure and use these items. Use this incense, and use this particular one for your bath."
Bilkisu looked at her. "Mama, please do not join the ranks of women who frequent spiritualists and native doctors, out of fear of falling into shirk (polytheism). Marriage happens only at its appointed time."
Mama replied, "Maigado, I will not stray from the righteous path. What you see here was sent to me by my mother (Umma). This issue must be spiritual or caused by unseen spirits (iskokai); it terrifies me, and I can't understand what is happening."
In a gentle voice, Bilkisu comforted her, "Do not worry, Mama. Insha Allah, Allah will bring what is best for me. One day, all of this will just be a memory."
By this time, Bilkisu and her peers had entered their third year at Ahmadu Bello University (A.B.U.), where she was studying Mass Communication. She harbored a strong desire to become a journalist; despite being naturally quiet, she wanted to be a media professional. She threw herself entirely into her studies. Her mother literally starved herself, sacrificing food and drink, to ensure that Maigado's dreams were realized. Although Mansura's father supported them significantly, university education was no cheap feat. As for Bilkisu's own father, his hatred and public exclusion of her had only worsened over the years.
On this particular Friday, the elderly Modibbo left the Friday mosque and headed straight to the palace to meet His Royal Highness. They withdrew into a private royal chamber, sitting together on a prayer rug. After exchanging greetings, the elder began to speak.
"The first thing revealed to me regarding Yarima's nature is that he is someone with an overwhelming bodily heat—by which I mean he possesses an exceptionally intense sexual drive. Regarding the marriage matter, it will not happen with the absolute urgency you currently desire, but he will marry quite soon. This is because his destined wife is not from this particular state or region, and she currently carries a heavy spiritual affliction. Their convergence will set off a cascade of significant events. My spiritual insights have uncovered many layers to this affair, but Allah knows best, and He alone holds the absolute blueprint of the future."
The old man continued, "However, you may begin seeking marriage proposals for him from other states. Let him see the portraits of potential suitors; perhaps Allah will destine his true match to be among them."
The King agreed. "That is an excellent idea. I will gather photographs of eligible ladies and have them sent to him in Malaysia so he can make a choice. Once selected, we can finalize the wedding and send her over to him."
The elder nodded. "Splendid. That works perfectly. We will continue to back them with prayers." Following their discussion, they took their leave of each other.
Back in Malaysia, Yarima was relaxing in a bathtub filled with highly scented, specialized soaps designed to soften and smoothen the skin. He lay there deeply relaxed, his mind completely consumed by desire for the Chinese girl. It had been a week since their first meeting, and she sought his company constantly, eager to insert herself into his life—especially since she realized that when he was on campus, he was strictly focused on academics. What she did not know was that the university was teeming with girls infatuated with him; they simply knew he would never pay them attention on school grounds. If anyone was truly desperate to see him, they had to seek him out at his private residence, which had already caused two major explosive arguments between him and Vicky.
Part 22: What is Happening?
Bilkisu and her friends finally reached their final year of university. Through sheer grit, intense hardship, and the financial backing of Mansura’s father, she completed her bachelor's degree and qualified as a journalist. They returned home, waiting for their National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) deployment. By divine favor, she was posted to Kaduna State. Mansura's husband, Farooq, adamantly declared that Mansura would not participate in the service scheme due to her advanced pregnancy; he had already moved her to his residence along Same Road in Malali, Kaduna, which was very close to his office. Consequently, Bilkisu planned to stay at Mansura’s marital home, a living arrangement they had already happily agreed upon over the phone.
Throughout her four years at university, Mansura had treated her studies quite casually, especially since the course she was assigned wasn't what she originally applied for.
On the day Bilkisu first put on her official NYSC uniform, she looked incredibly stunning—so much so that she looked like the luckiest woman alive. Mansura gushed, "By Allah, you look absolutely beautiful, Bily!"
Bilkisu looked at her reflection. "I’m just wondering how I'll handle walking around publicly in trousers. I think I'll wear a long cloak over it when leaving the house, then take it off once I arrive at my primary assignment."
