"Sir, he sent it, but for the sake of Almighty God, please do not let this servant of Allah be locked up. I swear to you, he wasn't in his right mind when this happened. I have already apologized to Rafeea, explaining that he didn't do it intentionally."
In an outburst of anger, Alhaji Kwangila snapped, "Don't try to play me for a fool, Dr. Fahad!" He raised his massive, filthy hand. "He slapped my daughter across her face, insulted her, and then extended those insults to me. And now you are asking me to just let him go? I swear by Allah, whoever his father is, he will learn a harsh lesson today. He will be too terrified to ever dream of doing this to another person, let alone Rafeea."
The doctor fell silent, deeply regretting that he had ever informed Alhaji Kwangila that he knew the young man.
Alhaji Kwangila then made a phone call, shouting furiously into the receiver: "Right now, I want you to go and arrest him! Do not show him any mercy until I get there. I am on my way to pick up Feeya from school, and we will come down together. I will text you the house address."
Hanging up the phone, he turned his gaze to the doctor, whose blood had run cold with anxiety. "Is he perhaps from your family, Doctor? Look at how deflated you look. You might as well get up and leave, because I swear by Allah, I will not spare him. If he had crossed anyone else and not my darling Feeya, I might have let it slide. But I swear by Allah, I will never tolerate anything that hurts my Feeya."
The doctor stood up, feeling incredibly uneasy. He knew Malik would think he had deliberately set a trap to harm Alfah, even though that was never his intention. The situation had completely spiraled out of his control; Alhaji Kwangila was entirely ruthless.
Inside the house, Malik heard their doorbell ring. He stood up, knowing that even if it rang for a thousand years, Alfah would never stop what he was doing to answer it. Putting his work aside, he threw a shirt over the singlet he was wearing. He walked past Alfah, who was busy exercising by the swimming pool area.
Opening the door, Malik began, "Doctor, you are welcome..."
But the sight of the men standing there made his heart drop instantly. They aggressively pushed past him and barged into the compound. Malik followed them in utter confusion and panic, stammering, "Sirs, what is the meaning of this? How can you just force your way into our home like this?"
One of the men grabbed him roughly by the collar, demanding, "Where is the guy who slapped Alhaji Kwangila’s daughter?"
Alfah had been watching the entire scene unfold from a distance. Seeing them violently grab Malik triggered an explosive wave of anger inside him. He hurled the heavy iron weight he was lifting to the ground and advanced toward them, consumed by pure rage.
The men didn't even see him coming. Alfah lunged forward, grabbed the policeman who was holding Malik, and violently threw him aside, sending him crashing to the ground.
Malik quickly scrambled to step in front of Alfah, frantic and trembling with terror because he realized these men were sent to arrest Alfah. "No! Stop! Don't bring more trouble upon us!" Malik pleaded.
The officer in charge stepped forward and barked, "Bring out the one who slapped Alhaji's daughter, or we will take both of you in!"
In a firm, unwavering voice, Alfah responded, "I am the one. What are you going to do about it?"
The officers stared at him in astonishment. The leader declared, "You are under arrest."
Alfah offered his collar and extended his hands, allowing them to snap the handcuffs onto him. Overwhelmed with panic, Malik cried out, "I swear we are going together! You will not take him alone! Do you even know who he is? You better watch your step before—"
"MALIK!!! Don't say another word here!" Alfah thundered, cutting him off completely. He then turned to the officer and said coldly, "Let's go."
Malik rushed out after them, flagged down a taxi, and trailed the police vehicle all the way to the station.
Fiyah and Rafeea attended the same school but were enrolled in different courses. As they came out for a thirty-minute break, Rafeea's father called her, instructing her to come along with her friend because they were heading to the police station regarding yesterday's incident.
Fiyah felt a wave of cold dread wash over her. She turned to Rafeea and said, "For God's sake, Feeya, why did you have to tell your dad? I swear this is wrong. If I go there, what am I supposed to say? Do you want me to give a testimony that will get him locked up? I am really unhappy about this."
