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With a screech, the car pulled up right in front of the school gate. The security guard quickly jumped up from his seat, opened the gate recognizing the car, and raised a hand to greet whoever was inside, but the car ignored him. With a harsh screech of the brakes, it came to a halt right next to the grand hall where students had gathered to write their WAEC examinations.
The back door opened. A few seconds passed before a single leg stepped out of the car. All the students' attention shifted to her, even though they were already used to it.
She stepped her other foot out, wearing white socks and expensive black Toms shoes. Then she slowly emerged from the car. She wore a white mini hijab, a white top, and black trousers; the uniform looked breathtakingly good on her, bringing out her natural beauty. This was Zahra, eighteen years old.
Her face was adorned with black sunglasses. She pushed the glasses down slightly from her eyes to the bridge of her nose, surveying her surroundings with a glance.
She stood up from the car door and closed it. As if she hated touching the ground, she walked gracefully toward the driver. Speaking as though forced to, she opened her mouth and said,
"You can wait for me, because we won't be long today."
"Very well, Hajiya," he replied respectfully.
"Hey Fatima!"
The voice interrupted her focus.
She turned slowly, watching them as they approached.
She flashed a confident smile.
"Point of correction… Asiya," she said softly. "My name is Zahra, not Fatima."
Asiya and Saudat looked at each other and burst into laughter.
"Hey Pretty!" Saudat added.
Zahra tilted her head slightly with a smile and said, "Yes… it's practically written all on my face."
Then her expression shifted, turning serious.
"Asiya… my exam card and pen?"
"They're in your bag," Asiya answered.
She nodded.
Her phone began to ring.
She pulled it out of her trouser pocket and answered the call. Her friends looked at each other with questioning looks—who could that be? But none of them knew the answer.
Once she finished the call, she lowered the phone from her ear.
"Zahra, did you change your phone?" Saudat asked.
A proud, arrogant smile appeared on her face.
"When do people ever hype the iPhone 16 Pro… when the 17 is already out?" She raised an eyebrow slightly. "Abba changed it for me yesterday."
Her friends congratulated her.
The bell rang for students to enter the hall.
Students rushed toward the verification point before entering the hall.
But Zahra… headed in the direction of an office in a different wing.
"Hey you! Don't you see other students entering the hall?" a new teacher reprimanded her.
She stopped dead in her tracks, turned around, crossed her arms, and adjusted her posture.
She looked him straight in the eyes with absolute confidence.
"Aren't you going to head toward the exam hall?" he asked again.
Slowly, she opened her mouth, speaking as if forced to do so.
"Excuse me… do I look like someone who would take an exam in that hall? With thousands of people? No air… no fan?"
The teacher was left speechless, frozen in shock.
She turned and walked away with haughty elegance, as if it hadn't been a teacher who had just stopped her.
A teacher standing behind remarked, "Leave her be… she writes her exams in the office, she's a special student."
Two hours later… students began streaming out of the exam hall, including her friends.
As for her… she calmly walked out of the office.
She bumped into a teacher she had disliked from the start because of the way he looked at her.
"Ah… the pretty girl," he said with a smile. "Are you done already?"
She glanced at him once, looked away, and said, "Yes," before walking past him.
"Let's go," she told her friends when she reached where they were calling her.
"I have a modeling gig later. I want to go home and rest… it's been a while since I posted on Instagram."
They got into the car, and she sat in the front passenger seat.
"Drive fast… I don't want slow motion," she ordered the driver.
The car sped off just as she commanded.
As they drove through a neighborhood where a single glance made it obvious that the residents were struggling with life, she pointed to a specific street and said, "Stop." The driver parked. She stepped out, walked around, and opened the boot.
She lifted a large polythene bag.
She walked into a small alley leading to a rundown house that clearly showed signs of poverty.
She greeted the occupants, and a little boy ran out, jumped with joy upon seeing her, and shouted, "Anty!"
"Shh…" she said with a smile.
She placed the bag down and said, "Go call your mama and show her the bag when she comes out."
Without waiting for thanks… she turned back and got into the car.
They continued driving until they dropped off each of her friends at their respective homes.
When she arrived home, she stepped out of the car. A man of about 65 was standing in the compound, about to get into a car, with his phone pressed to his ear. She ran over and hugged him.
