She walked at a very fast pace, her eyes framed by elegant white medical glasses that enhanced her facial features. She glanced down at the expensive watch strapped to her wrist, her beautiful, large eyes widening slightly as she realized she was running deeply late. She wore a blue school uniform trouser paired with a long hijab that extended all the way to the ground, and a white under-scarf that, no matter how much she pulled it forward, failed to fully conceal her smooth hair which lay neatly across her forehead, nearly touching her eyebrows. Slung over one shoulder was a fashionable backpack popular among young women, one strap secure while the other swung freely behind her back.
Halimatus Sadiya was a young woman of average, tall stature. She wasn't chubby at all, yet her physique was naturally well-filled. While she didn't possess a exceptionally fair complexion, she was remarkably beautiful, with features so perfect they looked sculpted. She was no older than seventeen.
Stopping right at the entrance of the street corner, she gasped, "Oh Allah, Khadija, I swear I am completely exhausted!" She directed her complaint toward Khadija, who stood there with a deeply stern, uninviting expression on her face.
Khadija rolled her eyes and snapped, “Listen, if you are coming with me, then hurry up and walk! You managed to make us late with this ridiculous, playful dilly-dallying of yours.”
Halima tilted her head with a playful, pouty expression and simply walked ahead. Khadija followed closely behind her, grumbling excessively as if she had borrowed an extra mouth just to complain.
Clutching her head in frustration, Halima groaned, “By Allah, you are driving me completely insane! We are about to part ways at this intersection anyway, so just—”
She froze, unable to finish her sentence as her gaze locked onto the side of the street.
He was seated on a white plastic chair with one leg crossed over the other. Even while seated, his towering height and broad chest were unmistakably clear. He possessed a rich chocolate complexion. His face was defined by large, striking eyes under thick, pitch-black eyebrows that looked as though they had been meticulously enhanced with traditional eyeliner (*jagira*). He had a prominent, captivating nose and a small, well-shaped mouth with full, dual-toned lips that shifted from deep brown to a light pink hue. A neatly trimmed beard and mustache framed his jawline, with a thin, sharp line of sideburns extending gracefully to his ears. His dark, pitch-black hair was flawlessly cut and exceptionally well-groomed, catching the eye instantly.
He was dressed in a pair of white three-quarter shorts and a crisp white T-shirt. His eyes were half-closed, and one hand was raised, running through his hair. His face was set in a firm, unreadable expression, completely devoid of any playfulness or warmth. This imposing figure was none other than **ABU BILAL**.
Khadija’s eyes widened in absolute shock when she noticed Halimatus Sadiya standing dead in her tracks with her mouth slightly open, completely star-struck and staring intensely at Abu Bilal. At that exact moment, sensing a lingering gaze on his body, he slowly opened his heavy eyes. His piercing gaze locked squarely into Halima's. Terrified by the sheer intensity of his stare, Halima violently squeezed her eyes shut and took a sharp step backward, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs.
Khadija grabbed her arm with a powerful, sudden jerk, pulling her away from the scene as they hurried down the street. Turning on Halima with furious indignation, Khadija hissed, “Have you completely lost your mind?! What on earth is wrong with you? Are you trying to bring a catastrophe down upon us that our entire extended family won't be powerful enough to protect us from? Protect my dignity, please! You entered this neighborhood safely under my guidance, so make sure you leave it safely to return to your home. You know very well that I am your only link to this area.”
Halima stared at Khadija blankly, completely failing to process a single word of her friend's frantic warnings. Her heart was still pounding violently against her chest. With great difficulty, she managed to choke out a whisper from the depths of her throat: “Who is he?”
Khadija shot her a fierce glare. “I have no idea! And starting from tomorrow, you will walk straight to the Islamic school (*Islamiyyah*) on your own; I will only meet you once you are inside the premises.”
Halima let out a sharp, irritated hiss. "What a miserable, argumentative pain," she muttered, violently wrenching her hand free from Khadija’s grip as she marched inside the Islamic school.
Throughout the entire school day, Halimatus Sadiya remained completely distracted. She couldn't comprehend a single lesson, learned absolutely nothing, and moved around the school looking utterly dazed and ill. Khadija observed her behavior closely but chose to ignore it, completely unwilling to reignite the tense argument from earlier that afternoon.
