Mijin Tace Book 3 Complete by hafsat Sodangi

Description

• Gratitude

  All praise and gratitude belong to Allah, Subhanahu wa ta'ala (Glorified and Exalted be He), the Knower of today and tomorrow, the All-Wise Creator who created all things in pairs, male and female, and who created humans and jinn solely to worship Him.
  May peace and blessings be multiplied upon the Seal of the Prophets, the Leader of the Messengers, the Prophet of Mercy, the Final Prophet, Muhammad (S.A.W), and upon his household, his companions, and all those who follow his path of truth until the Final Day, the Day of Resurrection.
  Furthermore, I extend my heartfelt gratitude to the readers of my books, whose endless messages keep reaching me, constantly renewing my dedication to bringing them fresh stories. Thank you for your patience with me, and thank you for your continued interest in my writing. May the Almighty reward you with the best of rewards.
  Thank you.

Hafsat Chindo Sodangi
January 17, 2013

Dedication & Recognitions

Dedication

This dedication is, as always, to my beloved parents for their deep care, love, and the righteous upbringing they gave me:

• Alhaji Chindo Muhammad Sodangi

• Hajiya Fatima C. Sodangi
  May Allah grant you His supreme reward, Amen.

  Token of Appreciation

  This book is a special token for my older brother:

• Malam Lawal Chindo Sodangi (N.S.I.T.F. Abuja) and his new bride, Zuhuriyya Ibrahim Usman.
  May the Almighty grant you a peaceful, harmonious, and blissful marriage, Amen.

  Acknowledgments

• Babayo Yusuf Dabai

• Ahmad Bello Sodangi
  Thank you.

  Best Wishes To

• Hajiya Aisha Garba Mai Kwano
• Hajiya Lubabatu Illelah

• Hajiya Fatima Usman Muhammad (Nigerian Defence Academy, Kaduna)
  Thank you.

  Special Greetings

  A formal salute directly to you, Abba:

• Aliyu Chindo Sodangi and his new bride, Saliha Yusuf (Ardo).
  May the Almighty bless your home with peace and protect your honor, Amen, summary Amen.

  Always in My Heart

• Hajiya Maryam Dan Hassan (Mami)
• Hajiya Aisha Balarabe (Jazan)
• Hajiya Hafsat Mustapha
• Fatiman Hamza Isah (Batulu)
• Hajiya Mariya Saleh Tsafe

• Hajiya Fatima Abbas Salmanduna
  Thank you.

  Warm Sisterly Greetings To

• Hajiya Sameerah Gambo Dage-dage
  Thank you.

  With Love

• Asma'u Bello Nazir
  May Allah cause you to grow in faith and righteousness.

  Thinking of You

• Na'ima Nura Bashir Galadanci (A.K.T.H. Kano)
• Fatimah Yusuf Hashidu (Mrs. Hon. Jibrin)
• Sumayya Ibrahim
• Sumayya Baba Idris
• Fatima Ibrahim Zaria

• Alawiyya Ado (Unguwar Dorayi, Kano)
  Thank you.

  Not Forgotten

• Hajiya Atti Manzo, author of the book Sarauniyar Zuciya (Queen of the Heart).
  May Allah increase your creative talent and insight.

  Respectful Salutations

• Hajiya Bilkisu Ibrahim Na-Bature (Mrs. Salisu Ahmad Funtua)

• May Allah grant you continuous good health, Amen.

  Intent & Purpose

  I do not intend to use my writing to make coded insults (habaici) or mock anyone’s personal life; my writing is purely intended to deliver a vital social message. I sincerely beg anyone who feels personally targeted by this story to please find it in their heart to forgive me.

Thank you.

