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The entrance of her mother into the room abruptly cut her thoughts short. With a completely lifeless posture, she forced herself up into a sitting position, watching her mother as she walked over and sat on the edge of the bed with a heavy, somber expression on her face.
In a weak, fragile voice, she said, "Mammah, good evening."
Studying her closely, her mother replied, "Good evening. What exactly is bothering you that you refused to come out and eat your food?"
As if she had just been waiting for a tiny trigger, the girl immediately began to wipe away cascading tears. With a choked-up voice, she cried, "Mammah, how could I possibly eat under these circumstances? You all completely refuse to understand me and are actively looking to plunge my entire life into ruin! Tell me, in the name of Allah, who among my siblings in this household has ever been subjected to a forced marriage? Every single one of them was married off to the man of her choice! But as for me, I am being handed over like a free gift to a man whose lineage isn't even fully verified! By Allah, you all are not treating me fairly at all."
Her mother stared at her intently, her mind flashing back to a specific event that had unfolded many years ago. Drawing a heavy breath, she finally asked, "So, in your eyes, what has been decided for you constitutes unfairness?"
The girl fell into a stubborn silence, offering no response. Her mother pressed on, "Are you not even ashamed to utter those words? How exactly do you want to be treated that makes you claim you are facing injustice? I was under the impression that you were given ample time to exercise your rights; why then did you fail to choose a husband for yourself? Or would you prefer to remain in this state indefinitely, unmarried, while people continue to whisper and cast suspicion upon you?"
She shook her head vigorously and countered, "Mammah, two weeks is far too short! How long has it even been since I returned to find my bearings? Everything requires time, a focused mind, and peace of mind! Instead, a sentence I completely do not deserve has just been dropped on me. Truly, I have been treated unfairly, because I see absolutely no future with this primitive villager."
Her mother let out a pained, bitter smile before speaking: "This primitive villager whom you look down upon so heavily is the very protector of your dignity. As things stand right now, if it weren't for him, no respectable man would marry you and offer you a peaceful home. Therefore, you had better watch your mouth with me, by Allah! I never want to hear you utter another foul word regarding this arrangement ever again. If not for sheer ingratitude on your part, a young man like him does not deserve this kind of hostility from you."
Wiping away her tears, she snapped, "The bottom line is that I do not care for him in the slightest; he is completely beneath my social standing. But fine, since you all are tired of having me around, I will marry him just as you wish. However, whatever consequences follow this action, do not dare cry to me."
Staring at her in utter astonishment, her mother asked, "What, are you going to plunge a knife into him and kill him then?"
She simply shook her head, continuously wiping the tears streaming down her face.
Her mother let out a long, disgusted hiss and declared, "The ultimate end of your deep-seated hatred would be to plunge a knife straight into his throat! Or perhaps you will lace his food with poison so he drops dead! Well, if you don't intend to do either of those things, then you truly hold no love for Allah and His Prophet. By Allah, if you dare take his life, your life will be taken in return! You think you are completely untouchable, don't you? Because your father possesses vast wealth and political power, you assume that if you commit murder, he has the resources to buy your freedom. Well, let me tell you right now—I swear an absolute oath by Allah that if you take a soul, I will personally stand firm and ensure that you face the exact legal retribution for what you have done! If that is your hidden agenda against UMARU, then by all means, do not hesitate to try it."
The moment she finished delivering her ultimatum, she stood up and stormed out of the room, her spirit completely ablaze with fury. The girl's erratic behavior was genuinely beginning to frighten her now, forcing her to realize she would have to intensify her prayers regarding the matter.
Once her mother left the room, she sank back onto the bed, tears tracing the contours of her face. That hadn't been her intention at all; she had merely given voice to the raw frustration in her heart. She wouldn't dream of harming a mere insect, let alone a human being.
She spent the night trapped in a fitful, restless sleep due to the sheer weight of her distress.