### Section 2: The Child Bilal and the Palace Guard Confrontation
When the Islamic school finally dismissed for the day, the entrance was crowded with departing students. Suddenly, a young boy sprinted through the crowd, ran directly up to Halimatu, and tugged at her hand.
"Aunty, please fix this for me," he pleaded, looking down at his shoe where the laces had completely unraveled.
She turned around and looked down at the exceptionally beautiful child. He was roughly five years old, and the Islamic school uniform suited his features perfectly. A warm smile broke across her face. She patted his head gently, kneeling down to his height, and replied softly, “Of course, little brother.”
As she neatly tied his shoelaces, the boy smiled and said, “Thank you.”
With a bright smile, she asked, “What's your name?”
The boy raised a tiny hand, running it through his hair just like the man from earlier, and articulated clearly, “**BILAL ALIYU**.”
Before she could speak another word, two imposing, burly security operatives stepped forward, aggressively pulling Bilal's hand away from her. Halima gasped in terror, recoiling quickly as if she might fall. The sheer, menacing presence of the men terrified her to her core; their faces were completely expressionless and utterly devoid of any human warmth.
Khadija quickly caught her breath, pulling Halima up from her kneeling position. In a lowered, anxious tone, she whispered, “Sadiya, why are you doing all this? Please, I beg of you, do not trigger a situation that we cannot handle.”
They nervously made their way home. As they approached the exact location where they had encountered the mysterious man earlier that afternoon, Sadiya stared at the spot so intensely it felt as though her eyes might pop out of her head, but the white plastic chair was empty; he was gone. Instantly, a deep sense of unease and physical discomfort washed over her. In a somber mood, she exchanged a rushed goodbye with Khadija and walked the rest of the way home alone, her mind completely consumed by a whirlwind of confusing thoughts.
### Section 3: The Mud Splashing Incident and an Elite Lineage Revealed
Suddenly, Sadiya gasped in utter horror, staring down at her body. A passing luxury car had just driven through a deep puddle, splashing filthy, stagnant gutter water all over her clean uniform and across her medical glasses.
Seething with an intense, burning rage, she bolted down the street after the vehicle, catching up to it just as it pulled into a parking lot. Standing before the driver's side door, she erupted at the chauffeur in a fit of furious indignation: “Look at what you have done! Look at how you have completely ruined me with filthy water! Even if you did this to an animal, common decency demands that you stop to check on it, let alone a human being!”
The driver aggressively threw his car door open, stepping out and sizing her up with a vicious, menacing glare. “So what if you got splashed? If you keep running your mouth, I swear by Allah I will leave you flat on the ground with a slap right here!”
Sadiya’s eyes shifted to a dangerous, fiery hue. Completely unfazed by his threats, she barked back, “I swear to you, don't you dare even dream of it, let alone try it! Whatever status or power you think you hold, my family's power completely dwarfs it! If you think I am joking, go ahead and try me! You are nothing but an uncultured fool who doesn't understand the basic dignity of a human being!”
The driver, whose name was Jagwado, felt his chest tighten with absolute rage at being humiliated by a mere teenage girl. He raised his large hand, completely prepared to deliver a violent slap across her face.
At that exact second, the rear door of the luxury car opened. Abu Bilal stepped out slowly, moving with an elite, calculated air of aristocratic authority. He raised a single hand to halt his driver, Jagwado.
The profound, resonant depth of his voice hit Sadiya's eardrums as he struggled to articulate a difficult, broken phrase: “Please... forgive... him.”
He spoke with a noticeable distance between his words due to his speech impediment. Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and walked into the grand estate before which they had parked.
Sadiya stood completely frozen to the spot, her eyes glued to his retreating figure. Instantly, every ounce of burning rage within her chest completely dissolved. In a daze, she turned around and walked toward her own neighborhood, which was not very far from his location.
She stopped directly in front of a massive, towering estate gate. She reached out and pushed the heavy door open. Instantly, two armed security guards stationed at the entrance sprang to their feet in their crisp uniforms, bowing respectfully as they greeted her, “Welcome back, Miss.”
A wide, radiant smile broke across her face as she replied warmly, “Good afternoon to you both. I have told you repeatedly to stop standing up for me like this! You are elders to me, and you should be treated like parents.”
