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KISHIN BAL-BAL BOOK3
HAUSA NOVELS BY JAMILA UMAR TANKO
Now that Fatiti had traveled all the way to Kano, she remained completely oblivious to the dramatic turn of events happening with Usman back home.
In her absence, Usman placed calls to his father and subsequently reached out to his senior Islamic spiritual mentors, seeking deep enlightenment, spiritual clarity, and sound advice regarding Mufidah’s complex situation. When they questioned him about the exact nature of his relationship with her, he explained that she was merely his next-door neighbor, a professional colleague from his banking days, and a trustworthy confidante. He summarized her impact by explaining that she had provided immense assistance to him at pivotal points in his life, and now, he desperately wanted to return the favor. He expressed a deep desire to be the vessel through which she would regain her health and sanity, so that she too could finally find a husband, get married, and bear children—noting that despite already being around twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, she violently repelled the mere mention of marriage.
His mentors were moved with profound sympathy for her plight. Each offered strategic instructions on how to handle the malevolent jinn (spirits) possessing her, prescribing specific verses for ruqyah (spiritual exorcism) to be recited over water, which would then be sprinkled around her environment and given to her to drink. They also recommended the use of potent spiritual incense formulated for repelling jinn, alongside pure musk (al-miski), which is notoriously effective at driving away satanic forces.
Furthermore, they outlined strict lifestyle guidelines she had to maintain, such as remaining constantly in a state of ritual purity (ablution/alwallah), dressing modestly to conceal her body, completely abstaining from listening to music, and replacing it with the continuous playback of Quranic recitations. Some of the mentors mailed specific herbal formulations for her to consume, while Usman went out into the local markets of Bauchi to personally source the remaining ingredients. However, the true dilemma plaguing his mind was determining the exact strategy he would use to approach Mufidah with these spiritual tools without provoking her hostility.
He began his intervention by lighting the spiritual incense right at his own threshold, allowing the dense smoke to waft toward the boundary separating their two doors, before retreating inside his home and leaving the clay burner (kasko) outside. He would press his ear against his door, listening closely to her chaotic movements as she paced in and out of her apartment, violently slamming doors. Even if she was fast asleep, the smoke would abruptly rouse her; she would experience a violent fit of non-stop sneezing inside her house until she was forced to open her front door and look outside. Finding the corridor completely empty, Usman would quickly dart out, snatch the incense burner, slip back into his apartment, and lock the door behind him.
The strategy yielded immediate results; she completely stopped her routine morning and evening sweeping of the corridor. In fact, when she left for work, she could barely tolerate returning to the building because of the lingering, suffocating fragrance of the incense. The moment he witnessed her returning home, he would instantly ignite a fresh batch of the potent incense, lock his door, and remain inside, ensuring that even if she rushed out to investigate, she would never catch him in the act. Inside her apartment, Mufidah was driven to the brink of absolute madness—constantly weeping, sneezing uncontrollably, and furiously rubbing her eyes from the intense spiritual reaction.
One evening, right after the Maghrib prayer, Usman stepped out of the neighborhood mosque located just outside their building. A remarkably dignified, pious-looking man softly offered him the Islamic greeting from behind. Usman spun around quickly, returned the greeting, and extended his hand for a warm, respectful handshake.
The man inquired politely, "Are you Usman?"
Filled with immense surprise, Usman replied, "Yes, I am."
The man then formally introduced himself: "My name is Imam Malik Hamza. I am the older brother to Barrister Mufidah Hamza—your next-door neighbor."
Hearing this, Usman felt his heart instantly drop into his stomach, fully convinced that a major confrontation was brewing. Imam Malik politely requested that they step aside to a quiet corner to speak in private, and Usman complied. They moved to a secluded spot, where Imam Malik began laying out his grievances. However, Usman found his mind utterly tied in knots, completely unable to comprehend the angle the Imam was coming from.
Imam Malik continued, "Mufidah is my only surviving sister in this world, and I cherish her above all else. I absolutely refuse to let anything distress her. I know for a fact that she is not a troublemaker; she usually coexists peacefully with everyone. However, lately, she has been calling me constantly to lodge bitter complaints against you and Fatiti, claiming that you both are aggressively suffocating and tormenting her. In fact, she is so deeply distressed that she is planning to pack her bags and permanently abandon the building."
Usman asked in confusion, "What specific things did she claim we are doing to her?"
Imam Malik replied, "A multitude of things, but throughout this entire week, your name has been constantly on her lips. She keeps screaming that you are suffocating her life, to the point where she doesn't even know where to turn for peace."
Usman let out a soft, knowing smile and asked, "Did you bother to ask her how exactly I am suffocating her? To the absolute best of my knowledge, Mufidah and I never even cross paths. She never steps foot inside my home, I never cross her threshold, and we don't even exchange basic greetings when we pass each other in the corridor. So, what could possibly bring about a conflict between us?"