Rafeea, also feeling deeply unsettled, replied, "I swear, Fiyah, he figured it out on his own—I didn't tell him. He saw the slap marks on my cheek and warned me that if I didn't tell him what happened, he would be furious with me. Even after I told him, I begged him to leave it alone because I had already forgiven the guy. But my brothers, Hashim and the others, egged him on, insisting that no matter who the guy is, he must not be spared."
Fiyah nodded slowly and suggested, "But when you get there, you can beg your father again to release him since you've forgiven him. Maybe he will relent."
Rafeea sighed, "Alright, I'll try. Let's go, he's waiting for us at the main gate."
Fiyah had never ridden in a luxury car like the one owned by Feeya’s father. The ride was so smooth it barely felt like they were moving, and the air conditioning filled the interior with a delightful, deep chill. In the blink of an eye, they arrived at the station. Fiyah was astonished; if they had taken a regular taxi, the immense distance would have taken them over an hour to travel.
Though she wished she could stay inside the comfort of the car, she was forced to step out. Instantly, a heavy sense of dread gripped her heart. I am in deep trouble, Fiyah thought anxiously. If Mama or Baba finds out I came to a police station, Baba will definitely beat me this time. Rafeea had to gently pull her forward as they walked into the station. Fiyah’s heart hammered against her chest as a profound pity for the stranger overtook her, and she prayed that Feeya’s dad would find it in his heart to forgive and release him.
The first person they encountered was Malik, who was sitting with his head buried in his hands, his eyes bloodshot from crying intensely. The bond of affection between Malik and Alfah was incredibly deep; whenever distress befell one, the other would thrown into a state of total agony, looking as though he were the direct victim. Conversely, when joy came, it was impossible to tell who the actual recipient was. Even now, Malik had exhausted every plea and begged the officers, offering to pay whatever amount of money they demanded to free Alfah.
However, the Divisional Police Officer (DPO) rejected the offer, stating that the man who ordered the arrest was far too powerful for them to accept a bribe from. Had it been anyone else, they would have happily taken the money and let Alfah go.
From inside the holding cell, Alfah barked, "Malik! If you say another word, I swear by everything I hold sacred, I will do something you will deeply regret! Why are you crying before these people? Are they your parents? Damn them! Don't you dare humiliate yourself by begging them. If they want, let them keep me locked up here until the Mahdi appears!"
These incendiary words pushed the DPO's patience over the edge. Incensed, the DPO ordered his men to go inside the cell and beat Alfah within an inch of his life.
Malik cried out in panic, "Sir, please don't do this! He will push back and cause destruction! If they touch him, it will end in disaster!"
Ignoring Malik's warnings, the DPO dispatched two constables to brutally assault Alfah. Alfah listened to them approach without saying a word or moving a muscle, though his internal rage had reached its absolute boiling point. He couldn't even remember the last time his explosive temper had been tested like this.
Suddenly, a heavy wooden baton struck his back. Seething with absolute fury, Alfah raised his head and locked eyes with the officer who hit him. Seeing the officer raising the baton for a second strike, Alfah delivered a lightning-fast punch straight to the man's face, instantly knocking one of his teeth out. Alfah unleashed an unyielding assault on the officer as if driven by divine wrath, pounding him relentlessly until the man was completely incapacitated.
He then turned his fierce gaze upon the second constable, who had literally begun to wet himself out of sheer terror after witnessing the brutal dismantling of his colleague. Alfah showed absolutely no mercy. Flexing his powerful muscles, he rained a barrage of devastating punches on them with all his might.
The officers could do nothing but scream "Sir! Sir!" in desperate pleas for help, entirely unable to defend themselves. Alfah beat them so severely that they couldn't even stand up. He then kicked the cell door open and threw their battered bodies out into the main corridor.
Right at that exact moment, Fiyah, Feeya, and Alhaji Kwangila walked into the station. Alhaji Kwangila stopped dead in his tracks, staring in utter shock. His mouth hung agape before he managed to stammer, "What am I looking at? What on earth is the meaning of this?"