At the very first break of dawn, she dialed the ASP's phone number, as she naturally kept all of their contacts handy. When her call came through, he had just returned from the mosque. Seeing an unfamiliar number didn't faze him; he pressed the phone to his ear, offering a calm Islamic greeting.
In a thoroughly strained, raspy voice, she returned the greeting before paying her respects.
He paused, trying to place where he had heard that voice before, as the sheer raspiness made it impossible for him to identify her immediately.
"Who is this? I can't quite make out who is speaking."
She cleared her throat, lifting her voice slightly as she announced, "It is ZINAT."
His heart skipped a beat. "Zinatu, it's you," he murmured. "I hope all is well?"
She exhaled sharply before replying in her subdued voice, "Come now, the moment you saw this call, you already knew that all was definitely not well."
He instantly picked up on her drift. Settling onto the edge of his bed with the phone pressed tight to his ear, he said, "Alright, what is it? Explain it to me, I'm listening."
"ASP, why on earth would you collude with others to ruin my life?" she questioned him, her tone thick with accusation.
He replied, "I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about."
She let out a heavy sigh and said, "Of course you wouldn't admit it, seeing as you all are cut from the same cloth. However, I want you to explicitly warn him that I am completely out of his league. If he is currently celebrating and laughing, he had better stop, because marrying me will become his worst living nightmare."
He quickly interjected, "Subhanallah! Zinatu, what could possibly possess you to say such things?"
She cut him off sharply, stating, "I have delivered my message. Tell him that the edge of a deep well is no place for a blind man to play games."
The sheer audacity of the proverb actually made him chuckle. Laughing softly, he said, "Ah, I am completely washing my hands of this dispute. Tell you what—let me just send you his phone number so you can tell him all of this face-to-face."
She countered, "It's not as if I am intimidated by him. Send the number over."
He replied, "Doing so right now." Hanging up the phone, he shook his head at the unfolding drama; clearly, a massive storm was brewing.
Before forwarding the number to her, however, he took care to call Umaru first to brief him on the situation, pleading, "For the love of Allah, please do not match her hostility; otherwise, everything will fall apart completely. I can tell she is desperately in need of gentle reassurance. Speak to her softly; do not add to her frustration."
Umaru simply laughed before responding, "Alright, fine, I will do exactly as you say." The ASP felt immensely relieved by this, as his sole desire was to see this marriage successfully formalized.
Right in the middle of getting dressed, her call came through. Since the ASP had already shared her number with him, he recognized it instantly upon checking his screen, so he deliberately ignored it, letting it ring out.
It wasn't until her third consecutive attempt that he finally picked up, delivering a stern, completely no-nonsense greeting.
Without even bothering to return his greeting, she sneered with supreme arrogance and insolence, "You can hear me, right?"
He remained completely silent, offering no response. She let out a long, dramatic hiss before launching into her tirade: "I know that right now you are absolutely thrilled, celebrating your good fortune at securing something you never in your wildest dreams expected to attain. Well, let me tell you something—your joy is going to turn into bitter sorrow! Likewise, your laughter will transform into weeping, because from the very day our marriage is officially announced, you will realize you bit off far more than you can chew! I left a message with your friend, but he insisted on giving me your number instead. I told him to give it to me because I am not a coward—I am perfectly capable of telling you exactly what is in my heart." She concluded her speech, panting heavily for breath.
In a calm, entirely measured tone, he asked, "Do you happen to know the type of woman referred to as 'The Sharecropper's Reward' (Matar ladan noma)?"
Silence stretched over the line as she mentally analyzed the bizarre title.
He continued, "Since you don't understand, let me enlighten you. Your father handed you over to me as a free gift; I am only paying the nominal dowry. I have never harbored a single ounce of affection for you in my heart, nor do you possess any qualities capable of attracting my interest. The woman I actually love is a beautiful, intelligent girl possessed of immense poise and proper upbringing. As for you, you are merely 'The Sharecropper's Reward'—I didn't clear the fields or do any of the hard labor, but because of the assistance I rendered to your father, he gifted you to me, and I accepted simply out of respect so as not to embarrass him. I will live in a marriage with you, but absolutely not because I love you." He finished his speech with absolute tranquility.
