Gadar Tsautsayi Book 1 Compelete

Description

GADAR TSAUTSAYI💫❣️

✍️ Pen of Nusaiba Ibrahim Rimi (Nusy bee)

Author of: Matar khalees Barrister Hibba Siraɗin uƙuba Kaddararmu ce ta zo a haka Masarautar Kaizur

And now GADAR TSAUTSAYI

NOTICE!

The book GADAR TSAUTSAYI is a fictional creation. If any name, character, or town matches yours, it is purely coincidental.

BOOK ONE - Page 1

DSS HEADQUARTERS, KANO STATE, NIGERIA

The large office was dead silent, with no sound audible except the humming of the air conditioner, whose cool breeze filled the spacious room as if no living soul was inside.

However, about a dozen people were seated in a row on their chairs, occupying various high-ranking positions within their security branch. One of them, who happened to be their leader—the State Director, Ibrahim Haruna Yalwa—stood facing them with a stern, unsmiling expression. Clearly the chief officer, he was addressing them while they listened intently.

Taking another deep breath, he spoke with palpable frustration: "This is a total disgrace to us. To think that a young girl, whom many of us are old enough to have fathered, has outsmarted us right here in this city! She has completely ruined our city and corrupted our youth. She comfortably orders illicit drugs, brings them into Nigeria, distributes them to her network, and then slips back to wherever she came from. Yet, not a single one of us can capture her? What does this even mean? Are we completely useless, or is this girl simply out of our league? I am sick of witnessing our failure and incompetence regarding this girl. Without a doubt, this failure and disgrace are far too much for us. It is a sheer tragedy."

One of the officers raised his hand respectfully. The Chief Officer granted him permission to speak. In a soft voice, the officer said: "Sir! This girl—I strongly suspect she has powerful backers in high places. That is why she acts with absolute impunity, evading capture while gaining the confidence to keep doing what she does."

With simmering annoyance, the State Director looked directly at him and retorted: "No one is backing her. She stands firmly on her own two feet, and it is we who are failing to stand our ground. I will not stop saying that we have committed a shameful act by repeatedly failing to catch a mere young girl."

Silence descended upon the office once more. Everyone turned things over in their minds, knowing the State Director spoke the truth. For two full years, they had been chasing this young woman to no avail, completely unable to do anything about her. They urgently needed to figure something out, or their entire agency would become a laughingstock before the public.

Slowly, he closed his beautiful eyes, opened them again, and lifted his gaze to stare at the photograph of the girl pinned to the large monitor in his office. She was remarkably fair-complexioned, as if she had no roots in Africa. Her hair was styled in blue attachments that cascaded down to her hips. She wore a tight-fitting tracksuit, a matching white cap, and a side-slung handbag resting against her waist. Dark sunglasses covered her eyes, but they could not hide the faint, confident smile playing across her lovely face.

He slowly raised his hand, his eyes locked onto her image. To this day, he still could not understand why this young menace had driven their agency to the brink of madness. They had never even gotten close to her location, let alone contemplated arresting her.

The State Director looked at him and called out: "C.S.O. HAISAM ABDULMALIK MADAKA! Do you have any defense or explanation?"

The man addressed as C.S.O. Haisam Abdulmalik stood up with poise, exuding an aura of quiet authority. He was handsome, fair-skinned (though not overly pale), and his tailored suit fit his complexion perfectly.

Slowly, his eyes swept across the men seated in the office—most of whom outranked him in position and status. Lowering his gaze, he began to speak in his characteristically calm manner: "Good evening, Sir! Good evening, everyone!! She is not like ordinary people. She lives as though she moves like the wind, which is why capturing her is exceptionally difficult. Even if no one openly backs her, she undoubtedly has powerful hidden backers behind the scenes. Look at how she travels to any country she pleases, returns to Nigeria, and continues her illicit operations without anyone stopping her."

The State Director, who had been watching Haisam closely, nodded before asking: "What is your proof that someone is backing her? You know you are a security officer; you must use concrete evidence so you don't mislead yourself and others."