Published Works by the Author

• Uwar Miji (The Husband's Mother)
• Naga Ta Kaina (I've Seen Enough of My Own Troubles)
• Wayyo Duniya (Oh, This World!)
• Rabon Kwado... (The Toad's Share...)
• Cikar Alkawari (Fulfillment of the Promise)
• Tabbataccen Al'amari (A Certain Reality)
• Yi wa Wani... (Doing to Another...)
• Abu Naka... (What belongs to You...)
• Nufin Allah (The Will of Allah)
• Garin Banza... (A Worthless Town...)
• Gani Gare Ka (It is Up to You)
• Me Za Mu Ce Da Maza? (What Shall We Say to Men?)
• Biyan Bukatar Rai (Satisfying the Desires of the Soul)
• Kifi Na Ganinka... (The Fish Sees You...)
• Da Kamar Wuya... (It Appears Difficult...)
• Daga Kin Gaskiya... (From Rejecting the Truth...)
• Shamaki (The Stable / Barrier)
• Mai Uwa... (One Who Has a Mother...)
• Hattara (Be Warned)
• Mata Da Kicin Dinsu (Women and Their Kitchens)
• Mata Masu Duniya (Women Who Own the World)
• Duk Daya (All the Same)
• Kyautata (Doing Good)
• Ayi Dai Mu Gani... (Let's Do It and See...)
• Wacece Ni? (Who Am I?)
• Wata Fuskar... (Another Face of...)

• Mijin-Tace (Her Henpecked Husband)

  Chapter 3: The Narrative Continues

  Deep down, my mind was fully made up: I would absolutely not follow Ado. I realized that the best and most sensible choice for me was to choose my mother and my maternal relatives. There was simply no way I could pack up and abandon my beloved Inna, leaving her trapped in deep heartbreak, bitter sorrow, overwhelming anxiety, and an indescribable sense of loneliness.
  Everyone in our neighborhood knew my mother, and everyone knew that she loved nothing in this world more than me. Ado himself had openly admitted to me that it was precisely because of her intense, overwhelming love for me that she had been so quick to forgive all his past cruelties before our wedding day.
  In fact, she had immediately embraced him as her own son again. She treated him with the utmost kindness and respect, even commanding me to be a devoted, dutiful wife and treat him with excellence.
  If he truly understood this fact, then he should have known better than to decree that I must abandon her to live in the village—unless, of course, this cruel exile was part of a pre-planned agenda orchestrated between him and Mama. After all, it was Mama who had intentionally handpicked him, demanding that I be handed over to him as a weapon of spite.
  Because of this, I didn’t trust either of them for a single second. I resolved that I would never follow him; instead, I would choose to stay behind in my family home, let him embark on his journey alone, and wash my hands of both him and Mama’s toxic drama. I refused to let a brief, three-month courtship built on illusions and sweet words detach me from Inna. I would not leave her in misery and grief, especially when I knew her love for me was the only true, pure, and unconditional love I would ever experience. Her love had no hidden motives or manipulation; she loved me simply for who I was, not because she saw me as something to exploit.
  But what about Ado? Even if his current profession of love were genuine, he only started loving me the exact moment my usefulness to him became clear. He began "loving" me precisely when he was advised to accept my hand in marriage. Since moving into his house, I hadn't seen a single sign of the raw hatred or hostility he used to project.
  From the very beginning of our marriage, he had been trying desperately to win me over, strictly to secure his own domestic peace and a smooth relationship with me. Before this, there was never any tenderness between us. Knowing this, I could see right through him: he had caught a glimpse of some luxurious comfort or benefit down the line, and realized that if he misplayed his hand, he would lose it entirely.
  He also knew that he could never get what he wanted through brute force or intimidation. When it came to stubbornness and raw strength, we were evenly matched—he knew me, and I knew him inside out. That was why he had dropped his weapons so quickly, pivoting to a strategy of gentle persuasion and flattery, targeting not just me, but my mother and my entire maternal family.
