"Ali Wali, either address me explicitly as a street thug or a ruthless terrorist, and then we can talk," Moh growled, his face instantly hardening into a dark, menacing scowl. Engineer Ali Wali offered a cold, calculated smile and replied, "With immense gratitude." "Professor Abdu Marafa has inflicted a deep, permanent scar upon the hearts of the youth in this state," Ali Wali continued, his voice dropping into a dangerous register. "He has utterly decimated my reputation, and I feel a burning desire to make him taste the precise equivalent of what he did to me. I want a brutal, unyielding retaliation—the kind of vengeance that tastes sweeter than the original offense. Just as he dragged my name through the mud, I want the historical legacy of his household's moral uprightness and the prestigious name he brags about to be entirely systematically ruined. I want the public to permanently look down upon him as an absolute failure." He fell into an abrupt silence, checking his mobile phone. Seeing that the party chairman was persistently calling him, he rose to his full height. "Beyond the strategic abduction of his precious daughter right from his compound, which you have already executed, I have a deeper mandate for you," Ali Wali sneered, leaning in close. "I want you to forcefully violate Safiyyerh Abdu Marafa. I want you to plant a pregnancy inside Safiyyerh Abdu Marafa's womb. Just imagine the absolute poetry of it: she is legally wedded to another prominent man, yet a completely different man gets her pregnant—and not just any man, but a common street thug. A nameless, faceless criminal entity. Think of it, Mutallab: Safiyyerh will be forced to give birth to a child of absolute illegitimacy, an absolute bastard." "An illegitimate child?" Moh repeated the words aloud, his voice flat, testing the weight of the phrase. Ali Wali scoffed, "What else would you call it? When a man who is legally unrelated to a girl isolates her until she conceives, what name does that pregnancy bear? It is a bastard child; that is exactly how the mathematical equation works. If I were to contract this specific task out to any other operative, Engineer Ali Wali's grand calculations wouldn't be executed to a flawless one hundred percent perfection. This act must be perpetrated by your hands, Mutallab. You must personally impregnate Safiyyerh, because absolute pollution must find its way into the clean vessel of that household." "What specific sin has the girl herself committed to deserve such a fate?" Moh demanded, his brow furrowing. "And besides, regarding this issue of conceiving a child... isn't a pregnancy something that simply happens? Doesn't it just grow naturally on its own without such malicious planning?" "Oh? So you're claiming you don't even understand the mechanics of how a pregnancy is intentionally orchestrated? How old are you exactly?" Ali Wali mocked. "Irrespective of your grand calculations, it will absolutely not happen," Moh stated with rigid finality. Ali Wali simply smiled, unfazed by the resistance. "You will do it, because you have no choice. Write my words down and lock them away securely; when the precise moment comes for you to execute it, you won't even realize what hit you. Now vanish from my sight." Moh didn't give Engineer Ali Wali's psychological threats any serious weight; he turned on his heel and exited the mansion. Deep within the secluded perimeter of the criminal hideout, Safiyyerh firmly secured the heavy structural door from the inside. Turning around, she locked eyes with Goje and requested, "Just secure the raw food provisions for me from the market. I will personally take charge of the daily cooking, and then I can serve the meals directly to you all. Is that an acceptable arrangement?" "Are you claiming you actually possess culinary skills?" Goje asked, skeptical. "What do you mean by culinary skills?" She countered. He clarified, "I am talking about the actual art of cooking." She nodded her head with absolute confidence. Goje rose to his feet, muttering, "If you play your cards right and keep us fed, it will prove you're not completely useless around here." Safiyyerh scanned the compact kitchen space, her eyes widening in mild surprise as she noted the presence of cooking pots, ceramic plates, spoons, a kerosene stove, and various other essential household utensils. Within a remarkably short time, Goje returned from the market, his hands laden with five packs of instant noodles, ten fresh eggs, a variety of blended pepper mix, and seasoning cubes. Handing them over to her, he offered a rare grin: "Make it taste exceptionally good, Manager." Safiyyerh found herself letting out a subtle smile, though deep within her brilliant mind, she was actively formulating a complex strategy to secure an escape route. As they stood there in the communal space, Moh suddenly barged into the safehouse. He froze instantly, his cold eyes locking onto Goje while deliberately refusing to glance in her direction. Safiyyerh watched him intently through lowered eyelashes, observing his powerful, hyper-muscular physique. A profound wave of raw apprehension rippled through her soul; she found herself deeply fearing his erratic presence. "Welcome back, King of the Wilderness," Goje greeted warmly. "May Allah grant you continuous fortitude over your recent loss." Moh completely ignored the greeting, walking past them into the inner chambers. Safiyyerh turned to Goje, her voice laced with sudden curiosity: "Oh? Did he suffer a personal tragedy recently?" "His biological elder sister was brutally abducted," Goje whispered, his voice dark. "It was only yesterday that her body was dumped and recovered; the perpetrators had completely gouged her eyes out." Safiyyerh’s eyes flew wide open in absolute horror, her hand flying to her chest as a profound wave of maternal empathy washed over her. "And despite such a catastrophic loss, he hasn't returned home to be with his grieving family?" She whispered, shaken. "Does he hold no genuine love for his sister, or are you all simply harboring a complete madman in this safehouse?" Goje offered no answer, quickly slipping away from the space to avoid further interrogation. Safiyyerh turned her attention to preparing the instant noodles, intentionally loading the dish with a lethal amount of hot habanero scotch bonnet peppers. It had been an eternity since she had last stepped into a kitchen, and the intense heat from the open flame made her fair complexion turn a vivid, blotchy crimson. Her eyes watered and burned severely from the rising pepper fumes. Forcing herself through the physical discomfort, she portioned out a small, steaming serving onto a ceramic plate for them. Moh emerged and stood silently, watching Goje and Mangal tear into the food like starved, ravenous predators, continuously panting from the intense heat of the spices. He stared at the remaining portion of noodles, then shifted his gaze back to the men. He made a move to exit, but Safiyyerh blocked his path, demanding, "Are you not going to partake in the meal? Furthermore, I require a quiet, clean space to perform my sacred prayers." Both men completely tuned her out. The moment they finalized their meal, they marched out of the compound, firmly slamming and locking the external door behind them. Left entirely isolated in the terrifying quiet, Safiyyerh collapsed onto her knees, drawing her legs tightly against her chest, and began to weep as if her very soul were being torn apart until physical exhaustion pulled her into a deep sleep. Deep within her troubled slumber, she felt a heavy object forcefully tossed onto her form. She snapped her eyes open, jolting awake, and instantly beheld his towering figure standing over her, his back turned to her. A plastic shopping bag lay by her side. She quickly unfastened the bag and discovered two high-quality long flowing dresses, a proper matching hijab, and a pair of fitted shoes. A wave of absolute bewilderment washed over her—how on earth did this dangerous criminal entity possess precise knowledge of her clothing and shoe sizes? She scrambled to her feet. Sensing her approaching figure, Moh immediately marched toward the exit, but Safiyyerh moved with blinding corporate agility, completely cutting him off and blocking the door. He froze in his tracks. She stared directly into his intense eyes, demanding answers: "Are you completely incapable of human speech? Can you not manage even a single, subtle smile? Before I eventually secure my freedom from this place, why don't we establish a mutual truce and become allies?" She confidently extended her hand toward him. Moh lowered his gaze, staring intently at her delicate, pristine hand, noting the elegant slim ring gracing her slender, perfectly manicured fingers. "I am Safiyyerh Abdu Marafa," she declared, her voice firm. "And who exactly are you?" Moh maintained an absolute, unyielding silence. Safiyyerh tilted her head gracefully to the side, her tone shifting into a persuasive, disarming register: "I genuinely desire to become your confidante. I will share fascinating stories about my father and the profound, limitless love he harbors for me. I will detail the inner workings of the multinational investment corporation I manage, and I will even reveal the tragic history of Ashraf—the man I was fated to marry before death claimed him, leading to my arranged union with the Captain. I will detail the histories of Ummi and my closest companion, Kinal. I am willing to reveal absolutely everything to you. Can we establish an alliance first?" For the third consecutive time, she extended her hand toward him. Deliberately bypassing her outstretched hand, Moh brushed past her frame, unlocked the door, and exited the compound, firmly locking her inside once more. Safiyyerh stood entirely frozen, her extended hand dropping to her side as a wave of intense frustration and bitterness washed over her. This absolute thug behaves with the unyielding arrogance of a billionaire prince, she thought bitterly, his mind consumed by a cold, impenetrable aloofness. She, the elite Corporate Manager, had humbled herself to initiate dialogue, only to be completely disregarded. Did he honestly believe she was speaking to him out of genuine affection, rather than sheer survival instinct? She squeezed her eyes shut as tears flooded her vision. Forcing herself to regain