The entire station fell into a stunned, quiet stupor. Even the DPO was temporarily speechless until he barked an order at his remaining men, before turning to Alhaji Kwangila: "Sir, I swear this guy is a hardened thug! He insulted us, so I ordered my men to discipline him, and this is what he did to them!"
Alhaji Kwangila stared at Alfah in sheer disbelief. He stepped forward until he was standing right in front of him, and placed his hand heavily on Alfah's shoulder.
In an explosive burst of anger, Alfah violently shrugged the hand off, casting a look of absolute disdain and disgust at the wealthy man. Batting Alhaji Kwangila's hand away, Alfah pointed a finger directly at his face and hissed in a dark, menacing voice:
"Don't you ever dare touch me with your filthy hand again!"
Alhaji Kwangila let out a mocking laugh, scanning Alfah from head to toe. "I am not surprised," he scoffed. "If it's you, you are capable of doing much worse. After all, even your own parents couldn't control you, let alone—"
"Stop telling nonsense about my parents, if...!!" Alfah roared, his face masking a terrifying rage, ready to unleash the storm building up inside him.
Alhaji Kwangila matched his fury, shouting back, "If what, huh?! Are you even a human being? You had the audacity to raise your filthy hand and slap my daughter. If your parents let you get away with your behavior, I swear by Allah I don't see any power that can stop me from locking you away forever, unless you humble yourself and beg for forgiveness!"
Feeya stood behind her father, wide-eyed with terror as she stared at Alfah’s merciless, hardened expression. Sensing the volatile tension, she pleaded, "Abba, please leave it alone! I swear I have already forgiven him for what he did to me. I've let it go, please let's just leave!"
Ignoring his daughter, Alhaji Kwangila turned to the DPO and ordered, "Lock him up until I personally give the order to release him!"
Malik rushed forward, shielding Alfah in a panic. "They will never lock him up again, I swear! You all better watch your step, because you will deeply regret this!"
Alhaji Kwangila erupted in a tirade: "Only his father would dare come here to plead for him, and I know his father will never step foot here because this worthless boy has already been cast out of their family lineage! Do you people even know what he did? Do you know the horrific abomination he committed that made his own parents disown and expel him? Let me tell you all, this boy you see here, the wife of—"
SLAP! CRACK! CRACK!
Before Alhaji Kwangila could utter another syllable, Alfah closed the distance and violently slapped him across the face three consecutive times.
Alfah's eyes burned a terrifying shade of crimson. At that exact moment, a high-ranking, dignified official entered the crowded station. Alfah, his voice choking and hoarse with uncontrollable fury, pointed aggressively at the stunned Alhaji Kwangila and roared:
"I swear by Allah, if you ever dare utter another foul word about me, I will kill you! I will rip your intestines out! You useless, empty, oversized fool! You corrupt government thief, you are incapable of anything except spreading lies and slander!"
"Abdoul-Nasser!! Be quiet this instant! I said if you utter another word, I will severely deal with you right here!" the newly arrived official thundered.
This distinguished man was none other than the Commissioner of Police.
Alfah lowered his hand, which had been pointing at Alhaji Kwangila as if ready to deliver a punch. He was panting heavily, desperately wanting to punch a wall just to vent his explosive rage. "Daddy, let me teach this fool a lesson! Let me tear down his pride! How dare he try to humiliate me... me?!" Alfah stammered, as hot, bitter tears began to stream down his cheeks.
Malik also wept, his heart breaking out of pure pity for his close friend and brother.
The Commissioner sternly repeated, "I warned you not to say another word, otherwise you will face my full wrath."
Ever since the Commissioner stepped into the room, the officers had stood at rigid attention, saluting him. With a stern expression, the Police Commissioner turned to Alhaji Kwangila and said, "Do you see now? I told you the last time to avoid provoking him, or he would completely humiliate you one day. Abdoul lacked any sense of shame even before this, let alone now when he is completely unhinged. He won't hesitate to strip away your dignity in public. And look at what happened, even after Malik ran to call me because I didn't want to think about what he would have done to you here."