Her mouth went completely dry! She had never anticipated that he could execute such a devastating insult. Completely failing to find any words to counter him, she could only let out sharp, burning gasps of breath into his ear.
With complete indifference, he added, "I am hanging up now if you have nothing left to say."
With immense difficulty, suppressing the bitter tears of humiliation that threatened to shatter her voice, she spat, "You filthy, primitive, absolute peasant!"
She hurriedly slammed the phone down, tossing it onto the bed. Dropping to the carpet in a heap, she wept bitterly until her tears completely ran dry. A single phrase echoed relentlessly in her ears: The Sharecropper's Reward! Truly, if a mouth knows how to dish out insults, it must also learn to withstand the devastating retaliation.
His spirit wasn't dampened by her words in the slightest. With an unbothered mind, he smoothly went about his daily preparations, refusing to let her tantrums disrupt his peace. He had already anticipated that this exact resistance would occur; he knew a monumental task lay ahead of him, but it didn't rattle his composure in the least. He was fully prepared and had already mapped out the precise strategies he would use to handle her with absolute, cool-headed ease.
She spent over two weeks nursing her wounded pride, thoroughly consumed by the bitter sting of his devastating words. Every single time her mind replayed the derogatory title he had labeled her with—The Sharecropper's Reward—she would dissolve into tears of pure frustration. The name possessed a toxic power that shattered her high self-esteem; no matter what schemes she plotted against him, the moment she recalled his absolute disrespect, her spirit would wither completely. She felt entirely lost as to how to salvage her life, compounded by the fact that her mother remained deeply upset and distant, refusing to look her in the eye. This reality escalated her anxiety to its absolute peak.
Ultimately, she had no choice but to force a sense of resignation upon her heart, borrowing a facade of cheerfulness and displaying an outward show of total submission. She even went straight to her mother's private quarters to offer a sincere apology for the ungrateful statements she had uttered weeks prior.
Seeing her daughter suddenly so open, vibrant, and cooperative, her mother's stern expression softened. She welcomed her back into her good graces, offering her profound words of wisdom regarding the realities of life, while simultaneously preparing her bridal vitality using premium, highly effective traditional women's wellness treatments and herbs.
Swallowing her pride, she steeled her heart and diligently consumed the traditional treatments, entirely to project the illusion that she had fully accepted the marriage and harbored no hidden, malicious agendas in her heart. Her dramatic transformation brought immense joy to her siblings, whose constant prayer had always been for Allah to guide her toward a noble path.
Ever since the day she had called him only to be brutally put in her place, she never dared make the mistake of calling him again, terrified that he would unleash an even more venomous insult upon her.
On his end, he didn't give her a second thought either. Fully engrossed in his own professional affairs, he had completely forgotten about her existence, busy preparing for his upcoming deployment to a specialized training camp. However, he kept a sharp mental tally of the exact days remaining until the wedding vows would be sealed.
On the very night of his departure, he sat down to discuss the logistics with the ASP. The ASP reassured him, "UMARU, your departure for training will not stall a single thing. What is the value of our brotherhood if I cannot step up for you? I will personally handle every single arrangement and stand in as your official proxy. Furthermore, I will be the one to physically present the dowry to ensure everything proceeds smoothly. This protocol is standard; your physical absence at the wedding ceremony will not invalidate the legality of the marriage vows in the slightest. Therefore, rest your mind completely. Insha Allah, you will simply return to find your bride waiting for you." He wrapped up his speech with a playful wink.
Smiling warmly, Umaru let out a relaxed sigh and replied, "Thank you so much, my brother. May Allah reward you with immense goodness and preserve our bond of loyalty and trust."
The ASP replied, "Ameen, ya Allah. However, it would be highly wise before you depart to officially inform the girl's father of your training deployment, even if it is just via a quick phone call."