composure, she performed her ablutions and began to perform her back-to-back missed prayers. Suddenly, Goje burst into the safehouse, his face twisted in absolute panic. "Where are you?! Step outside immediately, move!" He barked. Safiyyerh rose, opening her mouth to fiercely argue against his hostile tone, but Moh barged in right behind him. Moving with terrifying authority, Moh reached down and violently clamped his powerful hand around her wrist. Safiyyerh stared down in sheer shock at the stark contrast between his large, dark, battle-scarred hand and her fragile, pristine white wrist. He forcefully dragged her out of the compound and toward a waiting vehicle. Without wasting a single second, he forcefully shoved her into the front passenger seat while Goje scrambled into the back. Mangal stood by the driver's side, completely disoriented, and asked: "Who exactly is going to pilot this vehicle right now? I possess absolutely no driving skills, and neither do you in this physical state!" Moh, who was preparing to slide into the driver's seat, suddenly froze as a calculated realization hit his mind. For the first time since her abduction, he turned his head and locked his gaze directly onto Safiyyerh. When he spoke, she heard his true voice clearly—deep, resonant, and entirely stripped of its usual manic edge: "Relocate over here." A wave of intense dread washed over her. She cautiously stepped out of the passenger side and slid into the driver's seat as he moved over to the passenger side. He forcefully tossed the vehicle keys onto her lap and commanded, "Drive." Whispering the sacred name of Allah, Safiyyerh ignited the engine and put the vehicle in gear. She turned her head slightly, asking, "Where to?" He handed her his personal mobile phone, which he had just brought online. She rapidly analyzed the digital GPS coordinates displayed on the screen and slammed her foot on the accelerator, tearing away from the safehouse perimeter at high speed. Barely a few minutes after their frantic departure, a convoy of heavily armed military vehicles roared to a halt directly outside the abandoned safehouse. Captain Aliyu stepped out of the lead vehicle, his imposing frame clad in a immaculate, crisp military combat uniform that perfectly accentuated his lethal authority. A massive, high-caliber assault rifle hung across his chest. His specialized tactical operators deployed rapidly, their weapons drawn as they systematically swept the external perimeter. Aliyu marched directly into the structure. The moment he crossed the threshold, his heart hammered violently against his ribs at the sight before him: Fiyya’s delicate nightgown lay violently shredded and abandoned on the dirty floor. He knelt down, lifting the fabric, his eyes locking onto a dark, dried patch of fresh blood. Scanning the room, his eyes took in an array of illicit narcotics, crude knives, and iron rods. He squeezed his eyes shut, his voice trembling with a mixture of raw fury and desperation: "Where are you, my wife? Where on earth have they taken my woman?" "Captain, are you absolutely certain the digital tracking array pinpointed this exact location?" His tactical commander asked. Aliyu simply nodded his head, entirely incapable of verbalizing the intense torment consuming his soul. "They managed to execute an emergency extraction," the commander muttered, analyzing the space. "But how on earth did these low-life thugs realize we had compromised their digital location array, allowing them to evacuate the perimeter with such precise, rapid timing?" Aliyu shook his head, signaling his absolute lack of answers. "Maintain your tactical composure, Captain. Your wife will be successfully extracted. Do you genuinely believe they have subject her to further physical trauma?" The commander looked at him grimly. Aliyu silently held up Safiyyerh’s torn nightgown, pointing directly to the fresh bloodstains anchoring the fabric. The commander defaced his face with his hands, uttering fervently, "Innalillahi wa'inna ilaihirraji'un (To Allah we belong, and to Him we shall return). By the grace of the Almighty, it will not be the catastrophic outcome we dread. Let us move out!" They exited the structure, Captain Aliyu resolving deep within his soul that he would unleash absolute military hell to recover his wife. Mutallab navigated their escape toward a completely different, moderately sized residential property that boasted an elegant design, hidden deep within the furthest outskirts of the metropolitan border. They sat in the secure living room, Safiyyerh keeping her gaze cast firmly downward, her mind completely baffled by the deep, unyielding silences that defined this mysterious man. Whenever he sat isolated in his thoughts, he would periodically let out a heavy, agonizing sigh, or lock his piercing eyes onto a singular spot on the wall for hours on end. A full week elapsed with absolutely no breakthrough regarding Safiyyerh's high-profile abduction. No ransom calls were received, and no communication demands were made. Professor Abdu Marafa explicitly enacted a total media blackout, strictly barring the family or authorities from leaking the case to social media platforms or radio stations, insisting that the crisis be managed entirely in the shadows. Back at the elite medical wing, Daddy lay weakly on his hospital bed, an intravenous line continuously delivering fluids into his arm. Turning his frail head toward Aliyu, his voice dropped into a raspy, emotionally exhausted whisper: "Aliyu... who authorized your intervention?" "She is my legal wife, Daddy," Aliyu countered flatly. "And? Does that fact magically grant you immunity from operational protocol? Are you operating as a rogue police investigator or a professional military soldier?" "I am entirely prepared to weaponize my military uniform, or operate completely outside the confines of the law if necessary," Aliyu snapped, his eyes flashing with a dangerous intensity. "She represents my absolute responsibility now, and I am legally and morally bound to defend my sacred trust. I would consider myself an absolute coward, a useless failure of a man, if I failed to personally hunt down and recover my Safii. Do not attempt to de-escalate my operational drive, Daddy. Let the civilian police forces execute their slow bureaucratic investigations—I will execute mine." "Extract your hands from this toxic quagmire entirely, Aliyu," Daddy commanded, his voice shaking. "Understood. I will stand down—but give me one logical, irrefutable justification as to why I should." "Aliyu, have you completely failed to comprehend that if you push these monsters into a corner, they will instantly execute her?" Daddy pleaded, tears of desperation forming in his eyes. "You have absolutely no conception of the sheer depravity of the syndicates we are dealing with! Every single thread of information you are gathering in the shadows belongs entirely to a larger chess game between myself and Zahiyerh! Do not make a catastrophic blunder that will result in the immediate liquidation of Maama’s life, I beg of you! These individuals possess absolutely no moral code or human decency—and furthermore, it appears that Superintendent Ghali is deeply embedded within their entire network." Aliyu abruptly rose to his feet, marching directly toward the exit door. "I am profoundly sorry, Daddy," he uttered, his voice dropping into a deadly, unyielding register. "The only scenario where you will witness me standing down is if my pulse ceases to exist entirely. If there is a single breath of air remaining within my chest, I will never halt my advance until I have successfully brought Safiyyerh back into my life. I am sorry." With those words, he exited the medical suite. Daddy closed his eyes tightly, tears flowing freely down his hollowed, rapidly aging face. He had lost an immense amount of weight, and his body was actively rejecting sustenance. Ummi turned to him, her voice laced with maternal worry: "You are well aware of Aliyu's unyielding, stubborn temperament; you shouldn't have confronted him with such rigid opposition. It would be far more strategic to have Ummimi speak directly to him and de-escalate his fury." Daddy remained entirely silent, refusing to offer a single response. Suddenly, his mobile phone began to ring persistently. Analyzing the unlisted incoming number, he rapidly answered the call and pressed the receiver tightly against his ear. A cold, distorted voice echoed from the other end: "Greetings, Professor Abdu Marafa. I am well aware that I am speaking directly to you, whether you choose to formally acknowledge it or not. I will initiate this dialogue by offering my mock condolences regarding your failing health, for I know with absolute certainty that your heart is experiencing profound, agonizing torment right now. Let me compound your misery with a critical revelation—I am entirely uncertain if your fragile mind can withstand the raw weight of what I am about to utter. That precious girl whom you love more than life itself? I am the mastermind who explicitly authorized her violent abduction from your household. Safiyyerh, to be precise. I want to watch you forcefully swallow the arrogant declarations you made against us. Professor, I am a high-profile politician, and the strategic calculus of a politician operates on an entirely different evolutionary plane than the simple morality of an Islamic scholar. We do not leave room for loose ends. We are deeply habituated to plunging the masses into absolute ruin. By Allah, you have officially walked into my trap, and from this exact second onward, you can begin counting down the remaining days of your daughter’s life." Moving with rapid speed, Daddy demanded, "Who exactly are you?!" "Surely you recognize the architectural cadence of my voice, Professor," the caller sneered. "You are speaking directly to Engineer Ali Wali, the incoming parliamentary aspirant. You successfully robbed me of my sleep and peace; now, it is officially your turn to experience the raw terror that I felt." "Ali Wali..." Daddy whispered, his voice steadying into an eerie calm. "What exactly are you demanding? What offense has my innocent Safiyyerh committed against your empire? Do not inflict physical harm upon my child, for the sake of the Almighty! Do not touch a single hair on her head!" "Yes, I will ensure she remains