The Alhaj burst into loud laughter. "Don't worry about knowing who I am because I already know who you are. Knowing the job you will do for me is what truly matters. I know you far better than what I’ve just told you; I've only scratched the surface of what I know about you. I want you to go back to the house where you resigned and resume your work. Every month, I will pay you a salary of fifty thousand naira, in addition to the twenty thousand naira they already pay you." He placed an envelope in front of him and continued, "This is the manual of tasks you are to perform for me at Alhaji Isma'il Jikamshi's house. I can give you one day to think about it, but you should know that even inside your bedroom, my eyes are on you. Therefore, I only need you to analyze this with your mind. Whenever I need to speak with you, I will reach out through this." He placed a phone on top of the envelope he had set before him. "I don't need your answer here right now; go and think it over. I bid you farewell. See him out." He concluded his instruction by looking at his men. With a look of intense fury and burning anger, Uncle Smart watched him leave. However, it seemed the young man's temper was so severely provoked that he was unable to utter a single word... Just as the Alhaj had ordered, they drove him back to the street in his neighborhood. Because Maghrib prayer had already passed, he hurried home to pour some water over his fatigued body. He found some of his younger brothers who had returned home. Those he met outside greeted him, and he acknowledged them with a wave of his hand before heading straight to his room. He was a very clean person with a stubborn streak of tidiness, so seeing his room just as he had left it made him hiss and lightly press his throbbing head. The substance they had forced him to inhale had still not fully worn off. For the first time, he searched his pockets for his phone and, to his relief, found it. He called his younger sister, Maryam. As they sat in the living room reading the Quran, the call came in. Asma'u, who was sitting next to the phone, eagerly exclaimed, "Look, it's Yaya!" Ammi and Maryam both turned to look at her, and she answered the call with a greeting of peace. He calmly responded in his firm voice—which some people misinterpreted as arrogance due to his quiet nature. Without giving her a chance to say anything else, he continued, "Can I get some hot water over there?" "Yes, Yaya," she replied respectfully. As she dropped the phone, Maryam asked, "Has he returned?" Asma'u nodded and said, "He's back. He asked me to bring him hot water; I think he wants to take a bath." Ammi let out a soft sigh of relief, though she said nothing to them and quietly continued her spiritual remembrance (adhkar). All day, their hearts had been heavy because he hadn't entered the house to greet them in the morning as he usually did. At first, Ammi assumed he had gone out for an errand, until she went to greet Abba, who lashed out at her with harsh words as he pleased. True to her nature, she kept quiet about her children when he raged like that, swallowing her feelings until he finished so she could apologize. However, his threat to throw Smart out of the house had deeply shaken her. She had even sent Maryam to check his room, only to find him absent and the door unlocked. She tried calling his phone, but it rang unanswered before eventually becoming completely unreachable. She had spent the entire day in distress alongside Asma'u and the others. When Asma'u brought him the hot water, she quickly tidied up the bathroom before he went in, and then she straightened his room as well. Before he emerged, she had finished and stepped out. Since Maghrib prayer had already been observed, he left his room shortly after coming out and headed to the mosque for Isha'i. After the prayer, he returned to the house. Abba had not yet come back, so he went straight into the inner quarters. True to his habit, he visited the rooms of all the wives in the house to greet them. He started with Aunty Amarya’s room. She was a cheerful woman who loved people, though she was also quite reserved. Even though he was roughly her age, it didn't stop him from showing her deep respect because of how respectfully she treated Ammi, acting more like a sister-wife than a rival. He greeted her respectfully, and she responded warmly. Her children, who had been busy in the living room, quieted down the moment he walked in. They all greeted him, and the youngest one rushed over to him to complain about her brother in the older room, claiming he broke her pencil while she was doing her homework. Quickly, the boy named Abbas interjected, "Our elder brother, she's lying! She broke her own pencil at school while fighting with Ameer." She burst into tears, insisting, "It's a lie, Yaya, it was him." He raised his hand, and they all instantly fell silent. Aunty Amarya remarked, "Honestly, if you don't beat some sense into them, Yayansu, our ears will never know peace. They've been bickering since earlier; I'm completely exhausted from talking." He scolded the children gently, advising Anisan to come to his room in the morning before leaving for school to collect a new pencil. From there, he stepped out and headed to Umma’s room. She was the second wife in the house, but because Ammah had experienced delays in childbearing, Umma’s children were older—most of them were already married. However, she still had two young daughters and two unmarried young men living at home. She answered his greeting somewhat curtly, but he didn't mind since it wasn't unusual for her. Nusaiba, her youngest daughter sitting nearby eating, greeted him as well. He acknowledged her and stood up to leave. Umma stopped him, asking, "Is everything alright today? We didn't see