So she left all her belongings to Alawiyya — even the living room furniture. Alawiyya kept crying in gratitude, amazed that she now owned such luxurious items all at once. She had already decided she would sell her old furniture and send the money to her younger paternal aunt who had raised her, since she was an orphan.
Alti also thanked Bilki on her behalf.
That evening, Basma visited her. They talked, and Basma was happy to see that Bilki had regained some peace of mind and felt glad about the upcoming marriage. She reassured her that she would look after Amrah and the others as much as she could. Bilki gave her new warmers and told her to take anything she needed. Before Maghrib, Basma left.
Later that night, Alawiyya’s husband came to pick her up on his motorcycle. He was a businessman who sold vegetables supplied from Raudatul Jannah Foods in Jos. He came upstairs to greet “Mahmah,” since he was already familiar with the household — Bilki had earlier sent him to Kafur, Alawiyya’s hometown, to meet her guardians before approving their marriage.
He expressed deep gratitude for the kindness shown to them. Alawiyya had already told him about the generous gifts she received — including brand-new bedroom furniture Bilki bought for her, though it didn’t compare to what she had just been given.
Before she left, Bilki pulled Alawiyya aside and told her she would be getting married the following week. Alawiyya was genuinely happy — she bore no ill feelings toward her guardian. She prayed heartfelt prayers for her and promised that as long as she remained in Katsina, Farouk and Amrah would have an older sister like a true sibling. She would care for them the way she had been cared for.
Bilki felt reassured because she trusted Alawiyya completely — and the children themselves had testified to her kindness.
They parted peacefully with prayers for one another.
Do you treat those who work for you with fairness and kindness?
You never know how they might help you in the future. Everyone has their day. If Bilki had not treated Alawiyya well, she would not have cared for her children sincerely when she wasn’t around.
That night after dinner — and after Farha had fallen asleep — Bilki and Alti told the children about her upcoming marriage.
All of them went quiet and simply said, “May Allah make it good.”
But deep inside, they wondered: does this mean she is leaving their father’s house forever?
In a soft voice, Amrah asked,
“Mahmah, who is he? And where will you live?”
Without enthusiasm she replied,
“It’s Uncle Asad. I’ll live in Abuja.”
Amrah fell silent. She didn’t know how she felt. Her heart told her he was wealthier than their father, but she still believed their father was kinder and more handsome.
Before she could speak again, Farouk asked,
“Mahmah, the police uncle?”
She nodded yes.
He held her hand and said,
“But my friend is kinder and better-looking, Mahmah.”
Softly she replied,
“I didn’t choose him for looks. It’s destiny. Just keep praying for me.”
They agreed quietly — even Farouk, who once thought it was better she left somewhere she wouldn’t cry anymore, now felt drained by the thought of her remarrying. Jealousy is something else — it affects children and adults alike. May Allah protect us from it.
The next day they left Katsina. They dropped the children at Alawiyya’s place first because they planned to stop in Kano at Yaya Hamida’s house.
As they drove farther from Katsina, longing for her children overwhelmed Bilki again. Though the children didn’t create much drama, all of them cried. Farha cried almost the entire journey to Kano, begging to stay and not return to Abuja. She only stopped when sleep overtook her.
The next morning at Yaya Hamida’s house, after breakfast, Bilki informed her about the marriage to Yaya Asad.
Immediately Hamida burst into tears.
“So this is what resentment does — especially among blood relatives,” she said bitterly. “But unless there is a solid reason, you will never see me step into his house. What do you want with that rude, ill-mannered old man who insists on marrying you? Allah protected you from him when you were young. Those uniformed men — very few are good; most are womanizers. Since he didn’t attend our mother’s condolence and sided with that reckless Abida against Yaya Sulaiman — I swear I want nothing to do with him. I will show love to your children — Amrah and Farha — but as for his children? Only minimal courtesy, and that too because they came from your body.”
Tears streamed down Bilki’s face.
“I don’t even love him. Yaya Farouk pressured me. Even Baba knows I don’t love him.”
Hamida said,
“Well, since you all have agreed, I won’t interfere. But as for me, we have nothing to do with him — especially Asad, that harsh man with a dark face and darker heart.”
They wiped their tears and later cut her daughter’s birthday cake earlier than planned so Bilki and Farha could take pictures before leaving.
Though Bilki was skilled in snacks and catering, she asked about the baker because the cake and snacks were delicious. When she heard the price, she nodded in approval and collected the contact to share with her Kano friends.
Later that afternoon, they continued their journey to Abuja.