Sweat poured down Alhaji Kwangila’s face as he nodded frantically, utterly terrified. Feeya stood to the side, weeping bitterly after witnessing her father get slapped even worse than she had been. Fiyah stood frozen, looking like a chicken drenched in boiling water, completely paralyzed with fear.
In a heavily subdued, humbled tone, Alhaji Kwangila muttered to the Commissioner, "I understand now, Alhaji Maude. I will be careful from now on."
Alhaji Maude (the Commissioner) then turned his gaze back to Alfah, who was still seething like a boiling pot. "Abdoul," he called out.
Alfah glared back at him with bloodshot eyes but remained silent. The Commissioner instructed, "Go on home now. I will come find you both later. Malik, if he misbehaves in any way, let me know."
Malik nodded gratefully, "Thank you, Daddy."
The Commissioner gave a final nod and said to Alhaji Kwangila, "You may return to your business, but be very cautious. Next time, he might do something far worse to you. As for your daughter, she should have patience and understand that this isn't Abdoul's true character."
Feeya, still wiping away tears, added, "Sir, I had already told my dad that I forgave him, but he insisted on having him locked up."
Alhaji Maude shook his head. "Uhm, it's alright. You all may leave now. I will go and counsel him properly later on."
Alfah stormed out of the police station looking as dangerous as a venomous viper. Malik hurried closely behind him, knowing that this particular dark mood would last for at least three days unless Alfah found something to violently vent his frustration on.
Fiyah immediately split away from them. She told Feeya that she wouldn't be joining them in their car, inventing an excuse about having somewhere else to go. In reality, her entire mind was consumed by a burning obsession to discover who this mysterious young man truly was. She felt a nagging familiarity, thinking he looked exactly like one of the children of Alhaji Mu'azzam Canji. However, her heart struggled to accept it—if he really belonged to such an elite family, why would he be living this kind of reckless, broken life? She shook her head, a deep, overwhelming wave of pity for him filling her soul.
Spotting Malik flagging down a taxi for Alfah, Fiyah quickly ran and hailed another taxi for herself, instructing the driver to follow them closely. She trailed them all the way to the gate of their residence and told her driver to park a short distance away.
Alfah violently threw his car door open and stepped out. He buried his hands in his hair, aggressively pacing and messing up his beautiful, thick hair, which resembled that of an Arab. He leaned against the outer wall of the compound, resting his head back and staring upward, waiting for Malik to pay off the taxi driver. One look at his posture made it clear he was in severe emotional agony.
Watching him from afar, tears silently began to stream down Fiyah's cheeks without her even realizing it. Malik joined Alfah and unlocked the small pedestrian gate, speaking to him gently, though Fiyah couldn't catch a word from that distance. Once she saw them disappear inside, she finally told her driver to take her back to Maitama Estate. Her university lectures were already over anyway, and she had skipped her final class.
She cried the entire way home. As the taxi approached her house, she quickly wiped away her tears and tried to compose herself. After paying the driver, she noticed a plastic kettle near their shop. She picked it up and washed her face thoroughly so her family wouldn't question why she had been crying.
"Sofiyyah, no words from you today?"
The greeting came from Dalha, the shopkeeper. Dalha was their maternal cousin whom Fiyah’s mother had brought all the way from Rimi—a town in Katsina State—to run the shop because he had been sitting idle back home.
Forcing a weak, exhausted smile, Fiyah replied, "Ah, Brother Dalha, I swear I am incredibly tired and rushing inside. Well done with your work, how is business?"
He smiled back, "Thanks be to God. Hurry inside before they eat all the food without you."
Giving him another beautiful smile, she hurried past into the house. She called out a greeting, and Yasmeen, who was busy taking down laundry from the clothesline, answered her.
"Welcome back, Sister! You must have endured a very hot sun today."
Fiyah simply nodded without giving a verbal response. Yasmeen watched her walk away, analyzing her behavior; it was painfully obvious that her elder sister was deeply troubled by something.
Their mother emerged from her room and noted, "I thought I heard Fiyah's voice."
