“You are a big liar Nazbeer, sure I will fire you!”
Nazbeer’s body began to tremble violently. He launched into frantic oaths, swearing repeatedly that everything he had said was the absolute truth. However, his employer refused to listen to him. He picked up his ringing phone instead, answering in a softened voice, “Hello, My Ninie...”
“Salamu alaikum.”
The deep, unfamiliar voice of a strange man struck his eardrums.
Amjad hesitated. “Wa alaikum Salam. Who is th—”
He was abruptly cut off before he could finish. “Is this Amjad?”
"Yeah," he answered, forcing a tone of strength despite the sudden wave of apprehension and dread that washed over him regarding what might come next.
“In the name of Allah, we need you to come to the General Hospital immediately. The female owner of this phone has been involved in a critical accident. Before she lost consciousness, she managed to give us your number and urgently requested that we call you to her side.”
Amjad's breath caught. “Where is she right now?”
“Just get here first.”
"I am already standing right outside the entrance of the Emergency Ward," Amjad replied.
"Okay, hold on. Let me come out and escort you inside," the man said before hanging up.
Amjad turned his gaze toward Nazbeer, who was standing perfectly still, wide-eyed and paralyzed with anxiety. Amjad stared at him for a quiet moment, then looked away coldly without uttering a single word.
Just then, a doctor emerged from the corridor. The security operatives who had arrived alongside the ambulance stepped forward immediately, asking anxiously, “What is the situation, Doctor?”
"She is stable, but we are still actively working on her," the doctor replied. He then turned, his eyes widening in immense surprise as he recognized the man standing before him. “Your Excellency! I had no idea it was you.”
Amjad merely gave a brief nod of acknowledgment.
Now, you might be wondering why Amjad was treated with such profound reverence and prestige everywhere he went. To be clear, this elite treatment wasn't unique to him alone; every single child of the legendary tycoon Hashim Darwin commanded an extraordinary level of respect across the globe, far beyond the borders of the nation of Nifaz. However, the prestige afforded to Amjad completely eclipsed that of his siblings. This was because Alhaji Hashim had intentionally pushed Amjad into the global spotlight, and it was a known fact that Amjad was the closest to his father's heart. While siblings like Awais could walk into certain elite circles without their faces being immediately recognized as Hashim Darwin's children, Amjad’s name and face were known to everyone, down to the youngest child.
"In the name of Allah, let us proceed inside," the doctor said, turning back toward the ward.
Amjad followed him closely, walking deep into the facility until they reached the treatment room where Nayrah lay. The very moment he caught sight of her through the doorway, he felt every nerve in his body tighten in shock. His beautiful Nayrah had been reduced to this critical state in less than an hour. Truly, Allah handles His servants exactly as He wills; if Allah does not decree a single step in a human life, it will never happen, swear to Allah.
Steeling his emotions with immense masculine discipline, Amjad walked up to the side of the hospital bed. Nayrah's eyes were wide open. She fixed him with a deeply emotional, heartbreaking gaze, tears pooling rapidly in her eyes. Moving instinctively, he immediately took her frail hand in his, shaking his head gently as he whispered, “Ninie...!”
Interrupting him in a frail, cracked voice that betrayed the severe trauma of her critical condition, she breathed, "Amour... so you actually came to me. Amour, please, let me die with my dream come true..." She paused, gasping painfully for air, before forcing out the words: “I want to be your wife, even if it means it is the absolute last thing I do in this world. Amour, I swear by Allah, everything I said to you earlier was a lie. It didn't come from my heart. Right now, I feel as though dea—”
Amjad immediately placed his fingers over her lips, cutting her off while shaking his head firmly. Squeezing her eyes shut at his gesture, the heavy tears that had gathered in her eyelids finally spilled over and tracked down her pale cheeks. Amjad forced a reassuring smile, though anyone looking closely could tell it was a mask born of sheer willpower; his eyes had shifted to a dangerous hue, and the veins on his forehead and temples bulged intensely.
“Nayrah!”
Slowly, she opened her eyes and locked them onto his.
“Do you accept to marry me, exactly as I am right now, and regardless of whatever condition you find me in down the road?”
She closed and opened her eyes in a firm, deliberate nod.