Hamida’s harsh words about Asad deepened Bilki’s doubts. That night he called her more than five times; she didn’t answer. Her heart was restless, filled with doubts. She even considered speaking harshly so he would cancel the marriage himself — but she couldn’t bring herself to do it due to her upbringing and respect for elders.
The next day at 11 a.m., he visited her house.
He was dressed in expensive white fabric. After greeting his parents, he came into the sitting room. Amal, Noor, and Farha ran to him joyfully. He gave them sweets and cookies.
Noor asked,
“Daddy, when will you take us back home?”
He hugged her and said,
“Be patient. Didn’t I tell you Mahmah is your mom now?”
She nodded.
“When we return from our trip, we’ll come together and take you all — including Farha — to our home.”
Later, when Bilki finally came out, she greeted him softly.
He looked concerned.
“You’ve disturbed my mind, Maigado. Why have you stopped answering my calls? Whatever it is, say it directly.”
She remained silent, looking weak and drained.
He softened his tone, asked about the children, even suggested bringing them to Abuja for schooling.
She appreciated the thought but said their father wouldn’t agree.
They talked about the children’s future — medicine, universities abroad — and gradually her mood softened. Seeing her calm, he left without discussing marriage again.
But that night, she asked him to postpone the wedding until after his trip.
He panicked.
“Why? What changed? Don’t change your words. Allah knows how much I love you.”
Finally she expressed her grievance:
“You don’t love my siblings. When my mother died, you didn’t come — only called. And you didn’t correct Abida when she disrespected Yaya Sulaiman.”
He explained he wasn’t in the country at the time and denied any ill intentions. He pleaded for their marriage to become a means of reconciliation within the family.
Eventually she gave in.
Later that night, Baba sat with Asad and Farouk, advising him:
“Marriage wipes away grudges quickly. The Prophet married across tribes to unite people. Do your best to mend ties with Bilki’s family. Continue searching for Sulaiman. And remember, Abida has lived in regret for years.”
Asad smiled when told Bilki would come with her daughter and Alti — and even said if the children in Katsina were released by their father, he would take them all.
---
And finally…
Hawwah came downstairs after hearing heavy sighing from Sahal.
She found him pacing restlessly, visibly shaken by something deeply troubling him.
Softly she said,
“Father of Amrah, calm down… sit properly before you collapse…”
So she left all her belongings to Alawiyya — even the living room furniture. Alawiyya kept crying in gratitude, amazed that she now owned such luxurious items all at once. She had already decided she would sell her old furniture and send the money to her younger paternal aunt who had raised her, since she was an orphan.
Alti also thanked Bilki on her behalf.
That evening, Basma visited her. They talked, and Basma was happy to see that Bilki had regained some peace of mind and felt glad about the upcoming marriage. She reassured her that she would look after Amrah and the others as much as she could. Bilki gave her new warmers and told her to take anything she needed. Before Maghrib, Basma left.
Later that night, Alawiyya’s husband came to pick her up on his motorcycle. He was a businessman who sold vegetables supplied from Raudatul Jannah Foods in Jos. He came upstairs to greet “Mahmah,” since he was already familiar with the household — Bilki had earlier sent him to Kafur, Alawiyya’s hometown, to meet her guardians before approving their marriage.
He expressed deep gratitude for the kindness shown to them. Alawiyya had already told him about the generous gifts she received — including brand-new bedroom furniture Bilki bought for her, though it didn’t compare to what she had just been given.
Before she left, Bilki pulled Alawiyya aside and told her she would be getting married the following week. Alawiyya was genuinely happy — she bore no ill feelings toward her guardian. She prayed heartfelt prayers for her and promised that as long as she remained in Katsina, Farouk and Amrah would have an older sister like a true sibling. She would care for them the way she had been cared for.
Bilki felt reassured because she trusted Alawiyya completely — and the children themselves had testified to her kindness.
They parted peacefully with prayers for one another.
Do you treat those who work for you with fairness and kindness?
You never know how they might help you in the future. Everyone has their day. If Bilki had not treated Alawiyya well, she would not have cared for her children sincerely when she wasn’t around.
That night after dinner — and after Farha had fallen asleep — Bilki and Alti told the children about her upcoming marriage.
All of them went quiet and simply said, “May Allah make it good.”
But deep inside, they wondered: does this mean she is leaving their father’s house forever?
In a soft voice, Amrah asked,
“Mahmah, who is he? And where will you live?”
Without enthusiasm she replied,
“It’s Uncle Asad. I’ll live in Abuja.”
Amrah fell silent. She didn’t know how she felt. Her heart told her he was wealthier than their father, but she still believed their father was kinder and more handsome.