Meanwhile, back in Malaysia, Magajin Malam stood outside Yarima's apartment. He had arrived from the airport only to find the apartment locked. He knew that at this time of day, Yarima would be in class. After waiting for nearly three hours, Yarima finally appeared, accompanied by the Chinese girl, their hands tightly locked together.
Magajin Malam muttered to himself, "Wow! Things have escalated even further. If he's now boldly walking around the city holding hands with a woman, this is a serious cause for concern."
Yarima stopped, genuinely shocked to see his friend. "My brother! How long have you been waiting here?"
Magajin Malam stood up, dusting off his clothes. "I've been waiting for over two hours." They shook hands warmly and walked inside, with the Chinese girl following closely behind.
Yarima admitted, "My heart dropped when I saw you. I just pray I'm not about to face some harsh decree from His Royal Highness."
Magajin Malam replied, "Let me rest and perform my prayers first."
"Alright, take your time. Let me quickly go grab us some takeout," Yarima said. He left with Chelen, who had essentially become his shadow; she tagged along everywhere due to her intense jealousy. She constantly reminded him that according to the laws of her country, a man was strictly forbidden from marrying more than one wife.
Yarima, however, told her bluntly that she would just have to deal with it; he intended to date as many women as he pleased, but he would only ever have one legal wife. When she anxiously asked if she would be that wife, he simply replied that he couldn't possibly know.
Later, Yarima and Magajin Malam sat in the middle of the living room, eating snacks and catching up. Yarima was burning with curiosity to know the true reason behind Magajin Malam's sudden visit, but Magajin Malam kept teasing him and delaying the revelation.
"For Allah's sake, Magajin Malam, just tell me!" Yarima pleaded.
Magajin Malam stood up, walked into Yarima's bedroom, and retrieved his backpack. He sat back down, unzipped it, pulled out a thick envelope, and handed it to Yarima. "Here. This is a direct mandate from His Royal Highness. He insists that you look through it thoroughly, as I must return with your direct answer." He then stood up with his bag. "Let me put this bag back; I'll be right back."
Yarima began sorting through the contents, examining the photographs one by one. They were portraits of princesses and daughters of ultra-wealthy elites from various states across Nigeria, with details written on the back of each photo.
Magajin Malam returned and sat close to him. Sensing Yarima’s rising panic, he watched as Yarima turned to him in utter disbelief. "Does His Royal Highness honestly expect me to choose a wife from these?"
"I believe that is exactly the point," Magajin Malam replied.
Yarima snapped, "This is completely unfair! I am only 24 years old, and I am being forced into marriage? I absolutely cannot do this. A person gets old and bogged down by a swarm of children before they know it!"
Magajin Malam asked, "Well, what do you propose to do? I know you wouldn't be foolish enough to say these exact words to his face."
Sweat began to bead on Yarima’s forehead. He turned to his friend. "To be completely honest, even if I were to marry, I have absolutely no interest in Nigerian women. Especially our Northern (Arewa) women—they are so backward and local." He tossed the photos toward Magajin Malam. "Look at them yourself! Look at this. I just don't like this type of person. Furthermore, I have zero desire to practice polygamy. I will marry only one woman, period. I refuse to have my house bursting at the seams with children the way typical Hausa men do." Magajin Malam simply stared at him in utter astonishment.
Part 23: What is Happening?
Magajin Malam said, "Modibbo, you completely baffle me. Whenever I tell you that you've changed, you argue. Now you're saying you don't even want children?"
"Yes, I don't," Yarima replied. "Have you ever once in your life seen me carry a child? Do I ever even play with children?"
Magajin Malam asked sarcastically, "Well, since you despise Nigerian women, what country's women do you actually prefer? Chinese girls?"
Yarima hissed. "Just tell my father that none of the women in these photos appealed to me."
Magajin Malam looked at the photos, amazed by Yarima's rejection; the young women were undeniably gorgeous. He looked up at him. "Women from foreign white countries are not more beautiful or perfectly formed than our own. They are merely fair-skinned. Northern women are exactly the kind of women we ought to marry because—"
Yarima cut him off sharply. "Please, that is your personal opinion. They don't do it for me."