“Are you fully prepared to face every single challenge and tribulation that comes with being bound to me?”
This time, channeling all her inner confidence, she managed to nod her head explicitly.
“Will you be able to stay by my side, even if it turns out I am completely different from the man you imagine me to be?”
"I will stay with you no matter what or who you are, Amour. Even if the entire world turns its back on you, I will stand by your side until the very end of my life," she declared, her voice cracking and seizing violently as she fought for breath.
At that moment, a team of specialized doctors arrived at the bedside alongside the first physician. Amjad stepped back slightly to grant them space, but he firmly refused to let go of her hand, keeping it tightly encased in his. The medical team examined her rapidly before wheeling in an oxygen cylinder, adjusting the valves, and securing the mask over her face as they noticed her respiration dropping to a dangerously low level. Her eyes remained locked onto his, her hand resting securely in his grasp until the doctors finished administering her emergency treatments and moved on to the next patient's bed.
Exhaling a long, heavy breath, Amjad leaned in and vowed, “My Ninie, I give you my sacred promise that tomorrow, our marriage vows will be officially solemnized, by the grace of Allah. I am fully ready to confront any obstacle, tragedy, or problem, as long as it brings joy and peace to your heart.”
She offered him a weak, grateful smile. He reached out, gently wiping away the tears staining the sides of her eyes, and turned around to exit the room.
At that exact moment, Mama and Dad burst through the door in a state of absolute, frantic panic. The sight of Amjad standing inside the room instantly caused Dad’s rage to erupt.
"Aha! So you are the absolute curse, the orchestrator of calamity who is trying to murder my daughter!" Dad roared, his voice shaking with fury. “Did I not expressly warn you never to show your face anywhere near my child again?! Okay, let's put that aside—the very moment she informs you that her marriage is scheduled for tomorrow, you go underground and arrange for that poor young groom to be assassinated, don't you? Did you honestly believe your crimes would remain hidden from the world?!”
Amjad merely stared back at Dad silently, his expression as completely detached as if he were watching an unbothered program on a television screen. Nayrah, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes, prayed desperately in her heart that Amjad would not open his mouth to retaliate. She knew his true nature; she knew that if it weren't for the fact that this man was her father, no human being alive would have the audacity to stand before Amjad and speak to him in such an unvarnished, insulting manner without facing immediate, devastating consequences.
Exercising an extraordinary amount of self-control, Amjad completely ignored Dad's wild accusations. He lowered his voice respectfully and said, “Dad, I am begging for a single favor from you. I want to be officially married to Nayrah tomorrow.”
"What kind of favor are you asking for, or are you simply issuing a command to me as if you were my own father?!" Dad spat back venomously. “Hear this: I will never marry my daughter off to a wanted criminal and a degenerate scoundrel who ruins innocent families! The last thing I have to say to you is this: get completely out of my daughter’s life, permanently! Consider yourself warned for the final time.”
Amjad lowered his eyes, his heart burning with a rage so intense it felt as though it would incinerate his chest. He snapped his head up, fully intending to unleash a devastating verbal retaliation, but his furious gaze landed directly on Nayrah, who was weeping silently from her bed. Furthermore, the surrounding patients had turned all their attention toward the dramatic scene.
Controlling his impulse at the last second, Amjad abruptly turned on his heel and strode out of the ward, his steps heavy and rigid, though he maintained an air of absolute indifference.
"No matter where you run, the law will hunt you down!" Dad screamed after his retreating back. “If you think your family's vast wealth and elite status will protect you, remember that the groom's father is a man of great power as well, and he will never let you get away with this!”
"Alhaji, lower your voice, for the love of Allah!" Mama intervened frantically. “Look at the critical condition your daughter is in first, for heaven's sake!”
"Leave me alone!" Alhaji snapped at her. “If people like you are paid off, you lose all your dignity and fail to fight for your own rights!”
The attending doctor stepped back into the room, his face stern. “Control yourself, Your Excellency. You are an elder, and this behavior is entirely unacceptable. If you have family grievances, wait until you return home to discuss them. This is a medical facility for the sick, so keep your voice down.”
Dad fell silent, letting out a bitter, resentful grunt.
