Madadi Book Compelet Binta Umar Abbale

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MADADI BOOK COMPLETE 

"Innalillahi wa'inna ilaihi rajiun (Surely to Allah we belong and to Him we shall return)!" These were the words Baba Talatu uttered as she turned to look at Saddiqa, who was standing nearby in tears. She said, "Hurry up, fetch some water, she has fainted."
Saddiqa rushed out of the room, only to collide with Baba Malam and his eldest son, Alhaji Magaji. Baba Malam chided, "So you are all still crying? It seems you do not want Halima to rest in peace in her grave."
Shaking her head while trying desperately to wipe away her tears, Saddiqa replied, "Baba Malam, we have stopped crying. It is Sister Naja'atu who collapsed and fainted, which is why Baba Talatu told me to fetch some water."
Hearing this, Baba Malam and Alhaji Magaji hurried into the room. Saddiqa rushed out completely, fetched a cup of water, and returned to the room with it.
Baba Malam, who was kneeling beside Naja'atu offering prayers, collected the water and began to sprinkle it gently onto her face. Meanwhile, Baba Talatu stood by, silently wiping away her own tears and shaking her head in distress. After Baba Malam sprinkled the water for the third time, Naja'atu let out a deep, heavy gasp! Her eyelids fluttered open, and she quickly sat up, looking around frantically at everyone in the room.
Baba Talatu took her hand comfortingly and said, "Naja'atu, please have patience so you don't bring an illness upon yourself."
Suddenly, Naja'atu let out a piercing shriek! She clamped her hands over her ears, her entire body trembling violently with a strange tremor. She cried out, "Baba Talatu, my ears cannot bear this statement of yours! Where on earth has it ever been heard that a father marries his own daughter? It seems that you, Baba Malam, and even my own Abba are all pagans who do not know religion..."
Before she could finish her sentence, Alhaji Magaji slapped her hard across the face! He barked, "Get a hold of yourself and be sensible! We will not tolerate this nonsense and foolishness. Listen quietly so that the true reality of things can be explained to you."
Startled and furious, she sprang to her feet like a whirlwind, exclaiming, "Baba Magaji, I will understand nothing, nor will I calm down! I am not an infidel. By Allah, I will take my own life if you force me into a marriage with my own father! Didn't you hear his name? He is Abba to Naja'atu, that is his name, yet you want to bind me in marriage to him! I swear I will report all of you to Hisbah (the Islamic religious police)!" She concluded her outburst with a deeply agonizing weep.
Baba Malam wiped away a stray tear from his eye, held her hand firmly, and said, "Auta (the youngest), sit down. I will personally unravel what you do not know."
She violently yanked her hand away, attempting to leap past him to escape, but Alhaji Magaji quickly blocked her path. He said with absolute seriousness, "Naja, so you refuse to listen, right? Fine then, if you do not report us to Hisbah, then you do not love Allah."
She grabbed his hand, her body shivering like a leaf, and pleaded, "Abba Magaji, look into this matter critically! Analyze it deeply! How can they say that just because our mother passed away, I must be married off to my own father? What kind of life is this?!" She screamed the words in a distorted, emotional tone.
Equally enraged, he fired back, "Who on earth told you that Alhaji Abbas is your biological father?!"
Silence fell over her. She stared at him blankly, her lips trembling. With great difficulty, she managed to open her mouth, her voice shaking violently: "Baba Magaji... I don't understand what you mean."
Baba Malam gently pulled her down to sit beside him, holding her hand tightly within his own. He looked at her, overwhelmed with intense pity. He knew without a doubt that she was bound to be plunged into extreme confusion and trauma by the sudden revelation of a secret hidden for sixteen long years. To find out that the person she had known as her father her entire life was the very man she was being told to marry would leave anyone utterly devastated and lost.
The room fell into a heavy silence for about three minutes. Everyone felt numb, especially Naja'atu, whose heart raced with profound dread. Ever since Abba Magaji made the declaration that Abba Abbas was not her father, she had been shifting restlessly, darting her eyes between them. Her lips moved silently as she searched for words but found none. Finally, she burst into a fresh wave of tears, looking at Baba Malam, who kept his head lowered, wiping sweat from his brow.
