The genesis of our misunderstanding began with the arrival of Hajja and her younger sister, Inna Uwani. I had no issues with Hajja, as she showed me nothing but love and care. However, I was well aware of all the schemes Inna Uwani was orchestrating, since I am no longer a child. Every single move I made was under her watchful eye. Moreover, she twisted every word I uttered, throwing unpleasant insinuations at me whenever Hajja wasn't around. She never did this in front of her sister or my husband, choosing instead to pretend before them that she loved me. Consequently, I avoided staying in the living room whenever they were seated there—even when my husband was present. I would confine myself to my room, only coming out when Hajja called for me. I completely despise conflict and did not want my peace of mind disrupted to the point of trading insults with her, which I knew would please no one. That is why I simply stayed away as long as she was there. They had been here for two weeks now, and I was desperately eager for them to leave—not because I was tired of Hajja, but because of Inna Uwani. I had completely figured out her agenda: she wanted my husband to bring her daughter into our home so the two of us could live together as co-wives. She repeatedly remarked that our house was far too large to accommodate just one woman instead of four. Even my husband irritated me during this period because it felt as though she was acting with his silent approval; he never once indicated to her face that he had no interest in marrying Hauwa. Two burdens weighed heavily on me at the same time: Inna Uwani's constant taunts and a severe lack of energy that drained me. My menstrual cycle was due the previous week but it never arrived. I noticed many changes in my body, leading me to suspect that I might be pregnant. On Saturday afternoon, I was lying in my room covered with a blanket, shivering from a sudden fever. I had gone to lie down specifically to prevent Hajja from noticing my condition. My phone, which was on top of the drawer, began to ring. When I checked, it was my husband. I placed it to my ear without uttering a word. For no clear reason, I didn't even want to hear his voice, as I felt he was hiding something from me. My heart was entirely convinced of my suspicion: he had already gotten what he wanted from me, which was why he had reduced the care and attention he initially showered on me. He, too, sounded reserved as he instructed me to come up and meet him upstairs. Without responding, I hung up the phone and waited about ten minutes before forcing myself to stand up, put on my hijab, and walk out. They were all seated watching television, including Yusi. I managed a slight smile. Hajja looked at me and asked if I had been sleeping, to which I simply replied, "Yes." Inna Uwani gave me a disdainful look before turning her head away. I ignored her completely and walked past, heading upstairs to my husband's quarters. I found him sitting and working on his computer. I sat down a distance away from him without saying anything. He didn't look up either until he finished what he was doing. When our eyes finally met, he assumed an unsmiling, stern expression and began interrogating me about a change in my demeanor that was unusual to him. He accused me of letting disrespect creep into our relationship. With a burning heart, I looked at him and snapped, "How have I disrespected you? And what change have you noticed in me to warrant this interrogation? I swear, I am weary of this; my past life was much happier!" He stared into my eyes for a long moment before standing up, sitting close to me, and saying, "I just can't understand your direction these past few days, Amina. Ever since Hajja and her sister arrived, you completely changed toward me. You no longer give me attention or care, and you only greet me when you feel like it. It has been eight days since we last shared an intimate bed. What exactly is your problem?" I turned my face away and remained silent. He reached out, turned my face back to meet his gaze, and whispered, "What did I do to you, hmm? Tell me so we can find a solution. I don't want this anger of yours, my love..." Tears instantly filled my eyes and began to stream down. I felt too overwhelmed to tell him directly that I didn't want him to marry his grandmother's choice, who also happened to be his cousin. That was exactly what was bothering me, as I fully understood that this was the goal of all Inna Uwani's maneuvering, and it seemed he also desired to fulfill her wish. In my mind, I thought that openly refusing would make me seem too selfish. Yet, I could not control my heart because a fierce jealousy consumed me; I could not bear the thought of any other woman sharing his space. Seeing me crying so profusely, he became frantic. He pulled me into a tight embrace against his chest, rocking me like a little child while whispering a torrent of sweet words into my ear. This was precisely one of the reasons I dreaded any other woman coming close to him, because the man truly knew how to love completely. The comforting quickly shifted into deep intimacy. Naturally, there was a mutual longing for it, since we had never spent this many days apart without intimacy since reconciling. It had been eight days without it, a factor that had played a major role in breeding tension in our hearts. I blamed no one for this except Inna Uwani, because she was the one actively trying to destroy our happiness. Even when we were fulfilling each other's desires, he could not remain silent. He told me it felt as though he was experiencing me for the very first time, expressing a level of satisfaction deeper than ever before. I did not hide my feelings either; I showed him how desperately I had missed him and confided my suspicion about the pregnancy he had always dreamed of. He became ecstatic, praying fervently that it would turn out to be true. When we finished bathing and went downstairs, he unexpectedly announced to Hajja that I was pregnant. Instantly, I was struck by an intense wave of shyness and embarrassment. Overwhelmed by modesty in their presence, I cast my gaze downward. He, however, felt no embarrassment at all as he held my hand, pulled me onto the sofa, and declared, "She is pregnant, I swear! She just told me upstairs. Hajja, this is a historic day for me. Please join us in praying that Allah grants her a safe delivery." Hajja grinned from ear to ear and said, "Prayers are certainly due, Tajo. This day has become historic for me as well; I will never forget it." Inna Uwani chipped in spitefully, saying, "I assume this isn't her first time experiencing