  And if I were to tell myself that Ado had genuinely changed his worldview, or that he had willfully stopped helping his sister (Mama) wage her toxic co-wife war by abusing us just to heap more sorrow onto my mother... wouldn't that be incredibly foolish of me? I knew all too well that plenty of men would jump at the chance to have me. I had never considered myself among the ultra-beautiful women whose looks were flawless, especially when comparing myself to my gorgeous maternal sisters, Aliya and Atika, who were incredibly fair-skinned with long, flowing hair because they took after Inna.
  I remember since I was a little girl, Inna would constantly reassure me, saying, "They don't outshine you in anything. Dark skin is beautiful. Your father is a very handsome man, after all." I never truly believed her words until I matured into a full-grown young woman. I saw myself standing tall, straight, and elegant, never needing high heels because my natural height was already striking.
  I only wore heels occasionally for fun. I had beautiful, piercing eyes with bright whites, thick defined eyebrows, and long lashes. I wasn't skin and bones either; I had a full, developed chest and a flat, trim stomach that naturally accentuated my curves. My hair wasn't exceptionally long, but it was incredibly thick and soft.
  Furthermore, my dark skin was flawless and glowing because Inna refused to let me use generic lotions without sitting down to mix a custom, nourishing blend of traditional oils for me. It wasn't to change my rich complexion, but to make it incredibly smooth, supple, and radiant.
  Add to that my obsession with personal hygiene and always smelling like fresh perfume, and it became obvious to me that these physical traits were the real reason Ado had been drawn in. They were the reasons he lost his resolve to continue acting as Mama’s foot soldier in her domestic war. He realized that if he kept playing that malicious game, he would lose me forever—so he decided it was better to cling to his marriage, regardless of whatever storm Mama unleashed next.
  If that was the reality, then his love was strictly conditional, driven by desire. It was nothing like Inna’s love, which was completely blind, unconditional, and absolute. She loved me fiercely regardless of my circumstances, and she would never stop. Therefore, there was no universe in which I would abandon her to follow Ado.
  Choosing to stay behind wasn't a crime; he could easily find another woman out there. Besides, he would be returning to his own biological relatives. More importantly, I was currently pregnant with his child. Whether I gave birth to a son or a daughter, he would eventually come to claim them—and to a man like him, that was a massive, effortless victory.
  He was also leaving with an education fully funded by my father’s wealth. Even if my father demanded back every single material asset currently in Ado's possession, he could never strip away the degree Ado had earned. He would keep that knowledge forever, while my father’s own biological sons had been prevented from getting an education due to their own foolishness and laziness.
  So no, I would not follow him. If only to make him taste the bitter agony of losing me right after he finally learned to love me, I would stay behind. He didn't love me when it mattered most; he only chose to love me after helping his sister torment, humiliate, and terrorize Inna and her children.
  He loved me only after I had survived years of systematic abuse at Mama's hands, including the brutal beatings she used to inflict on me while he stood by and did nothing. I didn't need his love now. Furthermore, I knew for a fact that even if I stayed behind, his relationship with Mama would never return to the absolute, blind obedience of the past. He had fallen so deeply and helplessly in love with me that it had given him the courage to stand up and confront Mama face-to-face. So, if only to make both of them stew in mutual bitterness and regret, I would refuse to go.