Yasmeen, looking worried for her sister, replied, "It's her, Mama, but she looks like she isn't feeling well
"Sir, he sent it, but for the sake of Almighty God, please do not let this servant of Allah be locked up. I swear to you, he wasn't in his right mind when this happened. I have already apologized to Rafeea, explaining that he didn't do it intentionally."
In an outburst of anger, Alhaji Kwangila snapped, "Don't try to play me for a fool, Dr. Fahad!" He raised his massive, filthy hand. "He slapped my daughter across her face, insulted her, and then extended those insults to me. And now you are asking me to just let him go? I swear by Allah, whoever his father is, he will learn a harsh lesson today. He will be too terrified to ever dream of doing this to another person, let alone Rafeea."
The doctor fell silent, deeply regretting that he had ever informed Alhaji Kwangila that he knew the young man.
Alhaji Kwangila then made a phone call, shouting furiously into the receiver: "Right now, I want you to go and arrest him! Do not show him any mercy until I get there. I am on my way to pick up Feeya from school, and we will come down together. I will text you the house address."
Hanging up the phone, he turned his gaze to the doctor, whose blood had run cold with anxiety. "Is he perhaps from your family, Doctor? Look at how deflated you look. You might as well get up and leave, because I swear by Allah, I will not spare him. If he had crossed anyone else and not my darling Feeya, I might have let it slide. But I swear by Allah, I will never tolerate anything that hurts my Feeya."
The doctor stood up, feeling incredibly uneasy. He knew Malik would think he had deliberately set a trap to harm Alfah, even though that was never his intention. The situation had completely spiraled out of his control; Alhaji Kwangila was entirely ruthless.
Inside the house, Malik heard their doorbell ring. He stood up, knowing that even if it rang for a thousand years, Alfah would never stop what he was doing to answer it. Putting his work aside, he threw a shirt over the singlet he was wearing. He walked past Alfah, who was busy exercising by the swimming pool area.
Opening the door, Malik began, "Doctor, you are welcome..."
But the sight of the men standing there made his heart drop instantly. They aggressively pushed past him and barged into the compound. Malik followed them in utter confusion and panic, stammering, "Sirs, what is the meaning of this? How can you just force your way into our home like this?"
One of the men grabbed him roughly by the collar, demanding, "Where is the guy who slapped Alhaji Kwangila’s daughter?"
Alfah had been watching the entire scene unfold from a distance. Seeing them violently grab Malik triggered an explosive wave of anger inside him. He hurled the heavy iron weight he was lifting to the ground and advanced toward them, consumed by pure rage.
The men didn't even see him coming. Alfah lunged forward, grabbed the policeman who was holding Malik, and violently threw him aside, sending him crashing to the ground.
Malik quickly scrambled to step in front of Alfah, frantic and trembling with terror because he realized these men were sent to arrest Alfah. "No! Stop! Don't bring more trouble upon us!" Malik pleaded.
The officer in charge stepped forward and barked, "Bring out the one who slapped Alhaji's daughter, or we will take both of you in!"
In a firm, unwavering voice, Alfah responded, "I am the one. What are you going to do about it?"
The officers stared at him in astonishment. The leader declared, "You are under arrest."
Alfah offered his collar and extended his hands, allowing them to snap the handcuffs onto him. Overwhelmed with panic, Malik cried out, "I swear we are going together! You will not take him alone! Do you even know who he is? You better watch your step before—"
"MALIK!!! Don't say another word here!" Alfah thundered, cutting him off completely. He then turned to the officer and said coldly, "Let's go."
Malik rushed out after them, flagged down a taxi, and trailed the police vehicle all the way to the station.
Fiyah and Rafeea attended the same school but were enrolled in different courses. As they came out for a thirty-minute break, Rafeea's father called her, instructing her to come along with her friend because they were heading to the police station regarding yesterday's incident.
Fiyah felt a wave of cold dread wash over her. She turned to Rafeea and said, "For God's sake, Feeya, why did you have to tell your dad? I swear this is wrong. If I go there, what am I supposed to say? Do you want me to give a testimony that will get him locked up? I am really unhappy about this."