Haisam nodded and replied: "That precisely is why I have failed to reach her to this day—because I lack undeniable, rock-solid proof. But as a true security operative, sooner or later I will uncover what is hidden, because I am convinced she is working for powerful forces."

The State Director pressed further: "Who is she working for? And what is your evidence?"

Haisam answered directly: "As I just said, I cannot name them yet. Who is she working for? It could be anyone in this country who lacks the fear of God. It could even be someone right inside this very agency of ours, someone among our politicians, or an ordinary civilian. Investigation is what will reveal the truth. All I know about our line of duty is this: suspect everyone, but do not falsely accuse anyone without proof."

Many of the meeting attendees began nodding in satisfaction with C.S.O. Haisam's explanation. The State Director looked at him again and asked: "So, what do you see as the way forward? What do you propose we do?"

Haisam rubbed his head and said: "Give me time. I will investigate, and I will make sure I find out where she is and apprehend her with my own hands!"

Almost everyone in the office jerked upright in astonishment. They were shocked by his audacity, given that the odds of success were less than ten percent, yet C.S.O. Haisam was giving absolute guarantees. A.D. Hamza Zubair smiled faintly, shaking his head as he looked at Haisam. In a mature, dignified voice, he said: "Your drive and confidence truly impress me, my hero. But before we get ahead of ourselves—none of us here knows this girl. No one knows anything substantial about her; no one has ever seen her in person, and nobody even knows her real name. She is only identifiable by the letters N.O.C.C.M. that she uses—acronyms whose full meaning we still do not know, let alone her next move. No one knows her name, where she lives, where she is heading, or where she left from. Given all that, what indication do you have of who she is? How can you possibly track her down? You have a monumental task ahead of you!"

Haisam looked at him and replied softly: "I'm sorry, sir! I am a security officer. In my capacity, I should not despair before I even begin my work. When I joined the intelligence service, I took an oath to protect my country, to chase down criminals no matter how clever or cunning they might be. Therefore, I am once again requesting time—just one month. As I said, I promise I will track her down and bring her before the law."

Silence enveloped the office for a brief moment before the State Director looked at Haisam and said: "Best of luck, Haisam! But what kind of assistance do you need to capture her?"

Haisam bowed slightly and said: "Thank you, sir! I would like a team of six handpicked, highly skilled, and professional operatives—individuals who never play around with their duties and have undergone top-tier training. They will help me succeed in this mission."

The State Director nodded: "Best of luck! Insha Allah, they will be assembled for you. You have been given one month; we will test your competence. Best wishes."

Haisam bowed, saying: "Thank you, sir! And I promise I will do everything in my power not to bring shame to our agency."

The State Director nodded approvingly, and after a brief discussion, the meeting was adjourned.

RED CHINA RESTAURANT, NASSARAWA GRA, KANO STATE, NIGERIA

It was 5:00 PM on a Tuesday. The city was cool and damp following a heavy downpour that had stopped a few minutes earlier. A light drizzle still lingered, accompanied by a pleasant breeze that further chilled the atmosphere.

A Lexus car smoothly parked in front of the restaurant, but whoever was inside showed no sign of emerging even after five minutes had passed.

Suddenly, the car door swung open, and feet slowly emerged. Just from the appearance of the feet, one could tell they belonged to a woman, despite the wearer being dressed in long jeans and canvas sneakers. A delicate anklet adorned her left ankle, clearly signaling femininity.

She stepped out fully. She was a young lady of around twenty-five years old—strikingly beautiful, fair-complexioned (though not pale), with a well-proportioned figure neither too plump nor too thin.

She wore a slightly thick Puma sweatshirt and long jeans. A scarf was draped over her head, allowing a neat fringe of bangs to rest softly across her forehead. Large sunglasses covered half her face, and she carried a small white handbag matching her shirt and scarf.

She stood still for about a minute, looking around with a neutral, expressionless face before walking slowly into the restaurant like someone who walked with deliberate gentleness.

She walked straight to a table and sat down. A waitress hurried over, curtsied slightly, and said: "Good evening, Ma'am!"

She looked at her impassively and made a slight hand gesture. The waitress immediately understood, as this wasn't the customer's first time coming in and giving orders in that manner. The waitress bowed and left to fetch what was requested.