this, right?" Hajja countered, "Of course, it is her third, but to us, Uwani, it feels just like her first." Inna Uwani forced a bitter smile—the kind the Hausa say hurts worse than crying—and muttered, "Well, may Allah grant a safe delivery." They all answered, "Amen," except for me, as I became lost in thought over everything unfolding around me. Discovering my pregnancy brought me even deeper affection and love from my mother-in-law. My husband handled me with such profound care that it sometimes moved me to pity, seeing how desperately protective he was of me, never wanting anything to upset me. Whenever he was home, he wouldn't let me lift a finger, insisting we spend every moment together so he could feel the warmth of his unborn child. Sometimes I would secretly hide and wipe away my tears because ever since the pregnancy advanced, my mind had been plagued by dark, unsettling thoughts. When it became too overwhelming, I called Aunt Yagana and told her about my frequent nightmares and terrible anxieties. She reassured me that such experiences are common among pregnant women, but urged me to stay steadfast in prayer. I recalled that I had never experienced this kind of inner turmoil when pregnant with Yusi and Kamalu. Hajja decided to settle in permanently, announcing that she would not leave until I gave birth. By then, they had been with us for four months. Inna Uwani repeatedly urged her to return home, but Hajja refused, insisting on staying until the delivery. Consequently, Inna Uwani decided to leave on her own because she was incredibly restless; she despised waking up every day to see the mistress of the house moving about with a pregnancy that everyone was celebrating. She viewed returning home as her best strategy, intending to discuss their next moves back there, having realized she would have to employ an underhanded back-channel approach to achieve her goals. Five days after Inna Uwani's departure, Aunt Yagana and Hadiza arrived. Aunt Yagana had first stopped by our family home because she hadn't visited in quite a while. While there, Hadiza stubbornly insisted on tagging along with her. It was only then that Aunt Yagana learned Hadiza's marriage had ended and she was currently observing her waiting period (iddah). When she asked for the reason, Hadiza explained everything. Aunt Yagana scolded her thoroughly, offering sibling advice. Their mother sat by listening silently, though she was deeply bitter inside because her children always seemed to lag behind. One look at Yagana confirmed she was living a life of comfort and luxury, which wasn't surprising since her husband had always been well-off. With our father's permission, they set out on their journey. My husband, however, scolded them when they arrived, questioning why they took a commercial bus from Kano to Lagos instead of calling us so he could provide plane tickets for a flight. He deeply valued and respected absolutely anything connected to me. Ever since he realized Aunt Yagana was the eldest sibling in our family, he treated her with immense deference; even though he was close to her age, he would bow slightly whenever he greeted her. Because of this, she actively avoided sitting in the living room, preferring to stay in her room. She would tell me, "Amina, I swear to God I feel so embarrassed around this husband of yours. Anyone seeing how he behaves would think you used a love potion on him. I don't want people validating the stereotype that Borno women use charms. You and I know we have never done anything to manipulate him. Unless you did something in secret, Amina, because this is simply extraordinary." I laughed out loud and replied, "I swear, not at all, Aunt Yagana! That is just how he is. He has no arrogance whatsoever; he even sits and eats with his employees. His bowing to me is nothing unusual." She shook her head and said, "If he bows to you, that is between a husband and his wife. But as for me, I am deeply embarrassed by how he treats me—a man whom prominent figures bow to, yet he bends down to greet me." I said, "Aunt Yagana, anyone related to me holds immense value in his eyes. Furthermore, this pregnancy has brought me even greater respect from both him and his mother. I swear I haven't used any charms to capture his mind." She shook her head and advised, "Truly, Amina, Allah has wiped away your tears, so fear Him. Treat your husband well just as he cares for you, and protect his honor and wealth. I am certain his love for you is pure and for the sake of Allah and His Prophet. Do your absolute best to remain obedient to him." I replied, "By God's grace, Aunt Yagana, thank you." During all these conversations, Hadiza sat silently, her eyes darting back and forth from one speaker to the other, releasing heavy sighs. That was classic Hadiza; I knew the motive behind her every gesture since we grew up in the same house and shared the same room. She only yielded to my success because she had no other choice, as Allah executes His own will. Aunt Yagana and Hajja bonded beautifully, conversing like a mother and daughter. They shared identical temperaments, wisdom, and perspectives. It brought me immense joy to see them chatting about life together. Hadiza, on the other hand, capitalized on the environment by doing nothing but eating and sleeping. She got exactly what she wanted, and before two months had passed, she filled out beautifully, her skin glowing radiantly. She spent all her time in air-conditioned comfort, surrounded by excellent food. When Aunt Yagana prepared for their return journey, Hadiza threw a tantrum, throwing herself down and refusing to leave until I gave birth. Hajja supported her decision, and my husband agreed she should stay since she was currently unmarried. I said nothing because I knew very well she wasn't staying out of sisterly care for me, but rather to indulge her own desires. I laughed silently as I watched her argue with Aunt Yagana, who insisted our father had not authorized this and that they must return together. My husband came downstairs—it being a Saturday, he didn't leave early—and encountered the dispute. He asked Aunt Yagana to yield, promising he would call our father to explain the situation. Reluctantly, she agreed. The moment we entered the room, she unleashed her anger on Hadiza, saying, "We cannot just overstay our welcome under the guise of family relation. The two months we spent here are more than enough!" Hadiza eventually burst into tears, crying, "Aunt Yagana, what is wrong with me wanting to stay and look after my sister? I carry no burden for anyone—no husband, no children. Is it because we don't share