entirely untouched—provided you execute my demands to the letter." "State your demands." "You will immediately defect to my political party, align your massive public following with my faction, swallow your pride, and single-handedly repair the catastrophic reputational damage you inflicted upon my campaign. The absolute ruin you caused my brand among the youth and the general populace via your live radio broadcasts must be completely undone. You and that puppet journalist who champions your cause will launch a massive, coordinated media campaign to completely whitewash my image. If you require an astronomical financial inducement to facilitate this, I am entirely prepared to disburse it; after all, such a transaction is standard practice in our world." Daddy let out a sudden, booming laugh that echoed across the hospital room. "Ah, Ali Wali... so you have already grown this desperate, and with such rapid timing? You dare suggest that if I require financial inducement, I should look to you? Do I bear the countenance of a destitute beggar in your eyes? It appears you have completely forgotten the true pedigree of the Professor; you require a severe reminder of who I am. There is still immense time left on the clock, my boy. And as for your threats regarding Safiyyerh... do you genuinely believe that fragile girl represents my absolute vulnerability, my Achilles' heel?" Moving with surprising vitality, Daddy reached down and forcefully ripped the intravenous line out of his own arm, hot blood trickling down his skin. He stepped down from the raised hospital bed, having already gestured firmly for Ummi to exit the room before he had even answered the call. "You have made a monumental, catastrophic error in judgment, Ali Wali," Daddy declared, his voice full of chilling authority. "Safiyyerh represents absolutely nothing to my grand architecture, and she will never become my psychological headache. If it pleases your twisted soul, you may take a knife and slaughter her right this second—it holds absolutely no relevance to me. If you orchestrated this high-profile abduction simply to issue warnings to the Professor, you are tragically late, Ali Wali. The very moment Safiyyerh walked out of the gates of this household, she ceased to occupy a single second of my thoughts. This is high-stakes politics, and you are nothing more than an amateur child. Let us deploy our pieces onto the chessboard and see who survives." On the other end of the line, Engineer Ali Wali let out an equally sinister laugh. "Fascinating, Professor. You truly are a ruthless politician. I swear by Allah, prepare yourself to receive Safiyyerh’s cold corpse by nightfall. Gather her funeral congregation immediately." "If you were truly sired by a man, and if you are not the product of an illicit, bastard union, I dare you to execute her, Ali Wali! By Allah, I beg of you to slaughter Safiyyerh—you would simply be saving me from an immense amount of pending clean-up work..." Daddy countered fiercely, before Ali Wali abruptly slammed the phone down, disconnecting the call. The moment the line went dead, the fierce mask dropped from Daddy's face. He let out a breathless, mocking laugh, a deeply unsettling smile gracing his lips. He rapidly dialed an unlisted number and retreated into the private bathroom, locking the heavy door securely behind him. He remained embedded inside the bathroom for an extended duration before finally emerging to sit heavily on the edge of the bed. Dr. Hash and Yaya J walked into the room. Noting Daddy's conscious, seated state, Dr. Hash stepped forward anxiously, asking, "Daddy, how is your physical condition feeling?" Instantaneously, a wave of profound grief broke through the Professor's armor; heavy tears flooded his eyes, and he wept openly, crying out: "Absolutely nothing will ever go right without my Safiyyerh! My soul is on fire for my innocent Fiyya! Innalillahi wa'inna ilaihirraji'un! I am consumed by absolute terror regarding the psychological breakdown that Ummimi is about to experience!" Beholding the raw, unprecedented sight of their powerful patriarch weeping so helplessly, Junaid found himself entirely incapable of enduring the emotional weight and bolted out of the room. Dr. Hash sat down by Daddy's side, gently comforting him and offering words of reassurance that Safiyyerh would be successfully recovered, Insha Allah. Meanwhile, Captain Aliyu sat quietly in his dark personal quarters. The heavy door swung open, and a figure stepped inside. He raised his cold eyes, analyzing her form, and rapidly rose to his feet. Though his face remained completely stripped of any visible warmth or smile, a heavy, profound sigh of absolute relief escaped his chest. She rolled her eyes dramatically, asking, "Is this the dark corner where you have chosen to hide yourself?" He shook his head slowly in a silent negative. "You must relentlessly advance your tactical investigations to uncover exactly where Safiyyerh is being held, Aliyu," she commanded, her voice firm. "Do not dare listen to the calculated de-escalation of your father, do you hear me?" "Insha Allah, Ummimi," Aliyu replied respectfully. She stared at him intently before turning to exit. Aliyu intervened softly, "Are you departing so soon?" "What exactly do you want me to do for you?" She countered. "Love..." Aliyu murmured, his cold exterior cracking slightly. "I simply desire to gaze upon your countenance." She hardened her expression, mockingly retorting, "In that case, go fetch a traditional baby-carrying cloth so I can strap you onto my back like an infant!" Aliyu’s eyes widened slightly; he stepped forward, wrapping his powerful arms tightly around her frame, pulling her into a fierce, desperate embrace as a heavy sigh escaped his chest. "I love you, Ummimi," he whispered into her hair. "And I love my Safii deeply as well." Gently caressing his head, she whispered softly, "You must ultimately make a definitive choice, Aliyu: choose between myself and her." Aliyu closed his eyes tightly, falling into an absolute, heavy silence. She held him tightly against her chest for a long moment, her mind consumed by a labyrinth of conflicting thoughts, before gently breaking the embrace. "Step outside," she instructed softly. The moment he stepped into the light, Aliyu received an urgent, high-priority military transmission on his secure device. His official deployment records had been updated—his name had been prominently listed among the immediate tactical forces designated for an immediate combat deployment to a volatile frontline zone. Aliyu stared at the digital transmission in absolute disbelief. How on earth had his deployment orders been re-activated so rapidly, especially considering his name was entirely absent from the initial deployment rosters? He walked out of the quarters, intending to report directly to the high command to present his formal emergency deferral, citing the critical security crisis involving his immediate family. However, deep within his military mind, a chilling reality echoed: in the unyielding architecture of military warfare, once your deployment orders are officially stamped, there is absolutely no room for deviation. Deep within her forced confinement, Safiyyerh was gripped by a terrifying, horrific nightmare. She jolted awake in a state of absolute panic, gasping frantically for air as she cried out a singular, mysterious name: "TAHHB!" Suddenly, a bright tactical flashlight was illuminated, its sharp beam cutting through the dark and pinning her in its glare. Moh stood over her, his piercing eyes locking onto her trembling form, his mind deeply baffled by the translucent, ethereal glow her fair skin cast in the dark. A massive, dangerously sharpened traditional machete (Adda) hung tightly in his hand for defensive security. He stepped forward slowly, towering over her terrified form, before kneeling down directly in front of her. Safiyyerh parted her lips to let out a blood-curdling shriek, but Moh rapidly placed his large forefinger against his own lips, issuing a chilling command: "Shhhh." She froze instantly, falling completely mute. With a sudden, terrifying movement, Moh forcefully drove the tip of the machete directly into the wooden floorboards, pinning it structurally right between her extended legs. The steel blade gleamed menacingly in the flashlight beam. "What is the meaning of this?!" She whimpered, trembling. "I swear by Allah, I did not summon you to attack me," she gasped, her eyes darting away from his sharp, hawkish gaze. Moh leaned in closer, his voice low and dangerous: "Whose specific name did you just scream out in your panic?" "Tahhb..." "Does that name belong to you? Or is it one of the hidden names of Abdu Marafa?" She shook her head frantically. "I was trapped in a horrific nightmare! I distinctly heard that name uttered within the dream, but I have absolutely no conscious knowledge of who it belongs to! I have completely forgotten every single detail of the nightmare itself! My head feels like it is exploding; I have a catastrophic headache!" Moh gripped the handle of the embedded machete, tilting the blade slightly until it grazed the fabric over her thigh. "You will explicitly reveal to me exactly who this 'Tahhb' entity is—the person whose name you continuously torment my ears with—or I will drive this steel directly through your thigh right now." "For the love of God, have mercy on me! I swear by the Almighty, I have absolutely no knowledge of who he is!" She wept. "Who exactly are you?!" Moh demanded, his voice cracking with an intense, internal fury. "My name is Safiyyerh!" She shrieked. He bit his lip violently, his eyes watering from an intense, localized migraine racking his brain. "The legal wife of a prominent military soldier, correct?" He growled. She nodded her head frantically in affirmation. Moh leaned in until his breath mingled with hers, his voice dropping into a desperate, agonizing whisper: "In that case... who am I? What exact position do I occupy in your historical life?" "I swear by Allah, I do not know you!" She sobbed, her voice breaking. "You are absolutely no one to me!" His eyes filled with literal tears of deep, psychological frustration. He unleashed a thunderous, manic roar that shook the very foundation of the room, screaming frantically into her face: "WHO AM I?! WHO AM I?! WHO AM I?! TELL ME!"