Imam Malik fell into a prolonged, thoughtful silence before asking, "Has there been absolutely no vocal argument or altercation between you two this past week?"
Usman responded firmly, "I swear by Allah, not a single thing has transpired between us."
Seeing that Imam Malik was becoming deeply bewildered and conflicted, Usman decided to illuminate the dark truth for him.
He explained, "I assume you are fully aware of her underlying spiritual battle with jinn possession, correct? Well, I happen to be a practitioner of ruqyah; I perform spiritual exorcisms to expel demonic spirits. In all honesty, the potent spiritual incense and the intense warfare prayers echoing from my apartment are what are directly tormenting the spirits bound to her. I am executing these prayers strictly within the confines of my own home, without ever stepping into her apartment."
Upon hearing this, Imam Malik gasped in sheer shock. He lunged forward, grabbing Usman’s hands with trembling palms, his voice shaking with raw emotion. "Usman! I beg you in the name of Allah, please save her! Fight this spiritual holy war (jihad) for our family and deliver her from this horrific calamity! If there is anything in this world that shatters my heart, it is Mufidah's endless sickness. Every single spiritual cleric and mallam I bring to treat her performs their rituals, but she never displays a single sign of manifestation. Ultimately, they just pack up their tools and abandon us, claiming that the spirits possessing her belong to a supreme, highly dangerous hierarchy of jinn. These demons have permanently blocked her from marriage; she harbors a visceral, unexplainable hatred for men. Everything makes perfect sense now! That is why she kept crying out that you were suffocating her, yet her tongue was completely bound from explaining the exact nature of the torment!"
Usman smiled reassuringly and replied, "I will put forth my absolute best efforts to help her. I now fully comprehend the exact nature of her affliction."
The two men immediately began strategizing on the best psychological and spiritual approach to launch the intervention. Meanwhile, inside her apartment, Mufidah was sitting directly in front of her packed travel suitcases, furiously declaring that the very moment her older brother arrived, she was leaving the building permanently.
Together, Usman and Imam Malik marched up the stairs and stepped into her apartment. Mufidah was seated on the couch, her head resting heavily in her palms (tagumi), her eyes completely bloodshot and swollen from hours of intense weeping. Today, out of sheer respect for her senior brother’s authoritative presence, she was dressed exceptionally modestly, completely wrapped in a black abaya with a matching headscarf.
The moment she raised her eyes and locked them onto Usman, her face contorted with bitter rage. She bolted to her feet and aggressively blocked the entryway, standing defiantly in front of him. Though she didn't utter a word, her hostile body language made it crystal clear that she would never allow him to step foot into her home.
Imam Malik opened his mouth to unleash a furious reprimand at her, but Usman gently raised his hand, signaling the Imam to remain completely silent and let him handle it.
Usman offered her a calm, incredibly gentle smile and said softly, "I have only come to sincerely beg for your forgiveness for any wrongs I may have committed against you—both the ones I am aware of and the ones I committed unknowingly."
Hearing his remarkably humble and soft words, the aggressive tension in her chest visibly melted away. She retreated back into the room and sank onto a couch, casually crossing one leg over the other while nervously shaking her foot. Usman took a seat on an armchair directly facing her, and an intense, heavy silence filled the room as they locked eyes in a tense standoff.
Imam Malik found a chair nearby, sitting silently on the periphery, watching the raw psychological tension between the two. Usman quietly whispered the Bismillah and immediately commenced the recitation of high-voltage Quranic warfare verses.
Instantly, Mufidah leapt to her feet in a violent, unnatural panic, screaming hysterically, "Shut your mouth, Malama! We are astronomically more powerful than you could ever imagine!"
Imam Malik quickly gestured to Usman, signaling him to intensify the prayers and press forward. Usman paused briefly, stating that he needed to quickly dash back to his apartment to retrieve his primary spiritual instruments.
The moment he left, Mufidah rushed into her bedroom. When she emerged a few moments later, her entire physical countenance had completely transformed. Her modest demeanor evaporated; she had adorned herself with five distinct, bizarre occult amulets (mucizai) hanging conspicuously around her neck. She had stripped off her abaya, leaving her dressed in nothing but a tight-fitting top and long denim jeans.
Witnessing this terrifying, demonic manifestation, Imam Malik bolted from his seat in absolute terror, lunging toward the front door to flee the apartment. He practically crashed into Usman, who was just walking back in with his tools.
Usman firmly commanded the trembling Imam to step back inside and sit down, assuring him with absolute authority that the entity could not cause him any physical harm. Imam Malik felt as though he was witnessing the end of the world; he retreated to the furthest, absolute corner of the living room, standing frozen out of sheer terror. He frantically begged Usman not to lock the front door under any circumstances, desperate to ensure a completely unobstructed escape route should things take a monstrous turn.