Magajin Malam shifted the topic. "You know, there is actually a girl I deeply love, but I'm terrified of approaching her."
Yarima glanced at her. "What kind of girl could possibly rattle you like that?"
"Sumayya, the daughter of Umman Gombe," Magajin Malam admitted.
Yarima clicked his tongue in annoyance. "You are such a weakling! You mean that little girl is the one causing you to lose your nerve? Don't embarrass me, please. This is exactly why I pride myself so much—no matter how stunning or sophisticated a woman is, she is far too insignificant for me to ever chase or pamper. It has never happened, and it will never happen. That is one area where I am completely unyielding."
Magajin Malam laughed. "Well, women actually prefer arrogant men like you who mistreat them. As for me, I am going to shoot my shot with Sumayya. I originally wanted to wait for your return so you could back me up when we go visit her."
Yarima looked at him sharply. "Go visit her where? At her family home in Gombe?"
"Yes," Magajin Malam replied.
"God forbid!" Yarima declared. "I could never go to a girl's house under the guise of escorting you for courtship. The most I will do is offer my respectful greetings to Umman Gombe when I see her. Listen to me: even highly exalted women have to chase me, not the other way around. I am the one in high demand, not them."
Magajin Malam sighed. "You just don't get it. Our Northern women possess immense self-respect, modesty, and shyness; they will never chase a man. Unless, of course, you happen to run into a rare few who share your twisted mindset."
Yarima hissed loudly. "There is not a single woman in the whole of Nigeria that I could ever fall in love with. I say this with absolute certainty!"
Magajin Malam chuckled. "Stop being so dramatic. There is nothing Allah cannot do. If He wills it, He will completely break your stubborn pride and hand your heart over to a Nigerian girl who will twist you around her little finger exactly as she pleases."
Yarima stood up, dismissing the comment. "That is pure ancient folklore. I don't even think that could happen in a nightmare, let alone in reality. Just take the photos back to him and say none of them worked out. That’s all."
Magajin Malam countered, "And what if His Royal Highness sees one he likes and simply chooses her for you himself?" Yarima gave a bitter, frustrated smile and walked into his bedroom to take a shower.
Fortunately, Bilkisu commenced her National Youth Service smoothly. She was primary-assigned to a radio station in Kaduna, where she gained experience across various broadcasting departments, occasionally being deployed to the television sector as well.
Today, she was scheduled to read the live news broadcast. She was incredibly restless and anxious because she was about to do something she never imagined she would actually achieve, despite dreaming about it for years. Back at the house, Mansura and Farooq showered her with encouragement.
Once the studio cameras were locked onto her, she whispered a silent prayer for calm. Instantly, a deep sense of tranquility washed over her. She began reading the full news bulletin in her flawless, highly eloquent English accent. Masha Allah—that was the unanimous praise from everyone who watched that Monday broadcast, completely captivated by her immense beauty and her melodic, articulate voice.
When she returned home, Mansura hugged her tightly. "Did you see yourself?! It looked as though you've been doing this for years—the way you confidently read, raised your head, and modulated your beautiful eyes!"
Bilkisu laughed. "Oh stop it, what do you mean by modulating my eyes? Don't exaggerate!" Her professional colleagues were equally astonished by her exceptional talent, praising her: "By Allah, you did an amazing job, Bilkisu Muhammad Salis!"
Meanwhile, back in Zaria, her father was utterly furious with Mama. He bitterly claimed that sending Bilkisu to Kaduna was nothing short of sponsoring her into prostitution; he warned that if she contracted HIV/AIDS ("the modern disease"), she should not dare bring it to his house. Ladiyo and the other co-wives fueled his rage, mocking Fatima and claiming Bilkisu had gone out to live a wild, wayward life.
Even the grandmother, Goggo Amarya, declared a spiritual grievance (Allah ya isa) against Fatima, expressing deep regret that her lineage had ever mixed with Fatima's blood. Mama emotionally blocked her ears to their toxic remarks. She stood firm, devoting her days to intense prayers for her daughter, knowing full well that Allah swiftly answers the heartfelt prayers of a mother for her child.