the same mother that you constantly discriminate against me? Or do I possess some hidden flaw?" Feeling terrible about how Aunt Yagana treated her, I intervened, saying, "Hadiza, it's not like that. You misunderstood Aunt Yagana. Please don't interpret her actions that way. It's perfectly fine, you can stay. I highly appreciate your care for me. May Allah preserve our bond." Aunt Yagana listened to us without saying a word, merely letting out loud, frustrated hisses. I understood exactly where she was coming from; she feared Hadiza's presence might lead to an indiscretion that would ruin our family's dignity and respect in the eyes of my husband. My husband finalized all the travel arrangements for Aunt Yagana, insisting she must return by air because he generally disliked long road trips. Two days before her departure, a massive conflict erupted between my husband and me. To be entirely honest, I did my absolute best to suppress the issue in my heart, but it proved impossible. Ever since we reconciled, my love for him had become absolute—the kind of love where I couldn't bear to see even a fly get close to him. In reality, his affection for me was fully visible, yet I felt that my immense love and burning jealousy for him far outweighed what he felt for me. I believed I could open up every aspect of my life to him without hiding a single secret, given how highly he regarded me and the grand position he granted me in his heart. Anyone observing us for even a second would instantly recognize the deep love, attachment, and mutual respect between us. For this reason, I firmly believed he would never hide anything from me. Yet, today, he proved to me that he is fundamentally a man, and that the elusive, secretive nature with which Allah created men would never change. Hauwa is his cousin, and I have no right to sever their family ties, but I swear I never knew they were actively speaking on the phone because he never showed it. My absolute trust in him was the reason I rarely checked his phones, even though he routinely left them right where I sat or left them behind in the room whenever he went out. Initially, I had suspected him due to how he treated me when we first met, but as we lived together, I came to believe his solemn oaths when he swore he had never committed adultery, claiming he had only tested me back then to satisfy a specific need in finding a life partner. Little did I know that Inna Uwani's schemes were on the verge of succeeding while I sat back completely oblivious. What happened was that after we completed our marital intimacy, I fell fast asleep—which was typical for me now, as I was often too exhausted during our marital relations to contribute much; he did all the work while I frequently dozed off toward the end. While I slept, he went into the bathroom to take a shower. By divine coincidence, his phone, which was placed right by my head, began to ring. I woke up with a start due to the loud ringing filling my ears. I sat up quickly, and my eyes landed directly on the screen, where the name "Dr. Hauwa" was boldly displayed. My heart pounded violently. Staring at the screen, all traces of sleep vanished as I rubbed my eyes, blinking repeatedly at the name. I didn't answer it. Once the call cut off, I opened the call logs and found an uncountable history of missed calls from her. I checked his outgoing logs and saw he had also called her frequently. I checked the messages and found an assortment of texts she had sent him—greetings, well-wishes, and expressions of love. He didn't reply to all of them; out of about thirty texts, he had written brief acknowledgments for barely three. This did not calm my heart because I knew he generally disliked typing, preferring direct phone calls or WhatsApp voice notes; people's messages would often sit for days before he set aside a day to review them. Sometimes he wouldn't even reply, choosing instead to call the person directly. I put the phone down and lay back down, my heart pounding and boiling with rage. I never realized I possessed such a fierce, burning jealousy until today; my eyes felt heavy and a tight lump choked my throat. When I heard him emerge from the bathroom, I kept my eyes shut and did not move. I heard him pick up the phone, sit right by my feet, and check it. I kept my eyes closed, but I monitored his every movement. Suddenly, I heard him speak, saying, "Hauwa, how are you? I was showering when you called. How is Inna Uwani? How is your work going?" It turned out he had called her back, assuming I was fast asleep. Midway through her response, I snapped my eyes open, sat up abruptly, and stared directly at him. He looked at me and quickly muttered into the phone, "Let me call you back in a little while so we can talk, okay?" He hung up, set the phone aside, and said, "Madam, get up and take a bath." I stared at him, my face twisted in a deep frown. "Why did you cut the call so abruptly, saying you would talk later? It's just Hauwa, after all! What is there to hide from me? Am I even capable of stopping you from marrying her?" He shook his head and replied, "You cannot stop me, provided I desire her. I possess the authority, and beyond four wives, I can even take concubines." I countered, "That is exactly how a man is expected to speak! I have long recognized your target, sir. For the sake of God's majesty, go ahead and marry three more women simultaneously; how on earth would that affect Amina?" He stared at me for a long time with an expression of deep irritation. He usually possessed immense patience whenever we had an argument or dispute, often yielding to me and ignoring whatever harsh words I hurled at him. At other times, however, he would get deeply upset and manifest his anger. From what I could see, my defiance was beginning to push him over the edge. He barked, "You better watch yourself, Amina! Stop assuming I have turned myself into a fool for your sake, thinking you can treat me with disrespect; we will end up clashing severely. I truly love you, but that will not make me sit idly by while you trample over me. You have nothing to do except exhibit blind jealousy; at the slightest provocation, you interrogate me. Did you give birth to me to cross-examine me with such words? I am telling you, I have the right to four wives right now. It is impossible for Allah to halallize something for me while a woman intimidates me out of it. I am no weakling of a man. Hauwa is my cousin, and I have every right to marry her right now if I wish, so find yourself some peace of mind since I haven't deprived you of your rights." I snapped back, "Then come out openly and tell us you