  The Courtyard Confrontation

  As I swam through these deep thoughts, Mama’s sharp, piercing voice shattered my internal monologue, pulling my focus back to the explosive drama unfolding right in the middle of our courtyard.
  I looked up, my eyes locking onto Ado because of the venomous words Mama was hurling at him.
  He was crouched low on the floor—a tense, defensive posture that made it look like he was a fraction of a second away from bolting out the gate. His Adam's apple was bobbing up and down wildly in his throat from sheer anxiety, while his eyes remained glued to me, completely frozen without even blinking.
  "You might as well just give up on her right now, let go of any hope, and clear your mind!" Mama shouted at him. "It will be much better for your own peace of mind, because she is absolutely not following you to any village. Her mother will never allow you to pack her up and cart her off to the countryside!
  They have simply defrauded you! They used their dark charms, rituals, and sorcery to manipulate your mind, casting a spell of madness over you! They only did it because they knew you had never known a woman before their daughter, so they used that to scramble your brain. But let me tell you, she isn't the only woman on earth. Don't look at her as if she's irreplaceable; there are thousands of women exactly like her out there, and many who are far better looking!"
  Baba Yahaya glared at Mama, his face tight with profound embarrassment and disgust at her vile language. He snapped, "What kind of demonic words are these? How can you stand in front of a crowd and vomit such shameless, disrespectful nonsense without a shred of decency?"
  Mama shot back instantly, "Oh, shut up and let me tell him the plain truth! If his heart bursts from grief over her and he drops dead right now, it’s his own ultimate loss! His own mother is long dead anyway, and he has already shown me his true colors by throwing dirt in my face. He has humiliated and degraded me in front of my bitterest enemies, giving them a front-row seat to laugh at me! There is absolutely nothing left between me and him now that he has allowed himself to be led like a foolish sheep into deep water.
  To think that you actually have the audacity to return all the material assets I placed in your hands, all for the sake of this rebellious, cursed girl! This sinister, wicked girl who just the other day was mocking your rural background to your face! She was bragging about how she thanks God that her father's house is a house of abundance, claiming that anyone who enters it eats to their fill, gets rich, polishes themselves up, gets fine clothes, and sheds their primitive village backwardness! She openly mocked you, saying that unless someone already knew your origin, no one looking at you today would ever guess what primitive bush you crawled out of! She even boasted that she doesn't need to leave her father's house to experience the world. Wasn't it Humaira who hurled those exact insults at you?"
  Mama fixed her eyes on him, waiting for confirmation. Knowing that those words had indeed come out of my mouth, I matched her glare, locking my eyes onto hers without flinching.
  Pure, unadulterated hatred burned in Mama's eyes. It was clear that any trace of affection or pity she once held for Ado had evaporated into thin air. What had he done to deserve this? Simply because she ordered him to divorce me, and he had the nerve to say no?
  If that was all it took for Mama to despise him, did she ever truly care for him in the first place? Or did she only value people based on how effectively she could use them as tools?
  Mama sneered back at him, "You didn't humiliate me, Ado—you ruined and impoverished yourself just to impress her! And after everything, did she choose you? No! You chose her over me, but she will never choose you over her own mother! Isn't that right, Humaira?"
  She whipped her head around, facing me directly. "Are you really going to be foolish enough to choose an unstable, unpredictable man over the parents who raised you, especially when you know your father and I completely forbid this journey? Ado is a primitive villager, and everyone knows the miserable life his family lives in the countryside. Over there, you will be forced to manually thrash grains, winnow crops, and grind flour on a stone slab before you can see a single plate of food! Ado's family house is a sprawling, chaotic mess that doesn't even have a proper shape!
  They haven't even found the wealth to build a decent concrete wall around their compound! They are packed in there in disgusting numbers, and to top off the injustice, every single person in that massive household eats out of one single giant pot, cooked by a single woman! Am I lying, Ado?"
  She stared him down. Ado slowly and calmly shook his head, refusing to argue, signaling that she was telling the truth about his background. Mama nodded triumphantly, turning back to me with a smug smirk. "You see? Even he admits I'm not lying!"

  The Verdict

  The neighborhood elder, Malam Harisu, who had been trying desperately to make Mama hold her tongue, finally realized she would never stop. He ignored her completely, turning his full attention toward me to settle the matter once and for all.
  "Listen, Hajiya," Malam Harisu said, addressing me with a formal tone. "Let the girl speak and make her own choice so we can know exactly where we stand." He turned to face me squarely. "Now, Aisha, what is your final decision? Are you going to follow your husband, or are you staying behind?"
  I raised my eyes calmly, looking at Malam Harisu, our respected neighbor who had put the question to me. I looked past him, took a deep breath, and said clearly: "I am going with my husband, Baba."
  The moment the words left my lips, the room erupted. Ado and the Imam instantly burst into loud shouts of "Allahu Akbar!" (God is Great), followed by intense, relieved prayers of thanksgiving (Hamdala).
  Mama, however, let out a blood-curdling, ear-piercing shriek with the last ounce of her strength, sounding like someone possessed by a demon. She began thrashing around, screaming, "I am ruined! Oh God, let death take me right now so I can leave this world! Wayyo! They have stolen my brother from me! They have driven a wedge between us and torn him away! If only I had listened to the warnings this wretched girl gave me before!"
  Baba Yahaya snapped at her, "Shut your mouth, Kaltume! If you hadn't spent your entire life nursing malicious plots and executing evil schemes, you wouldn't be reaping this bitter harvest today! Look at yourself—this is the exact evil you have been sowing coming back to crush you!"
  My father instantly lunged forward in a towering, blinding fury, shouting down Baba Yahaya: "No! Hold on, Alhaji! Don't you dare invoke curses or evil words upon Mama! If anyone is a cursed, rebellious wretch here, it is this ungrateful daughter! Look at who she chose over her own blood! Didn't she humiliate and disrespect me for his sake? Didn't I command her to reject him, and she willfully defied me?
  Fine! If she follows him and they leave this house, she is gone forever! She must never, under any circumstances, set foot inside my house ever again! And if I see fit, I will slap a binding parental curse (baki) on her that will shatter her life completely and leave her wandering the streets in ruin, so everyone can finally have peace! She is completely useless to me, especially since she has reduced Mama to this kind of agonizing heartbreak!"
  Hearing my own biological father threaten to destroy my life with a parental curse sent a wave of absolute terror crashing through me. I broke down into hysterical, violent sobbing, throwing myself onto the floor, rolling around and kicking my legs in sheer panic. My father was going to curse me! Where would I go? What would become of me?
  My mind spun out of control. I felt trapped in a living nightmare, desperately wishing I could pull someone aside, grab them by the collar, and whisper the terrifying truth: I didn't mean it! I only said I would follow Ado to break Mama's heart and crush her pride! I never actually intended to leave! But the chaos in the courtyard was too deafening; there was no one I could face who would listen to my explanations.