Rafeea, also feeling deeply unsettled, replied, "I swear, Fiyah, he figured it out on his own—I didn't tell him. He saw the slap marks on my cheek and warned me that if I didn't tell him what happened, he would be furious with me. Even after I told him, I begged him to leave it alone because I had already forgiven the guy. But my brothers, Hashim and the others, egged him on, insisting that no matter who the guy is, he must not be spared."
Fiyah nodded slowly and suggested, "But when you get there, you can beg your father again to release him since you've forgiven him. Maybe he will relent."
Rafeea sighed, "Alright, I'll try. Let's go, he's waiting for us at the main gate."
Fiyah had never ridden in a luxury car like the one owned by Feeya’s father. The ride was so smooth it barely felt like they were moving, and the air conditioning filled the interior with a delightful, deep chill. In the blink of an eye, they arrived at the station. Fiyah was astonished; if they had taken a regular taxi, the immense distance would have taken them over an hour to travel.
Though she wished she could stay inside the comfort of the car, she was forced to step out. Instantly, a heavy sense of dread gripped her heart. I am in deep trouble, Fiyah thought anxiously. If Mama or Baba finds out I came to a police station, Baba will definitely beat me this time. Rafeea had to gently pull her forward as they walked into the station. Fiyah’s heart hammered against her chest as a profound pity for the stranger overtook her, and she prayed that Feeya’s dad would find it in his heart to forgive and release him.
The first person they encountered was Malik, who was sitting with his head buried in his hands, his eyes bloodshot from crying intensely. The bond of affection between Malik and Alfah was incredibly deep; whenever distress befell one, the other would thrown into a state of total agony, looking as though he were the direct victim. Conversely, when joy came, it was impossible to tell who the actual recipient was. Even now, Malik had exhausted every plea and begged the officers, offering to pay whatever amount of money they demanded to free Alfah.
However, the Divisional Police Officer (DPO) rejected the offer, stating that the man who ordered the arrest was far too powerful for them to accept a bribe from. Had it been anyone else, they would have happily taken the money and let Alfah go.
From inside the holding cell, Alfah barked, "Malik! If you say another word, I swear by everything I hold sacred, I will do something you will deeply regret! Why are you crying before these people? Are they your parents? Damn them! Don't you dare humiliate yourself by begging them. If they want, let them keep me locked up here until the Mahdi appears!"
These incendiary words pushed the DPO's patience over the edge. Incensed, the DPO ordered his men to go inside the cell and beat Alfah within an inch of his life.
Malik cried out in panic, "Sir, please don't do this! He will push back and cause destruction! If they touch him, it will end in disaster!"
Ignoring Malik's warnings, the DPO dispatched two constables to brutally assault Alfah. Alfah listened to them approach without saying a word or moving a muscle, though his internal rage had reached its absolute boiling point. He couldn't even remember the last time his explosive temper had been tested like this.
Suddenly, a heavy wooden baton struck his back. Seething with absolute fury, Alfah raised his head and locked eyes with the officer who hit him. Seeing the officer raising the baton for a second strike, Alfah delivered a lightning-fast punch straight to the man's face, instantly knocking one of his teeth out. Alfah unleashed an unyielding assault on the officer as if driven by divine wrath, pounding him relentlessly until the man was completely incapacitated.
He then turned his fierce gaze upon the second constable, who had literally begun to wet himself out of sheer terror after witnessing the brutal dismantling of his colleague. Alfah showed absolutely no mercy. Flexing his powerful muscles, he rained a barrage of devastating punches on them with all his might.
The officers could do nothing but scream "Sir! Sir!" in desperate pleas for help, entirely unable to defend themselves. Alfah beat them so severely that they couldn't even stand up. He then kicked the cell door open and threw their battered bodies out into the main corridor.
Right at that exact moment, Fiyah, Feeya, and Alhaji Kwangila walked into the station. Alhaji Kwangila stopped dead in his tracks, staring in utter shock. His mouth hung agape before he managed to stammer, "What am I looking at? What on earth is the meaning of this?"
