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Part 2: What is Happening? (Meke Faruwa)
He was lying inside the massive bathtub in the huge bathroom—it didn’t even look like a bathroom because it was so incredibly large. From the position of the giant tub, you could watch a TV mounted on the wall a short distance away. The toilet area was perfectly arranged and spotless.
Lying in the tub was Modibbo. Soaking in warm, soapy, heavily scented water, he changed the channel to CNN. From where he lay, he could hear a knock on the bathroom door. Who could it be? he asked himself, but he kept on watching his program. Remembering that whoever it was had already been waiting for about half an hour, he finally began to scrub his body. He pulled the drain plug to let the water escape, turned on the shower hanging above to rinse off, and used a small towel to dry his hair. After sliding his feet into soft slippers, he sat on a chair right there in the bathroom, rubbed aromatic body cream and perfumes onto his skin, and styled his hair with various hair products.
Modibbo spent money on himself beyond what anyone could imagine. Standing up with an aristocratic gait, he headed to his bedroom to get dressed. He glanced at the door leading to the living room and remembered someone was waiting for him. He hissed (clicked his tongue) and locked his bedroom door behind him, muttering that whoever it was could leave if they wanted, because it was time for his classes ("kar2" - karatu). He dressed in blue jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, walked to the dresser, gathered his documents and phones, shoved them into his pockets, put on slip-on shoes, and walked out.
Vicky was sitting in the living room waiting for him. He acted as though he didn't even see her, despite how deeply he loved her. As he headed for the exit, she quickly stood up and called out to him:
"Darling Prince, D.P.!"
He kept walking. She broke into a fast jog to catch up, placed her hand on his shoulder, and spoke to him in English. He looked at her as if he wouldn't reply, then said, "You sure calmed down quickly." He pouted. "I think you forgot who I am, which is why you're throwing tantrums at me. I don't have time to pamper women, despite my love for them. Understand that I, Prince Modibbo, do not chase women; they chase me. Go ahead and keep throwing your tantrums just because you saw me with someone else." He walked away, adding, "It's class time now, I don't have time for chatter."
She stood there furious, tears streaming down her face, wondering when she would ever stop crying because of the Prince. The boy she loved so deeply, the boy women fought over, the boy who played hard to get, the beautiful and charismatic boy. She collapsed and began to weep.
Before you look at yourself, they have already looked at you, Vicky.
That is Prince Al-Amin. He is the son of King Ismail and the grandson of Abdullahi, the ruler of a territory in Bauchi. A young 22-year-old man popularly known as YARIMA MODIBBO. In Malaysia, where he is studying, they call him "Prince."
Meanwhile, in Zaria...
It was a large mud house with nearly twelve sections—an old-fashioned, traditional mud structure. Everyone in the house belonged to the same extended family, except for Fatima, a native of Bauchi, whom marriage had brought into the household. Right now, Fatima was sitting down turning tuwon dawa (guinea corn swallow). Bilkisu entered and greeted her, wearing a Java wax print fabric and carrying a bag; you could tell she was just returning from school. Bilkisu was exceptionally beautiful, a magazine-worthy beauty. If there were a beauty pageant and she entered, nothing could stop her from winning. She was about 22 years old. She approached her mother, Fatima, saying:
"Mama, welcome to the house."
Fatima looked at her affectionately, and despite her being the eldest daughter, she said, "Welcome, Maigado." (That was her nickname, meaning "Heir to the Golden Throne"—the praise epithet for the name Bilkisu). "You came back early today."
Bilkisu replied, "Yes, Mama. We went to visit a friend, otherwise I would have been back sooner."
"Oh, bless her. Is she sick?"
"It's malaria. They live in Sabon Gari."
"May Allah grant her health," her mother prayed.
"Ameen," Bilkisu replied.
She then went into her mother’s room. Despite her fatigue, she swept and arranged the room until it was spotless. Then she came out and swept the compound; even though it wasn't cemented, it looked beautiful when clean.