  The Forced Departure

  The entire compound descended into absolute bedlam. The tension reached a dangerous boiling point. A crowd of men had to physically restrain Baba Yahaya and my father from coming to blows. My father had completely lost his mind, joining Mama in screaming horrific profanities against my mother, Inna, her family, and her entire lineage, branding them as hypocrites who specialize in tearing families apart. Baba Yahaya was fiercely firing back, defending Inna’s honor with equal rage.
  Finally, pushed to his absolute limit by my father's disgusting behavior, Baba Yahaya roared, "Fine! I wash my hands of this! I revoke everything since it has come to this—"
  My stomach violently churned with a loud, sickening kulu-lulu sound, completely freezing the blood in my veins. I was terrified that the next words out of Baba Yahaya's mouth would be a declaration that he was abandoning us entirely.
  But he stopped short, shifted his stance, and barked at my father: "I change my mind! She is not staying a single second in this house! Her choice is a foolish, worthless choice, but I will not allow you to break her marriage just to satisfy the whims of your toxic wife! If you want to see a house full of divorced women (zaurawa), look no further than the ones your wife has already produced for you!"
  Mama unleashed another shattering scream, howling that Baba Yahaya was mocking her divorced daughters. But he completely ignored her, and before my father could react, Baba Yahaya lunged forward, grabbed my hand with a vice-like grip, and violently dragged me across the courtyard to the wall where Ado was cowering.
  "You! Do you still want to take your wife with you today?" Baba Yahaya barked.
  Ado nodded frantically, stammering, "Yes, yes!" The moment the words left Ado's mouth, Baba Yahaya thrust my hand violently into Ado's grasp, declaring: "Here she is, Ado! I hand her over to you. Take her and leave right now! Keep her safe as a sacred trust (amana). Know that we only tolerate her own biological parents out of sheer patience, let alone a young, innocent girl like her!"
  Ado clamped both of his hands around mine, squeezing with every ounce of strength he possessed, as if terrified that someone would materialize out of thin air and tear me away from him.
  "Move! Get out of here and start moving!" Baba Yahaya ordered us in a commanding voice.
  Behind us, my father was still screaming a barrage of bitter, unhinged declarations, while Malam Harisu and the others desperately tried to calm him down. I turned back, my eyes streaming with tears, and locked eyes with Baba Yahaya. I cried out, "No, Baba! Please, I won't follow him! I won't go! I wasn't being serious, I swear I didn't mean it—"