He lowered his phone, kissed her forehead, and said, "Baby, how were the exams?"
She replied, "Alhamdulillah, my Abba."
He said, "May God grant you success. I'm heading out, we'll talk when I return."
She nodded with a smile and waved bye-bye.
She walked further into the compound.
A woman in her mid-50s was standing there in expensive clothes, alongside a young man around 30, and a 22-year-old young woman who was approaching them.
She looked at the young man and ran to hug him. He lifted her up into the air, laughing. "When are you ever going to gain weight, Zahra? Look, you don't even have any weight to you!"
She retorted, "Well, who told you I want to get fat?"
She looked at the woman with a straight face and said, "Mummy, good afternoon."
She replied coldly, "Fine."
She looked at the young woman and said, "Anty Batoul," but the woman didn't even acknowledge her and walked right past.
She looked at Yaya Umar and said, "Yaya, let me go inside."
Smiling, he said, "Go and rest."
Mummy shot her a heavy glare as she walked past.
Mummy turned to the young man and said, "Damn you, if you don't stop touching that girl, I'll deal with you, you fool."
He replied, "Mummy, what's wrong with that?"
She left him standing there and walked ahead toward the car, but then changed her mind and followed Zahra into their large parlor.
Zahra walked with her usual slow, deliberate gait.
Mummy stopped in her tracks, her eyes following Zahra until she disappeared upstairs.
Her face was hardened, though not just with ordinary anger.
She took a slow breath.
Then she turned and walked over to a chair in the back, sitting down slowly as if all her strength had been drained.
Yaya Umar, who had followed her closely, looked at her in confusion. "Mummy… are you alright?"
She didn't answer him.
Instead, she slowly raised her hand, gesturing for him to be quiet.
A profound silence filled the living room once again.
Mummy reached into her designer bag and pulled out her phone.
For a moment… she just stared at the screen.
Like someone making a heavy decision or hesitating over what to do.
Then she dialed a number.
The phone rang for a while.
Finally, it was answered. Without any greetings, Mummy spoke in a cold voice unlike anything ever heard from her before:
"She's back."
Silence from the other end.
Then a heavy voice replied, "Are you sure?"
Mummy closed her eyes for a few seconds.
"What do you mean? What my own eyes are telling me isn't a lie."
Yaya Umar stepped closer to her, looking bewildered. "Mummy… who are you talking to?"
She waved her hand at him quickly without looking at his face. "Get out."
He stood frozen and said, "Mummy......"
"I said get out!"
Her voice pierced the room, though not with her usual anger.
A hidden fear laced her tone.
Yaya Umar stared at her for a few seconds, then turned and walked out slowly.
Seeing that he had left, Mummy lowered the phone from her ear slowly.
But she didn't end the call.
The voice from the other end spoke again.
"You were already told that this day would come."
Her breathing hitched slightly.
She said quietly, "I thought… we were done with that."
A small, cold chuckle came through the phone.
"You're playing a dangerous game, but everything is about to fall apart."
Mummy's hand began to shake slightly.
She gripped the arm of the chair tightly.
"What do you want this time?"
Silence for a moment.
Then the answer came slowly… but heavily.
"Not what we want... but what she remembers."
The words struck her deeply.
"She remembers?"
The voice continued,
"And if she remembers... We know what follows next."
The call disconnected.
The parlor fell silent once more.
But this time… it was a heavy silence that weighed down on her heart. Mummy sat motionless.
Her eyes fixed on a single spot. Slowly, she whispered, "Oh God…"
Then she raised her head, looking toward the direction of Zahra's room upstairs.
Her eyes were filled with something that wasn't quite hate, nor was it love…
It was fear.
Fear she had spent a long time hiding.
She muttered under her breath, "Did you really… forget everything… or are you just playing games with us?"
Meanwhile, upstairs, Zahra walked into her room, threw herself onto her luxurious bed, and closed her eyes.
The bathroom door opened, and Mami walked out smiling. "Oh, coming back exhausted today, huh?"
Zahra replied, "Yes Mami… and those maids haven't even finished cooking, I'm starving, wallahi."
Mami said, "Alright, let me make you some oats to drink while they finish up."
THE PRICE OF ELEGANCE (FARASHIN IZZAH)
Follow us to find out the continuation of Fatima Zahra's story. Who is she? Who is entering her life?