As the waitress walked away, the customer slipped her hand into the corner of her seat and instantly retrieved a small yellow note. Without wasting time, she opened it and read the handwriting:

'OLD VENUE, BY 3:AM'

That was all that was written on the note. She folded it, tucked it into her pocket, and raised her head to see the waitress returning with a tray carrying the exact order she always requested whenever she entered the restaurant.

It was shawarma and mint tea. She drank the mint tea, settled her bill, and walked out of the restaurant without casting a glance at anyone. Most of the staff watched her with whispers regarding her aloof, arrogant demeanor. Ever since she started patronizing them, she would come in, order, eat, and leave without speaking to anyone or answering greetings. No one had ever heard her voice, leading some to wonder if she was mute.

Upon stepping outside, she entered her car, rolled up the dark tinted windows, pulled out her latest iPhone, tapped on it, and brought it to her ear while unwrapping the scarf from her head.

"Hello!" a woman's voice answered on the other end.

Adjusting her long hair with her hand, she spoke in a commanding, high-class tone: "Old venue, by normal time." With that, she hung up without waiting for a response.

She started the car and swiftly drove away from the area like a flash of lightning.

She didn't drive far before parking near a massive gate. Staring at the gate with a complex expression, a flood of memories rushed into her mind. She shook her head, flashed a bitter-sweet smile, and drove forward, convincing herself in her heart that everything she had done was correct and justified. She had no regrets.

ALHAJI YUSUF MALIYA RESIDENCE, MALIYA ESTATE, KANO STATE

It was a massive parlor luxuriously furnished with modern ornaments and decor. The room was as quiet as if no living creature inhabited it.

Yet, it contained every single member of the vast mansion belonging to Alhaji Yusuf Maliya, the head of the household.

Alhaji Yusuf Maliya was a renowned billionaire businessman, the owner of MALIYA GROUPS OF COMPANIES and MALIYA MOTORS. Everyone within the Maliya family—all residents of Maliya Estate—was exceedingly wealthy. From the moment a child was born into the family, a specific share was allocated as their initial stock holding, to be handed over to them upon reaching a certain age.

They were a tightly knit family characterized by unity and mutual love. Even when domestic friction occurred, it was never allowed to surface publicly due to the strict discipline and severe consequences enforced by the head of the family.

Alhaji Yusuf Maliya was the patriarch. He had five younger siblings—three men and two women:

1. Hajiya Sa'adatu, the oldest among the siblings, known across the massive family as Mummy. She was a major businesswoman and the proprietor of Maliya Plaza and Maliya Shopping Complex, heavily involved in import and export.
2. Alhaji Rufa'i, whom the younger family members called Abbeey. He owned an auto spare parts importing company, massive stores within and outside Kano, and was a high-ranking Customs officer.
3. Alhaji Aliyu, an employee of NNPC who also owned a major food processing company.
4. Lieutenant Colonel Habib, a military officer and businessman.
5. Salma, the last-born sister whom the children called Aunty. She was a journalist and businesswoman like her siblings.

All five of them—Sa'adatu, Rufa'i, Aliyu, Habib, and Salma—showed absolute obedience to Alhaji Yusuf's rules. If he declared that he did not want a certain boundary crossed, no one dared even approach that boundary. However, this extreme rigidity had once plunged the family into a massive crisis years prior, a wound from which a complete resolution had yet to be found.

BOOK ONE - Page 2

Alhaji Yusuf Maliya had three wives:

1. Hajiya Zainab, the first wife whom the children called Ummeey. She had only one child for him—the eldest daughter of Alhaji Yusuf Maliya, Fatima Shaheeda.
2. Hajiya Atika, who had five children: Safwan (the eldest), Malika, Amina, Mukhtar, and the last-born Fauziyya.
3. Hajiya Ruƙayya, the youngest wife, who had three children: Zainab (named after Ummeey and called Iman), Nafisa, and the last-born Usman.

Hajiya Sa'adatu (Mummy) had four children: Muyassar (the eldest, who finished his Master's degree in Civil Engineering at Harvard University with top honors, followed by twins Hassan and Hussaini studying various medical fields at the University of Cologne, and their last-born Na'ima studying at NUN in Abuja).

