Majanuni Book 4 By Binta Umar Abbale

Description

MAJANUNI BOOK 4 

After his departure, she became deeply worried, constantly thinking of a way to resolve her predicament. The honest truth was that leaving the house was her only chance at finding peace of mind. As it turned out, this was the exact trouble Baba Asabe had foreseen for her; things had completely fallen apart before they had even gotten anywhere.
For the past two days, even Hajiya Saude could not understand what was wrong with her. Whenever she visited her, she could not relax. She would quickly exchange greetings and leave, ensuring she never stayed long enough for the master of the house to find her there. She completely altered her daily routine in the house; she would lock up every single part of her quarters very early and retreat into the innermost bedroom, locking herself inside, all in an effort to protect her life.
Yet, despite all her efforts, the house guards kept a close eye on her. By now, they recognized her presence in the house, though they did not know her true status.
She eventually changed her strategy and began planning how to escape from the house entirely.
Friday was the day the house usually overflowed with people, both men and women, because it was the day the master distributed money to the needy. She figured she could simply disguise herself and blend into the crowd as an alms-seeker.
The house was completely packed with people. All the security guards were occupied outside, organizing the crowd into orderly lines before the master's arrival. This chaos granted her the opportunity to slip into an endlessly long queue of women.
Sule came out and announced to them: "Since it is late evening and the call to Maghrib prayer is fast approaching, please be patient. The master will come out only after the prayers are concluded."
No one expressed any dissatisfaction with this; everyone's sole focus was to get something to put in their pockets.
The moment she spotted him coming out, she quickly lowered her head, praying silently that Allah would prevent him from recognizing her. The crowd began bowing and showering him with greetings. He answered them appropriately before proceeding to his mosque attached to the house. Some followed him inside, while others performed their prayers within the courtyard, especially the women, since there were large, spacious sheds spread with carpets and mats.
Sitting calmly on a chair, he began overseeing the reason they had gathered there. Every recipient would express gratitude and leave the premises, filled with joy and cheerfulness.
The line kept moving until it finally reached her. With just a single glance, he instantly recognized exactly who was standing before him. Deeply astonished, he locked his eyes on her, staring intensely as he always did, causing her to instantly panic! She quickly averted her gaze and re-adjusted her hijab, which covered her entire face, leaving only her eyes visible.
Bowing slightly, she greeted him politely and held out her hand, gesturing for him to give her the money. Without hesitation, he handed it over, wanting to see what she was planning to execute in order to confirm his suspicions. True to his thoughts, the moment she received the money, she headed toward the exit with immense speed.
He quickly turned around toward where his two escorts stood at attention behind him. Both bowed down to receive his command.
Immediately, the guard on his right rushed toward the gate. By then, she had already stepped one foot outside the compound when she was abruptly halted.
Her heart pounded violently! This was it—the worst had happened, and it was all over.
The security officer pointed his gun at her before gesturing firmly with his hand, ordering her to turn back inside. She quickly complied with his order and walked back in, not wanting to draw the crowd's attention to them. The intense look he had given her earlier had already made her blood run cold, confirming that he had recognized her.
Seeing that the house security and guards had their attention diverted elsewhere, she hurried back toward her quarters, continuous prayers echoing in her heart.
She locked up everywhere and collapsed onto a chair, bursting into uncontrollable tears. What kind of calamity was this? Was this how she was destined to live—in perpetual terror and anxiety? She wondered what she was going to do with her life.
Her mind, her close advisor, reminded her that with every hardship comes ease, and that Allah is always present, so she should seek relief from Him. This brought a sudden wave of courage; she knew this advice was indeed the path to follow.
She performed her ablution and offered two raka'ats of voluntary prayer (nafila). Then, raising her hands with tears streaming down her face, she begged Allah to bring relief to her life and to choose whatever was best for her.
The next morning, she woke up feeling completely light and at peace. She firmly accepted that the Holy Qur'an is indeed the cure for every calamity, and that whoever finds themselves in distress and surrenders their affairs to Allah will find Him sufficient.
A day or two passed without any distressing incidents. Even though they crossed paths, he did nothing to her, let alone question her about her attempted escape!
Early on Monday morning, Hajiya went to the hospital for a medical checkup, accompanied by Shukura, as they planned to visit another neighborhood afterward.