#Jiddatulkhayr writes
Chapter 1
Tik... tik... tik...
The sound of the bedroom clock was the only thing piercing the silence of the house, announcing that it was 12:00 midnight.
Right at that moment, she jolted out of her deep thoughts, as if waking from a heavy dream. Slowly, she lifted her head, and her eyes landed on the wall clock.
Seeing the time made her heart feel heavy. Before she even realized it, tears that had welled up in her eyes spilled over, streaming down her cheeks like an open tap.
She stood up calmly and walked over to the parlor window. Reaching for the curtain, she pulled it aside slightly. Despite the darkness of the night, the compound lights cast a bright, eye-catching glow, making it look as though it weren't night at all. The house was impeccably neat and beautiful, but her heart was filled with darkness.
She pulled herself away from the window and turned toward the stairs. She walked down them slowly, like someone afraid that any movement might expose a secret she was hiding in her heart.
When she reached the door of her room, she gently gripped the handle and turned it. Before stepping inside, she stopped dead in her tracks and turned toward the master bedroom directly opposite hers... she stood there for a moment, as if trying to remember something, but then shook her head and slipped into her own room.
She shed her clothes, wrapped herself in a towel, and headed to the bathroom. She didn't take long before coming out, but she didn't apply any lotion. Looking at her, one could tell that her body was present, but her mind was far away, in a world few could reach.
She simply sprayed some perfume and put on her nightwear. She walked toward the bed, and although it was neatly made, she dusted it off again before lying down, searching for a peace she hadn't found.
She recited her bedtime prayers, wiped her body, and glanced at the clock.
12:55 AM.
She closed her eyes, placed her hand on her chest, and whispered in a frail voice:
"Ya Allah… ease this state that I am in..."
Tears fell again. She wiped them quickly, turned over, and closed her eyes.
Yet… sleep refused to come.
As if in a dream, she heard the sound of the gate opening. She sat up hurriedly, walked to the bedroom window, and lifted the curtain slightly.
It was his car.
A smile slipped onto her face—the kind of smile that was hard to interpret. You couldn't quite tell what her expression meant.
She let the curtain fall back and lay down as if nothing had happened.
Outside, he stepped out of his car with the composure of someone accustomed to power. His walk oozed authority as he headed into the house like someone who disliked touching the ground.
He walked straight to the kitchen. He picked up a bottle of water, opened it, tilted it to his mouth, and began to drink.
Kittt…
The sound of a bedroom door opening reached her ears.
Immediately, she closed her eyes, resting her head back on the pillow as if she were fast asleep.
He placed his phone aside, undressed, and headed to the bathroom.
The moment he entered the bathroom, she opened her eyes slowly. She sat up, her eyes locking onto his phone. She stared at it as though searching for the answer to a troubling question.
She didn't know how long she sat like that… until she heard him stepping out.
Quickly, she lay back down and closed her eyes.
He stood in front of the mirror, wiping the water from his hair. From there, he walked to the wardrobe, pulled out pajamas, and put them on.
Then he walked toward the bed.
He stood watching her for a few moments… his eyes analytical, as if trying to grasp something unexpressed.
Eventually, he lay down.
Before long, the rhythm of his breathing changed, signaling that sleep had claimed him.
Slowly, she opened her eyes.
She sat up.
Her eyes landed on him… and she curled her lip in disdain.
Eventually, sleep overtook her. Early the next morning, her alarm woke her up. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and slowly recited:
Bismillahil ladhi ahyana ba'da ma amatana wa ilayka an-nushur.
After swinging her legs to the floor, she headed to the bathroom to make wudu. Coming out, she spread her prayer mat and began the two units of Fajr prayer. While sitting, she heard him wake up, head to the bathroom, and then leave through the door. Hearing the iqamah for congregational prayer, she started her own prayer. After completing it, she remained on her prayer mat until 6:30 AM making supplications, then stood up and headed to the kitchen.
Thoughts of what food to prepare crossed her mind, and she began peeling potatoes. Shortly after, she heard the kitchen door open, and he walked in. He stood by the kitchen doorway; she didn't even raise her head to greet him. He folded his arms, looking at the absurdity of it all, and said as if hesitant to speak:
"Weren't you taught how to greet people in your family?"