Usman sat directly opposite her, locking his gaze onto her face. He began reciting the Holy Quran, gradually escalating his voice from a low, rhythmic whisper into a deafening, thunderous roar. Initially, she attempted to stare him down with a murderous, demonic glare, but as the divine frequencies pierced the room, the spiritual torment became completely unbearable for her. Both she and the occult amulets around her neck began violently writhing, twisting, and agitating in unnatural contortions. Letting out a long, venomous hiss of frustration, she violently kicked the floor, spun around, and retreated into her bedroom.
Imam Malik whispered frantically in a trembling, panicked voice, "Let’s pursue her into the bedroom!"
Usman calmly shook his head and replied, "No, leave her alone for now."
Usman then ignited fresh coals inside his clay burner, heavily piling on the specialized spiritual incense designed to target jinn. He carefully pushed the smoking burner deep into the corridor leading to the bedrooms. Not even five minutes had passed before the bedroom door flew open. Mufidah emerged, staggered out into the living room, staggering blindly from side to side as if she were about to lose consciousness. This time around, she was completely alone—the terrifying, malevolent energy of the amulets had entirely vanished.
Usman instructed Imam Malik to quickly fetch her a large hijab to cover her body. The Imam dashed into the bedroom, retrieved the garment, and quickly wrapped it over her, holding her firmly as her legs began to completely give way. She aggressively shrugged off his grip, stumbled forward, and collapsed heavily onto a long sofa. Seizing the absolute peak of her vulnerability, Usman pinned himself close to her ears and began reciting the heaviest deliverance verses at a deafening volume. He sustained the spiritual onslaught relentlessly until the possessing entities were completely broken and forced to speak. The arrogant, stubborn, high-ranking jinn fought a brutal losing battle until the fire of the Quran became unbearable, while the lesser, more submissive spirits exited her body peacefully, offering solemn Islamic oaths never to return for the rest of eternity. They later described that catastrophic day as their literal Day of Judgment—an experience of absolute psychological and physical annihilation, where many of their legions were completely consumed by divine fire.
Imam Malik burst into tears of pure, overwhelming joy as he watched his beloved sister being systematically rescued from the clutches of the demonic captors who had stolen her youth and sanity for so many agonizing years. Following the violent exodus of the spirits, Mufidah was left completely shattered and physically exhausted. She fell into a deep, comatose sleep that lasted for several hours. Before she awoke, Usman handed Imam Malik an assortment of specialized spiritual oils, instructing him to meticulously apply them to the bridges of her nostrils and the inner contours of her ears.
When she finally opened her eyes, the very first words that slipped from her lips were prayers of glorification to Allah and the sacred Islamic testimony of faith (The Shahada). This was the ultimate confirmation that the spiritual surgery had been a glorious success. She opened her eyes, looked up at Usman, and then turned her gaze toward her older brother. Overwhelmed with emotion, she burst into hysterical weeping and threw her arms tightly around her brother's neck. Imam Malik wept openly alongside her, while a profound wave of sympathy caused tears to well up in Usman’s eyes as well.
Usman offered profound praises to Allah and announced, "The spiritual clearing is complete. Now, the final crucial step is for her to go into her room, gather those demonic amulets and every single piece of occult paraphernalia they forced her to keep, and we must drive deep into the wilderness to permanently neutralize them."
Mufidah looked completely dazed, failing to comprehend the magnitude of what had just happened until Imam Malik took her hand, led her into the bedroom, and gently explained everything to her in a soothing tone. Calmed by his words, she began digging through the deepest, hidden corners of her room, pulling out a massive, terrifying hoard of occult items that the spirits had manipulated her into purchasing and dedicating to them over the years. She unearthed a mystical calabash filled with sour milk, ancient clay pots, earthen jars, intricate leather amulets, strips of hyena skin, lion pelts, and various deep-forest occult fetters.
They packed the massive collection into large heavy-duty bags. Carrying the sacred calabash of the amulets, they all piled into the car and drove a considerable distance, deep into the remote, isolated wilderness. They finally pulled over in a desolate area, dumped the occult items into a massive pile, and set them ablaze, watching the demonic paraphernalia burn to absolute ashes.
The transformation was so stark that anyone who laid eyes on Mufidah from that moment forward could instantly tell she was a completely renewed human being. She herself felt an indescribable, weightless freedom wash over her soul; for the first time in her life, she realized that she had been living in invisible, agonizing spiritual chains.