Bolstered by her newfound courage, she entered the main house with an Islamic greeting on her lips. However, the sight of him sitting imperiously on a chair terrified her. She quickly turned around with the intention of leaving.
He stopped her, speaking in a flat, indifferent tone. "Where do you think you are turning back to? Didn't you come to greet Hajiya?"
She could only nod her head in response, signaling, "Yes, that's true."
He ordered her to sit down, saying, "Come and sit. She will be out shortly."
She looked at him but did not believe his words, because whenever she came to greet Hajiya at this hour, she would always find her already seated in the living room.
He said, "Your problem is arguing. Come and sit down, I said," gesturing toward the couch.
She let out a heavy sigh and cautiously went to sit on the floor near his feet, as there was no way she would sit on the couch while he was seated above her.
The scent of his perfume completely filled her nose, and her body grew weak. Whenever she caught the scent of his body, she could never understand what came over her; she just knew she found the fragrance incredibly pleasing.
He stood up abruptly. She quickly looked up and saw him heading toward the exit. She let out a quiet sigh of relief, thinking he was leaving the room. But to her utter shock, she watched him lock the door with a key.
"Innalillahi wa'inna ilaihi raji'un!" (To Allah we belong and to Him we shall return!) She uttered this phrase under her breath before standing up, their eyes locking as he turned around. She was terrified by the expression on his face, which carried no warmth or smile whatsoever.
He stepped up right next to her, until their bodies were mere inches apart. She backed away, but he advanced further. She backed away again, yet he still closed the distance! Finally, she raised her hand to warn him to stop what he was doing. He grabbed her hand, interlocking his fingers with hers until their palms met. His palm felt incredibly soft.
Feeling his hand slide down onto her backside as he attempted to draw her into an embrace, she violently wrenched her body away and retreated to a corner, tears instantly filling her eyes. This man was truly sinister!
She crossed her arms, tightly shielding her chest as she saw how his eyes were locked hungrily onto her. He smiled, the look in his eyes completely changing.
Raising his voice clearly, he said, "The other day, where were you planning to go when you disguised yourself among the crowd? Did you really think I wouldn't recognize you?"
She answered him directly, "I was trying to escape from your wickedness."
"Really?" he muttered, narrowing his heavily intoxicated, heavy-lidded eyes at her.
She nodded her head and said, "Absolutely. Because staying in this house is a direct threat to my life."
He lightly licked his lips before flashing a deceptive smile, saying, "Well, you have entered this house now, and it is for eternity."
She glared at him with a look of pure defiance. The gaze completely captivated him, throwing his senses into even greater turmoil. He found a chair and sat down, letting out a deep sigh.
"I love you," she heard the words drop from his lips.
She stared at him as he continuously repeated the phrase, "I love you, and I desire for you to surrender yourself to me."
A wave of profound distress washed over her. She looked at him, realizing he was still staring at her with that exact look she utterly despised. She said, "I am forbidden to you forever. No matter how intense your desire, I am far beyond your reach."
He smiled and licked his lips for a second time, completely consumed by raw lust. He said, "Stop boasting to me. Once you fall into my hands, I will not be lenient with you. I simply want us to do everything with calmness and mutual pleasure, which is why I am taking my time to coax you."
She retorted, "You will never get what you desire."
He stood up and advanced toward where she stood. She froze, thinking he was about to harm her. To her utter amazement, he dropped to his knees right before her, humbling himself. Softening his voice into a persuasive, seductive tone, he pleaded:
"I want you to yield to my desire. I mean, surrender yourself to me, even if it is just for a single day. By Allah, I promise to make you incredibly happy. I will give you anything from one million to one hundred million Naira, provided you give yourself to me. Furthermore, I will buy you an expensive car and build a house for your father. In fact, I promise to lift your entire lineage out of the shackles of poverty, as long as you let me taste your sweetness. By Allah, I am ready to sacrifice everything I own for you."
He spoke while keeping his head lowered, but he raised his voice clearly to ensure his message sank in.
She kept shaking her head, reciting invocations for protection against evil in her heart as warm tears began to stream down her cheeks. She now fully understood that all his twisting and turning around her was leading up to this exact demand; it was evident from the way he stared at her every time they met. But poverty was not madness. She resolved that no matter what wealth he offered her, she would never yield to his desires.