During the drive to escort Magajin Malam to the airport, the two friends continued their intense discussion in the car. Yarima repeatedly hammered his final message into Magajin Malam's ears to deliver to the King.
"For Allah's sake, make sure you tell him that absolutely none of them caught my eye," Yarima insisted.
Magajin Malam chuckled. "By Allah, I could never look His Royal Highness in the eye and say something so disrespectful. I'm just humoring you right now. Once I'm on that flight, I'm going to look through those photos, find the one that appeals to me, and tell the King, 'Here is your son's choice!'"
Yarima gasped. "Are you insane? Are you trying to ruin my life?"
Magajin Malam replied, "Absolutely! Because the moment I say that, wedding preparations will begin, and before you know it, it's a done deal."
Yarima pulled the car over to the curb. "If you betray me like that, what on earth am I supposed to do?"
"Who knows?" Magajin Malam shrugged. "All I know is I refuse to be rude to the King. That is a boundary I won't cross. If you're so brave, call his phone directly and tell him yourself that none of the girls are good enough for you."
Yarima sighed. "You know damn well I could never do that."
"Exactly! Yet you expect me to go before his royal presence and utter such words? His dignity and status mean too much to me. Now, just drive me to the airport before I miss my flight."
Anxious, Yarima dialed the King's direct line, his heart racing as he scrambled to figure out what to say. When the call went through, Yarima offered a respectful greeting. The King answered warmly and asked, "I hope you boys are doing well?"
"We are doing very well, Father," Yarima replied smoothly. "Um, actually, I just called to check on you and offer my respects."
The King cut through the pleasantries. "Speak freely, Modibbo. I know you well enough to know when you have something on your mind."
"No, it's really nothing critical, Your Highness," Yarima stammered.
The King asked, "Alright. I assume you received the package from Magaji, correct?"
"Yes, I did," Yarima replied.
"Have you made a selection?" the King probed directly.
"Yes, well... Uh, no, I haven't chosen anyone specifically. However, I would prefer if you and Mother simply make the choice on my behalf, because none of them stood out to me personally."
The King paused. "Yarima, did you actually look through them thoroughly?"
"I did," Yarima lied smoothly. "But please, just select whoever you deem fit, and I will happily honor your decision, Insha Allah."
"Does this mean you are against the idea of marriage entirely? Do you feel it is too early?" the King asked.
"Not at all," Yarima quickly countered. "Whatever choice you make, I will absolutely comply with it."
There was a brief silence on the line before the King spoke gently, "Very well. Since none of those young ladies suited you, we will look into options from other regions. However, I must offer you this stern fatherly counsel: remain righteous wherever you are and strictly guard yourself against fornication (zina). It is a catastrophic sin. Remember this spiritual law: if you violate another man's daughter, your own daughter will face the same fate; if you transgress with another man's wife, your own wife will be violated. Be a man of virtue."
Yarima swallowed hard. "Thank you, Father. May Allah grant you continued victory. Magajin Malam is right here with me; he is about to board his flight."
The King replied, "May Allah grant him a safe journey."
Yarima hung up and turned to Magajin Malam with a triumphant grin. "I pulled it off! You wicked guy, you were actually laughing at me!" They shared a high-five as Yarima drove into the airport terminal. After bidding his friend farewell, Yarima drove back home in high spirits. What a classic Prince.
Six months flew by since Bilkisu began her NYSC service, and the Eid-el-Kabir (Big Sallah) festival arrived. They were granted a three-day holiday. Mansura and her family insisted that Bilkisu must travel with them to Gombe for the celebrations. Bilkisu initially suggested visiting Zaria first, but her friends convinced her to head to Gombe straight away. It was clear that divine destiny was charting her path. Mama fully supported the trip, telling her, "Go ahead, my child; I would never restrict you from going."
They arrived at Mansura’s sprawling family estate in Gombe. The compound was exceptionally magnificent—a highly luxurious multi-family estate belonging to Farooq’s lineage. They were treated to a lavish reception with an array of delicious gourmet dishes; Farooq’s family absolutely adored Mansura.