Equally unbothered, she opened her mouth slowly and replied:
"Well, you know very well that my family has good upbringing."
He shot her a scathing look and said:
"What do you mean, Zahra?"
Curtly, she replied, "Did you hit a nerve?"
He turned and walked away from the doorway, moving toward his room as if trying to reach the sky.
She finished breakfast, set it out on the dining table, and went back to her room to bathe. Just as she stepped out, he was walking past toward the parlor door. She glanced at the untouched dining table and asked:
"Are you just going to leave without having breakfast?" Without even looking at her as he adjusted his briefcase,
He walked out without acknowledging her.
She sat down unplaned. Cupping her chin in her hands, she stared blankly into space, her heart filled with thoughts: What kind of life has this become?
Slowly, she closed her eyes, wondering if this was what marriage was truly about.
She stood up and walked to the dining table. Feeling no appetite at all, she simply poured some tea into a cup and drank it. Afterward, she set the cup down and returned to her room. She tidied up, swept, and even washed the bathroom. When she was done, she burned some incense, and the room was instantly filled with a sweet fragrance.
She picked up her phone, sat on the edge of the bed, and lay down after turning on her mobile data. Opening Instagram, she saw that her comments and DMs had skyrocketed. People were still congratulating her on her wedding.
She let out a sigh.
Her follower count had surged massively due to trending all month. Seeing she had hit 1 million followers, she let out another sigh.
She had been tagged in a post. She opened the account…
And saw that he had posted a video of their afterparty with a romantic caption.
For five full minutes, she stared at the caption.
She didn't like the post… nor did she reply, unlike how she used to do during their wedding week.
Slowly, she turned off her data and tossed the phone aside.
Thoughts enveloped her once again. Is this what marriage is? Or is mine different? Why does he portray himself to the world as the luckiest man… while…?
Uninvited tears filled her eyes and began to stream down softly. Sleep eventually claimed her in that state.
Around 11:00 AM, a phone vibration woke her up. She picked it up; it was Suhaima.
Rubbing her eyes, she answered with a greeting.
"Amarya (Bride), don't tell me you were sleeping and I woke you up?"
Zahra replied, "No… I didn't realize when I dozed off. He left for work early yesterday anyway."
Suhaima said, "Well, come and open the gate for us, we're outside."
"Really?" she asked.
She quickly sat up and hurried downstairs. As she neared the gate, she met the security guard coming out to open it while mentioning he needed to use the restroom, but she said, "I've already come, Baba."
When she opened the gate, she saw them standing there, each wearing a smile. She hugged them, saying, "Come inside."
Saudat looked around the house out of the corner of her eye. With a beaming smile, Zahra led them into the parlor.
As they walked in, Asiya remarked, "Now I know I'm in Fatima-Zahra's house. You and the scent of cleanliness can never be separated. The groom is indeed lucky."
They all laughed.
But the moment Saudat stepped into the parlor… her expression instantly changed.
Zahra said, "Saudat, you're the only one who hasn't seen my house yet. I didn't want the wedding to pass without you visiting."
Saudat simply replied, "It's fine."
Zahra fell silent, staring at her in shock because her response caught her off guard.
Suhaima chimed in, "My problem with you is that. Can't you even show a little excitement? Didn't you look at the house properly? Look at this place, it doesn't even feel like we're in this country."
Pulling her phone from her bag, Saudat said, "I see it. The house is nice… what's left is peace of mind..."
The words lingered in Zahra's mind, and she stared at her in utter disbelief.
Suhaima stepped closer to Zahra, stroking her arm. "Zahra, you look really good… but you've lost weight. Could it be a pregnancy?"
Instantly, Saudat raised her head to look at her.
Asiya added, "That's what I was thinking too."
Zahra frowned. "I am not pregnant! How long has the wedding even been that a pregnancy would show?" Then she quickly changed the subject. "Where did you leave Firdausi?"
Asiya replied, "Her mother hasn't been well, that's why she's staying with her. She even sold her phone, you know."
Zahra asked in shock, "What do you mean? She sold her phone?"
Suhaima said, "It seems her mother's illness has gotten worse."
Zahra shook her head. "Couldn't she tell us so we could help? What's the point of friendship then?"