Asma'u, the youngest daughter, entered with a greeting, returning from Islamic school. "Welcome, Mama. Welcome, Aunty Maigado." Bilkisu glared at her. Realizing her mistake quickly, Asma'u said, "I forgot, I'm sorry," with a little laugh. Bilkisu said, "I don't want you calling me 'Aunty', just call me Bilkisu because I hate the name Maigado. The next time you say it, I'll smash your mouth." Mama chimed in, "Well, she'll get used to it slowly. As for us, there’s nothing we can do about the name."
Part 3: What is Happening?
Mama looked at Asma'u. "Auta (youngest), go fetch the food bowls of the people in this house so I can dished out this tuwo." There were three rooms belonging to them, out of the four in the section of their father, Malam Mamman. He had four wives and twenty-eight children. Therefore, the bowls Asma'u spread before Mama looked like food meant for an entire street. Most of the bowls were rusty and dented. Mama continued dishing out the tuwo into each bowl.
Bilkisu emerged from the room saying, "Mama, let me fetch water. When you're done, I'll set it on the fire; I want to take a bath."
Mama joked, "Even a frog knows you exist because of how much you bathe." Bilkisu laughed, took a bucket, and went toward the well.
About four small children were playing in the mud by the well—three boys and one girl. The girl, named Safiya, was sitting right in the middle of the mud they had mixed. Her clothes and face were filthy; her hair was half-unbraided and half-plaited. Bilkisu clicked her tongue in annoyance and told them, "Hey, get away from here, you dirty children."
Bala, the oldest among them, looked at her. "What is it to you? Why should you tell us to leave?"
She reached out and gave him a light smack, just as their father, Malam Mamman, walked in. He barked, "You, you, you! Don't you dare hit him again! Don't rub your bad luck onto my male child!"
She froze. "What did he do to you? Is it malice and wickedness that makes you want to cripple my male child, especially since your own mother can't give birth to boys?" He hissed. "Come, Bala, Idi, let's go inside. She might throw you into this well out of pure wickedness. May Allah protect us."
Tears streamed down Bilkisu's face. She was deeply baffled by the hatred almost all of her father's relatives showed her. She fetched the water and returned. Seeing Mama's face, she knew her mother had overheard everything the father said. Mama told her, "Be patient, Maigado. One day, this will all be history."
At night, Bilkisu lay on her bed. Beside her, Asma'u was fast asleep, snoring. Bilkisu, however, was deep in thought about her complicated life. She constantly asked herself: What is happening to me? She was undeniably beautiful, and she knew she was intelligent and sensible because people said so. She possessed both Western and Islamic education. She was well-behaved and reserved. Yet, why couldn't she attract men? Why didn't she have a boyfriend? Why had no one ever asked her out? She burst into tears, which had become a nightly routine.
Aloud, she muttered, "What is happening to me? Who will give me answers? Or did God not destine me to be among those who get married? Allah, You alone know best..." She raised her hands. "O Allah, my Lord, You are the Creator and the Guardian of my affairs. You know my condition better than I do. Allah, choose what is best for me." She laid her head back down and began to reminisce about who she truly was.
The Background of "Gidan Marina"
Gidan Marina (The Dye-Pit House) was the name of our house in our neighborhood, Ojo [Zaria], because dyeing fabrics was the trade our family inherited from their ancestors, and our brothers still practice it to this day. Our house was a massive compound containing over ten sections. The original patriarch was Malam Salisu, our grandfather. He had four wives and thirty-seven children—fifteen boys and the rest girls. Our father was one of the children of Goggo Amarya (the youngest wife); he was her third child, following two girls. Our grandfather, Malam Salisu the cloth-dyer, was a good and responsible man, but he passed away long ago, before I was even born. The senior wife, Maman Lantana, had also passed away, leaving three wives.
Since Malam Salisu’s death, the household collapsed into poverty, and disputes and crises became frequent. In our house, marrying outsiders was rare. Usually, a son from one section married a daughter from another section, and they would set up their own sub-section. Or they would marry a relative from another neighborhood. This pattern continued down to our father. One day, they attended a friend's wedding where a bride was brought from Bauchi. Among the bride's friends, our father spotted Fatima, a native of Bauchi. He fell head over heels—you know how Zaria men get around women.