Upon their return to the apartment, Usman informed Imam Malik that he had placed calls to his two senior spiritual mentors—the very men who had trained him in the advanced arts of ruqyah. He explained that he wanted them to travel down to conduct a rigorous secondary diagnostic screening on Mufidah to ensure no lingering spirits remained, and to permanently seal all the spiritual entry points (chakras/loopholes) that the demons had punctured in her soul over the years, preventing any future reinfection.
Without a moment's hesitation, Imam Malik enthusiastically agreed, showering Usman with endless gratitude before asking how much money he should wire to cover the mentors' luxury travel expenses. Usman firmly declined, stating that he would personally handle all financial costs.
By the following afternoon, the esteemed senior clerics arrived at the building. They were warmly received inside Usman's living room, where they performed their prayers. Usman then went out to buy a generous spread of high-end meals for them to eat, before calling Imam Malik on his phone.
As it turned out, Imam Malik had spent the entire night sleeping over at Mufidah's apartment to guard her, accompanied by one of Murjanatu Bibi’s trusted domestic assistants, whom they affectionately referred to as "Patient." Patient had been dispatched specifically to nurse Mufidah, meticulously preparing her meals and tending to her recovery.
Imam Malik immediately insisted that the clerics move the session over to Mufidah's more spacious apartment, throwing the living room doors wide open before they even walked across the corridor. He then quietly slipped into Mufidah's bedroom, gently coaxing her to wake up and come out. She was currently burning with a severe, racking fever and intense joint pain—a completely expected physical reaction as her body reeled from the sudden evacuation of demonic legions that had established a generational fortress inside her flesh.
She emerged from her room completely enveloped in a massive, floor-length hijab, lowering herself with extreme humility onto a sofa before softly offering her respects and greetings to the venerable scholars. They instructed her to come down from the couch and sit directly before them on the carpet. As they commenced their thunderous, rhythmic recitations of protection and blew spiritual blessings over her, her body suddenly stiffened; she let out a massive, unnatural stretch and collapsed onto the floor. As it turned out, a final, highly elusive entity had remained hidden deep within her core—the absolute kingpin of the demonic legion, the ancient master spirit who had textually claimed her as his spiritual wife.
Speaking through her voice, the jinn fiercely declared that he would absolutely never abandon her, claiming she was his rightful wife and that he had paid her spiritual dowry in full. A brutal, agonizing spiritual battle ensued, dragging on with intense resistance until the conclusion of the Ishe prayer. Finally, broken by the unyielding fire of the divine verses, the master jinn surrendered, pledged his absolute submission, agreed to dismantle his spiritual belongings, and exited her body permanently, burning into non-existence as he left.
Following his exit, the scholars unleashed a powerful torrent of sealing prayers over her entire body until they were absolutely certain that every single spiritual entryway had been permanently fortified, ensuring no demonic entity could ever breach her soul again.
Mufidah sat up completely anchored, her gaze soft, modest, and downcast—completely cured of that intense, unblinking, and terrifyingly cold stare she used to direct at everyone.
The scholars sat her down and delivered a beautiful, profound sermon, urging her to tightly anchor her life to daily prayers, specifically emphasizing the mandatory morning and evening prophetic invocations (Azkar). They provided exhaustive spiritual counsel on how to safeguard her body and honor the boundaries of Allah through strict adherence to Islamic law (Sharia), commanding her to maintain modest dress so that no wandering spirit could ever find a foothold in her life again. Finally, they equipped her with a comprehensive regimen of spiritual incenses, therapeutic washing solutions, and medicinal oils for drinking and topical application.
She received the items with deep, heartfelt tears of gratitude, before quietly retreating into her bedroom, where she burst into a long, uncontrollable fit of weeping—this time, tears of pure relief and profound spiritual awakening.
Meanwhile, Imam Malik had instructed Patient to prepare an absolute royal feast for the esteemed guests. The dining table was heavily laden with gourmet delicacies: roasted chickens, aromatic rice, traditional pounded rice mash (tuwon shinkafa), and rich pounded yam (sakwara) paired with a decadent, highly nutritious green leaf soup overflowing with assortment of choice meats, beef, tender fish, and local cow-skin delicacies (ganda). The spread was complemented by an array of exotic fruit juices, local teas, and warm gruel (kunu). Everyone gathered around the magnificent feast, eating to their absolute satisfaction amidst warm, lighthearted conversation.
Throughout the evening, Imam Malik found himself developing a deep, profound admiration for Usman. As their conversation deepened, it became glaringly obvious to the Imam that Usman was a remarkably rare gem—possessing an elite combination of high-end Western education, deep Quranic scholarship, absolute emotional intelligence, impeccable manners, and profound humility.
During their extended chat, as the Imam asked a series of polite questions about his background, Usman disclosed that he was a native of Kano and a family man with one wife and four children. However, out of intense personal pride, he completely omitted the fact that he was currently unemployed and financially destitute.
