THE PLANTING OF ALLAH 🌳

EXQUISITE WRITERS FORUM
By Mai_Dambu...

DEDICATION: To the people who have always stood by us.

CHAPTER ONE (1)

DEEHAR

In the 17th century, before the arrival of Shehu Usmanu Danfodio.
They began without knowing how it would end. They coexisted, only to end up destroying mutual trust and loyalty. It was a tangled web of events that connected three distinct corners—and whenever three corners clash, a bitter outcome is inevitable. As the proverb goes: "A friend to two people is a hypocrite to one."
Deehar was situated within a territory blessed with the finest natural designs of the Almighty. It was a place prepared by Allah to look like a lush paradise, densely packed with abundant natural resources. The original inhabitants of the Deehar region belonged to a tribe known as the Noye. They were simple farmers and herders with no grand worldly advancements to boast of. They were highly superstitious, deeply rooted in sorcery and idol worship.
As time passed, certain tribes from the Hausa region emerged from West Africa and migrated into Deehar. Upon their arrival, they found exactly what they were looking for. They soon realized that the region lacked centralized leadership. These Hausa settlers were refugees fleeing from wars, famine, and the crushing poverty ravaging their home territories.
Within the Noye tribe, there was a man they deeply trusted named Rana. Rana had spent a long time studying how to develop and elevate their land. Unfortunately, the Noye tribe did not believe in the system of governance and had no interest in leadership. Consequently, Rana held his tongue and remained silent. Rana was a highly renowned sorcerer in the Deehar region. The Noye people believed that Rana was the only man who communed with the Divine, which was why they never disputed his word; whatever he told them, they accepted.
In the year the Hausa tribe entered Deehar, Rana spent thirty-nine days in isolated spiritual seclusion performing sorcery. Upon emerging, he ordered that the settlers be driven out of the land.
They succeeded in expelling them from Deehar. However, after a few days, the settlers returned. A reconciliation was brokered with the help of another sorcerer named Yauta. It was Yauta who first suggested establishing a ruling system. The Noye people vehemently rejected it because they knew that leadership often carried oppression and injustice. They had raised their people and built their bloodlines on peaceful coexistence, where no individual was superior to another.
It was only after peace was brokered that Yauta, along with some of the Hausa settlers, organized a grand festival to formally establish the town, aided by a few members of the Noye tribe. They eventually agreed to a system where a mountain cave was set aside to construct a great house, intended to maintain peace and unity between the two tribes. What the people failed to realize about Yauta was that he was absolutely determined to rule over his people, as his divinations had confirmed to him that a dynasty would rule this region for centuries to come.
Because of this, before anyone knew what was happening, he went around to some of the prominent households of the Noye tribe, enticing them with this prospect and promising that once the monarchy was established, they would be the primary beneficiaries.
He spent ten long years covertly swaying the people before certain elements of the Noye tribe began to clamor for the initiation of a monarchy. The sorcerer Rana tried to show them the inherent dangers of this path. His spiritual insights had revealed that the Noye tribe could easily face erasure under a ruling system, forgotten entirely by the time the world came to an end. He warned them, but they refused to listen.
Yauta, who commanded spiritual jinn, had acquired a highly potent, secretive spiritual knowledge. Through this, he secured the full cooperation of the Hausa tribe. In the eleventh year, the construction of a massive, magnificent palace began, with labor continuing day and night without pause. It took ten years to complete, and when it was finally opened, it was named the Palace of the Deehar Emirate.
Upon the opening of the Deehar Emirate, a faction of the Noye tribe openly revolted, claiming they had never agreed to such an arrangement. Before anyone could blink, the blood of the populace began to flood the town of Deehar and its surrounding areas. Influential figures and elders who opposed the system were systematically slaughtered.
Among those killed was the sorcerer Rana. However, before he was executed, he gathered prominent figures who believed in their ancient ways—along with elders, children, and women. For three consecutive nights, they invoked an incredibly dangerous form of high sorcery. Although they were killed before the ritual was fully completed, they cursed the emirate with the very blood the Noye tribe had spilled. Within two weeks, construction began on massive fortification walls to encircle the entire town. A once-blessed land transformed into a reservoir of tears, tyranny, and malice, which deeply seeped into the hearts of the people. It took twenty-five years of forced labor from Noye women and youth to complete the fortification walls.
Thirty years after the establishment of this tyrannical and oppressive rule, the emirate woke up to find itself entangled in a mysterious, supernatural phenomenon. To this day, no one truly understands what transpired within the Deehar Palace.
This is the brief history of the founding of Deehar.
★★
In the 19th century, after the arrival of Shehu Usmanu Danfodio.
Slowly, he looked at his most trusted servant, fixing his gaze upon him intensely, before lowering his eyes and speaking in a soft, measured tone.
"Whoever despises the messenger will eventually find themselves running from the reality. When you see a man fleeing, he knows what pursues him," he uttered quietly.
The servant knelt down before responding, "Indeed, life is completely entangled in a blind, uncertain destiny."
"I will not force you, Musa," the King said. "However, out of malicious intent, you have worn the armor of war. This is your chance to assist me in a task I could not finish. If the sun sets in the west, then do what is necessary. But if the sun rises without the moon setting, distance yourself as far as the heavens are from the earth. Do not return to find me. The message has undoubtedly reached me, so go far out to pasture."