She cried, "Baba Malam, do you want me to die too? Do you want to lose me the same way you lost my mother? My heart is on the verge of failing because of the calamity you have thrown me into! Baba Magaji claims that my Abba is not the one who fathered me... Fine, then tell me, who gave birth to me?!"
Baba Malam slowly raised his head, maintaining a calm demeanor. He said, "Naja'atu, I am your father. I am the one who sired you. Alhaji Abbas is only your foster father, and he was the husband to your older sister, Halimatu."
She stared at him in utter disbelief, shaking her head as tears washed over her face. In a faint, defeated voice, she whispered, "Baba Malam, how can this be? How could you play with my sanity like this? I do not accept that you are my father. Abba Abbas is my father; he is the only one I know. Since I was a child, he fed me, gave me drink, clothed me, and sponsored my education. He is the one I want to marry me off to the husband I have chosen for myself." She spoke with absolute conviction in her words.
Abba Magaji became deeply infuriated and opened his mouth to scold her, but Baba Malam raised his hand to stop him, saying, "Do not shout at her or reprimand her. It is only natural that she—and all of us—would react this way. Truly, death is what brought this upheaval upon us. If Halimatu were still alive, Naja'atu would have continued to live as her daughter, even though she is actually her younger sister. For now, let us let her calm down. Later tonight, we will hold another meeting to fully explain the past events that she knows nothing about."
Abba Magaji let out a soft sigh and said, "Very well then. May Allah choose what is best." Baba Malam replied with an "Amen," and they stood up and left the room together.
The moment they stepped out, Naja'atu turned her gaze to Baba Talatu and pleaded, "Baba, for the sake of Allah and His Prophet, do not let this happen. You are a sensible, mature woman who attends Islamic school; surely you know it is strictly forbidden (haram) for a father to marry his daughter?" She spoke with an air of desperation.
Baba Talatu replied firmly, "Naja'atu, Alhaji Abbas is not your father, as you have been told. He is the husband of your late sister, Halimatu—may Allah have mercy on her soul. Look at the child Alhaji Abbas fathered, she is sitting right here next to you, alongside her siblings like Mussadiq." She pointed toward Saddiqa, who was seated close by.
Naja'atu looked at them blankly, shaking her head. She had no idea where to store this massive, mind-boggling revelation in her heart. Abba Abbas was not her biological father, but Baba Malam was? Could they really be telling the truth, or were they merely weaving a lie to satisfy their own desires of forcing her into an incestuous union with her father? She knew she had to find a way out, for she completely rejected their claims.
Watching Baba Talatu and Saddiqa walk out of the room, she continued to shake her head, completely astounded by the situation. She lay down on the woven mat spread across the floor, her mind drifting back into the past, remembering her life with the people she had always cherished as her parents.

[Author's Subscription & Notice Details Omitted]

Chapter 2

Kofar Na'isa is a neighborhood steeped in rich history; anyone who has lived or spent time within the ancient city of Kano knows of its existence. Kofar Na'isa is renowned as an area populated by Islamic scholars, intellectuals, and highly educated Western-schooled professionals who apply their knowledge productively. Anyone who interacts with an indigene of this area quickly notices a distinct, divinely bestowed quality in their etiquette, as they possess exceptional interpersonal skills. The neighborhood accommodates both the wealthy and the less privileged; to a commendable extent, the comfortable citizens actively support the needy—particularly during the holy month of Ramadan, when they engage heavily in charity. It is exceptionally rare to hear of youth unrest, gang violence (Daba), or theft in this quarter. To the best of their abilities, the residents raise their children with sound moral discipline, balancing thorough Islamic values alongside Western education.
Alhaji Sama'ila Mai Kwano was a legendary, wealthy tycoon residing in the neighborhood. His fame was such that if you were looking for his house from the main road, you merely had to mention his name and anyone would gladly point you in the direction of his estate. Alhaji Sama'ila Mai Kwano was a selfless man, devoid of envy, who deeply loved his fellow human beings and neighbors. He had only three children, born to him by his wife, Hajiya Abu—two boys and one girl. His second and youngest wife, Hajiya Rabi, had never conceived throughout their many years of marriage. He lived harmoniously with her regardless, being a devout man who completely submitted his affairs to the will of Allah, knowing fully well that it is Allah who grants off-spring and He who restricts it.