you this morning." He forced a small smile and replied, "Nothing is wrong, Umma. I just stepped out very early for an errand." "Hmm, alright then," she said curtly. He let out a light breath from his mouth, stood up, and walked out. Next, he headed to Mama’s room—the third wife—but found she was currently at Abba’s section since it was her turn for the night. He only found Mansur, her fourth-born son, and a young granddaughter sleeping on the sofa in the living room. Mansur greeted him with a slumping, disrespectful posture, though he didn't dare misbehave openly because they all feared Smart, unlike the other older brothers whom they treated with insolence. Smart acknowledged him while eyeing his terrible, untraditional haircut. "If I wake up tomorrow and see that haircut on your head, you'll have yourself to blame," he said before walking out. Mansur thrust out his lower lip, muttering complaints and waving his hands in frustration, but he didn't dare do it out loud. Ammah was sitting with Maryam and the others eating while watching a television show when he walked in with a greeting of peace. They answered in unison and greeted him respectfully. He responded warmly and took a seat. He greeted Ammah, apologizing for failing to show up in the morning. Just then, Maryam placed a plate of food and a bottle of water before him. The children retreated into their room with their food, knowing Ammah had things to discuss with him. As soon as they left, Ammah looked at him, averted her gaze, and asked, "Why did you go out since morning?" Finding himself compelled to be honest, he replied, "Everything is fine, Ammah. I just went looking for work." She slowly let out a breath. "I know you don't like that job, Hydar. But a patient person can chew on a rock until they drink its broth. You know better than anyone how this house has changed now; why can't you exercise patience with people and accept life however it comes to you? Every human being you see has their own destiny, and responding to it with patience is the measure of faith. By now, you should allow your father to rest instead of feeding you all. He is getting older and needs rest for his body and mind. He struggled immensely to raise you from childhood to adulthood, without stinting any of you on education, food, drink, or healthcare. Right now, you are the ones who should embrace him, along with your remaining younger siblings, because one day you will take our place when the earth covers our eyes." His entire body softened under the weight of his mother's advice. His eyes turned red, and with a nodding head and a softened voice, he said, "Insha Allah, Ammah, you will find me exceeding your expectations. Please continue to be patient with us and keep praying for us." "We never stop praying for you." He continued conversing with his mother and younger siblings, helping them with their assignments until around nine-thirty before stepping out. He returned to his room, knowing Abba would have gone to bed by then. After performing his Shafa'i and Wutiri prayers, he lay down, and the events of the day began to replay vividly in his mind. He pulled out the envelope and started examining it. Inside was only a sheet of paper covered in lengthy writing. The contents shocked him so much that he didn't even know what kind of thought to form about it. Deep down, he still couldn't decide whether the Jikamshi family were good people or the exact opposite. If there was anything he could say for sure, it was perhaps related to that arrogant, wild girl from yesterday. He let out a thin hiss at the memory. Tossing the paper aside, he lay back down and closed his heavy eyes... The next morning, he woke up with many thoughts weighing on his mind. The greatest source of his encouragement was Ammah's advice, followed by his personal curiosity regarding yesterday's man and the true nature of his motives—knowing that if he rejected the job, the man would simply hire someone else. Even though he didn't fully understand who Uncle Yousuf and his family were, he felt it would be careless to leave an opening for them to be harmed without first uncovering the truth. At a quarter past seven, he arrived at Uncle Yousuf’s house. He sat by the gate chatting with the elderly, composed gateman while the house help brought out breakfast. The helper respectfully greeted both him and the gateman. He merely raised a hand in acknowledgment without looking up. Just as she turned to head back inside, the gateman stopped her, asking if Alhaji had come out. "No, but I heard Aunty calling someone on the phone about heading out. That troublesome Aunty Lu from Alhaji Babba's house has taken ill..." Before she could finish her sentence, Uncle Yousuf rushed out, looking somewhat panicked. From a distance, he yelled at the gateman to open the gate. The gateman hurried to comply, and Uncle Smart stood up to approach him. Seeing how flustered Uncle Yousuf was—struggling to even figure out which car keys belonged to which vehicle—Smart greeted him. Uncle Yousuf paused, looked at him briefly, started to turn away, and then turned back. "Alhamdulillah," he muttered, tossing the keys to Smart without even remembering that Smart was technically no longer under his employment. Without argument, Smart caught the keys, pressed the fob to unlock the vehicle, and headed toward it. Just as he settled into the driver's seat and prepared to open the door, Uncle Yousuf rushed over and hopped into the passenger seat, saying, "Please hurry! It seems serious, because whatever illness could make Aunty Kareema panic like this is no small matter." Without a word, Smart pressed down on the accelerator. He didn't fully understand who they were rushing to see, but he drove on anyway. It wasn't a long distance—just a neighboring street...