are marrying Hauwa, so what? I never claimed to be your blood sister anyway; nothing connects me to you except the destiny of marriage. What stopped you from marrying Hauwa all this time? The very woman who, along with her mother, abandoned you in the past is now returning to your life for a hidden agenda. If you want to marry every single member of Hauwa's household, I swear to God I don't care!" I finished my sentence by slapping my thigh and letting out a sharp, frustrated sigh. In a fit of rage, he slammed his hand against the mattress. I flinched slightly as my heart raced, and I quickly moved further away. His face transformed completely with a level of fury I had never witnessed in him before. He yelled, "By Allah, you are only safe because of the child inside you! If it weren't for that, I would have dealt with you severely! How dare you look into my eyes and speak to me that way, blast you! I didn't give birth to you. Inna Uwani is your elder, and I can look straight into your own father's eyes and speak my mind to him. Have I ever insulted anyone on your account? You possess absolutely no manners, Amina! You take my leniency for granted to say whatever you please to me. I will shock you!" Of all his words, none cut me as deeply as his insult toward my family. Tears burst forth, and I wept, crying out, "Are you insulting my father? In everything I said, I never slandered you; I spoke the truth and never insulted you. Yet, you look me in the eye and insult my father? Did you give birth to me?" He let out a loud, frustrated hiss, stood up, and began putting on his clothes. At that moment, Hauwa called his phone again, but he made no move to answer it. I taunted, "Go ahead and pick it up! Your cousin, your own blood is calling you on the phone. I despise hypocrisy!" He ignored me completely until he finished dressing. He then walked over, sat down close to me, picked up his phone, and called her back. Using the exact intimate tone of voice he reserves exclusively for me when we are under the covers, he spoke to Hauwa: "My love, what is it, hmm? Rest assured, everything will be taken care of, by God's grace. There are very important matters I need to discuss with you. God willing, once I find some free time at the end of this month, I will travel down to Bauchi so we can discuss it fully. Extend my greetings to Inna Uwani." As she responded, he stood up with the phone pressed to his ear and headed for the door. In an aggressive, frantic rush, I attempted to spring off the bed, but the blanket caught my feet, causing me to crash heavily to the floor. Startled by the noise, he spun around in panic. I struggled to my feet; despite the sharp pain racking my body, it did not stop me from confronting him. He quickly turned the doorknob and stepped out, showing that he had completely had enough of the drama—otherwise, he would have stayed to fight it out. I caught up to him on the balcony before he could head downstairs. I grabbed him from behind, locking him in a tight grip as if preparing to wrestle. Driven entirely by blind rage, I lost all sense of judgment and simply wept hysterically, holding onto him with an iron grip. Hearing my loud, unrestrained wailing, Hajja and Aunt Yagana rushed upstairs in an absolute panic. He was entirely flustered, trying to turn around to secure his grip on me while repeating, "Take it easy with everything! Look at what you are doing. Is this necessary? Why are you creating a scene? I haven't wronged you!" Seeing Hajja approaching the staircase, I screamed out, "Just because you want to get married, you confront me and..."
2. Summary of the Original Story
This text is a continuation of the contemporary Hausa family drama/fiction surrounding the protagonist, Amina, and her wealthy husband, Tajo.
The Domestic Tension: The narrative details intense domestic friction introduced by the visit of Tajo's mother (Hajja) and her manipulative sister, Inna Uwani. While Hajja is loving, Inna Uwani constantly monitors, provokes, and taunts Amina in private, aiming to break up the marriage or introduce her own daughter, Dr. Hauwa, as a co-wife.
The Pregnancy Revelation: Amina suffers from emotional withdrawal and physical exhaustion, realizing she has missed her period. Following a period of marital distance, Tajo confronts her upstairs about her cold behavior. They reconcile intimately, and Amina confides her suspected pregnancy. Tajo is ecstatic and immediately announces it downstairs to Hajja and a bitter Inna Uwani. This leads to Hajja deciding to stay long-term, prompting a defeated Inna Uwani to leave and plot her next moves from her hometown.
Family Arrivals and Internal Jealousies: Amina’s older sister, Aunt Yagana, and her newly divorced cousin, Hadiza, arrive from Kano. Tajo shows immense, humbling respect to Aunt Yagana, which makes her uncomfortable due to local superstitions regarding marital charms. Meanwhile, Hadiza throws a tantrum and refuses to return home with Yagana, exploiting the luxury of Amina's home. Yagana recognizes Hadiza’s hidden, envious motives but is forced to leave her behind due to Tajo's intervention.
The Climax and Confrontation: Days before Yagana's departure, Amina discovers numerous missed calls, outgoing logs, and affectionate text messages exchanged between Tajo and his cousin, Dr. Hauwa. When she confronts him for sneaking around, Tajo loses his temper, reasserts his polygamous rights, defends his cousin, and insults Amina's father. The argument escalates violently; Tajo calls Hauwa back using an intimate tone right in front of Amina, provoking her to jump out of bed. She trips, falls heavily, and chases him to the balcony, grabbing him from behind in a hysterical meltdown just as Hajja and Aunt Yagana rush upstairs.
3. Character Description
Amina: Deeply insecure, fiercely possessive, and hyper-vigilant. Though currently pregnant and physically fragile, her overwhelming jealousy (kishi) and fear of abandonment bypass her self-preservation, causing her to engage in explosive, high-stakes marital confrontations.
Tajo (Alhaji Tajo / Maigidan): Highly authoritative, status-conscious, yet deeply affectionate when pleased. While he acts with immense humility and generosity toward Amina’s extended family, he possesses a sharp, unyielding masculine pride. He refuses to let a woman dictate his actions or compromise his legal right to polygamy, turning verbally aggressive when pushed.
Inna Uwani: The primary instigator. She is a deeply bitter, calculating aunt who weaponizes passive-aggressive remarks and traditional family expectations to manipulate Tajo into a polygamous union with her daughter, Hauwa.