Ramlatu was the eldest of his children, followed by Abbas, and then Alhasan, who was the youngest. As Abbas and his brother grew up in the neighborhood, they observed their father's upright, generous dealings with the neighbors and began to emulate him. This filled their father with joy, and he constantly reminded them that their behavior was the correct path. He taught them that among all the human beings Allah created, no one is inherently superior to another except through piety and devotion to God. He warned them never to act as though they were too elite to associate with those less fortunate than them, because Allah could easily strip them of their privileges overnight and hand them to the very people they looked down upon. For this reason, the boys free-spiritedly mingled with everyone in the neighborhood on equal terms.
Directly across from the grand gates of Alhaji Sama'ila's estate, separated only by a street, stood a modest, well-maintained house with a distinctive concrete stoop at its entrance. This was the home of Malam Baba, a pure, dignified, and deeply respected cleric. Malam Baba was a man devoted to continuous worship and the recitation of the Holy Qur'an; during every Ramadan, he conducted public Qur'anic exegesis (Tafsir) right at the entrance of his home, during which Alhaji Sama'ila would have large quantities of charity meals brought out from his estate to distribute. A profound bond existed between the two men; their characters matched seamlessly in their shared detachment from worldly vanities, allowing them to live in absolute peace with everyone. Alhaji Sama'ila took it upon himself to financially oversee Malam Baba's household expenses—not because the cleric was lazy, for Malam always went out to tend to his business and occasionally received generous gifts from his students, ensuring his home never lacked food. Malam Baba had three children with his wife, Baba Talatu: the eldest was Adamu (named after his grandfather but fondly called Magaji), Halimatu was the second, and Naja'atu was the youngest. By the time Naja'atu was conceived, her parents had completely given up hope of having another child. At the time of the unexpected pregnancy, Halimatu was on the verge of finishing her secondary school education at sixteen years of age.
An incredibly strong, clean bond of friendship existed between Abbas and Magaji. They did absolutely everything together: they studied together, tailored identical outfits, wore matching traditional caps, wore the same shoes, and even wore identical wristwatches! Allah also aligned their ages perfectly; currently, they were both around thirty-one or thirty-two years old. It was at this stage that their parents began raising the topic of marriage, as they were now highly mature and fully involved in running businesses in the market. Alhaji Sama'ila no longer went to the market frequently, having handed over his daily business operations to the young men. Alhaji Sama'ila owned over thirty shops in the bustling Sabon Gari market, all dealing in buying and selling. Their enterprise specialized in roofing sheets, doors, and building materials, alongside running concrete brick-making sites that produced blocks, interlocking stones, and tiles. Numerous families earned their livelihood under the employment of this godly man. Seeing that the boys had come of age, he integrated them fully into his commercial empire without ever showing an ounce of discrimination between his biological son, Abbas, and Magaji. Whatever he did for Abbas, he duplicated for Magaji. This level of fairness caused local gossips to whisper that Baba Malam must have cast a spell on the wealthy Alhaji to take control of his wealth. However, these rumors never bothered Alhaji Sama'ila, for he knew with absolute certainty that Malam Baba would never harm him or his lineage.
Mama Ramlatu, the eldest sister of Abbas, was married and lived a short distance away in the Tudun Wuzurci area of the neighborhood. Her husband was comfortably well-off but lived a polygamous lifestyle. Ramlatu was a proud, arrogant woman who loved to flaunt her wealthy background. She possessed a terrible attitude, relentlessly humilating her co-wife simply because she came from a poor background, throwing bitter taunts at her day in and day out. Whenever Alhaji Sama'ila sent financial gifts or luxury fabrics to Ramlatu's home, he generously included identical gifts for her co-wife. However, before Ramlatu would hand over the items, she would subject her co-wife to a barrage of insults and bragging. Being a patient woman, the co-wife would simply shake her head and ignore her. Ramlatu had clearly failed to inherit the humility of her father and brothers.