Umaru agreed, "Yes, I already had that exact thought. I will call him tonight so we can discuss it."
Shaking his hand firmly, the ASP said, "Perfect. May Allah grant us success." Umaru chorused the Ameen.
When he subsequently briefed His Majesty, King Omar, on the situation, the sovereign graciously dismissed any concerns, confirming exactly what the ASP had stated: such proxies were completely standard practice in high-status marriages and presented no issues whatsoever as long as an official representative was assigned. He thoroughly encouraged Umaru, showering him with beautiful blessings and prayers.
They concluded their conversation with immense mutual respect and dignity. The sheer nobility and impeccable character of the elderly King deeply fascinated Umaru; indeed, this profound respect was the sole reason he had agreed to marry the girl in the first place. Truly, had it not been for the King's unmatched character, he saw absolutely no reason to shackle himself to a woman completely void of manners and proper upbringing like Zinat.
Translation: Free Page 43 & 44
On that very same evening before his departure, he located Uwale in her quarters to discuss the pending matters. He briefed her comprehensively on the current state of affairs, emphasizing that there were now a mere two weeks left until the marriage vows were officially sealed. Consequently, he requested her to formally notify all relevant extended family members and close associates.
Uwale was overjoyed by the news; marriage, after all, operates entirely on divine timing, and Allah had decreed this union at a moment they least expected. However, before she allowed him to take his leave, she firmly brought up the delicate matter of Hamra'u and how his obligations toward her would be handled.
He responded, "Uwale, Hamra'u remains my ultimate choice, and I love her deeply to this day. My marriage to this princess will never prevent me from making Hamra'u my wife. This particular arrangement simply caught me completely off guard without prior preparation. Insha Allah, I will marry her the very moment I secure the stability I need."
Fixing her eyes upon him, she warned, "UMARU, if you end up failing this girl and deceiving her, Allah will surely grant her justice against you. You know better than anyone that she has been waiting for you for years, and you personally gave her a solemn promise of marriage. You must realize that the moment this news reaches her, it will plunge her and her parents into profound despair. For the love of Allah, do not bring shame upon me, UMARU; do not sever the deep family ties that exist between myself and that girl's father."
Let out a slow breath, he reasoned, "Uwale, you know that everything happens according to the absolute will of Allah. A man can map out his life perfectly, only for Allah to alter his course entirely. This princess's father holds an immense position of honor in my life, which is the sole reason I accepted the gift of his daughter. Furthermore, I have already assured you that this does not mean I am backing out of my promise to Hamra'u. I will marry her by the grace of Allah; therefore, rest your mind and work on soothing her heart as well."
She sighed, "Very well, UMARU. May Allah bring this to a blessed realization. However, before you depart, locate the girl and explain the situation to her face-to-face, just as you have explained it to me."
Checking the watch on his wrist, it was already a quarter to eleven at night. He replied, "I do not object to your counsel; I will definitely find her so we can discuss it, though perhaps not tonight, given how late it is. She has likely gone to sleep."
She concluded, "Very well then. May Allah grant you a safe journey and return you to us in perfect health." He chorused, "Ameen, ya Allah," before paying his respects and heading back to his quarters.
At dawn, upon emerging from the mosque after prayers, they paused in the courtyard to refine their plans further. The ASP noted, "I've observed that ever since this marriage talk began, you haven't mentioned a single thing regarding the bridal chest (lefe) or any of the other essential marriage provisions. You know very well that this girl is highly dramatic and high-maintenance; it is best to pacify her through these traditional avenues."
Umaru countered, "ASP, I fail to understand why you harbor such anxiety and apprehension regarding this girl. Her father literally gifted her to me; I am only required to pay the dowry. Why on earth should I stress my finances out of fear of her insolence?"
Letting out a soft chuckle, the ASP remarked, "UMARU, the woman who can intimidate me has simply not been born yet. I am merely instructing you on the art of peaceful cohabitation. If you meet her hostility with absolute resistance, the two of you will never find peace under one roof. Providing a bridal chest is simply the right and dignified thing to do; even if a woman is gifted to you, you must look at what honor and propriety dictate."