"Your will shall be done, Your Highness. Truth is stronger than an iron horse. If it is meant to be, by God's grace, history will repeat itself. The promise of Allah is absolute truth. We believe in Allah, as does anyone who holds faith in Him. May Allah grant you health and long life, King of the world, the one who shows mercy to his subjects."
On that cold, rainy night, King Hayatudeen passed away immediately after returning from a massive tour that lasted one hundred and five (105) days—roughly three months and some days.
Before a dime could change hands, news spread that His Royal Highness, King Hayatudeen Abdullahi Noye, was dead. He was the king who had spent seventy-eight years on the throne. No traditional ruler had ever attained such longevity in power, as he passed away at the age of ninety-nine.
....
In no time, the news of the demise of King Hayatudeen Abdullahi Noye spread far and wide—the just king who had strictly forbidden the oppression of the Noye tribe. In history, he was the only son of the Noye tribe who succeeded in ruling without spilling a single drop of blood, reigning entirely without tyranny. Both the commoners and the wealthy elites of Deehar mourned the passing of this just ruler. The entire population of the Noye Emirate wept bitterly, praying that Allah would grant them another leader as just as he was.
Within the Deehar Palace stood an ancient tree that was approximately five hundred years old. When the palace was originally built, this tree was left completely untouched. When the people gathered for his funeral prayer, a terrifying sight unfolded: the tree itself was wailing and shrieking aloud. Throughout his life, King Hayatudeen Abdullahi Noye frequently visited this tree to catch the evening breeze, and he was often seen sitting there late in the afternoon chatting. In the twentieth year of his reign, he had a royal canopy constructed beneath it. Later on, whenever he visited, people would bring him fresh produce and garden crops.
Slowly, the tree had been cordoned off and surrounded by various saplings, leading many to suspect that King Hayatudeen Abdullahi Noye shared a deep, mystical relationship with the unseen entities (spirits) inhabiting the area.
Because of this, many people had targeted him with malicious sorcery and evil charms, but none ever harmed him—right up until his death the previous night, which left many suspecting that he might have been assassinated rather than dying of natural causes.
After his funeral was concluded, the elders convened inside the inner palace. Unfortunately, among all the children of King Hayatudeen Abdullahi Noye, there was not a single able-bodied, healthy male who could be deemed fit to inherit the throne. They were either blind, crippled, or deaf-mute. This was the specific ancestral curse they had been battling since the very inception of the Deehar Emirate.
However, one particular thing silenced everyone—most notably the Waziri (Vizier), the Galadima (Prince/Senior Councillor), the Garkuwa (Shield/Defense Minister), the Alkali (Chief Judge), the Tafida, and the Sarkin Malamai (Chief of Clerics). They sat in absolute silence, listening to the explanation being delivered by the Sarkin Gida (Palace Controller) as he handed a document written on white deerskin over to the Maga Takarda (Chief Scribe).
“After greetings and due condolences on your return from the expedition. The deposit you left behind has sprouted and blossomed. If this message arrives on time, I await your signal.”
They stared at one another, and the faces of several officials darkened with immense rage.
"Which emirate was this message sent from? And where is Musa? For he alone knows everything," muttered the Galadima, his eyes darting around suspiciously.
"He has been searched for since yesterday, but he is nowhere to be found."
A heavy silence descended upon the palace court before they stood up, asserting, "This message clearly implies that Hayatudeen kept a woman elsewhere, and signs indicate she has conceived from their relationship! Which emirate did he visit before his return to Deehar?"
They remained silent, as no one could recall the exact kingdom the King had stopped at before arriving back in Deehar.
"If this is the case, then there is absolutely nothing we can do right now except wait for a year to see what unfolds. If it is a female child, so be it. If it is a male, we will determine how he can be raised within the palace," the Alkali decreed.
To some, this judgment felt as harsh as a death sentence. To them, a thousand death sentences were preferable to waiting for a child born to a woman King Hayatudeen had hidden away. Consequently, certain factions vowed that as long as they drew breath, no one would ever bring an offspring of the late king to rule over them.
After the palace assembly dismissed, they proceeded into the inner royal household to inform the various queens: Fulani Babba (the senior wife of King Hayatudeen), Magajiya (the second wife), Kilishi (the third wife), and Fulani Karama (the fourth and youngest bride). There were also three royal concubines he maintained: Kwarkwarah Lanta, Kwarkwarah Saro, and Kwarkwarah Zinaru.
Fulani Babba had five children: three daughters and two sons. Her sons were Yusif and Ado (popularly called Me Kano). Her eldest daughter, Bara'atu, was married into the Borno Emirate; Ummu Kulsum was married within Deehar; and Jamilah was married into the Kano Emirate.
Moving to Magajiya’s household, she had three sons and one daughter: Shamsudeen, Alkasim, and Muktari.
Looking closely at the conditions of these children: in Fulani Babba’s house, her son Yusuf was completely blind, and Ado was entirely deaf and unable to hear, just as Yusif was unable to see. In Magajiya’s house, Shamsudeen was completely paralyzed, unable to move and permanently bedridden. Alkasim was mute, completely unable to speak. Muntari was mentally incapacitated, unable to comprehend anything. Her sole daughter, Sailuba, was married to a wealthy merchant within Deehar.
Kilishi’s children were all female, so she faced no succession pressure, as her daughters—Balarabiya, Ikilima, and Shatu—had all been safely married off.
In Fulani Karama’s household, the situation was beyond words. Just like Magajiya, all five of her children were severely crippled or incapacitated. They included Usman (referred to as Shehu), Kabiru, and Ibrahim (known as the master of the slaves' quarters).
As for his concubines, Allah had not blessed them with children. Nevertheless, a vicious, toxic jealousy thrived within the household of King Hayatudeen, as every single woman convinced herself that she was the one the King loved above all others....