The entire station fell into a stunned, quiet stupor. Even the DPO was temporarily speechless until he barked an order at his remaining men, before turning to Alhaji Kwangila: "Sir, I swear this guy is a hardened thug! He insulted us, so I ordered my men to discipline him, and this is what he did to them!"
Alhaji Kwangila stared at Alfah in sheer disbelief. He stepped forward until he was standing right in front of him, and placed his hand heavily on Alfah's shoulder.
In an explosive burst of anger, Alfah violently shrugged the hand off, casting a look of absolute disdain and disgust at the wealthy man. Batting Alhaji Kwangila's hand away, Alfah pointed a finger directly at his face and hissed in a dark, menacing voice:
"Don't you ever dare touch me with your filthy hand again!"
Alhaji Kwangila let out a mocking laugh, scanning Alfah from head to toe. "I am not surprised," he scoffed. "If it's you, you are capable of doing much worse. After all, even your own parents couldn't control you, let alone—"
"Stop telling nonsense about my parents, if...!!" Alfah roared, his face masking a terrifying rage, ready to unleash the storm building up inside him.
Alhaji Kwangila matched his fury, shouting back, "If what, huh?! Are you even a human being? You had the audacity to raise your filthy hand and slap my daughter. If your parents let you get away with your behavior, I swear by Allah I don't see any power that can stop me from locking you away forever, unless you humble yourself and beg for forgiveness!"
Feeya stood behind her father, wide-eyed with terror as she stared at Alfah’s merciless, hardened expression. Sensing the volatile tension, she pleaded, "Abba, please leave it alone! I swear I have already forgiven him for what he did to me. I've let it go, please let's just leave!"
Ignoring his daughter, Alhaji Kwangila turned to the DPO and ordered, "Lock him up until I personally give the order to release him!"
Malik rushed forward, shielding Alfah in a panic. "They will never lock him up again, I swear! You all better watch your step, because you will deeply regret this!"
Alhaji Kwangila erupted in a tirade: "Only his father would dare come here to plead for him, and I know his father will never step foot here because this worthless boy has already been cast out of their family lineage! Do you people even know what he did? Do you know the horrific abomination he committed that made his own parents disown and expel him? Let me tell you all, this boy you see here, the wife of—"
SLAP! CRACK! CRACK!
Before Alhaji Kwangila could utter another syllable, Alfah closed the distance and violently slapped him across the face three consecutive times.
Alfah's eyes burned a terrifying shade of crimson. At that exact moment, a high-ranking, dignified official entered the crowded station. Alfah, his voice choking and hoarse with uncontrollable fury, pointed aggressively at the stunned Alhaji Kwangila and roared:
"I swear by Allah, if you ever dare utter another foul word about me, I will kill you! I will rip your intestines out! You useless, empty, oversized fool! You corrupt government thief, you are incapable of anything except spreading lies and slander!"
"Abdoul-Nasser!! Be quiet this instant! I said if you utter another word, I will severely deal with you right here!" the newly arrived official thundered.
This distinguished man was none other than the Commissioner of Police.
Alfah lowered his hand, which had been pointing at Alhaji Kwangila as if ready to deliver a punch. He was panting heavily, desperately wanting to punch a wall just to vent his explosive rage. "Daddy, let me teach this fool a lesson! Let me tear down his pride! How dare he try to humiliate me... me?!" Alfah stammered, as hot, bitter tears began to stream down his cheeks.
Malik also wept, his heart breaking out of pure pity for his close friend and brother.
The Commissioner sternly repeated, "I warned you not to say another word, otherwise you will face my full wrath."
Ever since the Commissioner stepped into the room, the officers had stood at rigid attention, saluting him. With a stern expression, the Police Commissioner turned to Alhaji Kwangila and said, "Do you see now? I told you the last time to avoid provoking him, or he would completely humiliate you one day. Abdoul lacked any sense of shame even before this, let alone now when he is completely unhinged. He won't hesitate to strip away your dignity in public. And look at what happened, even after Malik ran to call me because I didn't want to think about what he would have done to you here."