Umaru stated flatly, "As of right now, I simply do not possess the disposable funds to assemble a luxury bridal chest for her. I will provide for her well after she arrives."
The ASP stared at him in utter disbelief, thoroughly stunned by his statement. To claim he lacked money when he possessed millions sitting untouched in his bank accounts? Not even two weeks prior, the President himself in Abuja had honored him with a massive cash grant, a luxury vehicle, and a high-end estate within the capital city—yet here he was, pulling a claim of poverty.
Shaking his head, the ASP muttered, "UMARU, the truth is you only execute what aligns with your personal whim; you completely refuse to take sound advice when it is offered. Fine, so be it."
The visible irritation in the ASP's tone immediately softened Umaru's stance. Offering a sincere apology, he said, "Forgive me, my brother. It isn't that I reject your wisdom; I merely had my own reasons for doing so. However, I am dropping my stance entirely for the sake of our friendship. Tell me, how much do I need to hand over for the bridal chest? You know I am leaving the city today, and I haven't the slightest clue how to shop for these things anyway."
The ASP replied, "The matter is settled; I won't take a single dime from you. The bridal chest will proceed flawlessly. I will hand the funds over to my wife so she can hit the markets and curate every single luxury item required." The moment he finished speaking, he took his leave.
A warm smile played on Umaru's lips as he watched his friend's retreating figure until he vanished from sight. Ever since Allah had brought them together, the ASP had displayed nothing but pure affection and absolute sacrifice, effectively becoming a brother of blood. The depth of love his friend extended to him was fully reciprocated; the ASP was responsible for every piece of good fortune and the professional rank he currently enjoyed through his sheer grit and determination. Truly, he possessed nothing of equal value to repay him with, save for fervent prayers.
True to the solemn promise he made to himself, the ASP executed the plan flawlessly. He released a massive fortune to assemble the bridal chest, filling twelve premium designer trunks to the brim with high-end apparel. He included three separate, incredibly heavy genuine gold jewelry sets. Because a deep understanding existed between him and his wives, none of them caused a scene; however, a massive misunderstanding almost erupted between him and his third wife.
The situation had thoroughly puzzled him, leaving him wondering exactly where she had gotten wind of Zinatu's existence to the point of throwing a fierce tantrum of jealousy. Seeing her distress, he sat her down and explicitly clarified that the princess was actually the bride of his best friend. The sole reason he was spearheading the logistics was that his friend was currently deployed out of town, forcing him to oversee the wedding arrangements. This detailed explanation effectively pacified her, though she had initially suspected he was deceiving her to take another wife.
From the very day the luxury trunks were delivered to Uwale’s residence to receive her maternal blessings, Hamra'u was thrown into a state of absolute, shattering agony. Unable to even remain in the living room, she retreated to her chambers, locked the door securely, and let out piercing wails of despair. The bitter sting of jealousy felt potent enough to claim her life.
Uwale entered the room to find her in that horrific state, sitting beside her to offer gentle comfort. Her own heart broke for the girl; was Umaru truly deceiving them? In their minds, they firmly believed Umaru was the one who had poured out this massive fortune to assemble such an extravagant bridal chest. The entire affair tasted like ash in their mouths—it felt like a complete betrayal of their years of loyalty.
Weeping uncontrollably, Hamra'u cried, "So, Uwale, even you colluded with him to publicly humiliate me? What did I ever do to make you hate me so much that you would support him bringing in another woman over my head? You know the exact number of years I have spent waiting for him! Why would you both betray my trust like this?"
Wiping away her tears of profound empathy, Uwale asked, "Hamra'u, do you mean to tell me that throughout everything that has unfolded, UMARU never explained the situation to you?"
She shook her head sideways, sobbing, "He told me absolutely nothing! And you shouldn't have hidden it from me either; it was only right that you kept me informed so I would know exactly where I stand."