He began traveling back and forth between Bauchi and Zaria. Fati agreed to marry him because she loved him too. However, the family did not support it because he was already betrothed to Hatun Ladiyo, the daughter of his father's younger brother, Baba Isa from Jushi. Consequently, the whole house refused to agree to the marriage, including his own mother, Goggo Amarya.
Part 4: What is Happening?
It was only his maternal aunt (Goggonsa) who intervened, saying, "Be patient, you never know where destiny lies." She made her own children lead the marriage proposal process. After much back-and-forth, the dowry was paid, and the wedding took place. He built his own section—a mud room and a parlor, just like the other family members. Fatima was brought to her room. Their life initially wasn't too bad, though she wasn't happy with anyone in the house except for that maternal aunt.
After a few months, life changed. Once the wedding gifts and provisions ran out, problems flooded their marriage. First, he stopped buying her basic necessities like soap and body cream. Later, he stopped providing the yearly clothing he used to buy. Eventually, food provision dwindled to just raw corn, millet, or yam; as for the soup ingredients (cefane), she had to figure that out herself.
Amidst this, the relatives began whispering that she had been married for two years without a child, so he needed to take another wife. And that is exactly what happened. Ladiyo was waiting for him, and wedding preparations began. Fatima could only watch as a new chapter of humiliation opened up between her, the husband's family, and the husband himself. Her only relief was that the maternal aunt made kuli-kuli (peanut cake), so she would help her grind and fry the peanuts, and the aunt would pay her. Through this, she made enough to take care of her basic needs.
Ladiyo entered the house with immense arrogance and pride. Within two months, Ladiyo became pregnant. The husband's family began targeting Fatima openly. They even forbade their children from running errands for her, telling her to leave their children alone and give birth to her own if she wanted errands run. She had to resort to going to neighbors' houses to ask their children for help.
Yet, none of this broke her heart as much as Ladiyo’s new antics. Ladiyo claimed she couldn't stand the smell of frying kuli-kuli and that looking at the peanut residue made her vomit. This meant Fatima had to stop the tiny business that kept her afloat.
Ladiyo’s true intention was to strip Fatima of her livelihood. The husband declared he never wanted to see kuli-kuli or peanut residue in the house again. Fatima challenged him: "But you know this business is what I rely on, right?"
He instantly lost his temper. "So, you're claiming you feed yourself?"
She replied, "What’s the difference between a threat and a fight? When you bring grain or yams, that's it. No money for soup ingredients, grinding, firewood, soap, or body cream. Everything is funded by my own body's labor."
He said, "Whatever the case, stop making kuli-kuli here."
She countered, "Honestly, that's impossible. Am I supposed to rely on relatives' charity forever?"
He scoffed, "Are you the first? Women have always funded their own cooking ingredients. Change your trade."
She said, "But you provide for Ladiyo. It’s not that you don't have it; you just deny me. Therefore, I will continue making my kuli-kuli. If you don't want me to, then provide everything for me."
He stormed out, saying, "Go ahead, do it and see what happens."
The next day, she brought in her supplies and started working. Ladiyo came out and taunted her, "So you're making kuli-kuli just because you know I hate the smell? Do you want my pregnancy to miscarry since you can't get pregnant yourself?" Fatima didn't reply and kept working. The manipulative Ladiyo waited until the husband walked in, then ran into her room, threw herself onto the bed, thrashing around and pretending to gag and vomit. The husband arrived and unleashed fury on Fatima, even attempting to beat her, forcing her to retreat to her room.
The next day, Fatima decided she had had enough and was going back to her hometown. She had a family to return to, and patience did not mean foolishness. The abuse from her husband one day, and the relatives the next, was unbearable. Her mother-in-law even marched into their section and insulted her thoroughly. While packing her bags, she heard Goggo Amarya's voice:
"Where are you, Queen Arrogant? Just because you were told to stop making kuli-kuli for the sake of a pregnant woman, you want to leave? Your own womb carries nothing but feces, unable to hold a child! And the person giving you the work is only doing it out of hypocrisy; she could have given the work to any other section, but out of malice, she preferred you. That's why her business flopped—she touched a person with bad luck!"
Fatima remained silent, acting as though she weren't there. Once Goggo finished her tirade and left, Fatima took her bags and stepped out. The husband’s older brothers, Sani and Rabi'u, stopped her. "Where are you going?"