Before she could speak again, Farouk asked,
“Mahmah, the police uncle?”
She nodded yes.
He held her hand and said,
“But my friend is kinder and better-looking, Mahmah.”
Softly she replied,
“I didn’t choose him for looks. It’s destiny. Just keep praying for me.”
They agreed quietly — even Farouk, who once thought it was better she left somewhere she wouldn’t cry anymore, now felt drained by the thought of her remarrying. Jealousy is something else — it affects children and adults alike. May Allah protect us from it.
The next day they left Katsina. They dropped the children at Alawiyya’s place first because they planned to stop in Kano at Yaya Hamida’s house.
As they drove farther from Katsina, longing for her children overwhelmed Bilki again. Though the children didn’t create much drama, all of them cried. Farha cried almost the entire journey to Kano, begging to stay and not return to Abuja. She only stopped when sleep overtook her.
The next morning at Yaya Hamida’s house, after breakfast, Bilki informed her about the marriage to Yaya Asad.
Immediately Hamida burst into tears.
“So this is what resentment does — especially among blood relatives,” she said bitterly. “But unless there is a solid reason, you will never see me step into his house. What do you want with that rude, ill-mannered old man who insists on marrying you? Allah protected you from him when you were young. Those uniformed men — very few are good; most are womanizers. Since he didn’t attend our mother’s condolence and sided with that reckless Abida against Yaya Sulaiman — I swear I want nothing to do with him. I will show love to your children — Amrah and Farha — but as for his children? Only minimal courtesy, and that too because they came from your body.”
Tears streamed down Bilki’s face.
“I don’t even love him. Yaya Farouk pressured me. Even Baba knows I don’t love him.”
Hamida said,
“Well, since you all have agreed, I won’t interfere. But as for me, we have nothing to do with him — especially Asad, that harsh man with a dark face and darker heart.”
They wiped their tears and later cut her daughter’s birthday cake earlier than planned so Bilki and Farha could take pictures before leaving.
Though Bilki was skilled in snacks and catering, she asked about the baker because the cake and snacks were delicious. When she heard the price, she nodded in approval and collected the contact to share with her Kano friends.
Later that afternoon, they continued their journey to Abuja.
Hamida’s harsh words about Asad deepened Bilki’s doubts. That night he called her more than five times; she didn’t answer. Her heart was restless, filled with doubts. She even considered speaking harshly so he would cancel the marriage himself — but she couldn’t bring herself to do it due to her upbringing and respect for elders.
The next day at 11 a.m., he visited her house.
He was dressed in expensive white fabric. After greeting his parents, he came into the sitting room. Amal, Noor, and Farha ran to him joyfully. He gave them sweets and cookies.
Noor asked,
“Daddy, when will you take us back home?”
He hugged her and said,
“Be patient. Didn’t I tell you Mahmah is your mom now?”
She nodded.
“When we return from our trip, we’ll come together and take you all — including Farha — to our home.”
Later, when Bilki finally came out, she greeted him softly.
He looked concerned.
“You’ve disturbed my mind, Maigado. Why have you stopped answering my calls? Whatever it is, say it directly.”
She remained silent, looking weak and drained.
He softened his tone, asked about the children, even suggested bringing them to Abuja for schooling.
She appreciated the thought but said their father wouldn’t agree.
They talked about the children’s future — medicine, universities abroad — and gradually her mood softened. Seeing her calm, he left without discussing marriage again.
But that night, she asked him to postpone the wedding until after his trip.
He panicked.
“Why? What changed? Don’t change your words. Allah knows how much I love you.”
Finally she expressed her grievance:
“You don’t love my siblings. When my mother died, you didn’t come — only called. And you didn’t correct Abida when she disrespected Yaya Sulaiman.”
He explained he wasn’t in the country at the time and denied any ill intentions. He pleaded for their marriage to become a means of reconciliation within the family.
Eventually she gave in.
Later that night, Baba sat with Asad and Farouk, advising him:
“Marriage wipes away grudges quickly. The Prophet married across tribes to unite people. Do your best to mend ties with Bilki’s family. Continue searching for Sulaiman. And remember, Abida has lived in regret for years.”
Asad smiled when told Bilki would come with her daughter and Alti — and even said if the children in Katsina were released by their father, he would take them all.
---
And finally…
Hawwah came downstairs after hearing heavy sighing from Sahal.
She found him pacing restlessly, visibly shaken by something deeply troubling him.
Softly she said,
“Father of Amrah, calm down… sit properly before you collapse…”