Part 23 (Continued)
There were four young women in the household who were Farooq's younger sisters. Sumayya was his only full sister, while the other three shared the same father, yet they lived in absolute harmony and treated each other with deep respect. They held Mansura in high regard. Gathering in their private quarters, the sisters couldn't stop gossiping about Bilkisu's ethereal, breathtaking beauty.
Later that evening, they gathered in the living room of Farooq’s mother (Hajiya), who held immense respect for Mansura. Hajiya struck up a direct, warm conversation with Bilkisu. Observing her mannerisms, she noted gently, "My child, I honestly assumed a beautiful girl like you would be married by now."
Bilkisu smiled modestly. "Allah has simply not decreed its appointed time yet, Hajiya."
Hajiya looked at her with deep affection. "Well, may Allah bring a righteous spouse your way soon. Don't be overly selective or hold out for an impossible standard, do you hear me?"
Bilkisu replied earnestly, "I understand, Hajiya. To be completely honest, it's not even a matter of being picky; I simply haven't found anyone at all. If I actually had an interested suitor, why would I waste time being selective?"
An immediate spiritual connection sparked between Bilkisu and Farooq’s mother, giving Bilkisu the sudden confidence to open up about her profound life struggle. Hajiya adjusted her posture, sensing the weight of the girl's words. "What exactly is happening with you, my daughter?"
Bilkisu opened her heart. "By Allah, Hajiya, I completely do not know. Ever since I reached marriageable age, I have never—not even once, even in a casual or joking manner—had a single man approach me to say, 'Bilkisu, I love you or I want to court you.'"
Utter astonishment and profound pity washed over Hajiya's face. She declared firmly, "Even if it means delaying your return, we must travel to Bauchi so I can personally take you to see my father. He is a highly revered Islamic scholar and a true saint of Allah (waliyin Allah). By the special grace of Allah, your lifelong tribulation will finally come to an absolute end."
Mansura, who was sitting close by listening to the exchange, had initially felt a pang of annoyance at Bilkisu for openly exposing her private shame. However, upon hearing Hajiya's powerful solution, her attitude completely flipped. "Hajiya, we will absolutely go! As for her work commitments, she can easily call her office and report that she is unwell. Farooq has repeatedly told me that we need to visit their grandfather in Bauchi anyway."
Turning to Bilkisu, Mansura added, "Whenever I bring up this issue, you always tell me to just leave everything in Allah's hands. Well, look at this opportunity!"
Hajiya smiled warmly. "Perfect. Farooq will drive you girls there himself. Insha Allah, this knot will be permanently untied, so do not worry yourself further."
Filled with immense gratitude, the girls thanked her profusely as they continued their evening conversation. They had arrived in Gombe on the eve of Eid, and the very next day—the day of the festival—they hit the road, heading straight toward Bauchi.
They arrived and pulled into the grand estate of Modibbo Al-Amin—the resilient, highly revered elderly patriarch. The estate was an absolute architectural marvel: a sprawling, ultra-modern luxury complex custom-designed for him by his successful children. The very front section of the massive estate housed a gigantic royal living room and two master bedrooms, occupied by his youngest son, Jafar, and his immediate family. The elderly patriarch was blessed with a massive lineage of nearly sixteen children—six sons and ten daughters. All of his children were extremely wealthy and well-off, and his daughters were all married to elite, affluent men.
Farooq took the lead, guiding the girls through the palatial complex and stepping directly into the private living room where Modibbo was currently seated...
2. Story Summary Update
This segment accelerates the parallel tracks of the two main characters, rapidly drawing their separate worlds toward an inevitable collision point.
- Modibbo's Moral Crisis: In Malaysia, Prince Al-Amin (Modibbo) is sliding deeper into a life of unchecked hedonism, indulging his intense sexual drives ("bodily heat") with multiple foreign women, including his regular girlfriend Vicky and a new Chinese love interest, Chelen. His father, the King, attempts to curb this by orchestrating an arranged marriage with an elite Nigerian lady. Modibbo fiercely rejects Northern Nigerian (Arewa) women as "local and backward," vowing never to marry a Nigerian or have a large family. Through smooth manipulation, he convinces his father to let the parents pick his bride, arrogantly believing he can never be tamed by a Nigerian woman.