CHAPTER TWO (2)

The Quarters of Fulani Babba

This was an independent, sprawling royal apartment that housed approximately sixty-seven male and female slaves, a massive staff necessitated by the heavy, constant care required by her two incapacitated sons, Yusif and Ado.
Everywhere Galadima Sule walked, servants and slaves prostrated before him to offer their profound respects. He proceeded until he reached the grand quarters of Fulani Babba. He navigated through three massive inner courtyards before finally arriving at her main reception parlor, which was adorned with large, plush floor cushions arranged neatly over exquisite carpets. He removed his shoes and stepped inside.
"Assalamu alaikum!" he announced in his mature, elder voice.
"Waalaikumus Salam. How surprising—like a lost dog finding a piece of skewered meat, or a rare comet appearing. Knowing you brings calamity, and seeing you brings misfortune. What brings you here today while the rest of the kingdom is sitting in mourning for the late king?"
He paused, stunned, before letting out a dry scoff. "Hmm. Anyone who refuses to lick their fingers has simply not tasted the sweetness of the soup. Who told you that my presence is tied to disaster? My appearing before you is a grand gesture of goodwill and blessings."
"I wonder," she replied. "The elders say that a deaf person's dog gets lost when there is no whistle."
Just then, the Jakadiya (the chief female palace messenger) emerged and bowed flat before him, saying, "I beg your pardon, Galadima. Where you hear a man fearing the night, it means he was once bound and had to escape. My mistress welcomes you."
He nodded in acknowledgment and stepped further into the room. Fulani Babba was reclining elegantly, looking entirely unfazed by the death of her husband, her head held high with an intense aura of authority and aristocratic pride. He sat down before her. Even though he was her elder brother, he treated her with an immense, almost astonishing level of deference.
"I offer my deepest condolences," he said.
Only then did she raise her eyes to look at him for a few fleeting moments before looking down again, playing idly with the threads of her expensive Awalayo fabric. She offered a subtle smirk and said, "Because one does not reject provisions for a single day's journey, I am listening."
He adjusted his posture and glanced toward the doorway where the Jakadiya stood guard. Fulani Babba cast a look at her too; the messenger bowed her head respectfully and exited the room.
"Do you have any idea where this struggle we are locked in will end?" he whispered, dropping his voice low.
She exhaled sharply and replied, "No matter how much the midwife hurries, she must still wait for the baby to be born!"
He leaned in closer and lowered his voice even further. "It is not at all what you think! On the day of a ritual sacrifice, even a male goat becomes valuable."
She shot him an inquisitive look.
"The truth is, King Hayatudeen Abdullahi Noye acquired a concubine during his travels, and it is highly suspected that she is carrying his child."
Startled, she froze and locked her eyes onto him. If his eyes weren't deceiving him, he could swear he saw tears welling up in his sister’s eyes.
"What is the meaning of this? Your silence feels like a defeat to me," he pressed.
Tears streamed down her face. She closed her eyes tightly. Seeing this, he stood up and walked out. He knew that once she fell into this silence, she would not utter another syllable, nor would she offer him any closure. Fulani Babba was a woman whose true thoughts could never be read; that was precisely why she kept almost everyone at a cold, calculated distance. She remained seated there, and no one could ever discern what was truly eating her up inside.