Deeply moved by Sadiya's profound humility, respect, and elite manners, the elderly guards showered her with blessings and prayers. Smiling brightly and accepting their kind words, she walked toward the main entrance of the mansion.
Only then did the full scale of the estate become apparent. It was a staggering, sprawling palace complex so massive it could easily be classified as a self-contained town. To describe its architectural design would be a waste of time; even the fleet of exotic cars lined up in the luxury parking lot was a breathtaking sight. Throughout the manicured grounds, numerous uniformed palace housekeepers shuffled about, pausing to bow and welcome Sadiya back, to which she responded with her signature warm smile.
*"Masha Allah" (As Allah wills)* was the only phrase that could describe the interior as she stepped into the grand living room—it was a literal paradise on earth. The space was completely devoid of clutter, structured with flawless, elite interior design that divided the mansion into three distinct residential wings.
She turned into the right wing of the palace, her voice echoing through the corridor as she called out joyfully, “Amma! My Amma!”
An elegant, fair-skinned elderly matriarch stepped out of the inner rooms, dressed in highly luxurious, royal attire. A single glance at her face revealed an absolute, striking resemblance to Halimatus Sadiya.
"My blessed child, welcome home. What on earth happened to your clothes?" Amma asked, her eyes widening as she took in the mud stains.
Leaning her head playfully to the side with deep affection for her mother, Sadiya pouted, "My Amma, a reckless car splashed gutter water all over me on my way back. But I will clean myself up right now." She pushed open one of the three grand doors leading off the wing's private living room into her bedroom.
Her private quarters were styled entirely in royal blue, flawlessly organized and filled with a rich, expensive fragrance. She placed her backpack in its designated storage area and walked straight into her master bathroom. She stripped out of her stained uniform, placed the clothes—including her undergarments—into the washing machine, and washed them thoroughly until they were spotless before hanging them in the indoor drying area.
She then stepped under the hot shower, closing her eyes tightly. The moment she did, the image of the mysterious young man from earlier flashed vividly behind her eyelids. Her mind could see nothing but his striking silhouette, and her ears echoed with the heavy, melodious tone of his broken voice. Fighting through the overwhelming distraction, she finished her bath and stepped out wrapped in a plush towel, radiating the sweet scent of her luxury soaps.
Standing before her vanity mirror, she blow-dried her thick, luxurious black hair, which cascaded all the way down to the center of her back, and quickly applied her lotions. She dressed in a crisp, pure white designer gown, spraying her body with expensive perfumes. Finally, she strapped her luxury watch back onto her wrist, adjusted her medical glasses, draped a black veil over her shoulders, and walked back out into the living area.
### Section 4: A Mother's Jealousy and the Secret Dynamic of Sadiya's Family
As Sadiya walked out into the living room checking her Samsung smartphone, she nearly collided with a young man. She took a quick step back, her face lighting up with a wide smile as she looked up at Faruq, who was beaming down at her.
"Yaya Faruq! When did you return?" she asked joyfully.
He opened his arms wide and teased playfully, “Right around the time my little Ammie completely forgot about my existence!”
*(Note: Faruq was the son of Sadiya's paternal aunt—her father's late sister. His mother had passed away after giving birth to only two children, which prompted Sadiya's father, Daddy, to honor his late sister's memory by naming his own only daughter Halimatus Sadiya).*
Sadiya laughed, "I swear I could never forget about you, Yaya!" She stepped aside to let him proceed into the inner rooms to greet Amma, while she walked into the central grand parlor of the mansion.
There, she found **Hajiya Mama** (her father's senior wife) sitting imperiously on a luxury chair, aggressively clicking through TV channels with a remote control, her face twisted in a deep scowl.
Sadiya knelt down respectfully and greeted, “Good afternoon, Mama. Welcome back.”
Instantly, Hajiya Mama’s face transformed, her scowl vanishing into a sweet, forced smile as she replied, “Ah, my blessed child! Are you just returning from the Quranic memorization school (*Tahfeez*)?”
Sadiya nodded in affirmation. Just then, she spotted her father, **Daddy**, stepping through the main entrance of the palace. Her face erupted in joy, and she ran toward him, taking his heavy briefcase from his hand. “My Daddy, welcome back from work!”
He patted her head affectionately, drawing her into a tight, loving embrace. “Good afternoon, my little princess. How was your Tahfeez class today?”