FLASH!
A terrifying, earth-shattering slap struck me dead across the face. The raw force of Baba Yahaya's hand was so explosive that for a second, a blinding flash of lightning seemed to explode behind my eyes. My vision went completely white.
Ado immediately wrapped his arms around me, shielding my body with his own, pulling me tightly against his chest while frantically begging Baba Yahaya: "Please Baba, have mercy! Forgive her, Baba, please!" He adjusted his stance, pulling me completely behind his frame to ensure that if Baba Yahaya swung his hand again, the blow would land on him instead.
That devastating slap instantly silenced everything inside me. It cut through my hysterical crying, freezing the tears in my tracks. I could only stand there, my eyes wide and vacant, staring blankly in sheer shock. I had never experienced physical pain that agonizing in my entire life.
Ado kept his body tightly pressed against mine, guiding me forward as he ushered me out of the house. As we crossed the threshold, I could still hear Baba Yahaya’s booming voice echoing behind us through the corridors: "Even if she suffocates from grief or kicks her legs until she dies, she is leaving with him today! He will not choose her over his own life, give up his entire livelihood, and defy everything just for you and your pathetic husband to deny him his legal wife! He loves her, and she chose him! You twisted this marriage into an act of malice to destroy her and force him to abuse her—but to your absolute shock, the eighty-seven short days he spent living under the same roof with her were enough to make him choose her over you, your husband, and every material asset you think you possess!"

The Journey Begins

At the front gates, Ado quickly led me toward a waiting vehicle—a car he had chartered for our long-distance journey. The Imam and Malam Harisu emerged from the house shortly after us, followed by Baba Yahaya. Malam Harisu and the Imam bade us farewell and walked down the street, while Baba Yahaya stood by, thanking them deeply for their intervention.
Then, Baba Yahaya walked over to the side of the car. He plunged both of his hands deep into his pockets, pulled out every single note of cash he had on him, and thrust the entire stack into Ado's hands. He said softly, "Take this and find a way to manage your journey. You weren't given any time to properly prepare for this sudden departure."
Ado extended both hands, accepting the money with profound respect and humility. "Thank you so much, Baba. May the Almighty increase you in honor and stature."
Baba Yahaya remained standing at the edge of our street, his figure solid and unmoving, watching our car until it finally turned the corner and vanished from the neighborhood.
The moment our vehicle cleared the inner-city traffic jams and accelerated onto the wide, open highway leading toward Kano, a massive, trembling sigh of relief escaped Ado's lips. The sheer intensity of his sigh made it obvious that he had been paralyzed with fear the entire time—terrified that my family would chase us down, block the highway, or violently rip me away from him.
He sat in a deep, heavy silence for a very long time, his mind completely turning inward. Finally, I watched him raise both hands to his face and recite the Fatiha, concluding his intense silent prayers.
Once he finished wiping his hands across his face, he turned his full attention to me. Reaching out with both arms, he gently but firmly pulled my body across the seat, drawing me flat against his chest. He wrapped a strong, unyielding arm around my torso, holding me down tightly against his heartbeat, forcing me to rest entirely against him.
He began speaking into my hair, his voice incredibly calm, steady, and soothing.
"Have you ever seen an innocent person choose the path of marriage and end up humiliated? Listen to me carefully, Aisha. There are three paths in this life that the Almighty Lord will never allow to end in ruin or degradation. In fact, He has bound Himself to an absolute divine promise to aid anyone who walks them. The first is the person who enters marriage to protect their chastity; the second is the warrior who stands up for Jihad; and the third is the indentured slave working honestly to purchase their freedom. Because we are on the first path, nothing but goodness, blessings, and honor will ever find you on this journey."
What followed was a brutal, grueling journey across the country—a journey so physically punishing and exhausting that I cannot even bring myself to recount its details. The distance was endless, and the physical toll was merciless. Both Ado and I were pushed to our absolute limits of exhaustion.
The only difference was that Ado bore his suffering with an undercurrent of profound joy, filled with the deep satisfaction of a man who had successfully fought for and won exactly what his heart desired; not a single shadow of regret or exhaustion showed on his face.
I, on the other hand, endured the entire journey drowning in a sea of toxic anxiety, bitter resentment, and an excruciatingly sharp abdominal pain that tore through my gut.
Ado spent hours trying every imaginable way to soothe me, whispering sweet words, reassurances, and gentle comforts into my ear until his voice grew raspy. Eventually, realizing I was entirely unreachable, he fell silent, settling into a quiet watchfulness, his eyes locked on my face. But I couldn't stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks.
Nothing pierced my soul deeper than the haunting reality that I had packed up and abandoned my mother. If I had known that my desperate gamble would turn out this way, I would have never uttered those words.
I had only chosen Ado as a strategic chess move to smash Mama's pride, intending to slip away into the crowds the moment the dust settled, refuse to board his vehicle, and return to my mother's side once Ado had left the town for good. Instead, my foolish arrogance had sparked a catastrophic chain reaction: it had triggered an absolute, irreversible rift between my father and his lifelong best friend, Baba Yahaya, unleashing a torrent of horrific, unforgivable insults from my father against my beloved mother, Inna, and her entire family.
I had committed an act of monumental, short-sighted foolishness. In my desperate bid to strike a psychological blow against Mama, I had completely forgotten that a mother's pain...