Seeing that she remained silent, merely staring at him with tears on her face, he stood up, his body trembling with excitement! He grabbed her tightly, running his hands down her back while showering her with kisses, until he successfully managed to pull off her headscarf, disheveling her hair, which she had neatly washed and tied back with a ribbon.
A sudden surge of strength came over her. She shoved him away and unleashed a piercing scream! Pressing both hands against her head, she began crying out the name of Allah over and over, weeping bitterly as she saw his demeanor change completely. He had become entirely unhinged! He attempted to pin her down onto the couch, while she fought back, hitting him frantically wherever she could. She did not stop screaming at the top of her lungs, crying out to Allah for rescue.
Using his superior strength, he held her down tightly, feeling as though her piercing screams were about to shatter his brain. He pinned her forcefully against the wall and clamped his mouth tightly over hers! He held her fast, blocking her from screaming. The moment their lips met, she felt as though a heavy wooden pestle had been slammed against her legs; she trembled violently, desperately trying to pull her mouth away, but it was entirely futile. He clamped down hard on her tongue, desperate to force her into submission.
Her body eventually went numb and limp, while a torrent of tears ran freely down her face, soaking his own face with her tears in the process. He wasn't crying, but the sheer intensity of the frenzy he was in had turned his eyes bloodshot. Both of them trembled violently in that embrace—hers was the shaking of pure horror and terror, while his was the tremor of raw, unadulterated lust and a desperate craving for something he had been deprived of for years.
Only after ensuring she had entirely quieted down and her body had gone completely limp did he pull his mouth away from hers. He stepped back slightly, thrusting his hands into his pockets, staring down at her with a gaze filled with a bizarre mix of pity and consuming obsession.
She collapsed at his feet, grabbing one of his legs, and wept, "For the sake of Allah and His Prophet, do not commit immorality with me! Do not bring the wrath of the Almighty upon us! Adultery is a grave sin! Especially for those who are married, a severe punishment has been prepared by the Almighty for those who commit this act. By Allah, in all my life, I have never committed fornication, and I pray never to start with you. I do not want anything from you; I am content to remain poor and helpless. What do you even want with me anyway? The town is full of beautiful, high-class women with flawless bodies. What do you want with a disabled, helpless girl like me? You have wealth, go find your own kind, but for the love of God, stay out of my life!"
She uttered these words in a state of absolute distress, weeping hysterically.
Yet, his face showed not a single shred of remorse. He pulled his leg away from her grip, went back to the couch, and sat down, staring at her without a hint of mercy. He said, "This is the very first time I have ever desired something from a woman and had her argue with me! Someone like me, asking you to give yourself to me, and you fill my ears with screams, even going as far as hitting, biting, and scratching me! What is the big deal anyway? First of all, if this happens between you and me, no one will hear or see it. You are working yourself up into a panic over absolutely nothing. No matter what you do, I will not abandon my goal. I must sleep with you, because my heart and my entire body demand it. Therefore, I will give you three days to go and think about it. But return to me with an answer that will satisfy me, because as I told you before, I cannot stay away from you." He concluded his speech, firmly asserting his dark intention.
She wiped away the flowing tears with her hand and said, "Are you truly not afraid of Allah? Are you not afraid of the Day you will stand before Him—the Day secrets will be exposed, the Day wealth and power will hold no sway? On that Day, Allah will expose to the public who you truly are, including the very people who hold you in high esteem and respect in this world. In this life, everyone respects you because of your generosity and the way you sacrifice your wealth to help others. On the surface, you appear to be a good man, but a part of you is deeply broken because of the wicked, hidden deeds you commit—the very things Allah has strictly forbidden.
In the Holy Qur'an, Allah, the Glorified and Exalted, commanded you to marry—from one, to two, and upwards—provided you have the means and can maintain justice." She took a brief breath before continuing, "Allah has blessed you with everything regarding worldly pleasures; He enriched you with wealth, life, health, hearing, and sight, without depriving you of anything. So why would you be ungrateful to Him? You possess the wealth to marry four wives and keep them in your house to uphold the Sunnah of the Prophet (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him). Yet, you choose to drag your dignity and respect through the dirt. Know that whatever boundaries you violate of another's child, the same will be done to yours. Therefore, fear Allah and stop pursuing my life."