### Section 2: Amjad's Secret Orders
Upon exiting the building, Amjad marched straight toward his luxury vehicle. Kamal and the rest of his security detail moved to follow him, but he ordered them to halt, stating that he wasn't leaving the premises yet and that they should wait for him right there.
He pulled out his phone, tapped the screen rapidly to execute a sequence of commands, and then held it to his ear while keeping his eyes fixed on the hospital courtyard. Within less than two minutes, the phone began to ring.
He answered immediately, his tone sharp: “Did you receive the encrypted file?”
The response from the other end of the line was inaudible, but Amjad spoke again, his voice cutting like steel: “I want every single thing finalized and completed within the next three hours.”
He went silent, listening closely to the person on the other end, before adding, “Yes, tell her. I will be heading over to their sector later this evening anyway.”
He paused again for a brief moment. “Once you arrive there, call me immediately so I can patch them through together.”
With that, he terminated the call. As he turned around with the intention of heading back inside the hospital, he caught a sudden, fleeting glimpse of a figure ducking behind his car. Amjad froze for a moment, his analytical mind deducing that he was being actively tailed and spied upon. However, keeping his composure, he lifted his foot and calmly walked back inside the hospital building.
### Section 3: The Hospital Courtyard and an Unsettling Encounter
Meanwhile, in another part of the hospital, Hushaima returned from escorting young Shazeen outside to use the restroom. She scanned the area anxiously but couldn't find Sahnish anywhere. She hurried back to the benches where she had left him sitting, only to find a complete stranger occupying the seat.
"Salamu alaikum, sir," Hushaima greeted anxiously. “In the name of Allah, did you happen to see where the sick young man who was sitting right here went?”
"I believe he followed right behind you two when you walked out," the man replied, standing up and heading into the building.
"Okay, thank you," she said, turning around in a rush.
Nearby, Dad was pacing back and forth, holding his phone to his ear and unleashing a torrent of furious abuse at whoever was on the other end of the line. He suddenly paused, hung up the call, shoved his phone into his pocket, and stared intensely at Hushaima's retreating back as she hurried away.
Hushaima walked out toward the courtyard, her mind completely disoriented with worry because Sahnish was terribly ill and she had no idea where he had gone to look for them. In her distracted state, she completely failed to see a man walking directly toward her. Her shoulder slammed heavily into **Amjad's** shoulder as she tried to pass.
She spun around in shock, and Amjad stopped, turning his head to look at her. His piercing eyes locked onto hers for a fraction of a second. Then, treating her as a complete irrelevance, he turned back around and walked away as if nothing had happened. Seeing him dismiss her, Hushaima grabbed Shazeen’s hand and hurried out toward the front gates.
There, she finally spotted Sahnish standing near the entrance, looking around frantically in search of them.
"You completely terrified me, swear to Allah!" Hushaima scolded him. “You are terribly ill, yet you left your seat to come stand out here in the heat after I told you to wait inside. Do you want the hospital air to make your exhaustion even worse?”
"Well, you said you were just taking her to the restroom, but then you both completely disappeared," Sahnish replied defensively. “I got tired of sitting there, swear to Allah. We have been trapped in this place since 4:00 PM.”
“There was a long queue, Sahnish, it couldn't be helped. Let's just go home. Where is the bag of medications?”
"Right here in my hand," he said, lifting the plastic bag to show her.
They began to walk away, but Hushaima suddenly froze in her tracks as if she had forgotten something. She spun around rapidly, her eyes scanning the hospital entrance once more. The image of Amjad’s face was flashing vividly through her brain; she felt an unsettling sensation that he looked exactly like someone she knew intimately, but her mind simply could not recall where or when she had met him.
"Is everything alright?" Sahnish asked, his eyes following her gaze toward the building.
She shook her head, dismissing the thought. "It's nothing." She pulled Shazeen by the hand, and they walked ahead. No one said another word as they flagged down a commercial tricycle (*Tuktuk*) and climbed inside. Sahnish remained completely silent during the ride, a heavy weight on his chest because he knew they had completely run out of money.
### Section 4: The Compound’s Malice and a Broken Fare
The Tuktuk driver dropped them right outside the gate of their shared tenement compound. As they stepped out, Hushaima turned to the driver and said, “Hold on, let me step inside and fetch your money.”
"Alright," the driver grunted.