In a soft, disciplined tone, she replied, “Alhamdulillah (Praise be to Allah), it went very well.”
A wave of bitter, suffocating jealousy burned through Hajiya Mama’s chest as she watched Daddy hold Sadiya so closely. Her heart felt as though it would leap out of her throat due to the intense resentment she harbored; Hajiya Mama had never been able to conceive children of her own in this household, and Sadiya was Daddy's only child and heir in the entire world.
Forcing a pleasant expression onto her face to mask her internal malice, Hajiya Mama smiled and said, “Sadiya's Daddy, welcome back. How was the office today?”
Smiling warmly at his wife, he replied, “Everything went perfectly, Halimatu's Hajiya. How has my little troublemaker been treating you today?”
Hajiya Mama laughed softly, “Oh, you know that since she had Tahfeez today, her troublemaking was kept to a minimum, but she is preparing to start it up right now!”
They all laughed together. Hajiya Mama then took the briefcase from Sadiya’s hand, and she alongside Daddy walked into the master suite of the grand parlor.
### Section 5: Abu Bilal's Fractured Home and Bilal's Departure
Meanwhile, across town, the narrative shifts to Abu Bilal's household. The moment he stepped into his modest family compound, he violently kicked a plastic bucket out of his path in a fit of residual frustration.
**Mama Uwani** (his stepmother) jumped to her feet in a rage, adjusting her headscarf as she prepared to scream at whoever dared to kick her property. However, her anger froze instantly when she saw it was Abu Bilal.
An elderly uncle named **Datti** burst into a mocking laugh and taunted, “Look at you, Uwani, always full of useless screaming! The person who kicked your bucket isn't someone low like me whom you can look down upon—it is the master of the house himself! Look how you've gone completely silent, as if water has filled your mouth.”
Mama Uwani narrowed her eyes and snapped back defensively, “Well, I am still in the right, because he isn't the one who bought that bucket for me!”
Abu Bilal didn't grant either of them a single glance. He marched past them toward his private wing. Just then, his five-year-old son, Bilal, came running out of the house, throwing his little arms around his father's waist from behind.
**Sudeis** (Abu Bilal's actual name) closed his eyes tightly, a wave of profound emotion washing through his chest. He knew that in this entire harsh world, only his innocent little boy possessed the power to touch his heart like this. Letting his cold, stern facial expression soften slightly, he turned around, lifted the boy high into the air, and held him close.
Bilal let out a joyful laugh, wrapping his arms around his father's neck. “Welcome home, my Abba!”
Sudeis pulled the boy against his broad chest, kissing his forehead tenderly. "Thank you," he murmured. He then fell silent, his speech impediment making him hesitant to say more.
Understanding his father’s silent nature perfectly despite his young age, Bilal quickly filled the silence, babbling happily: “My Tahfeez class was great, Alhamdulillah! I read so much today, Abba! And today, a beautiful Aunty fixed my shoes for me at school!”
Suddenly, Datti interrupted them from across the yard, grumbling loudly, “You walk into this compound and the first thing you do is cause destruction, without even granting us a greeting or a basic Islamic salam! I swear, Aliyu, your character is completely warped. You do nothing but bring misery to this family.”
Sudeis squeezed his eyes shut in intense frustration, biting down hard on his lower lip until it almost bled. He snapped his head around, directing a lethal, burning glare toward Datti. Terrified by the sheer violence in his bloodshot eyes, Mama Uwani bolted back into her bedroom, trembling with fear, while Datti scrambled to grab his slippers, preparing to flee the compound entirely.
At the gate, Datti nearly collided with **Aunty Aysha** (Abu Bilal’s elite older sister). She was impeccably dressed in highly expensive, luxurious garments, radiating wealth and high status. She shared an undeniable, striking physical resemblance with Sudeis. With a warm smile on her face, she stepped into the compound and teased, “Oh my, Uncle Datti! Why are you running away with your slippers in your hand? It looks like you've triggered my brother's famous temper today!”
Datti blinked nervously, forcing a wide, sycophantic grin, knowing that Aysha’s arrival meant he could beg her for money. He grumbled insincerely, “Oh, let it be, Aysha! Aliyu does nothing but mistreat me. Allah knows I have never even given him a bad look in his life.”