When Ramlatu gave birth to her firstborn son, her father showered her with luxury, filling an entire room with newborn gifts, while her husband’s father delivered a truckload of food provisions to the house. This fueled Ramlatu’s vanity even further. She would parade around the house throwing malicious barbs and insults at her co-wife, boasting that the household survived entirely on her own father's food and that everyone flaunted her family's wealth.
Sakina, her patient co-wife, knew these arrows were directed at her. She would retreat to her room, swallow her pain, and resolve that once their husband returned, she would report the reality of the domestic abuse to him, as she had officially reached her limit with Ramlatu's disrespect. She realized that Ramlatu possessed no sense of decency or appreciation; despite Sakina tirelessly assisting her with chores and standing on her feet since the delivery to ensure Ramlatu rested, she received no greetings or gratitude—only cutting words. Her patience had run out.
When their husband returned, ate, and rested, Sakina sat him down and detailed the toxicity occurring in the house behind his back. The news deeply upset him. He knew Sakina’s tolerant nature and knew she would never instigate trouble with Ramla despite being the senior wife (Uwargida). He apologized, saying, "Please be patient. Insha Allah, I will confront her and reprimand her thoroughly. But please, keep quiet for now and let this be the last time you argue. Whenever anything happens between you and Ramla, come directly to me and I will handle it fundamentally." She agreed.
When he walked into Ramlatu's room, he found her sitting on the edge of the bed, heavily made up and dressed in expensive lace with her headtie stylishly pushed back. One look at her confirmed she was a wealthy tycoon's daughter; her hands, ears, and neck glistened with pure gold. He sat close to her, took the baby she had just finished breastfeeding into his arms, muttered a protective prayer over him, laid him down, and turned to face her.
With a severe look on his face, he asked, "Ramlatu, is the way you treat Sakina in this house justifiable?!"
She frowned deeply, puffing up her face, and snapped, "What on earth did I do to her? I see she sat you down to feed you a web of lies, right?!"
He replied, "I know what Sakina is capable of, and I know what you, Ramla, are capable of. I know both your characters intimately. It isn't that I love Sakina more than you; you both hold an equal place in my heart. But you must know that your behavior toward your partner is utterly unacceptable! What kind of an ungrateful person are you? What hasn't Sakina done for you? When you stopped cooking entirely, didn't she prepare meals and serve them directly to your room? And that didn't stop you from taking your routine nights with me. If she were malicious, she could have refused to cook for you since it was her turn, yet she cooked so you could eat while lying down comfortably. Is this how you repay her?!"
Ramlatu burst into dramatic tears and cried, "Fine! You might as well just come out openly and tell me you love her more than me! What is this? You walk in here without asking for my side of the story and start lecturing me. I never asked her to cook for me; she chose to do it herself, and I am not impressed. Even if she didn't cook for me, I could easily have a maid sent over from my father's house to take care of me until my postpartum period is over!"
He countered angrily, "I swear to you, if you ever humiliate her again or brag about any material wealth brought into this house, I will make you deeply regret it!"
In a fit of rage, she fired back, "Fine! Since she is your idol, I should just lie down and let her trample all over me because she has your backing, right? For what reason? You and she survive on my family's wealth, yet you demand absolute obedience from me? By Allah, that will never happen!" she concluded, aggressively slapping her thigh.
Infuriated, he yelled, "I will put you in your place! You foolish, thoughtless girl. What is this food that you constantly brag about? What are these clothes that will eventually wear out and leave you bare? I am going directly to the Alhaji myself. I will tell him personally that I do not want a single grain of his food in my house anymore. If he sends anything, I will ensure it is returned immediately!" He stormed out of the room in a blind rage.
Ramlatu fell completely silent, struck with sudden panic. She began praying fervently that her husband would not actually go to her father with the matter, for she knew with absolute certainty that if her father found out the trouble originated from her, her life would become an absolute nightmare.
True to her fears, at around 5:30 PM, just as she finished bathing, a neighborhood boy ran into the compound calling out, "Ramlatu! Come to the entrance hall (soro), your father has arrived!"