Sweat poured down Alhaji Kwangila’s face as he nodded frantically, utterly terrified. Feeya stood to the side, weeping bitterly after witnessing her father get slapped even worse than she had been. Fiyah stood frozen, looking like a chicken drenched in boiling water, completely paralyzed with fear.
In a heavily subdued, humbled tone, Alhaji Kwangila muttered to the Commissioner, "I understand now, Alhaji Maude. I will be careful from now on."
Alhaji Maude (the Commissioner) then turned his gaze back to Alfah, who was still seething like a boiling pot. "Abdoul," he called out.
Alfah glared back at him with bloodshot eyes but remained silent. The Commissioner instructed, "Go on home now. I will come find you both later. Malik, if he misbehaves in any way, let me know."
Malik nodded gratefully, "Thank you, Daddy."
The Commissioner gave a final nod and said to Alhaji Kwangila, "You may return to your business, but be very cautious. Next time, he might do something far worse to you. As for your daughter, she should have patience and understand that this isn't Abdoul's true character."
Feeya, still wiping away tears, added, "Sir, I had already told my dad that I forgave him, but he insisted on having him locked up."
Alhaji Maude shook his head. "Uhm, it's alright. You all may leave now. I will go and counsel him properly later on."
Alfah stormed out of the police station looking as dangerous as a venomous viper. Malik hurried closely behind him, knowing that this particular dark mood would last for at least three days unless Alfah found something to violently vent his frustration on.
Fiyah immediately split away from them. She told Feeya that she wouldn't be joining them in their car, inventing an excuse about having somewhere else to go. In reality, her entire mind was consumed by a burning obsession to discover who this mysterious young man truly was. She felt a nagging familiarity, thinking he looked exactly like one of the children of Alhaji Mu'azzam Canji. However, her heart struggled to accept it—if he really belonged to such an elite family, why would he be living this kind of reckless, broken life? She shook her head, a deep, overwhelming wave of pity for him filling her soul.
Spotting Malik flagging down a taxi for Alfah, Fiyah quickly ran and hailed another taxi for herself, instructing the driver to follow them closely. She trailed them all the way to the gate of their residence and told her driver to park a short distance away.
Alfah violently threw his car door open and stepped out. He buried his hands in his hair, aggressively pacing and messing up his beautiful, thick hair, which resembled that of an Arab. He leaned against the outer wall of the compound, resting his head back and staring upward, waiting for Malik to pay off the taxi driver. One look at his posture made it clear he was in severe emotional agony.
Watching him from afar, tears silently began to stream down Fiyah's cheeks without her even realizing it. Malik joined Alfah and unlocked the small pedestrian gate, speaking to him gently, though Fiyah couldn't catch a word from that distance. Once she saw them disappear inside, she finally told her driver to take her back to Maitama Estate. Her university lectures were already over anyway, and she had skipped her final class.
She cried the entire way home. As the taxi approached her house, she quickly wiped away her tears and tried to compose herself. After paying the driver, she noticed a plastic kettle near their shop. She picked it up and washed her face thoroughly so her family wouldn't question why she had been crying.
"Sofiyyah, no words from you today?"
The greeting came from Dalha, the shopkeeper. Dalha was their maternal cousin whom Fiyah’s mother had brought all the way from Rimi—a town in Katsina State—to run the shop because he had been sitting idle back home.
Forcing a weak, exhausted smile, Fiyah replied, "Ah, Brother Dalha, I swear I am incredibly tired and rushing inside. Well done with your work, how is business?"
He smiled back, "Thanks be to God. Hurry inside before they eat all the food without you."
Giving him another beautiful smile, she hurried past into the house. She called out a greeting, and Yasmeen, who was busy taking down laundry from the clothesline, answered her.
"Welcome back, Sister! You must have endured a very hot sun today."
Fiyah simply nodded without giving a verbal response. Yasmeen watched her walk away, analyzing her behavior; it was painfully obvious that her elder sister was deeply troubled by something.
Their mother emerged from her room and noted, "I thought I heard Fiyah's voice."
Yasmeen, looking worried for her sister, replied, "It's her, Mama, but she looks like she isn't feeling well