1: An Intense Encounter on the Way to School
She walked at a very fast pace, her eyes framed by elegant white medical glasses that enhanced her facial features. She glanced down at the expensive watch strapped to her wrist, her beautiful, large eyes widening slightly as she realized she was running deeply late. She wore a blue school uniform trouser paired with a long hijab that extended all the way to the ground, and a white under-scarf that, no matter how much she pulled it forward, failed to fully conceal her smooth hair which lay neatly across her forehead, nearly touching her eyebrows. Slung over one shoulder was a fashionable backpack popular among young women, one strap secure while the other swung freely behind her back.
Halimatus Sadiya was a young woman of average, tall stature. She wasn't chubby at all, yet her physique was naturally well-filled. While she didn't possess a exceptionally fair complexion, she was remarkably beautiful, with features so perfect they looked sculpted. She was no older than seventeen.
Stopping right at the entrance of the street corner, she gasped, "Oh Allah, Khadija, I swear I am completely exhausted!" She directed her complaint toward Khadija, who stood there with a deeply stern, uninviting expression on her face.
Khadija rolled her eyes and snapped, “Listen, if you are coming with me, then hurry up and walk! You managed to make us late with this ridiculous, playful dilly-dallying of yours.”
Halima tilted her head with a playful, pouty expression and simply walked ahead. Khadija followed closely behind her, grumbling excessively as if she had borrowed an extra mouth just to complain.
Clutching her head in frustration, Halima groaned, “By Allah, you are driving me completely insane! We are about to part ways at this intersection anyway, so just—”
She froze, unable to finish her sentence as her gaze locked onto the side of the street.
He was seated on a white plastic chair with one leg crossed over the other. Even while seated, his towering height and broad chest were unmistakably clear. He possessed a rich chocolate complexion. His face was defined by large, striking eyes under thick, pitch-black eyebrows that looked as though they had been meticulously enhanced with traditional eyeliner (*jagira*). He had a prominent, captivating nose and a small, well-shaped mouth with full, dual-toned lips that shifted from deep brown to a light pink hue. A neatly trimmed beard and mustache framed his jawline, with a thin, sharp line of sideburns extending gracefully to his ears. His dark, pitch-black hair was flawlessly cut and exceptionally well-groomed, catching the eye instantly.
He was dressed in a pair of white three-quarter shorts and a crisp white T-shirt. His eyes were half-closed, and one hand was raised, running through his hair. His face was set in a firm, unreadable expression, completely devoid of any playfulness or warmth. This imposing figure was none other than **ABU BILAL**.
Khadija’s eyes widened in absolute shock when she noticed Halimatus Sadiya standing dead in her tracks with her mouth slightly open, completely star-struck and staring intensely at Abu Bilal. At that exact moment, sensing a lingering gaze on his body, he slowly opened his heavy eyes. His piercing gaze locked squarely into Halima's. Terrified by the sheer intensity of his stare, Halima violently squeezed her eyes shut and took a sharp step backward, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs.
Khadija grabbed her arm with a powerful, sudden jerk, pulling her away from the scene as they hurried down the street. Turning on Halima with furious indignation, Khadija hissed, “Have you completely lost your mind?! What on earth is wrong with you? Are you trying to bring a catastrophe down upon us that our entire extended family won't be powerful enough to protect us from? Protect my dignity, please! You entered this neighborhood safely under my guidance, so make sure you leave it safely to return to your home. You know very well that I am your only link to this area.”
Halima stared at Khadija blankly, completely failing to process a single word of her friend's frantic warnings. Her heart was still pounding violently against her chest. With great difficulty, she managed to choke out a whisper from the depths of her throat: “Who is he?”
Khadija shot her a fierce glare. “I have no idea! And starting from tomorrow, you will walk straight to the Islamic school (*Islamiyyah*) on your own; I will only meet you once you are inside the premises.”
Halima let out a sharp, irritated hiss. "What a miserable, argumentative pain," she muttered, violently wrenching her hand free from Khadija’s grip as she marched inside the Islamic school.
Throughout the entire school day, Halimatus Sadiya remained completely distracted. She couldn't comprehend a single lesson, learned absolutely nothing, and moved around the school looking utterly dazed and ill. Khadija observed her behavior closely but chose to ignore it, completely unwilling to reignite the tense argument from earlier that afternoon.