Her heart dropped. She quickly put on her clothes, grabbed a woven mat, and rushed out. Upon reaching the entrance hall, she found Sakina kneeling respectfully, greeting the wealthy Alhaji. She stood frozen as she heard her father profusely apologizing to Sakina for the drama occurring in the house. When Ramlatu greeted him, he completely ignored her greeting and launched into a severe, scathing reprimand, ordering her to instantly beg her co-wife for forgiveness.
Crying bitterly, Ramlatu knelt and apologized to Sakina. Sakina quietly murmured, "It's nothing," stood up, and retreated back inside the main house.
The Alhaji glared at Ramlatu and warned, "By Allah, Ramlatu, if your husband ever brings a complaint about you to me again, count yourself dead to me! So you possess such a wicked character, eh? If I ever hear you bragging to anyone about anything I provide for this household again, I will deal with you mercilessly!"
Still weeping, she kept pleading for his forgiveness as she wiped her tears. Disgusted and furious, he marched out of the entrance hall, leaving her standing there entirely alone, holding the woven mat. From that day onward, Sakina enjoyed absolute peace in the house. Ramlatu completely stopped her petty bragging and dirty looks, keeping her distance to maintain an uneasy peace.
The exceptional care and protectiveness Abbas constantly showed toward Halimatu led their parents to believe he was deeply in love with her. In reality, his heart held no romance for her; he simply felt an immense sense of pity for her as a woman living with a physical disability. Halimatu had a deformed right leg; the deformity had occurred during her childhood, and despite exploring both traditional herbs and orthodox hospital treatments, her gait could never be corrected. Her family eventually accepted her destiny as the way the Almighty had fashioned her. Her right leg was noticeably shorter, causing her to limp heavily when walking. Face-wise, however, Halimatu was far from ugly; she was an incredibly beautiful woman of average height who conducted herself with profound elegance and serenity.
When their parents demanded it, Magaji easily selected a woman to marry. Abbas, however, remained single, paralyzed by an extreme pickiness when it came to choosing the future mother of his children. He was notoriously critical; no woman seemed to satisfy his high standards. Eventually, with great effort, he selected a girl named Halisa from a street nearby. Halisa happened to be Halima’s classmate and close friend; they frequently walked to school together.
Poor Halima! The moment she heard the news that Abbas was set to marry her closest friend, her peace vanished and her world came to a sudden standstill. She hadn't realized how deeply she loved him until she faced the reality of him marrying someone else. She sank into a severe depression, her usual cheerful disposition vanishing entirely until her parents noticed her withdrawal.
Being a highly perceptive mother, Baba Talatu quickly diagnosed what was eating away at her daughter’s heart. She sat her down and gave her a stern yet loving piece of advice: "Do not bring an illness upon yourself over what is not destined. A person can never marry a spouse that wasn't written for them by God. Continue to pray, and Allah will grant you your own righteous husband."
Despite her mother's comforting words, Halima could not shake off the depression. She was haunted by the insecurity of her disability, constantly wondering: Who would ever want to marry a cripple (gurguwa)? She feared she would spend her entire life abandoned and unmarried.
Meanwhile, the moment Halisa noticed Halima’s distress whenever the topic of Abbas came up, she maliciously weaponized it. Every single day on their walk to Islamic school, Halisa would deliberately bring up Abbas, detailing their deep romance and dates just to torment her. Halima would remain completely silent, refusing to engage, while Halisa laughed mockingly at her distress.
On one occasion, when Abbas went to visit Halisa at her home, she confronted him aggressively, demanding he state the exact nature of his relationship with Halimatu.
Shocked by her hostility, Abbas replied, "Halimatu is my younger sister. There is absolutely no romance between us."
Halisa sneered, "Well, even if you don't love her, she is deeply in love with you! You clearly haven't seen the depression she fell into the moment she found out about you and me. Therefore, you better nip this in the bud before it goes any further. Even though she is my friend, I absolutely do not think I can tolerate living as a co-wife with her!"
Abbas was stunned. Being a highly guarded and strictly principled man, he looked at her coldly and said, "Okey. So now you want to dictate to me how I should run my life? If I understand you correctly, you are saying you refuse to coexist with Halimatu as a co-wife, or what exactly...?"