Aunt Yagana: The wise, dignified, and cautious elder sister. She is highly perceptive of social dynamics, strictly adheres to respectability politics, and constantly warns against overstaying boundaries or provoking marital distrust.
Hadiza: Amina's opportunistic and envious cousin. Recently divorced, she is deeply lazy and seeks to permanently anchor herself in Amina’s luxurious, air-conditioned household under the pretense of offering sisterly care.
Dr. Hauwa: Tajo's cousin and an educated professional. Although she previously rejected or ignored Tajo, she and her mother are now aggressively pursuing him through affectionate text messages and persistent phone calls.
4. Literary Analytics
Themes:
The Complexities of Polygamy and Extended Family Intrusion: The narrative explores how traditional African/Hausa family dynamics allow extended family members (like aunts) to actively interfere in a couple's private domain, using guilt and lineage to enforce polygamous arrangements.
The Illusion of Complete Trust: Amina's discovery of Tajo's hidden call logs shatters the romanticized boundary of their reconciliation, illustrating the inevitable friction between absolute emotional vulnerability and a partner's private autonomy.
Gender Dynamics and Structural Authority: Tajo’s sudden shift from a doting husband to an aggressive patriarch highlights the societal framework where a man’s economic power gives him absolute leverage, allowing him to invoke religious and legal rights to silence a female partner's emotional protests.
Tone and Mood: The text maintains an underlying current of anxiety, moving from passive-aggressive domestic alienation to brief bursts of passionate intimacy, before plunging into a raw, chaotic, and loud climactic breakdown on the balcony.
Social Commentary: The text presents a nuanced critique of contemporary marital realities in Northern Nigeria: it explores the psychological toll of pregnancy on a woman's mental health, the persistent cultural stereotypes regarding "Borno women and love charms," the economic vulnerability of divorced women (represented by Hadiza), and the toxic cycle of inter-family rivalries that destroy domestic peace.
GUDUN AURE BOOK 3 BINTA UMAR ABBALE
The genesis of our misunderstanding began with the arrival of Hajja and her younger sister, Inna Uwani. I had no issues with Hajja, as she showed me nothing but love and care. However, I was well aware of all the schemes Inna Uwani was orchestrating, since I am no longer a child. Every single move I made was under her watchful eye. Moreover, she twisted every word I uttered, throwing unpleasant insinuations at me whenever Hajja wasn't around. She never did this in front of her sister or my husband, choosing instead to pretend before them that she loved me. Consequently, I avoided staying in the living room whenever they were seated there—even when my husband was present. I would confine myself to my room, only coming out when Hajja called for me. I completely despise conflict and did not want my peace of mind disrupted to the point of trading insults with her, which I knew would please no one. That is why I simply stayed away as long as she was there.
They had been here for two weeks now, and I was desperately eager for them to leave—not because I was tired of Hajja, but because of Inna Uwani. I had completely figured out her agenda: she wanted my husband to bring her daughter into our home so the two of us could live together as co-wives. She repeatedly remarked that our house was far too large to accommodate just one woman instead of four. Even my husband irritated me during this period because it felt as though she was acting with his silent approval; he never once indicated to her face that he had no interest in marrying Hauwa.
Two burdens weighed heavily on me at the same time: Inna Uwani's constant taunts and a severe lack of energy that drained me. My menstrual cycle was due the previous week but it never arrived. I noticed many changes in my body, leading me to suspect that I might be pregnant.
On Saturday afternoon, I was lying in my room covered with a blanket, shivering from a sudden fever. I had gone to lie down specifically to prevent Hajja from noticing my condition. My phone, which was on top of the drawer, began to ring. When I checked, it was my husband. I placed it to my ear without uttering a word. For no clear reason, I didn't even want to hear his voice, as I felt he was hiding something from me. My heart was entirely convinced of my suspicion: he had already gotten what he wanted from me, which was why he had reduced the care and attention he initially showered on me.
He, too, sounded reserved as he instructed me to come up and meet him upstairs. Without responding, I hung up the phone and waited about ten minutes before forcing myself to stand up, put on my hijab, and walk out. They were all seated watching television, including Yusi. I managed a slight smile. Hajja looked at me and asked if I had been sleeping, to which I simply replied, "Yes." Inna Uwani gave me a disdainful look before turning her head away. I ignored her completely and walked past, heading upstairs to my husband's quarters.
I found him sitting and working on his computer. I sat down a distance away from him without saying anything. He didn't look up either until he finished what he was doing. When our eyes finally met, he assumed an unsmiling, stern expression and began interrogating me about a change in my demeanor that was unusual to him. He accused me of letting disrespect creep into our relationship.
With a burning heart, I looked at him and snapped, "How have I disrespected you? And what change have you noticed in me to warrant this interrogation? I swear, I am weary of this; my past life was much happier!"
He stared into my eyes for a long moment before standing up, sitting close to me, and saying, "I just can't understand your direction these past few days, Amina. Ever since Hajja and her sister arrived, you completely changed toward me. You no longer give me attention or care, and you only greet me when you feel like it. It has been eight days since we last shared an intimate bed. What exactly is your problem?"
I turned my face away and remained silent. He reached out, turned my face back to meet his gaze, and whispered, "What did I do to you, hmm? Tell me so we can find a solution. I don't want this anger of yours, my love..."
Tears instantly filled my eyes and began to stream down. I felt too overwhelmed to tell him directly that I didn't want him to marry his grandmother's choice, who also happened to be his cousin. That was exactly what was bothering me, as I fully understood that this was the goal of all Inna Uwani's maneuvering, and it seemed he also desired to fulfill her wish. In my mind, I thought that openly refusing would make me seem too selfish. Yet, I could not control my heart because a fierce jealousy consumed me; I could not bear the thought of any other woman sharing his space.