Alhaji Rufa'i had seven children from his two wives. Alhaji Aliyu had nine children from his single wife. Aunty Salma had two children—twin boys currently in their first year at the University of Massachusetts in the US.

According to Maliya family tradition, whenever an important matter concerning the household was to be deliberated, everyone gathered at Alhaji Yusuf Maliya's massive residence. As the patriarch, he was the pillar who rebuilt the family whenever breaches occurred. Their mother, Hajiya Zulayhat Maliya—affectionately called Hajiyya Innayyo by the entire family—resided in a separate wing specially designated for her within his compound.

True to tradition, today they had gathered in the mansion's expansive parlor—parents and children alike. It was evident that a momentous issue was up for discussion.

The parlor fell silent as Alhaji Yusuf Maliya took a slow breath and began to speak: "Everyone in this house knows what happened four years ago. A stain fell upon our family; our dignity and honor were dragged before the eyes of the world. Our enemies rejoiced while our loved ones grieved. Back then, I chalked it up to sheer misfortune. But this time around, whatever happened must be treated as sheer recklessness, considering it is not the first occurrence. What is your counsel on this?"

Hajiya Sa'adatu adjusted her seat, took a breath, and spoke: "Alhaji, I do not see this as a major problem, especially considering the discipline and upbringing of the children. It is hard for them not to slip up when thrust into a foreign environment. Furthermore, it is proper to keep a close eye on them since they are young women—and women require constant supervision. But as far as I am concerned, I hold high hopes for them. What do you say, Ruƙayya?" she turned the question to Hajiya Ruƙayya (Mommy).

Mommy adjusted her seat and replied: "As for me, I have nothing much to say, but we will surely get a good answer from the children themselves."

Alhaji Yusuf looked at the children, who appeared eager to speak. However, instead of asking them directly, he shifted the question to Hajiya Zainab (Ummeey).

Gently, Ummeey looked at Alhaji Yusuf and said: "Alhaji, let us look at this very carefully. Remember these are young women, and where they are going, there is no older family member present. If possible, let us find schools for them right here in the country. There is no harm in them studying under your watch in Abuja or staying here with their parents. Education acquired anywhere yields no better fruit than its blessings. Looking back at what happened previously, we reaped bitter results. Let us treat the past as destiny, and this time let us take precautions. If we do that, God will help us."

The children quickly looked at her with suppressed resentment, believing that Ummeey was being envious and trying to stand between them and their aspirations. Yet, they dared not speak up in front of Alhaji Yusuf Maliya, before whom even senior adults spoke only when addressed.

Before anyone else could react, Hajiya Atika spoke up angrily: "No, Hajiya Zainab! That does not befit your stature! What reason would you have to cast bad omens on the children when they have done nothing wrong to you? One should measure their words before speaking; this attitude is simply inappropriate."

Before she finished, Hajiya Sa'adatu chimed in: "Besides, God forbid, these children have received excellent upbringing! What do they have to do with such bad things? You just know how some people are—especially those who didn't give birth to the children themselves."

Ummeey shook her head and replied: "Far from it! May God protect us from the work of regret and satanic deception. You have misunderstood my words completely. It is fine; may God protect them and grant success in what they seek. Hajiya Sa'adatu, a child belongs to everyone. Neither children nor wealth should be treated with malice, because God alone knows who will ultimately benefit from them."

Sensing the discussion was turning tense, Alhaji Yusuf frowned and commanded: "That is enough! I do not want to hear any talk implying that there is a lack of upbringing in this house. That suggests I have failed, and I know the extent of my efforts. None of my wives raise undisciplined children; raising an ill-mannered child does not happen in my home unless through sheer misfortune. And you, Hajiya Zainab, regarding your caution—I know what I am doing. All of you should simply pray for them. May God grant them success, shield them from worldly temptations, and ensure they achieve their goals."

Almost everyone chorused, "Ameen."

Iman, Amina, and Alhaji Rufa'i's daughter Surayya were the ones whose upcoming studies abroad had sparked the debate. Yet, the family remained haunted by the past stain whose healing timeline remained unknown.