Page 15: The Final Chronicle
What if I tell you, I love you? "Do not dare utter the lie that you have absolutely no knowledge of my existence! Do not dare say that to me!" Moh roared, his chest heaving violently as his breath hitched in his throat. "The historical tapestry of your life can absolutely never be complete without the inclusion of my name! My existence must legally and structurally anchor your life, unless you intend to completely excise a vital, living organ from your history!" Safiyyerh sat entirely frozen, shocked and completely speechless. She was utterly incapable of looking away from his manic form; a massive, unprecedented wave of sheer psychological terror rippled through her soul, paralyzing her thoughts. Slowly and carefully, she raised her tear-filled eyes to meet his furious gaze, the heavy drops cascading freely down her crimson cheeks. She stared deeply into his eyes, before frantically shaking her head and whispering: "I swear by the Almighty, I am telling you the absolute truth—I do not know you! I have never once laid eyes upon your countenance until these past few days of horror! I don't even possess knowledge of your legal name, let alone your identity! Why on earth would I know you?!" As she prepared to break into a frantic fit of hysterical weeping, Moh instantly placed his finger back over his lips, growling, "Shhhh." Caught in his grip, she fell silent instantly, her chest heaving as she let out shallow, trembling gasps. Moh maintained his position, his eyes locked onto her face while his fingers absentmindedly traced the dangerously sharp tip of the machete driven into the floor. "From this exact second onward, you will cease to address me by that name," he commanded coldly. "In that case, what exact name do you want me to call you?" She whispered, her head tilting weakly to the side. "Tell me, because I don't even know your true name to begin with." Moh attempted to process her words, trying to grasp the vital answers he desperately needed from her mind. But with every single syllable he attempted to utter, a massive, violent storm of psychological static and physical pain would wreck his skull, scattering his memories before he could verbalize them. Defeated, he ripped the machete from the floorboards and tossed it carelessly into the corner of the room. He turned his head, casting a cold eye over the unconscious, mangled forms of Goje and Mangal lying nearby in pools of their own blood. He stood there silently, waiting for the first light of dawn to break, his mind racing to calculate how he could safely secure a rogue medical doctor to treat his crew. Safiyyerh watched him, her voice dropping into a stern, disapproving tone: "You are the one who brutally sliced them open during that gang war, correct? What you have done is an absolute abomination before God! If you perish in this current spiritual state of delinquency, you will instantly plunge into the eternal fires of Hell without any hope of reprieve! You will lie there watching as the righteous elegantly enter Paradise, while you scream in absolute agony within the depths of Lazza and Saqar! You have absolutely no honorable purpose in this life beyond street thuggery, violent gang wars, and substance abuse! Your internal organs are filled with nothing but illicit narcotics and chemical smoke! Why on earth did you choose to entirely waste your existence in this absolute filth, stranger? Beyond this temporary life lies the reality of absolute death! Do not allow yourself to meet your demise in this state, for the Angels of Punishment will show absolutely no mercy to your soul!" "Tell me... do you happen to have a biological brother operating as an Angel of Punishment?" Moh countered mockingly. "Subhanallah! You possess an absolute disdain for moral counseling—your heart is as hardened as the literal bloodline of Pharaoh! I speak to you purely out of a profound sense of human pity for your wasted life, but since you are entirely blind to the truth, so be it!" She snapped, her face tightening into a grimace of absolute disgust. Deep within her soul, she loathed his very existence; she found his lifestyle entirely degenerate, stripped of any redeeming qualities or honor. Yet, paradoxically, deep within the hidden recesses of her heart, a profound, agonizing pity for their broken lives consumed her. She felt that if she possessed absolute executive power, she would never fail to rescue them from this criminal underworld. Moh closed his eyes tightly, remaining completely motionless as he sat perched on the wooden chair. He hoisted one leg over the other, executing a low, steady, whistling tune that echoed eerily through the quiet room. Slowly and deliberately, he pulled a cigarette from his pocket, preparing to ignite it. Safiyyerh immediately intervened, her voice sharp with corporate disdain: "This is the perfect emblem of an absolute imbecile’s choices in life! Even the Western creators of this chemical explicitly stated on the packaging that it systematically destroys human health! But of course, since you possess absolutely no Islamic education and zero Western literacy, you are entirely incapable of comprehending basic facts! Goodness, Safiyyerh, what exactly is wrong with you? This is absolutely none of your business!" She muttered to herself, abruptly rising to her feet to walk away. But before she could even take a step, his towering frame materialized directly in front of her. He held the ignited cigarette between his fingers, deeply inhaling the toxic vapors and exhaling a thick cloud of smoke. Safiyyerh reached up to forcefully seal her nose and mouth, but Moh aggressively slammed his powerful hand against the structural wall behind her, pinning her completely in the center of his frame. The cigarette remained clenched between his lips as he bore down on her with his bloodshot, menacing eyes. Her lips trembled violently as she shook her head, gasping, "What is the meaning of this absolute violation?!" Moh remained completely silent, lowering his face until it hovered mere millimeters away from hers, his intense gaze locking onto her trembling lips. "This is an absolute display of unhinged, criminal harassment!" She shrieked, forcing courage into her voice. "I am a legally wedded, respectable married woman, damn you! Has your fractured brain completely failed to register basic reality?! If your syndicate successfully abducted me from my husband's estate, does that magically imply I will simply allow you to abuse me?! If your filthy, degenerate hands dare to touch a single millimeter of Safiyyerh’s skin, I swear by the Almighty I will never forgive myself! I am telling you with a thunderous voice: I am a married woman, do you hear me?! Do you even comprehend the Hausa language?!" In response, Moh slowly removed the cigarette from his lips. Taking the massive cloud of toxic smoke he had just held within his lungs, he forcefully and directly exhaled it straight into her face. Safiyyerh instantly exploded into a violent fit of coughing, frantically turning her head away to seek clean air. Moh swiftly inhaled another massive drag from the cigarette, pressed his face closer to her neck, and forcefully exhaled the heavy smoke directly into her mouth just as she opened it to scream. She swallowed the toxic fumes entirely. A violent, suffocating spasm racked her chest, and she began to violently gasp and retch, her body convulsing with an immediate urge to vomit. Seeing that she was on the absolute verge of physical collapse, Moh abruptly broke the contact, stepped back, and marched out of the room, slamming the door to hide himself in the adjacent chamber. Safiyyerh collapsed onto her knees on the hard floor, clutching her lower abdomen as a searing, agonizing pain ripped through her surgical wound, her body retching violently as she wept bitterly in the dark. Throughout the entire horrific exchange, Goje lay drifting in and out of consciousness nearby, silently witnessing the absolute madness unfolding between them.
Part 2: Structural & Conflict Analysis
This explosive transition acts as the definitive turning point for Book 1, blowing the narrative wide open by establishing deep psychological ties, high-level political stakes, and severe identity crises.
The Political Violation Contract: Engineer Ali Wali shifts from an amateur political rival to a calculated villain. He orders Moh to explicitly violate and impregnate Safiyyerh while she is legally married to Captain Aliyu, specifically to construct an "illegitimate bastard child" that will forever destroy Professor Abdu Marafa's historic moral legacy among the voters.
The Psychological Static & Amnesia: Moh’s severe localized migraines and psychological fracturing are triggered whenever Safiyyerh speaks. He experiences heavy cognitive dissonance, displaying a subconscious protective urge toward her that directly violates Ali Wali's orders. His desperate screams of "Who am I?!" indicate his identity is tied to her hidden past.
The "TAHHB" Cryptogram: Safiyyerh’s sudden subconscious nightmare brings forth the name Tahhb. This word throws Moh into a manic frenzy, suggesting that "Tahhb" might be an acronym, a localized code name, or his true birth identity before he descended into the criminal underworld as Mutallab.