They walked into the compound. Sahnish turned to her anxiously and whispered, “Where on earth are we going to find the money to pay him?”
"Just go straight to your room and lie down!" Hushaima snapped in a stressed whisper. “Stop asking me where I'm going to get it. Leave me alone, my head is absolutely pounding right now, for Allah's sake.”
"May Allah grant you patience. Goodnight," Sahnish muttered, retreating meekly into his room. Hushaima walked into her own quarters, slamming the door shut and completely ignoring the driver waiting outside.
After waiting in vain for his fare, the Tuktuk driver grew impatient. He pushed the compound gate open and strode into the courtyard. "Excuse me, everyone!" he called out loudly. His rough, aggressive demeanor matched the typical street-hardened personalities of the compound's residents.
"Hey! What gives you the right to just barge into people's private compound like this, mister?" Yar Charas barked, shooting him a venomous glare as she took in his dusty clothes and worn-out shoes.
“Look, I am waiting for a woman I just dropped off. She told me she was coming inside to get my money, but she has completely disappeared.”
"Her door is right over there," Shamsy, a flamboyant cross-dresser, said while sitting among the young women of the house, meticulously applying makeup like a woman. “Move away from our space, please, before you pollute the very air we breathe.”
Ignoring the insults, the driver marched straight to Hushaima’s door and began to pound on it violently.
"Mister, don't hold back! Pound on that door until it breaks!" an elderly woman who was shelling peanuts called out maliciously from the corner. “If you don't force her out, she will pretend to be fast asleep and make a fool out of you.”
Inside, hearing the violent pounding that threatened to shatter her door, Hushaima collected the very last of their hidden household savings, shoved the small stash securely beneath her mattress, and marched out of the room with a cold, hardened expression.
"What is the meaning of this noise?" she demanded.
"What do you mean 'what is the meaning'?! Give me my money, lady!" the driver shouted, thrusting his hand aggressively toward her face.
"Did you leave your wealth in my safekeeping that you now demand it from me so arrogantly?" she countered, tossing him a thoroughly condescending, dismissive look.
“In the name of Allah, do not play mind games with me! Just hand over my fare right now!”
Hushaima let out a wicked, mocking sneer from the side of her mouth, making a sharp, clicking sound with her teeth. “The money is gone; I spent it. And I will never hand over a single penny to you with my own hands. Furthermore, look at you—are you telling me that the person you are working for pays you so poorly that you are willing to burst the veins in your neck over a pathetic fare that isn't even up to a thousand Naira?!”
"What did you just say?!" the driver roared in absolute fury. “Don't look at me and think you can intimidate me with your street-girl arrogance! The streets raised me too, swear to Allah! I will completely humiliate you right here if you don't give me my money, you bastard!”
Hushaima locked her eyes into his with lethal intensity. She turned her head toward the residents lounging in the courtyard and commanded in a loud, ringing voice, “Lock the main gates of this compound right now, and come earn your blessings from Allah by clearing out this trash!”
The driver took a nervous step back, his bravado wavering. “What do you mean 'lock the gates'? What are you trying to do?!”
From across the yard, Aunty Barma shot Hushaima a filthy, disapproving look. “What do you mean 'lock the gates for you'? Just give the man his money if you have it and let him get out of here!”
Completely ignoring Aunty Barma's intervention, Hushaima glared at the driver and hissed, “Before I completely expose your secrets and ruin you, drag your ragged feet out of this compound right now. Swear to Allah, I am far more powerful than any petty fraudster or conspirator like you.”
The driver spat on the ground, his rage blinding his judgment. "I am leaving right now, but I swear I will return! And you *will* pay me every single dime, because you cannot consume my money and think you can put on a display of pride and power over me!" He spun on his heel and stormed out of the compound.
Hushaima stood frozen, shaking her head and tracking his exit with a dark, inscrutable gaze whose true meaning only she understood. She then turned and retreated into her room, her mind consumed by a whirlwind of dangerous calculations.
The moment her door closed, the courtyard erupted into a frenzy of malicious gossip targeting Hushaima. The entire compound harbored a deep resentment toward her, with the sole exceptions of Baba Ilerika, Kawu Garba, and Jey—the latter being a man who strictly minded his own business and never interfered
1: The Emergency Call and Amjad's Elite Status
“You are a big liar Nazbeer, sure I will fire you!”