Seeing me crying so profusely, he became frantic. He pulled me into a tight embrace against his chest, rocking me like a little child while whispering a torrent of sweet words into my ear. This was precisely one of the reasons I dreaded any other woman coming close to him, because the man truly knew how to love completely.
The comforting quickly shifted into deep intimacy. Naturally, there was a mutual longing for it, since we had never spent this many days apart without intimacy since reconciling. It had been eight days without it, a factor that had played a major role in breeding tension in our hearts. I blamed no one for this except Inna Uwani, because she was the one actively trying to destroy our happiness. Even when we were fulfilling each other's desires, he could not remain silent. He told me it felt as though he was experiencing me for the very first time, expressing a level of satisfaction deeper than ever before. I did not hide my feelings either; I showed him how desperately I had missed him and confided my suspicion about the pregnancy he had always dreamed of. He became ecstatic, praying fervently that it would turn out to be true. When we finished bathing and went downstairs, he unexpectedly announced to Hajja that I was pregnant. Instantly, I was struck by an intense wave of shyness and embarrassment.
Overwhelmed by modesty in their presence, I cast my gaze downward. He, however, felt no embarrassment at all as he held my hand, pulled me onto the sofa, and declared, "She is pregnant, I swear! She just told me upstairs. Hajja, this is a historic day for me. Please join us in praying that Allah grants her a safe delivery."
Hajja grinned from ear to ear and said, "Prayers are certainly due, Tajo. This day has become historic for me as well; I will never forget it."
Inna Uwani chipped in spitefully, saying, "I assume this isn't her first time experiencing this, right?"
Hajja countered, "Of course, it is her third, but to us, Uwani, it feels just like her first."
Inna Uwani forced a bitter smile—the kind the Hausa say hurts worse than crying—and muttered, "Well, may Allah grant a safe delivery." They all answered, "Amen," except for me, as I became lost in thought over everything unfolding around me.
Discovering my pregnancy brought me even deeper affection and love from my mother-in-law. My husband handled me with such profound care that it sometimes moved me to pity, seeing how desperately protective he was of me, never wanting anything to upset me. Whenever he was home, he wouldn't let me lift a finger, insisting we spend every moment together so he could feel the warmth of his unborn child.
Sometimes I would secretly hide and wipe away my tears because ever since the pregnancy advanced, my mind had been plagued by dark, unsettling thoughts. When it became too overwhelming, I called Aunt Yagana and told her about my frequent nightmares and terrible anxieties. She reassured me that such experiences are common among pregnant women, but urged me to stay steadfast in prayer. I recalled that I had never experienced this kind of inner turmoil when pregnant with Yusi and Kamalu.
Hajja decided to settle in permanently, announcing that she would not leave until I gave birth. By then, they had been with us for four months. Inna Uwani repeatedly urged her to return home, but Hajja refused, insisting on staying until the delivery. Consequently, Inna Uwani decided to leave on her own because she was incredibly restless; she despised waking up every day to see the mistress of the house moving about with a pregnancy that everyone was celebrating. She viewed returning home as her best strategy, intending to discuss their next moves back there, having realized she would have to employ an underhanded back-channel approach to achieve her goals.
Five days after Inna Uwani's departure, Aunt Yagana and Hadiza arrived. Aunt Yagana had first stopped by our family home because she hadn't visited in quite a while. While there, Hadiza stubbornly insisted on tagging along with her. It was only then that Aunt Yagana learned Hadiza's marriage had ended and she was currently observing her waiting period (iddah). When she asked for the reason, Hadiza explained everything. Aunt Yagana scolded her thoroughly, offering sibling advice. Their mother sat by listening silently, though she was deeply bitter inside because her children always seemed to lag behind. One look at Yagana confirmed she was living a life of comfort and luxury, which wasn't surprising since her husband had always been well-off.
With our father's permission, they set out on their journey. My husband, however, scolded them when they arrived, questioning why they took a commercial bus from Kano to Lagos instead of calling us so he could provide plane tickets for a flight.
He deeply valued and respected absolutely anything connected to me. Ever since he realized Aunt Yagana was the eldest sibling in our family, he treated her with immense deference; even though he was close to her age, he would bow slightly whenever he greeted her. Because of this, she actively avoided sitting in the living room, preferring to stay in her room. She would tell me, "Amina, I swear to God I feel so embarrassed around this husband of yours. Anyone seeing how he behaves would think you used a love potion on him. I don't want people validating the stereotype that Borno women use charms. You and I know we have never done anything to manipulate him. Unless you did something in secret, Amina, because this is simply extraordinary."
I laughed out loud and replied, "I swear, not at all, Aunt Yagana! That is just how he is. He has no arrogance whatsoever; he even sits and eats with his employees. His bowing to me is nothing unusual."
She shook her head and said, "If he bows to you, that is between a husband and his wife. But as for me, I am deeply embarrassed by how he treats me—a man whom prominent figures bow to, yet he bends down to greet me."
I said, "Aunt Yagana, anyone related to me holds immense value in his eyes. Furthermore, this pregnancy has brought me even greater respect from both him and his mother. I swear I haven't used any charms to capture his mind."
She shook her head and advised, "Truly, Amina, Allah has wiped away your tears, so fear Him. Treat your husband well just as he cares for you, and protect his honor and wealth. I am certain his love for you is pure and for the sake of Allah and His Prophet. Do your absolute best to remain obedient to him." I replied, "By God's grace, Aunt Yagana, thank you."