Uwale defended, "Hamra'u, do not cast blame or fault upon me regarding this matter. By Allah, I myself was completely in the dark until the very eve of his departure when he broke the news to me. He explicitly swore to me that this marriage would never prevent him from marrying you. The entire situation arose under extreme, high-pressure circumstances; you must realize that this girl's father is a man of monumental power, which is why Umaru couldn't decline. From what I gathered, he is only entering this marriage out of profound respect for the King. Therefore, soothe your heart; UMARU explicitly assured me that you are his ultimate choice, and he will marry you by the power of Allah."
A long, relieved breath escaped Hamra'u's lips as a sense of calm finally washed over her heart. If she analyzed Uwale's words correctly, they indicated that he was only marrying the princess to appease her powerful father, not because he possessed an ounce of love for her. That single realization was enough to cool her raging jealousy; nevertheless, she resolved that she would not rest until she heard her exact status directly from his own lips.
Between the ASP's senior wife and Aunty Zeey—his newest bride—a cold war constantly raged. They were perpetually at odds, making it impossible for them to coexist in the same space, as any encounter inevitably triggered a fierce dispute. The source of the friction was almost exclusively Aunty Zeey, a woman consumed by intense, hyper-vigilant jealousy. She deeply resented the senior wife and her children, and while she harbored a slight intimidation toward the senior wife's firm boundaries, they still clashed violently whenever a disagreement arose, despite the senior wife's best efforts to maintain her dignity and maturity.
It was precisely for this reason that the ASP deliberately excluded Aunty Zeey from the delegation sent to deliver the bridal chest. Instead, he simply selected two representatives from Uwale's household, a few of his own relatives, the senior wife, and Nabila, declaring that their small circle was more than sufficient.
This exclusion cut Aunty Zeey deeply. Her grand ambition had been to strike up a strategic alliance and friendship with the incoming bride, especially after hearing rumors that she was a genuine princess; she desperately craved that high-society association. Furthermore, she harbored intense jealousy over the fact that all of their husband's friends' wives were close confidantes of the senior wife, making her desperate to claim Zinat for herself to gain an ally.
Unable to contain her rage over the perceived slight, she called him on his phone, launching into a bitter complaint about why he would marginalize her in such a manner. She argued that she was equally his wife, so why was the senior wife always placed at the forefront of every significant event? She declared she was thoroughly exhausted by the unfair treatment. Knowing her volatile temperament inside out, he gently placated her, explaining that he had no malicious intent whatsoever. He promised that the moment he returned, he would personally hand over the princess's phone number so they could establish a relationship. This promise instantly delighted her, prompting her to wish him a safe and successful deployment.
There wasn't a single person who laid eyes on the bridal chest and failed to marvel at its sheer opulence; it represented the absolute pinnacle of luxury and high-class feminine indulgence. A massive fortune had been spent on its curation—ranging from high-end international cosmetics to luxury lingerie, completely devoid of local Nigerian goods. The collection boasted over twenty pairs of designer shoes and matching handbags, alongside massive quantities of premium Swiss laces, Austrian brocades, heavily embroidered foreign gowns, and exceptionally expensive silk veils. The jewelry sets were beyond count, featuring three massive, heavy sets of solid gold nestled securely in their velvet cases; the collection resembled a fully stocked luxury boutique.
Everyone praised the magnificent gifts—except for her. She didn't openly broadcast her disdain, but even after the trunks had sat in the residence for three full days, she hadn't bothered to spare them a single glance to see what lay inside. She simply watched with cold detachment as her relatives selected various fabrics from the lot to send to the royal tailors to be fitted for her. She maintained a stubborn silence, completely unwilling to utter a word that would spark another explosive confrontation, while her family members continued to celebrate with immense joy...
Did you find this translation captures the pacing well, or would you like to adjust the tone for the upcoming chapters? Let me know if you need any specific Hausa slang refined!