Suhaima replied, "Well, responsibilities..."
Zahra cut her off. "No. It's not too much."
Right then, she picked up her phone and transferred ₦80,000 to Firdausi's account.
Raising her head, she said, "Please, Suhaima, stop by her house and tell her I sent her money. She should buy a phone, even a small one, and use the rest for her mother's treatment before I come visit."
Suhaima nodded.
Asiya sighed. "Oh dear… a friend like you is one of a kind."
Suhaima agreed, "Wallahi."
Zahra tapped Saudat. "Are you alright? You've been so quiet."
Saudat replied, "I'm fine."
Zahra let it go.
She told them, "Go to the kitchen and cook."
Suhaima gasped, "You're making us cook in your house?"
Zahra glared at her. "Aren't you women?"
Asiya retorted, "Oh please! You should be the one cooking for us."
Zahra replied, "I don't even want to smell food right now."
They laughed.
Suhaima joked, "Okay, that settles it—you are pregnant!"
Zahra ignored them and went back to lie down.
They headed to the kitchen.
Saudat also stood up. "I'm leaving… I have somewhere to be."
Zahra couldn't say anything, unsettled by Saudat's strange demeanor.
As she stepped out, Suhaima poked her head out and said, "See? You're starting to believe what I told you about her."
Zahra answered, "Enough. Go and cook, I'm going to take a nap."
She didn't wake up until after Zuhr prayer.
Asiya and the others had finished cooking, eaten, made smoothies, and even washed the dishes.
After prayer, she came downstairs and found them watching TV.
They began preparing to leave.
Just at that moment… the parlor door opened.
In walked Ibrahim.
Suhaima exclaimed, "Oh look, it's the groom!"
He sat down, and they greeted him cheerfully.
Zahra couldn't take her eyes off him as he laughed and showed them warmth.
When they finished exchanging pleasantries, they announced they were leaving.
He said, "Are you leaving right when I got here?"
Suhaima replied, "No, we were already packed to go when you walked in."
He pulled out some cash and handed it to them. "Take this for transport."
Suhaima accepted it on their behalf and expressed their gratitude.
Zahra said, "Thank you. Greet your families." Smiling, they bid their farewells.
After they left, Asiya murmured softly, "I still don't like Ibrahim Khalil as Zahra's husband… but since they're married now, there's nothing we can do."
Suhaima added, "Me too. But since I see he has money… I'm happy for her. Zahra deserves everything and more."
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#Jiddatulkhayr writes #08110615256 FARASHIN IZZAH
Summary
The story revolves around Fatima Zahra, an 18-year-old girl from an extremely wealthy, high-class family, known for her elegance, confidence, and uncompromising standards. Zahra writes her WAEC exams in a private office rather than a crowded hall due to her status. Despite her wealth, luxury cars, designer items, and social media popularity, she is secretly troubled and lonely.
She is married to Ibrahim Khalil, a wealthy and powerful man, but their marriage is cold, distant, and devoid of genuine affection. Ibrahim ignores her emotional needs, and their interactions are formal and tense. Meanwhile, Zahra's stepmother (Mummy) harbors deep secrets and fears. Mummy receives a mysterious, threatening phone call indicating that someone from the past or a hidden truth is resurfacing, terrifying her as she watches Zahra.
Zahra maintains a glamorous exterior with her friends (Asiya, Suhaima, Saudat, and Firdausi), occasionally showing immense generosity—such as sending money to help a struggling friend—while remaining oblivious to the growing tension within her own marital home and household.
Analytics & Description
- Character Archetypes:
- Zahra: The privileged, confident, yet secretly vulnerable protagonist who masks her emotional turmoil behind wealth and cold perfection.
- Ibrahim Khalil: The aloof, wealthy husband representing emotional detachment and patriarchal control.
- Mummy: The antagonistic stepmother driven by anxiety, hidden pasts, and fear of exposure.
- The Friends: A dynamic circle displaying typical teenage loyalty, gossip, envy (hints of it in Saudat), and support.
- Core Themes: Class disparity versus inner emptiness, the illusion of perfection in modern marriage, hidden family secrets, and female agency.
- Tone & Style: Rich, descriptive contemporary Hausa fiction style utilizing vivid imagery, sensory details, and dramatic suspense.