• Genre: Contemporary Northern Nigerian Fiction (Hausa Melodrama / Littattafan Na Gado style).
• Narrative Structure: First-person retrospective narration through Humaira (Aisha). Volume 3 serves as the climax of the domestic arc, shifting the setting from the urban family compound to an forced journey toward the rural countryside (and ultimately Kano).

• Thematic Focus: This text deals with the psychological complexities of polygamous rivalries (Kishi), the unintended consequences of manipulation, and the cultural absolute of parental authority (Iko). It highlights a dramatic shift in power dynamics: the weaponized tool (Ado) rebels against his handler (Mama) because of physical and romantic infatuation, shifting the entire balance of power in the household.

  Part 3: Analytical Breakdown

  1. The Paradox of Ado's Rebellion

  Volume 3 centers on an incredible irony: Ado, the ultimate weapon of systemic abuse, becomes the protector.
  Throughout the story, Ado was Mama’s biological brother/agent, brought into the house to torment Inna and Humaira. However, the text highlights a profound psychological shift: 87 days of cohabitation with Humaira completely rewired his loyalties.
  Humaira’s analytical breakdown of his "love" is deeply cynical yet accurate:

• It is driven by physical desire and infatuation ("the moment my usefulness to him became clear").
• Humaira contrasts her own striking physical attributes (her exceptional height, rich dark skin meticulously cared for by Inna, thick eyelashes, and full figure) against her fair-skinned sisters, realizing her beauty completely disarmed Ado's malice.

• Ado is willing to abandon his sister Mama, return the material wealth she gave him, and face social ruin just to keep Humaira. He uses religious justification—quoting Islamic traditions regarding Allah's promise to aid those who marry—to validate his obsession and rewrite his history of domestic abuse into a holy quest for a peaceful home.

  2. The Tragedy of Miscalculated Manipulation

  Humaira's internal monologue at the end of the chapter provides a powerful study of regret. She did not choose Ado out of love or duty; she chose him as a tactical weapon to humiliate Mama in public.

• The Backfire: Humaira assumed she could voice her choice to humiliate Mama, and then simply slip away before the car left. She completely underestimated the structural rigidity of patriarchy. Once her choice was made public, the male elders (Baba Yahaya and Malam Harisu) treated it as a binding, legally enforceable contract.

• Baba Yahaya's Slap: The brutal slap Baba Yahaya delivers to Humaira is an assertion of patriarchal order. He does not care about her internal schemes; he cares about settling a toxic, endless domestic war. By forcing her into the car, he effectively tells her that actions have irrevocable consequences.

  3. The Structural Breakdown of the Polygamous Family

  The courtyard scene exposes the complete collapse of the family structure:

• The Father's Total Dereliction: The father (Malam Surajo) completely abdicates his role as a fair patriarch. He aligns entirely with Mama, screaming profanities against his own daughter and threatening her with a parental curse (baki). This showcases the ultimate expression of being a "Henpecked Husband" (Mijin-Tace)—he is willing to spiritually destroy his biological child to soothe his senior wife’s bruised ego.
• The Material vs. The Spiritual: Humaira notes the final irony regarding education. Ado leaves with a university degree fully funded by the father's wealth, while the father's biological sons with Mama are left uneducated, lazy, and ruined by maternal spoiling. The wealth Mama fought so hard to monopolize has ultimately been exported out of her line by her own brother.