Nazbeer’s body began to tremble violently. He launched into frantic oaths, swearing repeatedly that everything he had said was the absolute truth. However, his employer refused to listen to him. He picked up his ringing phone instead, answering in a softened voice, “Hello, My Ninie...”
“Salamu alaikum.”
The deep, unfamiliar voice of a strange man struck his eardrums.
Amjad hesitated. “Wa alaikum Salam. Who is th—”
He was abruptly cut off before he could finish. “Is this Amjad?”
"Yeah," he answered, forcing a tone of strength despite the sudden wave of apprehension and dread that washed over him regarding what might come next.
“In the name of Allah, we need you to come to the General Hospital immediately. The female owner of this phone has been involved in a critical accident. Before she lost consciousness, she managed to give us your number and urgently requested that we call you to her side.”
Amjad's breath caught. “Where is she right now?”
“Just get here first.”
"I am already standing right outside the entrance of the Emergency Ward," Amjad replied.
"Okay, hold on. Let me come out and escort you inside," the man said before hanging up.
Amjad turned his gaze toward Nazbeer, who was standing perfectly still, wide-eyed and paralyzed with anxiety. Amjad stared at him for a quiet moment, then looked away coldly without uttering a single word.
Just then, a doctor emerged from the corridor. The security operatives who had arrived alongside the ambulance stepped forward immediately, asking anxiously, “What is the situation, Doctor?”
"She is stable, but we are still actively working on her," the doctor replied. He then turned, his eyes widening in immense surprise as he recognized the man standing before him. “Your Excellency! I had no idea it was you.”
Amjad merely gave a brief nod of acknowledgment.
Now, you might be wondering why Amjad was treated with such profound reverence and prestige everywhere he went. To be clear, this elite treatment wasn't unique to him alone; every single child of the legendary tycoon Hashim Darwin commanded an extraordinary level of respect across the globe, far beyond the borders of the nation of Nifaz. However, the prestige afforded to Amjad completely eclipsed that of his siblings. This was because Alhaji Hashim had intentionally pushed Amjad into the global spotlight, and it was a known fact that Amjad was the closest to his father's heart. While siblings like Awais could walk into certain elite circles without their faces being immediately recognized as Hashim Darwin's children, Amjad’s name and face were known to everyone, down to the youngest child.
"In the name of Allah, let us proceed inside," the doctor said, turning back toward the ward.
Amjad followed him closely, walking deep into the facility until they reached the treatment room where Nayrah lay. The very moment he caught sight of her through the doorway, he felt every nerve in his body tighten in shock. His beautiful Nayrah had been reduced to this critical state in less than an hour. Truly, Allah handles His servants exactly as He wills; if Allah does not decree a single step in a human life, it will never happen, swear to Allah.
Steeling his emotions with immense masculine discipline, Amjad walked up to the side of the hospital bed. Nayrah's eyes were wide open. She fixed him with a deeply emotional, heartbreaking gaze, tears pooling rapidly in her eyes. Moving instinctively, he immediately took her frail hand in his, shaking his head gently as he whispered, “Ninie...!”
Interrupting him in a frail, cracked voice that betrayed the severe trauma of her critical condition, she breathed, "Amour... so you actually came to me. Amour, please, let me die with my dream come true..." She paused, gasping painfully for air, before forcing out the words: “I want to be your wife, even if it means it is the absolute last thing I do in this world. Amour, I swear by Allah, everything I said to you earlier was a lie. It didn't come from my heart. Right now, I feel as though dea—”
Amjad immediately placed his fingers over her lips, cutting her off while shaking his head firmly. Squeezing her eyes shut at his gesture, the heavy tears that had gathered in her eyelids finally spilled over and tracked down her pale cheeks. Amjad forced a reassuring smile, though anyone looking closely could tell it was a mask born of sheer willpower; his eyes had shifted to a dangerous hue, and the veins on his forehead and temples bulged intensely.
“Nayrah!”
Slowly, she opened her eyes and locked them onto his.
“Do you accept to marry me, exactly as I am right now, and regardless of whatever condition you find me in down the road?”
She closed and opened her eyes in a firm, deliberate nod.