Professor Marafa’s Ruthless Gambit: During the high-stakes phone call with Ali Wali, the Professor plays a brilliant, cold political gambit. By claiming Safiyyerh is "nothing to him" and telling Ali Wali to "slaughter her," he successfully breaks Ali Wali's psychological leverage. However, the moment the call ends, his paternal armor shatters, revealing his profound terror over his daughter's fate.
The Frontline Military Elimination: Captain Aliyu's sudden, suspicious frontline combat deployment indicates that the corrupt network of Hon. Maɗatai and SP Ghali is weaponizing state infrastructure to forcefully remove Aliyu from the city, leaving Safiyyerh completely unprotected.
JARABABBEN NAMIJI DESCRIPTION
"Ali Wali, either address me explicitly as a street thug or a ruthless terrorist, and then we can talk," Moh growled, his face instantly hardening into a dark, menacing scowl. Engineer Ali Wali offered a cold, calculated smile and replied, "With immense gratitude."
"Professor Abdu Marafa has inflicted a deep, permanent scar upon the hearts of the youth in this state," Ali Wali continued, his voice dropping into a dangerous register. "He has utterly decimated my reputation, and I feel a burning desire to make him taste the precise equivalent of what he did to me. I want a brutal, unyielding retaliation—the kind of vengeance that tastes sweeter than the original offense. Just as he dragged my name through the mud, I want the historical legacy of his household's moral uprightness and the prestigious name he brags about to be entirely systematically ruined. I want the public to permanently look down upon him as an absolute failure." He fell into an abrupt silence, checking his mobile phone. Seeing that the party chairman was persistently calling him, he rose to his full height.
"Beyond the strategic abduction of his precious daughter right from his compound, which you have already executed, I have a deeper mandate for you," Ali Wali sneered, leaning in close. "I want you to forcefully violate Safiyyerh Abdu Marafa. I want you to plant a pregnancy inside Safiyyerh Abdu Marafa's womb. Just imagine the absolute poetry of it: she is legally wedded to another prominent man, yet a completely different man gets her pregnant—and not just any man, but a common street thug. A nameless, faceless criminal entity. Think of it, Mutallab: Safiyyerh will be forced to give birth to a child of absolute illegitimacy, an absolute bastard."
"An illegitimate child?"
Moh repeated the words aloud, his voice flat, testing the weight of the phrase. Ali Wali scoffed, "What else would you call it? When a man who is legally unrelated to a girl isolates her until she conceives, what name does that pregnancy bear? It is a bastard child; that is exactly how the mathematical equation works. If I were to contract this specific task out to any other operative, Engineer Ali Wali's grand calculations wouldn't be executed to a flawless one hundred percent perfection. This act must be perpetrated by your hands, Mutallab. You must personally impregnate Safiyyerh, because absolute pollution must find its way into the clean vessel of that household."
"What specific sin has the girl herself committed to deserve such a fate?" Moh demanded, his brow furrowing. "And besides, regarding this issue of conceiving a child... isn't a pregnancy something that simply happens? Doesn't it just grow naturally on its own without such malicious planning?"
"Oh? So you're claiming you don't even understand the mechanics of how a pregnancy is intentionally orchestrated? How old are you exactly?" Ali Wali mocked.
"Irrespective of your grand calculations, it will absolutely not happen," Moh stated with rigid finality. Ali Wali simply smiled, unfazed by the resistance. "You will do it, because you have no choice. Write my words down and lock them away securely; when the precise moment comes for you to execute it, you won't even realize what hit you. Now vanish from my sight." Moh didn't give Engineer Ali Wali's psychological threats any serious weight; he turned on his heel and exited the mansion.
Deep within the secluded perimeter of the criminal hideout, Safiyyerh firmly secured the heavy structural door from the inside. Turning around, she locked eyes with Goje and requested, "Just secure the raw food provisions for me from the market. I will personally take charge of the daily cooking, and then I can serve the meals directly to you all. Is that an acceptable arrangement?"
"Are you claiming you actually possess culinary skills?" Goje asked, skeptical.
"What do you mean by culinary skills?" She countered. He clarified, "I am talking about the actual art of cooking." She nodded her head with absolute confidence. Goje rose to his feet, muttering, "If you play your cards right and keep us fed, it will prove you're not completely useless around here." Safiyyerh scanned the compact kitchen space, her eyes widening in mild surprise as she noted the presence of cooking pots, ceramic plates, spoons, a kerosene stove, and various other essential household utensils. Within a remarkably short time, Goje returned from the market, his hands laden with five packs of instant noodles, ten fresh eggs, a variety of blended pepper mix, and seasoning cubes. Handing them over to her, he offered a rare grin: "Make it taste exceptionally good, Manager."
Safiyyerh found herself letting out a subtle smile, though deep within her brilliant mind, she was actively formulating a complex strategy to secure an escape route. As they stood there in the communal space, Moh suddenly barged into the safehouse. He froze instantly, his cold eyes locking onto Goje while deliberately refusing to glance in her direction. Safiyyerh watched him intently through lowered eyelashes, observing his powerful, hyper-muscular physique. A profound wave of raw apprehension rippled through her soul; she found herself deeply fearing his erratic presence. "Welcome back, King of the Wilderness," Goje greeted warmly. "May Allah grant you continuous fortitude over your recent loss." Moh completely ignored the greeting, walking past them into the inner chambers. Safiyyerh turned to Goje, her voice laced with sudden curiosity:
"Oh? Did he suffer a personal tragedy recently?"
"His biological elder sister was brutally abducted," Goje whispered, his voice dark. "It was only yesterday that her body was dumped and recovered; the perpetrators had completely gouged her eyes out." Safiyyerh’s eyes flew wide open in absolute horror, her hand flying to her chest as a profound wave of maternal empathy washed over her. "And despite such a catastrophic loss, he hasn't returned home to be with his grieving family?" She whispered, shaken. "Does he hold no genuine love for his sister, or are you all simply harboring a complete madman in this safehouse?" Goje offered no answer, quickly slipping away from the space to avoid further interrogation.
Safiyyerh turned her attention to preparing the instant noodles, intentionally loading the dish with a lethal amount of hot habanero scotch bonnet peppers. It had been an eternity since she had last stepped into a kitchen, and the intense heat from the open flame made her fair complexion turn a vivid, blotchy crimson. Her eyes watered and burned severely from the rising pepper fumes. Forcing herself through the physical discomfort, she portioned out a small, steaming serving onto a ceramic plate for them.
Moh emerged and stood silently, watching Goje and Mangal tear into the food like starved, ravenous predators, continuously panting from the intense heat of the spices. He stared at the remaining portion of noodles, then shifted his gaze back to the men. He made a move to exit, but Safiyyerh blocked his path, demanding, "Are you not going to partake in the meal? Furthermore, I require a quiet, clean space to perform my sacred prayers." Both men completely tuned her out. The moment they finalized their meal, they marched out of the compound, firmly slamming and locking the external door behind them. Left entirely isolated in the terrifying quiet, Safiyyerh collapsed onto her knees, drawing her legs tightly against her chest, and began to weep as if her very soul were being torn apart until physical exhaustion pulled her into a deep sleep.
Deep within her troubled slumber, she felt a heavy object forcefully tossed onto her form. She snapped her eyes open, jolting awake, and instantly beheld his towering figure standing over her, his back turned to her. A plastic shopping bag lay by her side. She quickly unfastened the bag and discovered two high-quality long flowing dresses, a proper matching hijab, and a pair of fitted shoes. A wave of absolute bewilderment washed over her—how on earth did this dangerous criminal entity possess precise knowledge of her clothing and shoe sizes? She scrambled to her feet. Sensing her approaching figure, Moh immediately marched toward the exit, but Safiyyerh moved with blinding corporate agility, completely cutting him off and blocking the door. He froze in his tracks. She stared directly into his intense eyes, demanding answers:
"Are you completely incapable of human speech? Can you not manage even a single, subtle smile? Before I eventually secure my freedom from this place, why don't we establish a mutual truce and become allies?" She confidently extended her hand toward him. Moh lowered his gaze, staring intently at her delicate, pristine hand, noting the elegant slim ring gracing her slender, perfectly manicured fingers. "I am Safiyyerh Abdu Marafa," she declared, her voice firm. "And who exactly are you?"