"I am leaving," she said.
They said, "If it's a marital dispute, please be patient."
She replied that she was exhausted and preferred to go back to her hometown.
She arrived in Bauchi right before Maghrib prayer. When she entered her family home, her mother was making ablution and asked, "Is everything alright?" Fatima smiled and said everything was fine. After prayers and dinner, she explained the whole situation to her mother (Umma). Umma said, "Let's wait for your father (Malam) to come home."
Her parents were respectful and wise people who loved Fatima dearly because she was their only daughter among two sons, Aminu and Abubakar. Her brothers ran businesses in the main Bauchi market, were well-to-off, and took excellent care of their parents and Fatima.
The father and brothers discussed the issue and decided that when the husband came to beg for her return, they would warn him sternly before letting her go back. Fatima secretly wished for a divorce, but her father insisted they would not destroy her marriage and told her to keep enduring. She stayed for a week before the husband arrived, dragged there by pressure from his own relatives and neighbors. He agreed to come and plead for her return alongside his brothers.
They cautioned him severely. Her brothers provided her with capital and clothes, telling her to buy a refrigerator to sell cold water and ice. She returned to her room, continued her small businesses with patience, and bought the fridge, which brought her good profit. Meanwhile, Ladiyo gave birth, and the family celebrated excessively. Fatima kept her peace since her business was thriving.
A month later, the husband built another room. As soon as it was finished, he married Karima, a divorcee from the Kaura quarters. After the wedding, Karima also had to fund her own cooking ingredients; she took up doing laundry for a living. A year after her son Sunusi turned one, she became pregnant again. Thus, a childbirth competition began between Ladiyo and Karima. Fatima could only watch as they kept giving birth to boys.
Part 5: What is Happening?
As if it were a joke, the husband built yet another room to complete his quota of four wives. This time, he married a young, disrespectful girl from Turunku village. The three co-wives formed an alliance against Fatima, mocking her with innuendos that they were fertile while she was barren. By the grace of God, Fatima woke up one day to find herself pregnant. Time passed, and she went into labor. She handled everything herself; she bought all the baby clothes because when she asked him for money, he claimed he had never bought baby clothes for any child and wasn't going to start with her. The other co-wives mocked her, saying it was nothing new.
By Allah's grace, she gave birth to a daughter alone at night. The husband was sleeping in the bride's room. Fatima cut the umbilical cord herself using a new razor blade, drawing on advice she had previously sought from the maternal aunt on how to cut a cord in case she went into labor at night without help. She wrapped her baby in a cloth, rested, and then got up to clean up the blood.
By dawn, Allah granted her physical strength. She went out to boil water and bathed her exceptionally beautiful baby. Sunusi, the husband's eldest son (Ladiyo's child), peeked in and said, "Goggo Salame [the bride] said you should give her the porridge bowl."
Fatima asked, "Where is your father?"
"He's in her room."
"Go bring your bowls, and tell your father I have given birth."
The boy left excitedly—you know how children get excited over a new baby. The husband walked in cold and unfeeling. He picked up the baby, looked at her without offering a single prayer/blessing, and put her back down.
Fatima requested, "Please, can you buy some baby supplies for her?"
He glared at her. "Look at me, Fatima. You aren't the first person to bear me a child, so don't start your dramatic demands. If you want porridge, drink it; all the others drank porridge too."
She asked, "Who will go to Bauchi to inform my family?"
"That's your business," he replied. "I have no money. For this childbirth, I'll see if I can get you some corn for porridge, but don't expect any miracles from me because I am broke."
She looked at him with bitter regret for marrying him. She said, "You favor all your other wives over me. I see you buying tea provisions for them, slaughtering rams for their naming ceremonies, and even buying them ceremonial clothes. I don't know if they are more obedient to you than I am." He hissed and stormed out. She eventually found a young boy, a grandson of the maternal aunt, gave him directions, and sent him to Bauchi to inform her parents.