Before the scholars departed, Imam Malik attempted to hand a substantial cash token of 100,000 Naira to each of the two senior clerics. Usman immediately intervened, frantically begging the Imam not to give them a single kobo. However, the Imam adamantly refused to back down, stating that no amount of money could ever truly compensate them for rescuing his sister's life, explaining that the cash was merely a basic token to facilitate their smooth travels.
The esteemed scholars spent the night sleeping comfortably at Usman's apartment. Early the next morning, Usman personally escorted them to the commercial motor park, bidding them farewell as they embarked on their journey back to Kano. The clerics were beaming with uncontainable joy, showering Usman with endless prayers of gratitude as their vehicle pulled away.
Imam Malik desperately tried to pressure Usman into providing his bank account details so he could wire a massive financial reward to him, but Usman steadfastly refused to cooperate. The Imam then attempted to forcefully press a large wad of cash directly into Usman's hands, but Usman vehemently pushed it back, declaring with absolute sincerity that he had executed the entire spiritual rescue solely for the sake of Almighty Allah. Realizing the unyielding integrity of the man before him, the Imam showered him with profound gratitude, bidding him a warm farewell as he prepared to return to his base in Abuja—noting that he had abruptly abandoned a mountain of executive corporate duties to rush down for this emergency, and promising to return for an extended visit in a few weeks.
Before stepping into his car, Imam Malik solemnly placed Mufidah under Usman's direct protection. He begged Usman to act as her primary guardian, to keep a highly vigilant eye over her daily affairs, and to strictly reprimand her or call him immediately if he ever caught her walking around the building without a proper headscarf or slipping back into her old habits of listening to secular music. Usman accepted the heavy responsibility with absolute gravity, promising to guard her honor as a sacred trust.
Furthermore, Imam Malik delivered a stern, highly authoritative lecture to Mufidah, commanding her to absolute obedience toward Usman's directives. He reminded her that Usman was not merely her next-door neighbor, but her spiritual savior and mentor—not an enemy. He emphasized that Usman's past interventions were driven solely by a desire to see her healed and whole, never out of a desire to malice or torment her.
Mufidah nodded submissively, confessing in a soft, humbled voice that she finally saw the truth clearly. She admitted that she had completely misconstrued his past actions, foolishly assuming that Usman and Fatiti were intentionally provoking and suffocating her simply because they wanted to orchestrate her eviction from the building.
Several days passed following Imam Malik's departure, during which Usman didn't catch a single glimpse of Mufidah. However, he regularly encountered Patient diligently sweeping the central staircase every morning, and they would exchange polite greetings before he went his way.
On this particular day, however, when Patient offered her usual morning greeting, Usman found himself entirely unable to contain his curiosity. He broke his silence and inquired gently, "Patient, how is Mufidah doing? Is everything alright with her health? I haven't caught a glimpse of her lately." Before Patient could even formulate a response, Usman's eyes locked directly with Mufidah. She was sitting gracefully inside her living room, beautifully wrapped in a modest hijab, quietly holding a warm cup of tea in her hands. The moment she noticed his presence, she gracefully glided down from her couch, knelt completely flat on the floor in accordance with traditional respect, and softly offered her greetings to him. Usman felt a profound surge of masculine satisfaction and pride wash over his chest at this stunning new dynamic. Emboldened by her absolute humility, he stepped confidently across her threshold, offering a warm Islamic greeting as he walked into her living room and took a seat on an armchair directly facing her.
He instantly noticed a beautiful, soft bashfulness dancing in her eyes—a breathtaking contrast to the icy, murderous glares she used to pierce him with in the past. He inquired warmly about her physical recovery and how she was feeling. She replied softly that she felt remarkably light and peaceful, noting that her horrific nightmares had completely vanished and she no longer felt any oppressive weight in her body.
Usman declared aloud with deep gratitude, "Alhamdulillah! May Allah perfect your healing. Please, continue to tightly safeguard your spirit with constant prayers, maintain absolute modesty in your dress, and ensure you light the spiritual protective incense every morning and evening without fail."
She looked up at him, her voice filled with soft emotion as she replied, "Thank you so much."
He stood up and began walking toward the exit. She quietly followed him with her gaze as he paused at the threshold to slip into his shoes. Suddenly, Usman turned around to steal a final glance at her. Their eyes locked in a sudden, emotionally charged moment, causing both of them to quickly avert their gazes in deep, mutual embarrassment.
He walked down to the courtyard, slid into the driver's seat of his car, and started the engine to warm it up. However, as the engine idled, his mind completely spun out of control. He found himself utterly paralyzed by a strange, intoxicating sensation spreading through his veins; Mufidah was suddenly consuming his every thought. In the past, he had easily classified his fixation on her as pure, localized neighborly sympathy. But now? His heart confessed that this intense emotion transcended basic pity. It was something vastly deeper, warmer, and terrifyingly magnetic.