Moh maintained an absolute, unyielding silence. Safiyyerh tilted her head gracefully to the side, her tone shifting into a persuasive, disarming register: "I genuinely desire to become your confidante. I will share fascinating stories about my father and the profound, limitless love he harbors for me. I will detail the inner workings of the multinational investment corporation I manage, and I will even reveal the tragic history of Ashraf—the man I was fated to marry before death claimed him, leading to my arranged union with the Captain. I will detail the histories of Ummi and my closest companion, Kinal. I am willing to reveal absolutely everything to you. Can we establish an alliance first?" For the third consecutive time, she extended her hand toward him.
Deliberately bypassing her outstretched hand, Moh brushed past her frame, unlocked the door, and exited the compound, firmly locking her inside once more. Safiyyerh stood entirely frozen, her extended hand dropping to her side as a wave of intense frustration and bitterness washed over her. This absolute thug behaves with the unyielding arrogance of a billionaire prince, she thought bitterly, his mind consumed by a cold, impenetrable aloofness. She, the elite Corporate Manager, had humbled herself to initiate dialogue, only to be completely disregarded. Did he honestly believe she was speaking to him out of genuine affection, rather than sheer survival instinct? She squeezed her eyes shut as tears flooded her vision. Forcing herself to regain composure, she performed her ablutions and began to perform her back-to-back missed prayers.
Suddenly, Goje burst into the safehouse, his face twisted in absolute panic. "Where are you?! Step outside immediately, move!" He barked. Safiyyerh rose, opening her mouth to fiercely argue against his hostile tone, but Moh barged in right behind him. Moving with terrifying authority, Moh reached down and violently clamped his powerful hand around her wrist. Safiyyerh stared down in sheer shock at the stark contrast between his large, dark, battle-scarred hand and her fragile, pristine white wrist. He forcefully dragged her out of the compound and toward a waiting vehicle. Without wasting a single second, he forcefully shoved her into the front passenger seat while Goje scrambled into the back. Mangal stood by the driver's side, completely disoriented, and asked:
"Who exactly is going to pilot this vehicle right now? I possess absolutely no driving skills, and neither do you in this physical state!"
Moh, who was preparing to slide into the driver's seat, suddenly froze as a calculated realization hit his mind. For the first time since her abduction, he turned his head and locked his gaze directly onto Safiyyerh. When he spoke, she heard his true voice clearly—deep, resonant, and entirely stripped of its usual manic edge: "Relocate over here."
A wave of intense dread washed over her. She cautiously stepped out of the passenger side and slid into the driver's seat as he moved over to the passenger side. He forcefully tossed the vehicle keys onto her lap and commanded, "Drive." Whispering the sacred name of Allah, Safiyyerh ignited the engine and put the vehicle in gear. She turned her head slightly, asking, "Where to?" He handed her his personal mobile phone, which he had just brought online. She rapidly analyzed the digital GPS coordinates displayed on the screen and slammed her foot on the accelerator, tearing away from the safehouse perimeter at high speed.
Barely a few minutes after their frantic departure, a convoy of heavily armed military vehicles roared to a halt directly outside the abandoned safehouse. Captain Aliyu stepped out of the lead vehicle, his imposing frame clad in a immaculate, crisp military combat uniform that perfectly accentuated his lethal authority. A massive, high-caliber assault rifle hung across his chest. His specialized tactical operators deployed rapidly, their weapons drawn as they systematically swept the external perimeter. Aliyu marched directly into the structure. The moment he crossed the threshold, his heart hammered violently against his ribs at the sight before him: Fiyya’s delicate nightgown lay violently shredded and abandoned on the dirty floor. He knelt down, lifting the fabric, his eyes locking onto a dark, dried patch of fresh blood. Scanning the room, his eyes took in an array of illicit narcotics, crude knives, and iron rods. He squeezed his eyes shut, his voice trembling with a mixture of raw fury and desperation: "Where are you, my wife? Where on earth have they taken my woman?"
"Captain, are you absolutely certain the digital tracking array pinpointed this exact location?" His tactical commander asked. Aliyu simply nodded his head, entirely incapable of verbalizing the intense torment consuming his soul. "They managed to execute an emergency extraction," the commander muttered, analyzing the space. "But how on earth did these low-life thugs realize we had compromised their digital location array, allowing them to evacuate the perimeter with such precise, rapid timing?"
Aliyu shook his head, signaling his absolute lack of answers. "Maintain your tactical composure, Captain. Your wife will be successfully extracted. Do you genuinely believe they have subject her to further physical trauma?" The commander looked at him grimly. Aliyu silently held up Safiyyerh’s torn nightgown, pointing directly to the fresh bloodstains anchoring the fabric. The commander defaced his face with his hands, uttering fervently, "Innalillahi wa'inna ilaihirraji'un (To Allah we belong, and to Him we shall return). By the grace of the Almighty, it will not be the catastrophic outcome we dread. Let us move out!" They exited the structure, Captain Aliyu resolving deep within his soul that he would unleash absolute military hell to recover his wife.
Mutallab navigated their escape toward a completely different, moderately sized residential property that boasted an elegant design, hidden deep within the furthest outskirts of the metropolitan border. They sat in the secure living room, Safiyyerh keeping her gaze cast firmly downward, her mind completely baffled by the deep, unyielding silences that defined this mysterious man. Whenever he sat isolated in his thoughts, he would periodically let out a heavy, agonizing sigh, or lock his piercing eyes onto a singular spot on the wall for hours on end.
A full week elapsed with absolutely no breakthrough regarding Safiyyerh's high-profile abduction. No ransom calls were received, and no communication demands were made. Professor Abdu Marafa explicitly enacted a total media blackout, strictly barring the family or authorities from leaking the case to social media platforms or radio stations, insisting that the crisis be managed entirely in the shadows.
Back at the elite medical wing, Daddy lay weakly on his hospital bed, an intravenous line continuously delivering fluids into his arm. Turning his frail head toward Aliyu, his voice dropped into a raspy, emotionally exhausted whisper: "Aliyu... who authorized your intervention?"
"She is my legal wife, Daddy," Aliyu countered flatly.
"And? Does that fact magically grant you immunity from operational protocol? Are you operating as a rogue police investigator or a professional military soldier?"
"I am entirely prepared to weaponize my military uniform, or operate completely outside the confines of the law if necessary," Aliyu snapped, his eyes flashing with a dangerous intensity. "She represents my absolute responsibility now, and I am legally and morally bound to defend my sacred trust. I would consider myself an absolute coward, a useless failure of a man, if I failed to personally hunt down and recover my Safii. Do not attempt to de-escalate my operational drive, Daddy. Let the civilian police forces execute their slow bureaucratic investigations—I will execute mine."
"Extract your hands from this toxic quagmire entirely, Aliyu," Daddy commanded, his voice shaking.
"Understood. I will stand down—but give me one logical, irrefutable justification as to why I should."
"Aliyu, have you completely failed to comprehend that if you push these monsters into a corner, they will instantly execute her?" Daddy pleaded, tears of desperation forming in his eyes. "You have absolutely no conception of the sheer depravity of the syndicates we are dealing with! Every single thread of information you are gathering in the shadows belongs entirely to a larger chess game between myself and Zahiyerh! Do not make a catastrophic blunder that will result in the immediate liquidation of Maama’s life, I beg of you! These individuals possess absolutely no moral code or human decency—and furthermore, it appears that Superintendent Ghali is deeply embedded within their entire network." Aliyu abruptly rose to his feet, marching directly toward the exit door. "I am profoundly sorry, Daddy," he uttered, his voice dropping into a deadly, unyielding register. "The only scenario where you will witness me standing down is if my pulse ceases to exist entirely. If there is a single breath of air remaining within my chest, I will never halt my advance until I have successfully brought Safiyyerh back into my life. I am sorry." With those words, he exited the medical suite.
Daddy closed his eyes tightly, tears flowing freely down his hollowed, rapidly aging face. He had lost an immense amount of weight, and his body was actively rejecting sustenance. Ummi turned to him, her voice laced with maternal worry: "You are well aware of Aliyu's unyielding, stubborn temperament; you shouldn't have confronted him with such rigid opposition. It would be far more strategic to have Ummimi speak directly to him and de-escalate his fury." Daddy remained entirely silent, refusing to offer a single response.