The Quarters of Magajiya

She was the daughter of the Waziri of Deehar, and she was her father’s absolute favorite. He looked at her calmly and asked, "Did Hayatudeen mention to you which town he stopped at during his long expedition?"
She raised her head with a look of utter disdain on her face. "He didn't tell me anything. After all, he didn't stay in my quarters upon his return; he stayed with Kilishi."
"We have been incredibly careless, and the lion cub has grown into a beast," the Waziri warned. "He left a concubine behind, and word has it that she is pregnant with his heir. Many of the past rulers of Deehar were neither natives of this land nor born within this palace; they arrived here as grown men and took power."
She gave him an indifferent, detached look and went right back to what she was doing. "You know very well that I have no stakes in this power struggle, and involving myself will bring me no joy. I am already completely overwhelmed managing Shamsudeen and Muntari. I want absolutely no drama. Even if I were to contest it, he would never give my sons the right to rule. Since I stand to gain nothing from this, why should I stress myself? Let the beans mix with the pebbles."
With that, she completely shut down the conversation. When he weighed her words, he realized she spoke the brutal truth, so he bid her farewell and left.

The Quarters of Kilishi

Her maternal uncle, the Sarkin Malamai, entered her quarters. He offered her words of spiritual counsel before asking if she knew the final destination of the King's last expedition.
She remained silent for a moment, looking down at her young daughters, before replying, "I do not know. But his final stay upon returning from the tour was here in my quarters."
He stared at her intensely. "Nahira, I know your character well. You are simply choosing not to speak, but you absolutely know where His Royal Highness stopped on his final journey."
"By Allah, I do not know, Uncle," she insisted, keeping her eyes glued to the floor.
He dusted his hands off and walked out. Since she claimed not to know, there was no point in forcing her.
As for Fulani Karama, no one went to question her, primarily because she was a Fulani woman from the Emirate of Moddibo Adama in Yola, keeping her isolated from local palace politics.
An exhaustive interrogation was launched targeting all the slaves and maidservants who had accompanied King Hayatudeen Abdullahi Noye on his journey, but not a single soul could reveal where they had gone.
This development caused immense panic within the palace circles. To make matters worse, Musa had completely vanished off the face of the earth; there was no sign or word of him anywhere.
On the third day following the King's death, they brought forward a particular female slave who had been part of the expedition layout. However, in a bizarre twist of fate, when she was brought into the grand palace courtyard to be questioned, she found herself completely unable to speak. When they yelled at her, she jumped in terror, her eyes rolling wildly. Every time she opened her mouth to speak, her voice would completely fade into a raspy whisper. She tried desperately to state where they had stopped before King Hayatudeen dismissed them, but the words simply would not form.
"Flog her! Then throw her out. She is lying!" an official ordered.
However, many of the senior palace chiefs knew she wasn't lying. Those gifted with spiritual sight understood exactly where the problem lay: she would never be able to speak because powerful unseen spirits were guarding King Hayatudeen Abdullahi Noye’s secrets, shielding everything connected to his final days. Thus, despite her compliance, she was severely whipped and dragged out of the court.
Following this, a sacred leather scroll was brought forward. The Sarkin Gida handed it over to the Scribe, who began to read its contents aloud:

“I am pleased to write this brief account of my journey to reach my destination! In my heart and soul, I felt a deep longing to tour this world to find solace. This is despite the profound pain and exhaustion I have carried throughout the seventy-eight years of my reign. Yet, I have failed to understand the root cause of the physical deformities and curses that plague the royal household. I have conducted investigations among both the jinn and mankind, but the matter remains entirely baffling! Nevertheless, I have ventured out once more, hoping against hope to find a cure for the afflictions plaguing the House of Noye within the Deehar Emirate...”

The scribe turned to another page written in heavy black ink and continued reading:

“Certainly, in the remaining years of my life, I will strive to bring an end to this unending crisis of deformities plaguing the lineage of the Deehar Palace. However, I have no certainty that this is possible, for I have realized there is a deep-seated cause and origin to this curse! I will try my best to follow the path of my ancestors. Perhaps Allah will cause someone to arise who can stop this? But as it stands, I know that my entire lineage is afflicted with these deformities. With this, I wish you all the best.”
— HAYATUDEEN ABDULLAH NOYE

The council members stared at one another in absolute silence, for it was now indisputably clear that the late king had deliberately hidden a crucial piece of the puzzle.
The Alkali cleared his throat and addressed the gathering: "The late Hayatudeen traveled extensively through the major kingdoms of the Hausa lands. Therefore, we shall launch our investigations there. We will dispatch our emissaries to every corner. If it is confirmed that he left a pregnant concubine behind, she must be brought here so she can deliver the child under our watch, ensuring justice is done to all parties. No distribution of titles or power can take place until we locate this woman and determine our next course of action."
"May Allah relieve the people of this arduous task," the court chanted.
Trusted warriors of the Emirate were immediately commissioned and divided into search parties. They were given a strict deadline of forty days to track down and bring back any woman confirmed to be the late king's secret concubine.
What completely disorganized their calculations was the mysterious disappearance of Musa. He was completely gone, leaving no trail behind. Consequently, every faction within the palace was desperately praying to be the first to find the woman. Yet, surprisingly, despite the weeks spent traversing the entire region and scouring every surrounding emirate, no news surfaced. Even those who consulted powerful sorcerers and bori practitioners came up entirely empty-handed. Panic began to set in deeply.
★
In the deep recesses of a mystical dwelling, a group of palace conspirators sat before a powerful, terrifying sorcerer. He sat suspended in mid-air, completely detached from the ground, letting out a loud, mocking laugh before speaking to them:
"Go ahead and exhaust yourselves in vain. What is destined will surely come to pass, and I tell you, he has indeed secured his lineage. However, we will deploy our own unseen agents to wherever they are hiding to eliminate them for us. Rest assured, this monarchy and everything attached to it will eventually fall into your hands. But do not expect everything to go exactly as you desire.
It is highly likely that the blood guilt of his ancestors is manifesting as a dark shadow, one that will bring immense calamity and disaster. If you accept this truth and fulfill all its dark demands, it might serve as a shield for you."
"Oh, great leader," they replied bowing low. "We are entirely subservient to whatever you command us to do, even if it requires us to lay down our lives. All we want is for Deehar to become an untouchable superpower among its peers, a kingdom so fierce that all other emirates will tremble at the mere thought of confronting us."
"Consider it guaranteed," the sorcerer whispered.
★
It was now fifty days since the passing of King Hayatudeen Abdullahi Noye. Slowly, a group of royal horsemen rode into the palace gates. They moved with a hurried pace, steering their mounts directly toward the royal stables. After securing their horses, they rushed straight toward the palace courts.
As they entered the grand court, they prostrated heavily, trembling as they offered their royal greetings.
They looked up at the anxious council of chiefs and declared:
"Based on the investigation we were sent to conduct... we can say Alhamdulillah on one hand, though certain regions yielded absolutely no success. However, in a small, obscure town where we stopped just before returning to the emirate—"