The next day, Umma’s younger sister arrived with the messenger to nurse her. Inna Hausi realized just how patient Fatima was, as everything had to be bought out of pocket because food in the house was strictly rationed. Inna Hausi and Fatima bought their own soup ingredients. They managed this way until the day before the naming ceremony when the Bauchi relatives arrived. The husband provided only raw corn—not even salt. Fatima funded the entire event. Her family showered her with gifts and money. The baby was named Bilkisu Mai Gado (Heir to the Golden Throne). Everyone marveled at Bilkisu's beauty. Her father didn't slaughter so much as a chicken, let alone a ram, but Fatima left it all to God.
Bilkisu grew up beautiful and charming, but only to her mother; her father never played with her or picked her up. Later, Fatima gave birth to Sakina, then Maryam (named after Umma, hence nicknamed Momy), and finally Asma'u. While nursing Asma'u, things became overwhelming. The husband provided nothing for the children, and the food was terrible. To survive, you had to fund your own household. The other wives withdrew their children from school because they couldn't afford books or exam fees, forcing them into street hawking (talla).
Fatima refused to let her children hawk. She visited her close friend, Hajara, for advice. "Hajara, look at the life we live in that house. No good food, just a childbirth competition. I can't do it anymore. I want you to talk to your husband to help me get a birth control charm or medicine so I can stop having children and focus on raising the ones I have—especially since I only have daughters." Hajara agreed. The birth control worked, and Fatima was able to enroll Bilkisu in primary school.
Part 6: What is Happening?
Fatima engaged in multiple petty businesses—selling soap, detergent, palm oil, groundnut oil, and henna. It was a life of grueling hard work, but she raised her children well.
During one Eid (Sallah) celebration, she traveled with her children to Bauchi. Bilkisu was five years old at the time, a beautiful and lovable child. Her uncle Aminu took her to watch the royal Sallah horse procession (Hawan Sallah). Bilkisu was captivated. No one fascinated her more than a young prince, also about five years old—her exact age mate. He wore a royal turban and a cloak (alkyabba), surrounded by a massive entourage. The boy was waving at the crowd, and Bilkisu waved back, saying "bye-bye." From that day on, she couldn't stop talking about the Prince. Her uncle told her his name was Yarima. Even after returning to Zaria, she kept talking about him and began having recurring dreams about playing with him. Eventually, Mama got tired of it and banned her from mentioning him, so Bilkisu kept it to herself.
Back in the Zaria compound, the co-wives constantly mocked Fatima for refusing to send her daughters out to hawk goods. They jeered, "When it's time to marry them off, let's see what bridal gifts (kaya daki) she will put in their rooms!" Fatima ignored them; her sole focus was her children's education and upbringing.
Bilkisu grew up to be extremely patient, quiet, and deeply focused on her studies, unlike Sakina, who was feisty and fiercely resisted disrespect (making her hate the co-wives intensely). Maryam was quiet but moody, while Asma'u was sassy from childhood. Whenever the older step-siblings beat Bilkisu, she would just cry, but Asma'u would fight back fiercely.
One day, Salame walked into Karima's room. "Have you seen the Mother of Girls?"
"What did she do now?" Karima asked attentively.
"Today she bought them brand new slippers."
Ladiyo walked in and chimed in, "Look at the Mother of Girls! They will end up single under her nose. Buying them slippers indeed!"
Karima hissed. "She’s just bringing suffering upon herself. Girls are pointless; you raise them only for them to serve others, and even in their husband's house, you get no rest."
2. Story Summary
The narrative contrasts two drastically different socio-economic worlds within Northern Nigeria: the ultra-luxurious, entitled life of Prince Al-Amin (Modibbo) and the impoverished, abusive environment of Bilkisu.
- Modibbo's World: A wealthy, arrogant 22-year-old royal from Bauchi studying in Malaysia. He treats women, including his girlfriend Vicky, with cold detachment because he is used to being chased due to his status, wealth, and good looks.
- Bilkisu's World: A 22-year-old girl living in a dilapidated mud compound (Gidan Marina) in Zaria. She is trapped in a toxic, hyper-polygamous family structure where her father, Malam Mamman, has 4 wives and 28 children.
- The Flashback & Connection: The story reveals that Bilkisu's mother, Fatima, faced severe emotional and economic abuse from her husband and co-wives for only giving birth to daughters and refusing to force them into street hawking. Despite the poverty, Fatima used birth control to halt her pregnancies and funded her daughters' Western and Islamic education through petty trade.