Suddenly, his mobile phone began to ring persistently. Analyzing the unlisted incoming number, he rapidly answered the call and pressed the receiver tightly against his ear. A cold, distorted voice echoed from the other end:
"Greetings, Professor Abdu Marafa. I am well aware that I am speaking directly to you, whether you choose to formally acknowledge it or not. I will initiate this dialogue by offering my mock condolences regarding your failing health, for I know with absolute certainty that your heart is experiencing profound, agonizing torment right now. Let me compound your misery with a critical revelation—I am entirely uncertain if your fragile mind can withstand the raw weight of what I am about to utter. That precious girl whom you love more than life itself? I am the mastermind who explicitly authorized her violent abduction from your household. Safiyyerh, to be precise. I want to watch you forcefully swallow the arrogant declarations you made against us. Professor, I am a high-profile politician, and the strategic calculus of a politician operates on an entirely different evolutionary plane than the simple morality of an Islamic scholar. We do not leave room for loose ends. We are deeply habituated to plunging the masses into absolute ruin. By Allah, you have officially walked into my trap, and from this exact second onward, you can begin counting down the remaining days of your daughter’s life."
Moving with rapid speed, Daddy demanded, "Who exactly are you?!"
"Surely you recognize the architectural cadence of my voice, Professor," the caller sneered. "You are speaking directly to Engineer Ali Wali, the incoming parliamentary aspirant. You successfully robbed me of my sleep and peace; now, it is officially your turn to experience the raw terror that I felt."
"Ali Wali..." Daddy whispered, his voice steadying into an eerie calm. "What exactly are you demanding? What offense has my innocent Safiyyerh committed against your empire? Do not inflict physical harm upon my child, for the sake of the Almighty! Do not touch a single hair on her head!"
"Yes, I will ensure she remains entirely untouched—provided you execute my demands to the letter."
"State your demands."
"You will immediately defect to my political party, align your massive public following with my faction, swallow your pride, and single-handedly repair the catastrophic reputational damage you inflicted upon my campaign. The absolute ruin you caused my brand among the youth and the general populace via your live radio broadcasts must be completely undone. You and that puppet journalist who champions your cause will launch a massive, coordinated media campaign to completely whitewash my image. If you require an astronomical financial inducement to facilitate this, I am entirely prepared to disburse it; after all, such a transaction is standard practice in our world."
Daddy let out a sudden, booming laugh that echoed across the hospital room. "Ah, Ali Wali... so you have already grown this desperate, and with such rapid timing? You dare suggest that if I require financial inducement, I should look to you? Do I bear the countenance of a destitute beggar in your eyes? It appears you have completely forgotten the true pedigree of the Professor; you require a severe reminder of who I am. There is still immense time left on the clock, my boy. And as for your threats regarding Safiyyerh... do you genuinely believe that fragile girl represents my absolute vulnerability, my Achilles' heel?"
Moving with surprising vitality, Daddy reached down and forcefully ripped the intravenous line out of his own arm, hot blood trickling down his skin. He stepped down from the raised hospital bed, having already gestured firmly for Ummi to exit the room before he had even answered the call.
"You have made a monumental, catastrophic error in judgment, Ali Wali," Daddy declared, his voice full of chilling authority. "Safiyyerh represents absolutely nothing to my grand architecture, and she will never become my psychological headache. If it pleases your twisted soul, you may take a knife and slaughter her right this second—it holds absolutely no relevance to me. If you orchestrated this high-profile abduction simply to issue warnings to the Professor, you are tragically late, Ali Wali. The very moment Safiyyerh walked out of the gates of this household, she ceased to occupy a single second of my thoughts. This is high-stakes politics, and you are nothing more than an amateur child. Let us deploy our pieces onto the chessboard and see who survives."
On the other end of the line, Engineer Ali Wali let out an equally sinister laugh. "Fascinating, Professor. You truly are a ruthless politician. I swear by Allah, prepare yourself to receive Safiyyerh’s cold corpse by nightfall. Gather her funeral congregation immediately."
"If you were truly sired by a man, and if you are not the product of an illicit, bastard union, I dare you to execute her, Ali Wali! By Allah, I beg of you to slaughter Safiyyerh—you would simply be saving me from an immense amount of pending clean-up work..." Daddy countered fiercely, before Ali Wali abruptly slammed the phone down, disconnecting the call.
The moment the line went dead, the fierce mask dropped from Daddy's face. He let out a breathless, mocking laugh, a deeply unsettling smile gracing his lips. He rapidly dialed an unlisted number and retreated into the private bathroom, locking the heavy door securely behind him. He remained embedded inside the bathroom for an extended duration before finally emerging to sit heavily on the edge of the bed.
Dr. Hash and Yaya J walked into the room. Noting Daddy's conscious, seated state, Dr. Hash stepped forward anxiously, asking, "Daddy, how is your physical condition feeling?" Instantaneously, a wave of profound grief broke through the Professor's armor; heavy tears flooded his eyes, and he wept openly, crying out: "Absolutely nothing will ever go right without my Safiyyerh! My soul is on fire for my innocent Fiyya! Innalillahi wa'inna ilaihirraji'un! I am consumed by absolute terror regarding the psychological breakdown that Ummimi is about to experience!" Beholding the raw, unprecedented sight of their powerful patriarch weeping so helplessly, Junaid found himself entirely incapable of enduring the emotional weight and bolted out of the room. Dr. Hash sat down by Daddy's side, gently comforting him and offering words of reassurance that Safiyyerh would be successfully recovered, Insha Allah.
Meanwhile, Captain Aliyu sat quietly in his dark personal quarters. The heavy door swung open, and a figure stepped inside. He raised his cold eyes, analyzing her form, and rapidly rose to his feet. Though his face remained completely stripped of any visible warmth or smile, a heavy, profound sigh of absolute relief escaped his chest. She rolled her eyes dramatically, asking, "Is this the dark corner where you have chosen to hide yourself?" He shook his head slowly in a silent negative.
"You must relentlessly advance your tactical investigations to uncover exactly where Safiyyerh is being held, Aliyu," she commanded, her voice firm. "Do not dare listen to the calculated de-escalation of your father, do you hear me?"
"Insha Allah, Ummimi," Aliyu replied respectfully. She stared at him intently before turning to exit. Aliyu intervened softly, "Are you departing so soon?"
"What exactly do you want me to do for you?" She countered.
"Love..." Aliyu murmured, his cold exterior cracking slightly. "I simply desire to gaze upon your countenance." She hardened her expression, mockingly retorting, "In that case, go fetch a traditional baby-carrying cloth so I can strap you onto my back like an infant!" Aliyu’s eyes widened slightly; he stepped forward, wrapping his powerful arms tightly around her frame, pulling her into a fierce, desperate embrace as a heavy sigh escaped his chest. "I love you, Ummimi," he whispered into her hair. "And I love my Safii deeply as well."
Gently caressing his head, she whispered softly, "You must ultimately make a definitive choice, Aliyu: choose between myself and her." Aliyu closed his eyes tightly, falling into an absolute, heavy silence. She held him tightly against her chest for a long moment, her mind consumed by a labyrinth of conflicting thoughts, before gently breaking the embrace. "Step outside," she instructed softly.
The moment he stepped into the light, Aliyu received an urgent, high-priority military transmission on his secure device. His official deployment records had been updated—his name had been prominently listed among the immediate tactical forces designated for an immediate combat deployment to a volatile frontline zone. Aliyu stared at the digital transmission in absolute disbelief. How on earth had his deployment orders been re-activated so rapidly, especially considering his name was entirely absent from the initial deployment rosters? He walked out of the quarters, intending to report directly to the high command to present his formal emergency deferral, citing the critical security crisis involving his immediate family. However, deep within his military mind, a chilling reality echoed: in the unyielding architecture of military warfare, once your deployment orders are officially stamped, there is absolutely no room for deviation.
Deep within her forced confinement, Safiyyerh was gripped by a terrifying, horrific nightmare. She jolted awake in a state of absolute panic, gasping frantically for air as she cried out a singular, mysterious name: "TAHHB!" Suddenly, a bright tactical flashlight was illuminated, its sharp beam cutting through the dark and pinning her in its glare. Moh stood over her, his piercing eyes locking onto her trembling form, his mind deeply baffled by the translucent, ethereal glow her fair skin cast in the dark. A massive, dangerously sharpened traditional machete (Adda) hung tightly in his hand for defensive security. He stepped forward slowly, towering over her terrified form, before kneeling down directly in front of her. Safiyyerh parted her lips to let out a blood-curdling shriek, but Moh rapidly placed his large forefinger against his own lips, issuing a chilling command: "Shhhh."
She froze instantly, falling completely mute. With a sudden, terrifying movement, Moh forcefully drove the tip of the machete directly into the wooden floorboards, pinning it structurally right between her extended legs. The steel blade gleamed menacingly in the flashlight beam. "What is the meaning of this?!" She whimpered, trembling.
"I swear by Allah, I did not summon you to attack me," she gasped, her eyes darting away from his sharp, hawkish gaze. Moh leaned in closer, his voice low and dangerous: "Whose specific name did you just scream out in your panic?"