Joy clearly lit up the faces of the youths, though none dared voice it since Abba (Alhaji Yusuf Maliya) had not granted them permission to speak, in accordance with family protocol where a junior never spoke without a senior's express command.

Alhaji Yusuf Maliya turned his attention back to the students scheduled to travel abroad—four in total: alongside Amina, Iman, and Surayya were Salim and Mufeed (sons of Alhaji Rufa'i). Since they were males, and the previous crisis did not originate from the male side, less anxiety surrounded their trip.

Alhaji Yusuf looked at the youths and calmly called their names one by one. They responded respectfully, and he began explaining in a measured tone: "Give me your full attention. You know the rule, especially you young women. In the Maliya family, women are traditionally not permitted to travel abroad for studies, because everyone knows what such freedom caused us in the past. However, this time we are willing to let you go abroad for your education, not for any reason other than because we trust..."

Summary

The narrative opens with a high-stakes meeting at the DSS Headquarters in Kano State, where the State Director, Ibrahim Haruna Yalwa, sharply criticizes his top officers for failing to apprehend an elusive, highly elusive young female criminal mastermind operating under the alias N.O.C.C.M. Despite two years of tracking, she continues to smuggle illicit substances into Nigeria and evade capture effortlessly. C.S.O. Haisam Abdulmalik steps forward, rejecting despair and requesting a dedicated six-person team and a one-month ultimatum to track her down and bring her to justice.

Meanwhile, in Nassarawa GRA, a mysterious, sophisticated young woman arrives in a Lexus at the Red China Restaurant, picks up a cryptic note reading "OLD VENUE, BY 3:AM," enjoys her meal quietly, and drives off with cold detachment.

The scene then shifts to the affluent mansion of billionaire patriarch Alhaji Yusuf Maliya in Maliya Estate, Kano. The extended family has gathered to deliberate on whether to permit their young female members (including Iman, Amina, and Surayya) to travel abroad for higher education. Old family trauma and strict conservative traditions clash as the senior wives—particularly Ummeey (who urges caution) and her co-wives—argue over the risks. Ultimately, patriarch Alhaji Yusuf overrides the doubts, invoking discipline and ordering prayers for the traveling youths, setting the stage for intersecting conflicts between intelligence operatives and high-society secrets.

Description

• Setting: Urban Kano State, Nigeria (transitioning between high-security DSS briefing rooms, upscale hospitality spots like Nassarawa GRA's Red China Restaurant, and the palatial luxury of Maliya Estate).
• Tone: Suspenseful, authoritative, culturally rich, and dramatic, blending elite law enforcement tension with complex extended-family politics.
• Key Motifs: Hidden identities, family legacy and strict patriarchy, elite corruption vs. professional duty, and the haunting shadows of past family scandals.

Analytics

• Character Dynamics:
  • Haisam Abdulmalik: Driven, confident, and analytical; represents professional integrity refusing to yield to institutional fatigue.
  • The Mysterious Girl (N.O.C.C.M.): Cool, collected, elusive, and operating with absolute impunity, establishing a classic cat-and-mouse dynamic.
  • Alhaji Yusuf Maliya: A formidable patriarch whose absolute authority keeps a vast, wealthy family in check, yet struggles to balance protective instincts with modern realities.
• Conflict Engines:
  • External: The race against time by law enforcement to capture an untouchable syndicate leader.
  • Internal: Generational tensions, protective paranoia, and hidden dissent within the influential Maliya dynasty.

Comments and Conclusions

• Literary Effectiveness: Nusaiba Ibrahim Rimi effectively weaves two compelling subplots—an intense criminal investigation thriller and an intricate domestic family drama—into a cohesive narrative opening. The contrast between the cold precision of the underworld queen and the rigid discipline of an elite Northern Nigerian family creates an immediate sense of intrigue.
• Conclusion: The chapter successfully establishes high stakes on both fronts: Haisam's one-month countdown to catch a ghost, and the Maliya family's risky decision to send their daughters abroad despite historical trauma. It lays a robust foundation for a gripping suspense drama filled with hidden connections and emotional twists.