The Alhaj burst into loud laughter. "Don't worry about knowing who I am because I already know who you are. Knowing the job you will do for me is what truly matters. I know you far better than what I’ve just told you; I've only scratched the surface of what I know about you. I want you to go back to the house where you resigned and resume your work. Every month, I will pay you a salary of fifty thousand naira, in addition to the twenty thousand naira they already pay you."
He placed an envelope in front of him and continued, "This is the manual of tasks you are to perform for me at Alhaji Isma'il Jikamshi's house. I can give you one day to think about it, but you should know that even inside your bedroom, my eyes are on you. Therefore, I only need you to analyze this with your mind. Whenever I need to speak with you, I will reach out through this." He placed a phone on top of the envelope he had set before him. "I don't need your answer here right now; go and think it over. I bid you farewell. See him out." He concluded his instruction by looking at his men.
With a look of intense fury and burning anger, Uncle Smart watched him leave. However, it seemed the young man's temper was so severely provoked that he was unable to utter a single word...
Just as the Alhaj had ordered, they drove him back to the street in his neighborhood. Because Maghrib prayer had already passed, he hurried home to pour some water over his fatigued body. He found some of his younger brothers who had returned home. Those he met outside greeted him, and he acknowledged them with a wave of his hand before heading straight to his room. He was a very clean person with a stubborn streak of tidiness, so seeing his room just as he had left it made him hiss and lightly press his throbbing head. The substance they had forced him to inhale had still not fully worn off. For the first time, he searched his pockets for his phone and, to his relief, found it.
He called his younger sister, Maryam. As they sat in the living room reading the Quran, the call came in. Asma'u, who was sitting next to the phone, eagerly exclaimed, "Look, it's Yaya!"
Ammi and Maryam both turned to look at her, and she answered the call with a greeting of peace. He calmly responded in his firm voice—which some people misinterpreted as arrogance due to his quiet nature. Without giving her a chance to say anything else, he continued, "Can I get some hot water over there?"
"Yes, Yaya," she replied respectfully.
As she dropped the phone, Maryam asked, "Has he returned?"
Asma'u nodded and said, "He's back. He asked me to bring him hot water; I think he wants to take a bath."
Ammi let out a soft sigh of relief, though she said nothing to them and quietly continued her spiritual remembrance (adhkar). All day, their hearts had been heavy because he hadn't entered the house to greet them in the morning as he usually did. At first, Ammi assumed he had gone out for an errand, until she went to greet Abba, who lashed out at her with harsh words as he pleased. True to her nature, she kept quiet about her children when he raged like that, swallowing her feelings until he finished so she could apologize. However, his threat to throw Smart out of the house had deeply shaken her. She had even sent Maryam to check his room, only to find him absent and the door unlocked. She tried calling his phone, but it rang unanswered before eventually becoming completely unreachable. She had spent the entire day in distress alongside Asma'u and the others.
When Asma'u brought him the hot water, she quickly tidied up the bathroom before he went in, and then she straightened his room as well. Before he emerged, she had finished and stepped out. Since Maghrib prayer had already been observed, he left his room shortly after coming out and headed to the mosque for Isha'i. After the prayer, he returned to the house. Abba had not yet come back, so he went straight into the inner quarters. True to his habit, he visited the rooms of all the wives in the house to greet them.
He started with Aunty Amarya’s room. She was a cheerful woman who loved people, though she was also quite reserved. Even though he was roughly her age, it didn't stop him from showing her deep respect because of how respectfully she treated Ammi, acting more like a sister-wife than a rival. He greeted her respectfully, and she responded warmly. Her children, who had been busy in the living room, quieted down the moment he walked in. They all greeted him, and the youngest one rushed over to him to complain about her brother in the older room, claiming he broke her pencil while she was doing her homework.
Quickly, the boy named Abbas interjected, "Our elder brother, she's lying! She broke her own pencil at school while fighting with Ameer."
She burst into tears, insisting, "It's a lie, Yaya, it was him."
He raised his hand, and they all instantly fell silent. Aunty Amarya remarked, "Honestly, if you don't beat some sense into them, Yayansu, our ears will never know peace. They've been bickering since earlier; I'm completely exhausted from talking."
He scolded the children gently, advising Anisan to come to his room in the morning before leaving for school to collect a new pencil. From there, he stepped out and headed to Umma’s room. She was the second wife in the house, but because Ammah had experienced delays in childbearing, Umma’s children were older—most of them were already married. However, she still had two young daughters and two unmarried young men living at home. She answered his greeting somewhat curtly, but he didn't mind since it wasn't unusual for her. Nusaiba, her youngest daughter sitting nearby eating, greeted him as well. He acknowledged her and stood up to leave.
Umma stopped him, asking, "Is everything alright today? We didn't see you this morning."