“Are you fully prepared to face every single challenge and tribulation that comes with being bound to me?”
This time, channeling all her inner confidence, she managed to nod her head explicitly.
“Will you be able to stay by my side, even if it turns out I am completely different from the man you imagine me to be?”
"I will stay with you no matter what or who you are, Amour. Even if the entire world turns its back on you, I will stand by your side until the very end of my life," she declared, her voice cracking and seizing violently as she fought for breath.
At that moment, a team of specialized doctors arrived at the bedside alongside the first physician. Amjad stepped back slightly to grant them space, but he firmly refused to let go of her hand, keeping it tightly encased in his. The medical team examined her rapidly before wheeling in an oxygen cylinder, adjusting the valves, and securing the mask over her face as they noticed her respiration dropping to a dangerously low level. Her eyes remained locked onto his, her hand resting securely in his grasp until the doctors finished administering her emergency treatments and moved on to the next patient's bed.
Exhaling a long, heavy breath, Amjad leaned in and vowed, “My Ninie, I give you my sacred promise that tomorrow, our marriage vows will be officially solemnized, by the grace of Allah. I am fully ready to confront any obstacle, tragedy, or problem, as long as it brings joy and peace to your heart.”
She offered him a weak, grateful smile. He reached out, gently wiping away the tears staining the sides of her eyes, and turned around to exit the room.
At that exact moment, Mama and Dad burst through the door in a state of absolute, frantic panic. The sight of Amjad standing inside the room instantly caused Dad’s rage to erupt.
"Aha! So you are the absolute curse, the orchestrator of calamity who is trying to murder my daughter!" Dad roared, his voice shaking with fury. “Did I not expressly warn you never to show your face anywhere near my child again?! Okay, let's put that aside—the very moment she informs you that her marriage is scheduled for tomorrow, you go underground and arrange for that poor young groom to be assassinated, don't you? Did you honestly believe your crimes would remain hidden from the world?!”
Amjad merely stared back at Dad silently, his expression as completely detached as if he were watching an unbothered program on a television screen. Nayrah, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes, prayed desperately in her heart that Amjad would not open his mouth to retaliate. She knew his true nature; she knew that if it weren't for the fact that this man was her father, no human being alive would have the audacity to stand before Amjad and speak to him in such an unvarnished, insulting manner without facing immediate, devastating consequences.
Exercising an extraordinary amount of self-control, Amjad completely ignored Dad's wild accusations. He lowered his voice respectfully and said, “Dad, I am begging for a single favor from you. I want to be officially married to Nayrah tomorrow.”
"What kind of favor are you asking for, or are you simply issuing a command to me as if you were my own father?!" Dad spat back venomously. “Hear this: I will never marry my daughter off to a wanted criminal and a degenerate scoundrel who ruins innocent families! The last thing I have to say to you is this: get completely out of my daughter’s life, permanently! Consider yourself warned for the final time.”
Amjad lowered his eyes, his heart burning with a rage so intense it felt as though it would incinerate his chest. He snapped his head up, fully intending to unleash a devastating verbal retaliation, but his furious gaze landed directly on Nayrah, who was weeping silently from her bed. Furthermore, the surrounding patients had turned all their attention toward the dramatic scene.
Controlling his impulse at the last second, Amjad abruptly turned on his heel and strode out of the ward, his steps heavy and rigid, though he maintained an air of absolute indifference.
"No matter where you run, the law will hunt you down!" Dad screamed after his retreating back. “If you think your family's vast wealth and elite status will protect you, remember that the groom's father is a man of great power as well, and he will never let you get away with this!”
"Alhaji, lower your voice, for the love of Allah!" Mama intervened frantically. “Look at the critical condition your daughter is in first, for heaven's sake!”
"Leave me alone!" Alhaji snapped at her. “If people like you are paid off, you lose all your dignity and fail to fight for your own rights!”
The attending doctor stepped back into the room, his face stern. “Control yourself, Your Excellency. You are an elder, and this behavior is entirely unacceptable. If you have family grievances, wait until you return home to discuss them. This is a medical facility for the sick, so keep your voice down.”
Dad fell silent, letting out a bitter, resentful grunt.