The Looming Destiny: When Bilkisu was five years old, she saw a young five-year-old prince during an Eid festival in Bauchi. She became obsessed with him, dreaming about him for years. The narrative structurally implies that this boy was Modibbo, setting up a classic "rich prince, poor but educated girl" destiny archetype.
3. Character & Setting Descriptions
Characters
- Yarima Al-Amin (Modibbo / Prince): A 22-year-old prince from a ruling family in Bauchi, currently studying in Malaysia. He is vain, highly conscious of his wealth, treats women as disposable commodities, and values his time and studies above emotional relationships.
- Bilkisu (Maigado): A 22-year-old girl living in Zaria. She is exceptionally beautiful, quiet, patient, and highly educated in both Islamic and Western secular schooling. Despite her virtues, she suffers from a lack of suitors and systemic emotional abuse from her paternal family.
- Fatima (Mama / Mamanmu): Bilkisu’s mother. Originally a loved, well-provided-for daughter from a decent family in Bauchi, she endured decades of neglect, financial abandonment, and insults from her husband and co-wives in Zaria. She is resilient, industrious, and fiercely protective of her daughters' futures.
- Malam Mamman: Bilkisu's father. A traditional cloth-dyer who is financially irresponsible, deeply misogynistic, and practices unchecked polygamy (4 wives, 28 children). He favors his sons, openly despises Fatima for only having girls, and treats his daughters as financial burdens.
Ladiyo, Karima, and Salame: The co-wives of Malam Mamman. They represent the toxic element of polygamy in poverty, weaponizing their ability to give birth to male children to mock Fatima, while actively neglecting their own children's education in favor of child hawking.
Settings
- The Luxury Apartment (Malaysia): Characterized by modern convenience, an oversized state-of-the-art bathroom, warm running water, expensive foreign scents, and continuous international media (CNN). It reflects Modibbo's globalized, affluent reality.
- Gidan Marina (Zaria): A crowded, traditional 12-section mud compound defined by infrastructural decay (rusty bowls, dirt courtyard, an open well). It represents generational poverty, manual labor (cloth dyeing), and chaotic, dense domestic survival.
Bauchi (The Royal Procession vs. Fatima's Family Home): Serves as a place of refuge for Fatima and a site of cultural grandeur where the economic paths of the two main characters briefly crossed during childhood.
4. Literary Analytics
Themes
- The Toxic Dimensions of Unchecked Polygamy: The text acts as a critique of polygamy when stripped of financial accountability and Islamic guidelines of equity. Malam Mamman's household is chaotic, competitive, and abusive, where wives form factions to emotionally torment one another.
- Gender Bias and the Preference for Male Heirs: The story highlights the deep-seated patriarchy within traditional societies. Malam Mamman blatantly protects his sons while insulting his daughters as "bad luck," ignoring the fact that his educated daughters are orderly, while his sons are left uneducated and playing in the mud.
- Education vs. Child Exploitation (Hawking): A central conflict exists between Fatima's progressive vision (educating her daughters) and the co-wives' regressive views (sending children to hawk products to fund immediate domestic needs). The co-wives view girls strictly as temporary domestic labor before marriage.
Socio-Economic Disparity: The stark transition from Modibbo’s lavish bathing routine to Bilkisu’s struggle to fetch water from a mud-slick well highlights the extreme wealth gap within the same cultural geographic region (Northern Nigeria).
Narrative Techniques & Style
- Parallelism & Contrast: The author uses a split-narrative structure to introduce the hero and heroine. Modibbo's arrogance is contrasted against Bilkisu’s humility; his excessive wealth contrasts against her extreme economic lack.
- Foreshadowing: Bilkisu’s childhood obsession and recurring dreams about the 5-year-old prince firmly establish a destiny trope, signaling that their paths will inevitably cross in the future despite their vast class differences.
- Sociolinguistic Realism: The text uses realistic, localized Hausa colloquialisms (e.g., tsarki, kar2, bazazzagi, kaya daki, habaici) to ground the dialogue in authentic contemporary Hausa society.