### Section 2: The Child Bilal and the Palace Guard Confrontation
When the Islamic school finally dismissed for the day, the entrance was crowded with departing students. Suddenly, a young boy sprinted through the crowd, ran directly up to Halimatu, and tugged at her hand.
"Aunty, please fix this for me," he pleaded, looking down at his shoe where the laces had completely unraveled.
She turned around and looked down at the exceptionally beautiful child. He was roughly five years old, and the Islamic school uniform suited his features perfectly. A warm smile broke across her face. She patted his head gently, kneeling down to his height, and replied softly, “Of course, little brother.”
As she neatly tied his shoelaces, the boy smiled and said, “Thank you.”
With a bright smile, she asked, “What's your name?”
The boy raised a tiny hand, running it through his hair just like the man from earlier, and articulated clearly, “**BILAL ALIYU**.”
Before she could speak another word, two imposing, burly security operatives stepped forward, aggressively pulling Bilal's hand away from her. Halima gasped in terror, recoiling quickly as if she might fall. The sheer, menacing presence of the men terrified her to her core; their faces were completely expressionless and utterly devoid of any human warmth.
Khadija quickly caught her breath, pulling Halima up from her kneeling position. In a lowered, anxious tone, she whispered, “Sadiya, why are you doing all this? Please, I beg of you, do not trigger a situation that we cannot handle.”
They nervously made their way home. As they approached the exact location where they had encountered the mysterious man earlier that afternoon, Sadiya stared at the spot so intensely it felt as though her eyes might pop out of her head, but the white plastic chair was empty; he was gone. Instantly, a deep sense of unease and physical discomfort washed over her. In a somber mood, she exchanged a rushed goodbye with Khadija and walked the rest of the way home alone, her mind completely consumed by a whirlwind of confusing thoughts.
### Section 3: The Mud Splashing Incident and an Elite Lineage Revealed
Suddenly, Sadiya gasped in utter horror, staring down at her body. A passing luxury car had just driven through a deep puddle, splashing filthy, stagnant gutter water all over her clean uniform and across her medical glasses.
Seething with an intense, burning rage, she bolted down the street after the vehicle, catching up to it just as it pulled into a parking lot. Standing before the driver's side door, she erupted at the chauffeur in a fit of furious indignation: “Look at what you have done! Look at how you have completely ruined me with filthy water! Even if you did this to an animal, common decency demands that you stop to check on it, let alone a human being!”
The driver aggressively threw his car door open, stepping out and sizing her up with a vicious, menacing glare. “So what if you got splashed? If you keep running your mouth, I swear by Allah I will leave you flat on the ground with a slap right here!”
Sadiya’s eyes shifted to a dangerous, fiery hue. Completely unfazed by his threats, she barked back, “I swear to you, don't you dare even dream of it, let alone try it! Whatever status or power you think you hold, my family's power completely dwarfs it! If you think I am joking, go ahead and try me! You are nothing but an uncultured fool who doesn't understand the basic dignity of a human being!”
The driver, whose name was Jagwado, felt his chest tighten with absolute rage at being humiliated by a mere teenage girl. He raised his large hand, completely prepared to deliver a violent slap across her face.
At that exact second, the rear door of the luxury car opened. Abu Bilal stepped out slowly, moving with an elite, calculated air of aristocratic authority. He raised a single hand to halt his driver, Jagwado.
The profound, resonant depth of his voice hit Sadiya's eardrums as he struggled to articulate a difficult, broken phrase: “Please... forgive... him.”
He spoke with a noticeable distance between his words due to his speech impediment. Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and walked into the grand estate before which they had parked.
Sadiya stood completely frozen to the spot, her eyes glued to his retreating figure. Instantly, every ounce of burning rage within her chest completely dissolved. In a daze, she turned around and walked toward her own neighborhood, which was not very far from his location.
She stopped directly in front of a massive, towering estate gate. She reached out and pushed the heavy door open. Instantly, two armed security guards stationed at the entrance sprang to their feet in their crisp uniforms, bowing respectfully as they greeted her, “Welcome back, Miss.”
A wide, radiant smile broke across her face as she replied warmly, “Good afternoon to you both. I have told you repeatedly to stop standing up for me like this! You are elders to me, and you should be treated like parents.”