### Section 2: Amjad's Secret Orders
Upon exiting the building, Amjad marched straight toward his luxury vehicle. Kamal and the rest of his security detail moved to follow him, but he ordered them to halt, stating that he wasn't leaving the premises yet and that they should wait for him right there.
He pulled out his phone, tapped the screen rapidly to execute a sequence of commands, and then held it to his ear while keeping his eyes fixed on the hospital courtyard. Within less than two minutes, the phone began to ring.
He answered immediately, his tone sharp: “Did you receive the encrypted file?”
The response from the other end of the line was inaudible, but Amjad spoke again, his voice cutting like steel: “I want every single thing finalized and completed within the next three hours.”
He went silent, listening closely to the person on the other end, before adding, “Yes, tell her. I will be heading over to their sector later this evening anyway.”
He paused again for a brief moment. “Once you arrive there, call me immediately so I can patch them through together.”
With that, he terminated the call. As he turned around with the intention of heading back inside the hospital, he caught a sudden, fleeting glimpse of a figure ducking behind his car. Amjad froze for a moment, his analytical mind deducing that he was being actively tailed and spied upon. However, keeping his composure, he lifted his foot and calmly walked back inside the hospital building.
### Section 3: The Hospital Courtyard and an Unsettling Encounter
Meanwhile, in another part of the hospital, Hushaima returned from escorting young Shazeen outside to use the restroom. She scanned the area anxiously but couldn't find Sahnish anywhere. She hurried back to the benches where she had left him sitting, only to find a complete stranger occupying the seat.
"Salamu alaikum, sir," Hushaima greeted anxiously. “In the name of Allah, did you happen to see where the sick young man who was sitting right here went?”
"I believe he followed right behind you two when you walked out," the man replied, standing up and heading into the building.
"Okay, thank you," she said, turning around in a rush.
Nearby, Dad was pacing back and forth, holding his phone to his ear and unleashing a torrent of furious abuse at whoever was on the other end of the line. He suddenly paused, hung up the call, shoved his phone into his pocket, and stared intensely at Hushaima's retreating back as she hurried away.
Hushaima walked out toward the courtyard, her mind completely disoriented with worry because Sahnish was terribly ill and she had no idea where he had gone to look for them. In her distracted state, she completely failed to see a man walking directly toward her. Her shoulder slammed heavily into **Amjad's** shoulder as she tried to pass.
She spun around in shock, and Amjad stopped, turning his head to look at her. His piercing eyes locked onto hers for a fraction of a second. Then, treating her as a complete irrelevance, he turned back around and walked away as if nothing had happened. Seeing him dismiss her, Hushaima grabbed Shazeen’s hand and hurried out toward the front gates.
There, she finally spotted Sahnish standing near the entrance, looking around frantically in search of them.
"You completely terrified me, swear to Allah!" Hushaima scolded him. “You are terribly ill, yet you left your seat to come stand out here in the heat after I told you to wait inside. Do you want the hospital air to make your exhaustion even worse?”
"Well, you said you were just taking her to the restroom, but then you both completely disappeared," Sahnish replied defensively. “I got tired of sitting there, swear to Allah. We have been trapped in this place since 4:00 PM.”
“There was a long queue, Sahnish, it couldn't be helped. Let's just go home. Where is the bag of medications?”
"Right here in my hand," he said, lifting the plastic bag to show her.
They began to walk away, but Hushaima suddenly froze in her tracks as if she had forgotten something. She spun around rapidly, her eyes scanning the hospital entrance once more. The image of Amjad’s face was flashing vividly through her brain; she felt an unsettling sensation that he looked exactly like someone she knew intimately, but her mind simply could not recall where or when she had met him.
"Is everything alright?" Sahnish asked, his eyes following her gaze toward the building.
She shook her head, dismissing the thought. "It's nothing." She pulled Shazeen by the hand, and they walked ahead. No one said another word as they flagged down a commercial tricycle (*Tuktuk*) and climbed inside. Sahnish remained completely silent during the ride, a heavy weight on his chest because he knew they had completely run out of money.
### Section 4: The Compound’s Malice and a Broken Fare
The Tuktuk driver dropped them right outside the gate of their shared tenement compound. As they stepped out, Hushaima turned to the driver and said, “Hold on, let me step inside and fetch your money.”
"Alright," the driver grunted.