During all these conversations, Hadiza sat silently, her eyes darting back and forth from one speaker to the other, releasing heavy sighs. That was classic Hadiza; I knew the motive behind her every gesture since we grew up in the same house and shared the same room. She only yielded to my success because she had no other choice, as Allah executes His own will.
Aunt Yagana and Hajja bonded beautifully, conversing like a mother and daughter. They shared identical temperaments, wisdom, and perspectives. It brought me immense joy to see them chatting about life together. Hadiza, on the other hand, capitalized on the environment by doing nothing but eating and sleeping. She got exactly what she wanted, and before two months had passed, she filled out beautifully, her skin glowing radiantly. She spent all her time in air-conditioned comfort, surrounded by excellent food.
When Aunt Yagana prepared for their return journey, Hadiza threw a tantrum, throwing herself down and refusing to leave until I gave birth. Hajja supported her decision, and my husband agreed she should stay since she was currently unmarried. I said nothing because I knew very well she wasn't staying out of sisterly care for me, but rather to indulge her own desires. I laughed silently as I watched her argue with Aunt Yagana, who insisted our father had not authorized this and that they must return together. My husband came downstairs—it being a Saturday, he didn't leave early—and encountered the dispute. He asked Aunt Yagana to yield, promising he would call our father to explain the situation. Reluctantly, she agreed. The moment we entered the room, she unleashed her anger on Hadiza, saying, "We cannot just overstay our welcome under the guise of family relation. The two months we spent here are more than enough!" Hadiza eventually burst into tears, crying, "Aunt Yagana, what is wrong with me wanting to stay and look after my sister? I carry no burden for anyone—no husband, no children. Is it because we don't share the same mother that you constantly discriminate against me? Or do I possess some hidden flaw?"
Feeling terrible about how Aunt Yagana treated her, I intervened, saying, "Hadiza, it's not like that. You misunderstood Aunt Yagana. Please don't interpret her actions that way. It's perfectly fine, you can stay. I highly appreciate your care for me. May Allah preserve our bond." Aunt Yagana listened to us without saying a word, merely letting out loud, frustrated hisses. I understood exactly where she was coming from; she feared Hadiza's presence might lead to an indiscretion that would ruin our family's dignity and respect in the eyes of my husband.
My husband finalized all the travel arrangements for Aunt Yagana, insisting she must return by air because he generally disliked long road trips.
Two days before her departure, a massive conflict erupted between my husband and me. To be entirely honest, I did my absolute best to suppress the issue in my heart, but it proved impossible. Ever since we reconciled, my love for him had become absolute—the kind of love where I couldn't bear to see even a fly get close to him. In reality, his affection for me was fully visible, yet I felt that my immense love and burning jealousy for him far outweighed what he felt for me. I believed I could open up every aspect of my life to him without hiding a single secret, given how highly he regarded me and the grand position he granted me in his heart. Anyone observing us for even a second would instantly recognize the deep love, attachment, and mutual respect between us. For this reason, I firmly believed he would never hide anything from me. Yet, today, he proved to me that he is fundamentally a man, and that the elusive, secretive nature with which Allah created men would never change.
Hauwa is his cousin, and I have no right to sever their family ties, but I swear I never knew they were actively speaking on the phone because he never showed it. My absolute trust in him was the reason I rarely checked his phones, even though he routinely left them right where I sat or left them behind in the room whenever he went out. Initially, I had suspected him due to how he treated me when we first met, but as we lived together, I came to believe his solemn oaths when he swore he had never committed adultery, claiming he had only tested me back then to satisfy a specific need in finding a life partner. Little did I know that Inna Uwani's schemes were on the verge of succeeding while I sat back completely oblivious.
What happened was that after we completed our marital intimacy, I fell fast asleep—which was typical for me now, as I was often too exhausted during our marital relations to contribute much; he did all the work while I frequently dozed off toward the end. While I slept, he went into the bathroom to take a shower. By divine coincidence, his phone, which was placed right by my head, began to ring. I woke up with a start due to the loud ringing filling my ears. I sat up quickly, and my eyes landed directly on the screen, where the name "Dr. Hauwa" was boldly displayed. My heart pounded violently. Staring at the screen, all traces of sleep vanished as I rubbed my eyes, blinking repeatedly at the name. I didn't answer it. Once the call cut off, I opened the call logs and found an uncountable history of missed calls from her. I checked his outgoing logs and saw he had also called her frequently. I checked the messages and found an assortment of texts she had sent him—greetings, well-wishes, and expressions of love. He didn't reply to all of them; out of about thirty texts, he had written brief acknowledgments for barely three. This did not calm my heart because I knew he generally disliked typing, preferring direct phone calls or WhatsApp voice notes; people's messages would often sit for days before he set aside a day to review them. Sometimes he wouldn't even reply, choosing instead to call the person directly.
I put the phone down and lay back down, my heart pounding and boiling with rage. I never realized I possessed such a fierce, burning jealousy until today; my eyes felt heavy and a tight lump choked my throat. When I heard him emerge from the bathroom, I kept my eyes shut and did not move. I heard him pick up the phone, sit right by my feet, and check it. I kept my eyes closed, but I monitored his every movement.
Suddenly, I heard him speak, saying, "Hauwa, how are you? I was showering when you called. How is Inna Uwani? How is your work going?" It turned out he had called her back, assuming I was fast asleep.
Midway through her response, I snapped my eyes open, sat up abruptly, and stared directly at him. He looked at me and quickly muttered into the phone, "Let me call you back in a little while so we can talk, okay?" He hung up, set the phone aside, and said, "Madam, get up and take a bath."