Upstairs in her apartment, Mufidah was pacing restlessly, shaking her head as she struggled to comprehend a bizarre, beautiful cocktail of emotions that she had never experienced in all her years of existence. Over the past forty-eight hours, Usman’s face had become permanently etched into her mind; suddenly, every single thing he did, every word he spoke, and every movement he made appeared extraordinarily captivating and profoundly attractive to her.
Usman relentlessly threw himself into the chaotic, brutal hustle of daily survival, desperate to secure funds to keep his family afloat. Alongside his routine data-entry and typing gigs at the local cyber cafe, he began utilizing his luxury vehicle as an interstate commercial cab, transporting passengers from one town to another—sometimes embarking on exhausting long-distance journeys, and other times executing quick short-distance runs. However, his most lucrative breakthroughs occurred when high-net-worth clients hired his car for exclusive, expensive private charters (shata). These wealthy individuals preferred his vehicle because it was immaculately maintained and equipped with a freezing air-conditioning system, and they gladly paid him large, lump-sum cash payments upon their arrival.
As for his complicated saga with Jalila, now that a powerful male figure (Imam Malik) had stepped into the picture, the intense, suffocating harassment from Her Excellency had completely died down. However, Jalila herself had officially turned up the heat; she was aggressively hunting him down, tracking his movements everywhere he went. By some stroke of luck, his erratic schedule kept them apart; every time she stormed a location looking for him, she would discover he had exited just moments prior. Her obsession was so relentless that Tanimu frequently acted as a courier, handing Usman handwritten letters with the repeated message: "This is from that wealthy lady who drives the luxury black car." The letters were dripping with intense romantic declarations and explicit demands for marriage, alongside desperate apologies for her older sister’s past actions, fiercely swearing that the legal threats were executed completely without her consent.
One bright afternoon, Usman and Mufidah unexpectedly crossed paths in the central courtyard of the building. Usman was carefully loading his travel suitcases into the boot of his car, while Mufidah had just stepped out of the staircase, elegantly dressed and heading out to her corporate job.
They exchanged greetings, their faces instantly illuminating with genuine, radiant smiles. Usman politely informed her that he was about to hit the highway to Kano, noting that he would be spending several days there. The moment the words left his lips, he watched her facial expression instantly fall into a shadow of profound disappointment.
Amused and deeply touched by her transparent reaction, he looked at her with a soft smile and reassured her, "I will be gone for only a single week, and then I’ll be right back."
She quietly nodded her head, swallowing her disappointment as she replied softly, "Safe travels. May Allah protect you on the highway."
Yet, neither of them moved. He remained standing by his trunk, and she stood frozen by her driver's side door, locked in a prolonged, intensely charged gaze. It was glaringly obvious that both of them were completely aching to say something deeper, yet their tongues were bound by propriety.
He finally broke the silence, asking softly, "Is there something you want to tell me?"
She startled slightly, quickly shaking her head as she stammered, "Oh, no, it's nothing at all. Please, extend my warmest regards to Ahmad and the rest of the children. My only regret is that you didn't inform me of your trip earlier; I would have loved to put together a massive package of high-end candies and sweets for you to take to them."
Usman let out a rich, happy laugh and replied, "Your beautiful regards are more than enough. I promise to deliver your message safely..."
Before the final words could fully leave his mouth, a sleek luxury car suddenly came tearing through the main gate. The vehicle drove aggressively across the courtyard, screeching to a halt directly in front of Usman's car, effectively blockading his path so it was physically impossible for him to drive out. The door swung open, and an exceptionally stunning, high-class woman stepped out onto the pavement. She marched toward them with an elite, arrogant sway, dressed in an incredibly expensive, heavily embroidered green and black Swiss lace skirt and blouse set. A delicate, matching green designer shawl was loosely draped over her head. As she sauntered closer, swaying her hips with absolute confidence, Usman's eyes widened in horror. It was none other than Jalila.
She dramatically whipped off her dark designer sunglasses, casting a thoroughly venomous, top-to-bottom glare at Mufidah, before aggressively wedging her body directly between the two of them. She spun around to face Usman, confidently dangling her car keys on her finger as she declared loudly, "Well, look what we have here! I have finally caught you today, and there is absolutely no escape route for you this time around! I have officially finalized every single arrangement for our wedding, and you are the absolute only element I have been waiting for!"
Usman’s eyes immediately darted toward Mufidah in sheer panic. The sudden emotional shock hit Mufidah like a physical blow; a violent, blinding migraine instantly racked her head. She gripped her temples in intense agony, stumbling backward until her body crashed heavily against the side of her car for support. With immense difficulty, her trembling fingers fumbled with her car door; she slid into the driver's seat and collapsed against the steering wheel, completely paralyzed and unable to drive.