They walked into the compound. Sahnish turned to her anxiously and whispered, “Where on earth are we going to find the money to pay him?”
"Just go straight to your room and lie down!" Hushaima snapped in a stressed whisper. “Stop asking me where I'm going to get it. Leave me alone, my head is absolutely pounding right now, for Allah's sake.”
"May Allah grant you patience. Goodnight," Sahnish muttered, retreating meekly into his room. Hushaima walked into her own quarters, slamming the door shut and completely ignoring the driver waiting outside.
After waiting in vain for his fare, the Tuktuk driver grew impatient. He pushed the compound gate open and strode into the courtyard. "Excuse me, everyone!" he called out loudly. His rough, aggressive demeanor matched the typical street-hardened personalities of the compound's residents.
"Hey! What gives you the right to just barge into people's private compound like this, mister?" Yar Charas barked, shooting him a venomous glare as she took in his dusty clothes and worn-out shoes.
“Look, I am waiting for a woman I just dropped off. She told me she was coming inside to get my money, but she has completely disappeared.”
"Her door is right over there," Shamsy, a flamboyant cross-dresser, said while sitting among the young women of the house, meticulously applying makeup like a woman. “Move away from our space, please, before you pollute the very air we breathe.”
Ignoring the insults, the driver marched straight to Hushaima’s door and began to pound on it violently.
"Mister, don't hold back! Pound on that door until it breaks!" an elderly woman who was shelling peanuts called out maliciously from the corner. “If you don't force her out, she will pretend to be fast asleep and make a fool out of you.”
Inside, hearing the violent pounding that threatened to shatter her door, Hushaima collected the very last of their hidden household savings, shoved the small stash securely beneath her mattress, and marched out of the room with a cold, hardened expression.
"What is the meaning of this noise?" she demanded.
"What do you mean 'what is the meaning'?! Give me my money, lady!" the driver shouted, thrusting his hand aggressively toward her face.
"Did you leave your wealth in my safekeeping that you now demand it from me so arrogantly?" she countered, tossing him a thoroughly condescending, dismissive look.
“In the name of Allah, do not play mind games with me! Just hand over my fare right now!”
Hushaima let out a wicked, mocking sneer from the side of her mouth, making a sharp, clicking sound with her teeth. “The money is gone; I spent it. And I will never hand over a single penny to you with my own hands. Furthermore, look at you—are you telling me that the person you are working for pays you so poorly that you are willing to burst the veins in your neck over a pathetic fare that isn't even up to a thousand Naira?!”
"What did you just say?!" the driver roared in absolute fury. “Don't look at me and think you can intimidate me with your street-girl arrogance! The streets raised me too, swear to Allah! I will completely humiliate you right here if you don't give me my money, you bastard!”
Hushaima locked her eyes into his with lethal intensity. She turned her head toward the residents lounging in the courtyard and commanded in a loud, ringing voice, “Lock the main gates of this compound right now, and come earn your blessings from Allah by clearing out this trash!”
The driver took a nervous step back, his bravado wavering. “What do you mean 'lock the gates'? What are you trying to do?!”
From across the yard, Aunty Barma shot Hushaima a filthy, disapproving look. “What do you mean 'lock the gates for you'? Just give the man his money if you have it and let him get out of here!”
Completely ignoring Aunty Barma's intervention, Hushaima glared at the driver and hissed, “Before I completely expose your secrets and ruin you, drag your ragged feet out of this compound right now. Swear to Allah, I am far more powerful than any petty fraudster or conspirator like you.”
The driver spat on the ground, his rage blinding his judgment. "I am leaving right now, but I swear I will return! And you *will* pay me every single dime, because you cannot consume my money and think you can put on a display of pride and power over me!" He spun on his heel and stormed out of the compound.
Hushaima stood frozen, shaking her head and tracking his exit with a dark, inscrutable gaze whose true meaning only she understood. She then turned and retreated into her room, her mind consumed by a whirlwind of dangerous calculations.
The moment her door closed, the courtyard erupted into a frenzy of malicious gossip targeting Hushaima. The entire compound harbored a deep resentment toward her, with the sole exceptions of Baba Ilerika, Kawu Garba, and Jey—the latter being a man who strictly minded his own business and never interfered