I stared at him, my face twisted in a deep frown. "Why did you cut the call so abruptly, saying you would talk later? It's just Hauwa, after all! What is there to hide from me? Am I even capable of stopping you from marrying her?"
He shook his head and replied, "You cannot stop me, provided I desire her. I possess the authority, and beyond four wives, I can even take concubines."
I countered, "That is exactly how a man is expected to speak! I have long recognized your target, sir. For the sake of God's majesty, go ahead and marry three more women simultaneously; how on earth would that affect Amina?"
He stared at me for a long time with an expression of deep irritation. He usually possessed immense patience whenever we had an argument or dispute, often yielding to me and ignoring whatever harsh words I hurled at him. At other times, however, he would get deeply upset and manifest his anger. From what I could see, my defiance was beginning to push him over the edge.
He barked, "You better watch yourself, Amina! Stop assuming I have turned myself into a fool for your sake, thinking you can treat me with disrespect; we will end up clashing severely. I truly love you, but that will not make me sit idly by while you trample over me. You have nothing to do except exhibit blind jealousy; at the slightest provocation, you interrogate me. Did you give birth to me to cross-examine me with such words? I am telling you, I have the right to four wives right now. It is impossible for Allah to halallize something for me while a woman intimidates me out of it. I am no weakling of a man. Hauwa is my cousin, and I have every right to marry her right now if I wish, so find yourself some peace of mind since I haven't deprived you of your rights."
I snapped back, "Then come out openly and tell us you are marrying Hauwa, so what? I never claimed to be your blood sister anyway; nothing connects me to you except the destiny of marriage. What stopped you from marrying Hauwa all this time? The very woman who, along with her mother, abandoned you in the past is now returning to your life for a hidden agenda. If you want to marry every single member of Hauwa's household, I swear to God I don't care!" I finished my sentence by slapping my thigh and letting out a sharp, frustrated sigh.
In a fit of rage, he slammed his hand against the mattress. I flinched slightly as my heart raced, and I quickly moved further away. His face transformed completely with a level of fury I had never witnessed in him before. He yelled, "By Allah, you are only safe because of the child inside you! If it weren't for that, I would have dealt with you severely! How dare you look into my eyes and speak to me that way, blast you! I didn't give birth to you. Inna Uwani is your elder, and I can look straight into your own father's eyes and speak my mind to him. Have I ever insulted anyone on your account? You possess absolutely no manners, Amina! You take my leniency for granted to say whatever you please to me. I will shock you!"
Of all his words, none cut me as deeply as his insult toward my family. Tears burst forth, and I wept, crying out, "Are you insulting my father? In everything I said, I never slandered you; I spoke the truth and never insulted you. Yet, you look me in the eye and insult my father? Did you give birth to me?"
He let out a loud, frustrated hiss, stood up, and began putting on his clothes. At that moment, Hauwa called his phone again, but he made no move to answer it. I taunted, "Go ahead and pick it up! Your cousin, your own blood is calling you on the phone. I despise hypocrisy!"
He ignored me completely until he finished dressing. He then walked over, sat down close to me, picked up his phone, and called her back. Using the exact intimate tone of voice he reserves exclusively for me when we are under the covers, he spoke to Hauwa: "My love, what is it, hmm? Rest assured, everything will be taken care of, by God's grace. There are very important matters I need to discuss with you. God willing, once I find some free time at the end of this month, I will travel down to Bauchi so we can discuss it fully. Extend my greetings to Inna Uwani."
As she responded, he stood up with the phone pressed to his ear and headed for the door. In an aggressive, frantic rush, I attempted to spring off the bed, but the blanket caught my feet, causing me to crash heavily to the floor.
Startled by the noise, he spun around in panic. I struggled to my feet; despite the sharp pain racking my body, it did not stop me from confronting him. He quickly turned the doorknob and stepped out, showing that he had completely had enough of the drama—otherwise, he would have stayed to fight it out. I caught up to him on the balcony before he could head downstairs. I grabbed him from behind, locking him in a tight grip as if preparing to wrestle. Driven entirely by blind rage, I lost all sense of judgment and simply wept hysterically, holding onto him with an iron grip. Hearing my loud, unrestrained wailing, Hajja and Aunt Yagana rushed upstairs in an absolute panic.
He was entirely flustered, trying to turn around to secure his grip on me while repeating, "Take it easy with everything! Look at what you are doing. Is this necessary? Why are you creating a scene? I haven't wronged you!"
Seeing Hajja approaching the staircase, I screamed out, "Just because you want to get married, you confront me and..."
2. Summary of the Original Story
This text is a continuation of the contemporary Hausa family drama/fiction surrounding the protagonist, Amina, and her wealthy husband, Tajo.
The Climax and Confrontation: Days before Yagana's departure, Amina discovers numerous missed calls, outgoing logs, and affectionate text messages exchanged between Tajo and his cousin, Dr. Hauwa. When she confronts him for sneaking around, Tajo loses his temper, reasserts his polygamous rights, defends his cousin, and insults Amina's father. The argument escalates violently; Tajo calls Hauwa back using an intimate tone right in front of Amina, provoking her to jump out of bed. She trips, falls heavily, and chases him to the balcony, grabbing him from behind in a hysterical meltdown just as Hajja and Aunt Yagana rush upstairs.
3. Character Description
Dr. Hauwa: Tajo's cousin and an educated professional. Although she previously rejected or ignored Tajo, she and her mother are now aggressively pursuing him through affectionate text messages and persistent phone calls.
4. Literary Analytics