Jalila continued her loud, aggressive romantic demands, but Usman’s mind had gone completely numb; he couldn't process a single syllable leaving her lips. His entire universe had narrowed down to the sight of Mufidah collapsed inside her car. He violently lunged forward, attempting to push past Jalila to rush to Mufidah's side.
Jalila instantly threw her body in front of him, blockading his path yet again as she snapped bitterly, "Are you seriously refusing to look at me because of that woman?! Barrister Mufidah Hamza?! Let me tell you something, Usman—Mufidah will absolutely never lower herself to look at a man of your status! If you are blind to her horrific past, let me gladly educate you on the type of woman she is!"
Usman was completely stunned, his mind reeling over how on earth Jalila possessed such intimate knowledge about Mufidah’s identity.
Before he could formulate a thought, he caught a glimpse of Mufidah’s silhouette out of the corner of his eye. She had bolted out of her car and was frantically sprinting up the staircase, fleeing into her apartment. In that explosive split second, a profound revelation crystallized in Usman's soul: the intense emotional current he felt for her was actively reciprocated. Mufidah was deeply in love with him, and her violent physical reaction was nothing short of raw, unadulterated, toxic marital jealousy (kishi).
He spun around to face Jalila, his eyes flashing with a terrifying, dangerous rage. He raised his hand and swore a thunderous oath by the Almighty Creator who holds his very soul in His hands, declaring that if she ever dared to track him to his residence or ambush him in public again, whatever horrific public humiliation and degradation he unleashed upon her would be entirely her own making.
He repeated his words with absolute finality, shouting directly into her face that he would absolutely never marry her, and that the only way she would ever secure a union with him was if they took his dead corpse to the altar.
Blindsided and deeply humiliated by his public rejection, Jalila exploded into a furious rage, screaming a torrent of bitter curses. She vowed that they would fight this battle to the absolute bitter end, screaming that since he had chosen to degrade her over a broken woman like Mufidah, she would personally ensure he would never find peace or luxury in that building. With tears of pure humiliation streaming down her heavily made-up face, she violently threw herself into her car, slammed the accelerator, and tore out of the gate in a cloud of dust.
Unbeknownst to them, this entire explosive, high-stakes drama had unfolded directly before a hidden audience. Safiya had been permanently glued to her window, carefully peering through the slits of her curtains, meticulously recording every single detail, and actively typing out a highly volatile, weaponized report to dispatch straight to Fatiti in Kano.
Usman sprinted up the concrete stairs, arriving at Mufidah's landing completely breathless. He began pounding on her front door with frantic urgency. Patient rushed to the entryway and threw the door open.
He demanded in a breathless panic, "Where on earth is Mufidah?!"
Patient replied nervously, "She ran straight into her bedroom, locked the door, and threw herself onto the bed."
Usman instructed her to go call her out immediately, commanding her to tell Mufidah that Usman was waiting. As Patient disappeared down the corridor, Usman stood frozen in the center of her luxurious living room, his eyes wandering across the wall frames showcasing her breathlessly beautiful portraits. He felt completely powerless to avert his gaze from the sheer depth of her stunning eyes; she possessed the elite, classic beauty of an Ethiopian princess—an exquisite nose, thick luxurious hair, and massive, mesmerizing eyes. He looked around at the sheer structural layout of her apartment; every single piece of furniture, decor, and appliance was high-end, radiating pure sophistication and elite class. A heavy wave of socioeconomic reality crashed into his chest—he realized that compared to this palace, his own apartment was a literal trash dump. There was absolutely no basis to claim their two homes belonged to the same building; he and Fatiti were nothing but uncultured, local peasants living amidst a pile of cheap clutter. The mesmerizing, high-end fragrance anchoring the air of her home filled his senses, making him ache to cross her threshold every single hour of the day. He closed his eyes, inhaling the intoxicating scent, only to open them and find Patient standing directly before him.
She slowly shook her head in deep distress and whispered, "She flatly refused to come out. In fact, she is inside sobbing her heart out."
Usman felt his entire emotional stability crumble. Turning to the maid, he commanded urgently, "Take me directly to her bedroom right now!"
Patient took the lead, and Usman followed closely behind her, his eyes taking in the grandeur of the hallway. All three massive bedrooms stood wide open, each meticulously curated with ultra-luxury king-sized beds, premium bedding, and individual air-conditioning units blasting freezing air throughout the spaces.
Mufidah was collapsed across a massive, magnificent bed that completely dwarfed the furniture in the other rooms. Her back was turned to the door, her shoulders shaking violently as she aggressively wiped away a non-stop torrent of bitter tears.
Suddenly, a deep, incredibly familiar masculine voice broke through her sorrow, sounding like a beautiful melody from a dream: "So, have you officially decided to abandon your job today because of this?"