He forced a small smile and replied, "Nothing is wrong, Umma. I just stepped out very early for an errand."
"Hmm, alright then," she said curtly.
He let out a light breath from his mouth, stood up, and walked out.
Next, he headed to Mama’s room—the third wife—but found she was currently at Abba’s section since it was her turn for the night. He only found Mansur, her fourth-born son, and a young granddaughter sleeping on the sofa in the living room. Mansur greeted him with a slumping, disrespectful posture, though he didn't dare misbehave openly because they all feared Smart, unlike the other older brothers whom they treated with insolence. Smart acknowledged him while eyeing his terrible, untraditional haircut.
"If I wake up tomorrow and see that haircut on your head, you'll have yourself to blame," he said before walking out.
Mansur thrust out his lower lip, muttering complaints and waving his hands in frustration, but he didn't dare do it out loud.
Ammah was sitting with Maryam and the others eating while watching a television show when he walked in with a greeting of peace. They answered in unison and greeted him respectfully. He responded warmly and took a seat. He greeted Ammah, apologizing for failing to show up in the morning. Just then, Maryam placed a plate of food and a bottle of water before him. The children retreated into their room with their food, knowing Ammah had things to discuss with him.
As soon as they left, Ammah looked at him, averted her gaze, and asked, "Why did you go out since morning?"
Finding himself compelled to be honest, he replied, "Everything is fine, Ammah. I just went looking for work."
She slowly let out a breath. "I know you don't like that job, Hydar. But a patient person can chew on a rock until they drink its broth. You know better than anyone how this house has changed now; why can't you exercise patience with people and accept life however it comes to you? Every human being you see has their own destiny, and responding to it with patience is the measure of faith. By now, you should allow your father to rest instead of feeding you all. He is getting older and needs rest for his body and mind. He struggled immensely to raise you from childhood to adulthood, without stinting any of you on education, food, drink, or healthcare. Right now, you are the ones who should embrace him, along with your remaining younger siblings, because one day you will take our place when the earth covers our eyes."
His entire body softened under the weight of his mother's advice. His eyes turned red, and with a nodding head and a softened voice, he said, "Insha Allah, Ammah, you will find me exceeding your expectations. Please continue to be patient with us and keep praying for us."
"We never stop praying for you."
He continued conversing with his mother and younger siblings, helping them with their assignments until around nine-thirty before stepping out. He returned to his room, knowing Abba would have gone to bed by then. After performing his Shafa'i and Wutiri prayers, he lay down, and the events of the day began to replay vividly in his mind. He pulled out the envelope and started examining it. Inside was only a sheet of paper covered in lengthy writing. The contents shocked him so much that he didn't even know what kind of thought to form about it. Deep down, he still couldn't decide whether the Jikamshi family were good people or the exact opposite. If there was anything he could say for sure, it was perhaps related to that arrogant, wild girl from yesterday. He let out a thin hiss at the memory. Tossing the paper aside, he lay back down and closed his heavy eyes...
The next morning, he woke up with many thoughts weighing on his mind. The greatest source of his encouragement was Ammah's advice, followed by his personal curiosity regarding yesterday's man and the true nature of his motives—knowing that if he rejected the job, the man would simply hire someone else. Even though he didn't fully understand who Uncle Yousuf and his family were, he felt it would be careless to leave an opening for them to be harmed without first uncovering the truth.
At a quarter past seven, he arrived at Uncle Yousuf’s house. He sat by the gate chatting with the elderly, composed gateman while the house help brought out breakfast. The helper respectfully greeted both him and the gateman. He merely raised a hand in acknowledgment without looking up. Just as she turned to head back inside, the gateman stopped her, asking if Alhaji had come out.
"No, but I heard Aunty calling someone on the phone about heading out. That troublesome Aunty Lu from Alhaji Babba's house has taken ill..."
Before she could finish her sentence, Uncle Yousuf rushed out, looking somewhat panicked. From a distance, he yelled at the gateman to open the gate. The gateman hurried to comply, and Uncle Smart stood up to approach him. Seeing how flustered Uncle Yousuf was—struggling to even figure out which car keys belonged to which vehicle—Smart greeted him. Uncle Yousuf paused, looked at him briefly, started to turn away, and then turned back.
"Alhamdulillah," he muttered, tossing the keys to Smart without even remembering that Smart was technically no longer under his employment.
Without argument, Smart caught the keys, pressed the fob to unlock the vehicle, and headed toward it. Just as he settled into the driver's seat and prepared to open the door, Uncle Yousuf rushed over and hopped into the passenger seat, saying, "Please hurry! It seems serious, because whatever illness could make Aunty Kareema panic like this is no small matter."
Without a word, Smart pressed down on the accelerator. He didn't fully understand who they were rushing to see, but he drove on anyway. It wasn't a long distance—just a neighboring street...