"Tahhb..."
"Does that name belong to you? Or is it one of the hidden names of Abdu Marafa?" She shook her head frantically. "I was trapped in a horrific nightmare! I distinctly heard that name uttered within the dream, but I have absolutely no conscious knowledge of who it belongs to! I have completely forgotten every single detail of the nightmare itself! My head feels like it is exploding; I have a catastrophic headache!"
Moh gripped the handle of the embedded machete, tilting the blade slightly until it grazed the fabric over her thigh. "You will explicitly reveal to me exactly who this 'Tahhb' entity is—the person whose name you continuously torment my ears with—or I will drive this steel directly through your thigh right now."
"For the love of God, have mercy on me! I swear by the Almighty, I have absolutely no knowledge of who he is!" She wept.
"Who exactly are you?!" Moh demanded, his voice cracking with an intense, internal fury.
"My name is Safiyyerh!" She shrieked. He bit his lip violently, his eyes watering from an intense, localized migraine racking his brain. "The legal wife of a prominent military soldier, correct?" He growled. She nodded her head frantically in affirmation.
Moh leaned in until his breath mingled with hers, his voice dropping into a desperate, agonizing whisper: "In that case... who am I? What exact position do I occupy in your historical life?"
"I swear by Allah, I do not know you!" She sobbed, her voice breaking. "You are absolutely no one to me!"
His eyes filled with literal tears of deep, psychological frustration. He unleashed a thunderous, manic roar that shook the very foundation of the room, screaming frantically into her face: "WHO AM I?! WHO AM I?! WHO AM I?! TELL ME!"
Page 15: The Final Chronicle
What if I tell you, I love you?
"Do not dare utter the lie that you have absolutely no knowledge of my existence! Do not dare say that to me!" Moh roared, his chest heaving violently as his breath hitched in his throat. "The historical tapestry of your life can absolutely never be complete without the inclusion of my name! My existence must legally and structurally anchor your life, unless you intend to completely excise a vital, living organ from your history!"
Safiyyerh sat entirely frozen, shocked and completely speechless. She was utterly incapable of looking away from his manic form; a massive, unprecedented wave of sheer psychological terror rippled through her soul, paralyzing her thoughts. Slowly and carefully, she raised her tear-filled eyes to meet his furious gaze, the heavy drops cascading freely down her crimson cheeks. She stared deeply into his eyes, before frantically shaking her head and whispering:
"I swear by the Almighty, I am telling you the absolute truth—I do not know you! I have never once laid eyes upon your countenance until these past few days of horror! I don't even possess knowledge of your legal name, let alone your identity! Why on earth would I know you?!"
As she prepared to break into a frantic fit of hysterical weeping, Moh instantly placed his finger back over his lips, growling, "Shhhh." Caught in his grip, she fell silent instantly, her chest heaving as she let out shallow, trembling gasps. Moh maintained his position, his eyes locked onto her face while his fingers absentmindedly traced the dangerously sharp tip of the machete driven into the floor.
"From this exact second onward, you will cease to address me by that name," he commanded coldly.
"In that case, what exact name do you want me to call you?" She whispered, her head tilting weakly to the side. "Tell me, because I don't even know your true name to begin with."
Moh attempted to process her words, trying to grasp the vital answers he desperately needed from her mind. But with every single syllable he attempted to utter, a massive, violent storm of psychological static and physical pain would wreck his skull, scattering his memories before he could verbalize them. Defeated, he ripped the machete from the floorboards and tossed it carelessly into the corner of the room. He turned his head, casting a cold eye over the unconscious, mangled forms of Goje and Mangal lying nearby in pools of their own blood. He stood there silently, waiting for the first light of dawn to break, his mind racing to calculate how he could safely secure a rogue medical doctor to treat his crew.
Safiyyerh watched him, her voice dropping into a stern, disapproving tone: "You are the one who brutally sliced them open during that gang war, correct? What you have done is an absolute abomination before God! If you perish in this current spiritual state of delinquency, you will instantly plunge into the eternal fires of Hell without any hope of reprieve! You will lie there watching as the righteous elegantly enter Paradise, while you scream in absolute agony within the depths of Lazza and Saqar! You have absolutely no honorable purpose in this life beyond street thuggery, violent gang wars, and substance abuse! Your internal organs are filled with nothing but illicit narcotics and chemical smoke! Why on earth did you choose to entirely waste your existence in this absolute filth, stranger? Beyond this temporary life lies the reality of absolute death! Do not allow yourself to meet your demise in this state, for the Angels of Punishment will show absolutely no mercy to your soul!"
"Tell me... do you happen to have a biological brother operating as an Angel of Punishment?" Moh countered mockingly.
"Subhanallah! You possess an absolute disdain for moral counseling—your heart is as hardened as the literal bloodline of Pharaoh! I speak to you purely out of a profound sense of human pity for your wasted life, but since you are entirely blind to the truth, so be it!" She snapped, her face tightening into a grimace of absolute disgust. Deep within her soul, she loathed his very existence; she found his lifestyle entirely degenerate, stripped of any redeeming qualities or honor. Yet, paradoxically, deep within the hidden recesses of her heart, a profound, agonizing pity for their broken lives consumed her. She felt that if she possessed absolute executive power, she would never fail to rescue them from this criminal underworld.
Moh closed his eyes tightly, remaining completely motionless as he sat perched on the wooden chair. He hoisted one leg over the other, executing a low, steady, whistling tune that echoed eerily through the quiet room. Slowly and deliberately, he pulled a cigarette from his pocket, preparing to ignite it. Safiyyerh immediately intervened, her voice sharp with corporate disdain:
"This is the perfect emblem of an absolute imbecile’s choices in life! Even the Western creators of this chemical explicitly stated on the packaging that it systematically destroys human health! But of course, since you possess absolutely no Islamic education and zero Western literacy, you are entirely incapable of comprehending basic facts! Goodness, Safiyyerh, what exactly is wrong with you? This is absolutely none of your business!" She muttered to herself, abruptly rising to her feet to walk away.
But before she could even take a step, his towering frame materialized directly in front of her. He held the ignited cigarette between his fingers, deeply inhaling the toxic vapors and exhaling a thick cloud of smoke. Safiyyerh reached up to forcefully seal her nose and mouth, but Moh aggressively slammed his powerful hand against the structural wall behind her, pinning her completely in the center of his frame. The cigarette remained clenched between his lips as he bore down on her with his bloodshot, menacing eyes.
Her lips trembled violently as she shook her head, gasping, "What is the meaning of this absolute violation?!" Moh remained completely silent, lowering his face until it hovered mere millimeters away from hers, his intense gaze locking onto her trembling lips.
"This is an absolute display of unhinged, criminal harassment!" She shrieked, forcing courage into her voice. "I am a legally wedded, respectable married woman, damn you! Has your fractured brain completely failed to register basic reality?! If your syndicate successfully abducted me from my husband's estate, does that magically imply I will simply allow you to abuse me?! If your filthy, degenerate hands dare to touch a single millimeter of Safiyyerh’s skin, I swear by the Almighty I will never forgive myself! I am telling you with a thunderous voice: I am a married woman, do you hear me?! Do you even comprehend the Hausa language?!"
In response, Moh slowly removed the cigarette from his lips. Taking the massive cloud of toxic smoke he had just held within his lungs, he forcefully and directly exhaled it straight into her face. Safiyyerh instantly exploded into a violent fit of coughing, frantically turning her head away to seek clean air. Moh swiftly inhaled another massive drag from the cigarette, pressed his face closer to her neck, and forcefully exhaled the heavy smoke directly into her mouth just as she opened it to scream.
She swallowed the toxic fumes entirely. A violent, suffocating spasm racked her chest, and she began to violently gasp and retch, her body convulsing with an immediate urge to vomit. Seeing that she was on the absolute verge of physical collapse, Moh abruptly broke the contact, stepped back, and marched out of the room, slamming the door to hide himself in the adjacent chamber. Safiyyerh collapsed onto her knees on the hard floor, clutching her lower abdomen as a searing, agonizing pain ripped through her surgical wound, her body retching violently as she wept bitterly in the dark. Throughout the entire horrific exchange, Goje lay drifting in and out of consciousness nearby, silently witnessing the absolute madness unfolding between them.
Part 2: Structural & Conflict Analysis
This explosive transition acts as the definitive turning point for Book 1, blowing the narrative wide open by establishing deep psychological ties, high-level political stakes, and severe identity crises.
1. The Core Character Matrix
2. Major Plot Violations & Narrative Developments