Startled to her very core, she violently sat up and spun around. Her eyes widened in absolute disbelief—Usman was standing directly inside her sanctuary, his presence real and unyielding. She completely lost the ability to speak, but her heart was instantly flooded with a wave of pure, unadulterated ecstasy.
Usman steps closer, his gaze locked onto her trembling form as he continues softly, "I sent my assistant to call you out and you flatly refused to come to me. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands and walk right in. I am fully aware that stepping directly into your private bedroom breaches every boundary of propriety, but my heart simply gave me no other choice. Come out to the living room; I am waiting for you."
She offered a slow, submissive nod of her head. Usman turned and walked back to the center of the living room, his eyes continuing to feast on the sheer luxury of her environment. Finally, his gaze drifted toward the open kitchen layout, taking in the state-of-the-art culinary appliances and delicacies...
[The text concludes at this point...]
Comprehensive Story Summary & Critical Commentary
1. Plot Synopsis of the Segment
This crucial segment documents a massive spiritual and romantic turning point in the overarching narrative. While Fatiti is away in Kano (and being fed incendiary espionage reports by the manipulative neighbor Safiya), Usman takes decisive action to rescue their neighbor, Barrister Mufidah, from a severe, generational case of demonic (jinn) possession. Collaborating with Mufidah's older brother, Imam Malik, and senior clerics from Kano, Usman executes a high-voltage spiritual exorcism (ruqyah). They successfully expel a legion of malevolent spirits—including a powerful "master jinn" who had claimed Mufidah as his spiritual wife and blocked her from human marriage—and permanently incinerate her massive hoard of hidden occult amulets (mucizai) and fetishes in the wilderness.
Following her complete deliverance, Mufidah undergoes a profound behavioral transformation, shifting from an arrogant, immodest, and hostile recluse into a deeply pious, respectful, and covered Muslim woman. This shared trauma triggers a powerful, unstated mutual romantic attraction between Usman and Mufidah. The segment climaxes when Jalila (Usman's wealthy stalker) ambushes Usman in the courtyard to demand marriage, triggering an explosive wave of intense marital jealousy (kishi) from Mufidah. The text ends with Usman breaking all social taboos by pursuing an emotional, weeping Mufidah directly into her luxury bedroom to comfort her.
2. Character & Thematic Analysis
- The Intersection of Class and Spiritual Warfare: The author constructs a striking contrast between modern elite status and ancient spiritual vulnerability. Mufidah is a highly educated lawyer (Barrister) living in an ultra-luxurious, air-conditioned apartment filled with high-end Ethiopian aesthetics. Yet, beneath this veneer of Western success, she is bound by ancient African occult forces (hyena skins, lion pelts, blood-calabashes). Her deliverance requires Usman—a broke, unemployed former banker—to strip her of her elite arrogance and bring her down to the carpet.
- The Evolution of Kishi (Jealousy): In the previous chapter, Fatiti's jealousy was framed as an irrational, destructive force (Kishin Hauka). In this chapter, the author introduces a parallel manifestation of jealousy through Mufidah. The moment Mufidah witnesses Jalila asserting a marital claim over Usman, she experiences a psychosomatic crisis (a blinding migraine) and flees to weep in her room. This shifts the narrative dynamic: Usman is no longer just a neighborly savior; he is now a highly coveted prize caught between three women (Fatiti, Jalila, and Mufidah).
Socioeconomic Despair vs. Domestic Splendor: When Usman enters Mufidah's bedroom, the author emphasizes his deep psychological insecurity. He looks at her high-end furniture, individual AC units, and Ethiopian features, and explicitly concludes that he and Fatiti are "peasants" living in a "trash dump." This severe wealth disparity sets up a complex psychological foundation for Usman's growing affection: Mufidah represents the elite world of banking and luxury that he was violently expelled from due to his recent unemployment.
Analytical Insights & Cultural Context
Hausa Term / Cultural ConceptContextual Meaning in the TextSocio-Spiritual SignificanceRuqyah (رُقْيَة)Spiritual Exorcism via Quranic RecitationThe mainstream Islamic alternative to traditional occult practices, focusing on verses of absolute divine sovereignty to combat jinn possession.Mucizai / TarkaceOccult Amulets / Fetish ParaphernaliaRepresents the syncretic underbelly of spiritual affliction, where victims are manipulated by jinn into purchasing pelts, earthen pots, and charms.TagumiResting the chin in the palmsA distinct Hausa somatic gesture universally indicative of profound sorrow, psychological depression, or deep distress.Kishin HaukaBlind / Irrational Domestic JealousyThe primary thematic engine driving the subplots of Fatiti, Mufidah, and Jalila, acting as both a motivation and a psychological affliction.
