Under the scorching sun, everyone who hunts you is prepared for you.
A black Highlander jeep was speeding fast across the asphalt road, as if the road had been made for the driver alone.
On both sides of the highway there was nothing but Sahara sand and scattered dry trees. It was night; the moon was full, brightening everything, and the stars decorated the sky beautifully. The road cut through the desert, where the sand gave the air a strange, dry coolness.
“How many kilometers do we have left?” someone asked.
The driver turned and looked at the speaker, whose face was completely covered with a turban.
“Not more than 95 kilometers,” he replied.
“In a few minutes?”
“Less than one hour.”
“We must arrive exactly at the time we were ordered. I’m afraid he might wake up.”
He shone a light on the face of a young man lying against him. The boy was sweating heavily, unconscious—half asleep, half fainted. His chest rose and fell slowly; his breathing was weak and labored.
He placed his hand on the young man’s chest. The heartbeat was slow but powerful, as if it would burst through his ribs.
“Lowalli, increase the speed. His heartbeat is slowing down. We must not lose him.”
Lowalli nodded and sped up the vehicle.
6:15 a.m., Saturday
In a well‑built underground room decorated with luxury, a young woman lay asleep on a mattress. Only a thin wrapper covered her nakedness.
She struggled to wake up but could not move. She was experiencing sleep paralysis, what people call Dannau in Hausa—the feeling of being pressed down by an unseen force while fully conscious.
Suddenly, it was as if the heavy weight was lifted. She gasped and sat up, breathing hard. Morning light filled the room.
She realized she had not prayed Fajr. Her body ached, as though she had been beaten.
She could not remember what happened the night before. She remembered folding clothes… then nothing.
Suspicious and uneasy, she went to the bathroom to clean up and pray.
The Young Man Awakens
Slowly, the young man opened his eyes. The light hurt him. Everything felt strange, like he had entered a different world.
A tall dark man with a red turban entered the tent holding a small cup. He rushed to him.
“How are you feeling?”
The young man stared silently.
“Are you in pain?”
“Where am I?” he finally asked.
“We are in Nigeria now.”
“Nigeria?”
“Yes.”
“Do you recognize me?”
He shook his head.
“Do you know your name?”
He couldn’t remember. His head started pounding.
“Do you know how to pray?”
He nodded.
“So you remember Islam, but not your past.”
“Yes.”
“Then perform ablution and pray. We came a long way from Niger.”
He obeyed.
After eating and drinking tea, the man wrapped his long hair and turbaned him, then led him outside.
A camel was waiting.
“What is this?”
“Camel,” he replied in French.
“Good. Let’s go.”
They mounted and disappeared into the desert.
---
Nana’s World
Nana walked slowly through muddy streets. Heavy rain had destroyed many houses. Half of her family’s wall had collapsed. Their well had also sunk.
Her father told her to use her small salary to help rebuild the wall.
“Baba, my salary is only seven thousand naira, and you already took five thousand,” she said.
He shouted at her. Her mother also joined the argument.
Heartbroken, Nana went into her room silently.
That night they slept with half the wall open.
The next day, Nana went to Islamic school. During class, she suddenly felt cold and dizzy. Fear filled her heart.
She panicked.
The teacher noticed.
Later, Nana quietly left the school.
---
Nana Disappears
By evening, Nana had not returned home.
Her father searched everywhere.
No one had seen her.
Nana herself walked aimlessly under the hot sun, barefoot, desperate to escape whatever fear was chasing her.
She entered a random house and collapsed asleep inside a room.
A young man entered the house and saw her sleeping. His evil thoughts were rising…
Just then, the owner of the house returned and called out.
He stepped back.
The woman saw Nana lying there, injured and unconscious.
Under the scorching sun, everyone who hunts you is prepared for you.
A black Highlander jeep was speeding fast across the asphalt road, as if the road had been made for the driver alone.
On both sides of the highway there was nothing but Sahara sand and scattered dry trees. It was night; the moon was full, brightening everything, and the stars decorated the sky beautifully. The road cut through the desert, where the sand gave the air a strange, dry coolness.
“How many kilometers do we have left?” someone asked.
The driver turned and looked at the speaker, whose face was completely covered with a turban.
“Not more than 95 kilometers,” he replied.
“In a few minutes?”
“Less than one hour.”
“We must arrive exactly at the time we were ordered. I’m afraid he might wake up.”
He shone a light on the face of a young man lying against him. The boy was sweating heavily, unconscious—half asleep, half fainted. His chest rose and fell slowly; his breathing was weak and labored.
He placed his hand on the young man’s chest. The heartbeat was slow but powerful, as if it would burst through his ribs.
“Lowalli, increase the speed. His heartbeat is slowing down. We must not lose him.”
Lowalli nodded and sped up the vehicle.
6:15 a.m., Saturday
In a well‑built underground room decorated with luxury, a young woman lay asleep on a mattress. Only a thin wrapper covered her nakedness.
She struggled to wake up but could not move. She was experiencing sleep paralysis, what people call Dannau in Hausa—the feeling of being pressed down by an unseen force while fully conscious.
Suddenly, it was as if the heavy weight was lifted. She gasped and sat up, breathing hard. Morning light filled the room.
She realized she had not prayed Fajr. Her body ached, as though she had been beaten.
She could not remember what happened the night before. She remembered folding clothes… then nothing.
Suspicious and uneasy, she went to the bathroom to clean up and pray.
The Young Man Awakens
Slowly, the young man opened his eyes. The light hurt him. Everything felt strange, like he had entered a different world.
A tall dark man with a red turban entered the tent holding a small cup. He rushed to him.
“How are you feeling?”
The young man stared silently.
“Are you in pain?”
“Where am I?” he finally asked.
“We are in Nigeria now.”
“Nigeria?”
“Yes.”
“Do you recognize me?”
He shook his head.
“Do you know your name?”
He couldn’t remember. His head started pounding.
“Do you know how to pray?”
He nodded.
“So you remember Islam, but not your past.”
“Yes.”
“Then perform ablution and pray. We came a long way from Niger.”
He obeyed.
After eating and drinking tea, the man wrapped his long hair and turbaned him, then led him outside.
A camel was waiting.
“What is this?”
“Camel,” he replied in French.
“Good. Let’s go.”
They mounted and disappeared into the desert.
---
Nana’s World
Nana walked slowly through muddy streets. Heavy rain had destroyed many houses. Half of her family’s wall had collapsed. Their well had also sunk.
Her father told her to use her small salary to help rebuild the wall.
“Baba, my salary is only seven thousand naira, and you already took five thousand,” she said.
He shouted at her. Her mother also joined the argument.
Heartbroken, Nana went into her room silently.
That night they slept with half the wall open.
The next day, Nana went to Islamic school. During class, she suddenly felt cold and dizzy. Fear filled her heart.
She panicked.
The teacher noticed.
Later, Nana quietly left the school.
---
Nana Disappears
By evening, Nana had not returned home.
Her father searched everywhere.
No one had seen her.
Nana herself walked aimlessly under the hot sun, barefoot, desperate to escape whatever fear was chasing her.
She entered a random house and collapsed asleep inside a room.
A young man entered the house and saw her sleeping. His evil thoughts were rising…
Just then, the owner of the house returned and called out.
He stepped back.
The woman saw Nana lying there, injured and unconscious.
“Nana! What happened to you?”
Nana did not respond.
Her feet were bleeding.