- Bilkisu's Professional Triumph & Spiritual Battle: In Zaria/Kaduna, Bilkisu beats all odds to graduate as a top-tier Mass Communication student from A.B.U. She secures an NYSC placement at a Kaduna radio station and becomes an overnight broadcasting sensation due to her profound beauty and eloquent English delivery. Despite her success, her father and co-wives launch a malicious smear campaign against her character, falsely labeling her a prostitute. Meanwhile, her mother recognizes that Bilkisu's total lack of romantic suitors is an unnatural, severe spiritual curse (iskokai).
The Intersection: The climax of this section occurs during Eid. Bilkisu travels to Gombe with her best friend Mansura, where she confides her spiritual affliction to Farooq’s mother. Recognizing the severity of the problem, the mother orders an immediate trip to Bauchi to seek the spiritual intervention of their grandfather—a renowned holy man (waliyin Allah). The text drops a massive revelation: this grandfather is Modibbo Al-Amin, the exact same wise patriarch whom the King consulted regarding Prince Modibbo's behavior. Bilkisu has unknowingly just walked right into the heart of the Prince’s family estate.
3. Character & Setting Developments
Character Updates
- Yarima Modibbo (The Prince): Shows an escalation of arrogance and cultural alienation. He displays an explicit disdain for his own heritage, labeling Northern women as "local," while simultaneously showing immense double standards—he expects women to chase him but refuses to practice the traditional polygamy of his culture.
- Bilkisu: Transforms from a victimized child into an articulate, highly successful media professional. Despite her external confidence and professional brilliance, she harbors deep internal sorrow and vulnerability regarding her unnatural romantic isolation.
- The King (Mai Martaba) & Hajiya Salma: Represent responsible, traditional governance and parenting. The King is deeply protective of his family's spiritual and societal honor, while Hajiya Salma provides a nurturing, affectionate maternal counterbalance.
Modibbo Al-Amin (The Centenarian Patriarch/Waliyi): Revealed to be the literal structural anchor of the entire book. He is the grandfather to Farooq’s family and a spiritual advisor to the King. He holds deep spiritual insight, correctly diagnosing both the Prince’s intense carnal drives and Bilkisu’s severe spiritual affliction before the two even meet.
Setting Updates
- The Broadcast Studio (Kaduna): A modern space of professional validation for Bilkisu. It highlights her intellectual capability and places her jaw-dropping beauty on a public platform.
The Gombe & Bauchi Palatial Estates: These settings showcase elite, modern Northern Nigerian architectural luxury. They stand in direct, painful contrast to the dilapidated mud walls of Gidan Marina in Zaria where Bilkisu suffered throughout her childhood.
4. Literary Analytics
Key Motifs & Symbolism
- The Photographs as a Catalyst: The envelope of photographs brought to Malaysia symbolizes traditional parental authority trying to impose cultural borders on a globalized, straying youth. Modibbo’s physical rejection (tossing them away) represents his rejection of traditional norms.
- The NYSC Uniform: Bilkisu's uniform symbolizes her socioeconomic liberation and transition into independent adulthood, yet her discomfort with the trousers reflects her ongoing desire to maintain her cultural modesty.
The Spiritual Diagnosis ("Unseen Spirits" / Iskokai): The introduction of a spiritual block explaining Bilkisu's complete lack of suitors adds a layer of magical realism to the narrative. It explains the paradox of an incredibly beautiful, educated, and well-behaved girl being utterly invisible to eligible men.
Dramatic Irony & Structural Design
The author masterfully employs intense dramatic irony in this chapter.
- Yarima explicitly boasts to his friend that no Nigerian woman—and absolutely no Northern woman—could ever capture his heart or break his pride. He claims such a reality only exists in ancient folklore.
- Simultaneously, the elderly patriarch diagnoses that Yarima's destined wife is a highly troubled girl from an outside state carrying a heavy spiritual weight.
- The chapter ends with Bilkisu literally stepping into Yarima's grandfather's living room to seek a cure for that exact spiritual weight.
The structural convergence is perfectly synchronized: the very remedy Bilkisu seeks for her curse is located within the family structure of the man who claims he will never want her.