Deeply moved by Sadiya's profound humility, respect, and elite manners, the elderly guards showered her with blessings and prayers. Smiling brightly and accepting their kind words, she walked toward the main entrance of the mansion.
Only then did the full scale of the estate become apparent. It was a staggering, sprawling palace complex so massive it could easily be classified as a self-contained town. To describe its architectural design would be a waste of time; even the fleet of exotic cars lined up in the luxury parking lot was a breathtaking sight. Throughout the manicured grounds, numerous uniformed palace housekeepers shuffled about, pausing to bow and welcome Sadiya back, to which she responded with her signature warm smile.
*"Masha Allah" (As Allah wills)* was the only phrase that could describe the interior as she stepped into the grand living room—it was a literal paradise on earth. The space was completely devoid of clutter, structured with flawless, elite interior design that divided the mansion into three distinct residential wings.
She turned into the right wing of the palace, her voice echoing through the corridor as she called out joyfully, “Amma! My Amma!”
An elegant, fair-skinned elderly matriarch stepped out of the inner rooms, dressed in highly luxurious, royal attire. A single glance at her face revealed an absolute, striking resemblance to Halimatus Sadiya.
"My blessed child, welcome home. What on earth happened to your clothes?" Amma asked, her eyes widening as she took in the mud stains.
Leaning her head playfully to the side with deep affection for her mother, Sadiya pouted, "My Amma, a reckless car splashed gutter water all over me on my way back. But I will clean myself up right now." She pushed open one of the three grand doors leading off the wing's private living room into her bedroom.
Her private quarters were styled entirely in royal blue, flawlessly organized and filled with a rich, expensive fragrance. She placed her backpack in its designated storage area and walked straight into her master bathroom. She stripped out of her stained uniform, placed the clothes—including her undergarments—into the washing machine, and washed them thoroughly until they were spotless before hanging them in the indoor drying area.
She then stepped under the hot shower, closing her eyes tightly. The moment she did, the image of the mysterious young man from earlier flashed vividly behind her eyelids. Her mind could see nothing but his striking silhouette, and her ears echoed with the heavy, melodious tone of his broken voice. Fighting through the overwhelming distraction, she finished her bath and stepped out wrapped in a plush towel, radiating the sweet scent of her luxury soaps.
Standing before her vanity mirror, she blow-dried her thick, luxurious black hair, which cascaded all the way down to the center of her back, and quickly applied her lotions. She dressed in a crisp, pure white designer gown, spraying her body with expensive perfumes. Finally, she strapped her luxury watch back onto her wrist, adjusted her medical glasses, draped a black veil over her shoulders, and walked back out into the living area.
### Section 4: A Mother's Jealousy and the Secret Dynamic of Sadiya's Family
As Sadiya walked out into the living room checking her Samsung smartphone, she nearly collided with a young man. She took a quick step back, her face lighting up with a wide smile as she looked up at Faruq, who was beaming down at her.
"Yaya Faruq! When did you return?" she asked joyfully.
He opened his arms wide and teased playfully, “Right around the time my little Ammie completely forgot about my existence!”
*(Note: Faruq was the son of Sadiya's paternal aunt—her father's late sister. His mother had passed away after giving birth to only two children, which prompted Sadiya's father, Daddy, to honor his late sister's memory by naming his own only daughter Halimatus Sadiya).*
Sadiya laughed, "I swear I could never forget about you, Yaya!" She stepped aside to let him proceed into the inner rooms to greet Amma, while she walked into the central grand parlor of the mansion.
There, she found **Hajiya Mama** (her father's senior wife) sitting imperiously on a luxury chair, aggressively clicking through TV channels with a remote control, her face twisted in a deep scowl.
Sadiya knelt down respectfully and greeted, “Good afternoon, Mama. Welcome back.”
Instantly, Hajiya Mama’s face transformed, her scowl vanishing into a sweet, forced smile as she replied, “Ah, my blessed child! Are you just returning from the Quranic memorization school (*Tahfeez*)?”
Sadiya nodded in affirmation. Just then, she spotted her father, **Daddy**, stepping through the main entrance of the palace. Her face erupted in joy, and she ran toward him, taking his heavy briefcase from his hand. “My Daddy, welcome back from work!”
He patted her head affectionately, drawing her into a tight, loving embrace. “Good afternoon, my little princess. How was your Tahfeez class today?”
In a soft, disciplined tone, she replied, “Alhamdulillah (Praise be to Allah), it went very well.”
A wave of bitter, suffocating jealousy burned through Hajiya Mama’s chest as she watched Daddy hold Sadiya so closely. Her heart felt as though it would leap out of her throat due to the intense resentment she harbored; Hajiya Mama had never been able to conceive children of her own in this household, and Sadiya was Daddy's only child and heir in the entire world.
Forcing a pleasant expression onto her face to mask her internal malice, Hajiya Mama smiled and said, “Sadiya's Daddy, welcome back. How was the office today?”
Smiling warmly at his wife, he replied, “Everything went perfectly, Halimatu's Hajiya. How has my little troublemaker been treating you today?”
Hajiya Mama laughed softly, “Oh, you know that since she had Tahfeez today, her troublemaking was kept to a minimum, but she is preparing to start it up right now!”
They all laughed together. Hajiya Mama then took the briefcase from Sadiya’s hand, and she alongside Daddy walked into the master suite of the grand parlor.
### Section 5: Abu Bilal's Fractured Home and Bilal's Departure
Meanwhile, across town, the narrative shifts to Abu Bilal's household. The moment he stepped into his modest family compound, he violently kicked a plastic bucket out of his path in a fit of residual frustration.
**Mama Uwani** (his stepmother) jumped to her feet in a rage, adjusting her headscarf as she prepared to scream at whoever dared to kick her property. However, her anger froze instantly when she saw it was Abu Bilal.
An elderly uncle named **Datti** burst into a mocking laugh and taunted, “Look at you, Uwani, always full of useless screaming! The person who kicked your bucket isn't someone low like me whom you can look down upon—it is the master of the house himself! Look how you've gone completely silent, as if water has filled your mouth.”
Mama Uwani narrowed her eyes and snapped back defensively, “Well, I am still in the right, because he isn't the one who bought that bucket for me!”
Abu Bilal didn't grant either of them a single glance. He marched past them toward his private wing. Just then, his five-year-old son, Bilal, came running out of the house, throwing his little arms around his father's waist from behind.
**Sudeis** (Abu Bilal's actual name) closed his eyes tightly, a wave of profound emotion washing through his chest. He knew that in this entire harsh world, only his innocent little boy possessed the power to touch his heart like this. Letting his cold, stern facial expression soften slightly, he turned around, lifted the boy high into the air, and held him close.
Bilal let out a joyful laugh, wrapping his arms around his father's neck. “Welcome home, my Abba!”
Sudeis pulled the boy against his broad chest, kissing his forehead tenderly. "Thank you," he murmured. He then fell silent, his speech impediment making him hesitant to say more.
Understanding his father’s silent nature perfectly despite his young age, Bilal quickly filled the silence, babbling happily: “My Tahfeez class was great, Alhamdulillah! I read so much today, Abba! And today, a beautiful Aunty fixed my shoes for me at school!”
Suddenly, Datti interrupted them from across the yard, grumbling loudly, “You walk into this compound and the first thing you do is cause destruction, without even granting us a greeting or a basic Islamic salam! I swear, Aliyu, your character is completely warped. You do nothing but bring misery to this family.”
Sudeis squeezed his eyes shut in intense frustration, biting down hard on his lower lip until it almost bled. He snapped his head around, directing a lethal, burning glare toward Datti. Terrified by the sheer violence in his bloodshot eyes, Mama Uwani bolted back into her bedroom, trembling with fear, while Datti scrambled to grab his slippers, preparing to flee the compound entirely.
At the gate, Datti nearly collided with **Aunty Aysha** (Abu Bilal’s elite older sister). She was impeccably dressed in highly expensive, luxurious garments, radiating wealth and high status. She shared an undeniable, striking physical resemblance with Sudeis. With a warm smile on her face, she stepped into the compound and teased, “Oh my, Uncle Datti! Why are you running away with your slippers in your hand? It looks like you've triggered my brother's famous temper today!”
Datti blinked nervously, forcing a wide, sycophantic grin, knowing that Aysha’s arrival meant he could beg her for money. He grumbled insincerely, “Oh, let it be, Aysha! Aliyu does nothing but mistreat me. Allah knows I have never even given him a bad look in his life.”