Instead of being humbled or moved by her sermon, she watched as a smirk spread across his face. He began playing with his beard as though she had said something amusing, keeping his eyes locked onto her with a smile. After three agonizing minutes of silence, he finally spoke: "Thank you for the sermon, teacher. But I am letting you know right now; I stand firmly by my word, and I will not back down from my desire. You will give yourself to me, whether you like it or not. Go and make your decision; I have given you three days, just as I stated initially." The moment he finished speaking, he stood up and walked upstairs, leaving her sitting there in a state of absolute grief and profound shock.
During those designated days, she devoted herself entirely to reciting the Holy Qur'an, laying her grievances bare before Allah. Right now, she was trapped between a rock and a hard place, with absolutely no one to turn to or share her troubles with. Even the phone she possessed had been violently snatched from her hands by him on the very day she spoke with Saliha, and he had traveled without returning it to her. She simply remained in the house, surrendering all her affairs to Allah.
Today marked the final deadline of the days he had given her.
She tried her best to suppress her overwhelming anxiety, but it proved impossible. Hajiya Saude instantly noticed the profound worry hanging over her the moment she walked into the living room to greet her.
Hajiya looked at her before asking, "Shahida, for the past two days, I have noticed a deep worry about you. Is there something we are doing to upset you?"
She felt a powerful urge to open up and confess everything that had been happening. However, a second thought strictly warned her against it, fearing the unpredictable backlash. If she exposed the matter, she might end up taking the blame, as no one would ever believe her word against his.
She shook her head and replied, "Hajiya, it's nothing at all. I am just not feeling very well physically."
Hajiya smiled before asking, "Tell me, how many months along is your pregnancy?"
She quickly replied, "Hajiya, I am not pregnant at all."
"Oh, come on, my child. Then what is the meaning of all this constant illness and weakness you've been experiencing?"
She fell silent and said nothing.
Shukura emerged from her room fully dressed and ready, radiating the strong scent of perfume. She found a chair, sat down, and fixed her attention entirely on her phone. In an authoritative tone, she ordered, "Hey, Shahida, go inside my room and clean it up, and make sure you wash the toilet too."
Hajiya intervened, saying, "No, you'll have to do it yourself today. She is not well."
Shukura cast a disdainful look at Shahida, snapping her fingers as she grumbled, "Hajiya, honestly, I can't do anything right now. I've already taken my bath, and besides, my room isn't even that dirty! She should just get up and do it; after all, it's her job."
Hajiya insisted, "No, call Marka the housemaid to do it for you. As for this one, leave her alone so she can rest for at least today."
Just as Shukura was about to argue further, he walked into the space. Instantly, everyone fell silent, turning their eyes toward him—except for Shahida, who kept her head bowed. The moment the scent of his perfume filled the air, her anxiety skyrocketed, and her heart began to race violently.
He asked, "Hajiya, what were you all discussing? The moment I walked in, you all went dead silent as if you'd seen an angel."
Hajiya smiled before filling him in on the conversation.
He glared fiercely at Shukura before barking, "What exactly do you keep yourself busy with that prevents you from cleaning up your own mess?"
Shukura fell silent, offering no reply.
He commanded, "Don't you dare ever order her around to do your chores again. You dirtied it, and you will clean it up yourself."
Submissively, she mumbled, "Yes, Daddy."
Hearing this, Shahida stood up with the intention of leaving. She bowed slightly toward Hajiya and said, "Hajiya, I will be returning to my quarters now. Have a peaceful day."
Hajiya replied, "Alright, take care. May Allah grant you full health. But it would be wise to visit the hospital so a doctor can examine you thoroughly. This constant illness is becoming too much, especially since you claim you aren't pregnant."
Shahida merely offered a weak smile. She turned slightly toward the side where he was seated, but ensuring she never made direct eye contact, she muttered, "Alhaji, have a peaceful day."
He, too, responded without looking up at her, keeping his attention entirely locked onto his phone.
She exited the house in a great hurry, continuously invoking the protection of the Almighty against the horrific evil that was relentlessly pursuing her life.
The entire situation was agonizing. Sometimes, when a trial becomes too overwhelming, a person begins to prefer death over the life they are living. However, as the Hausa proverb goes: "When the razor gets close to the forehead, it burns the most." Indeed, every servant of God has their own destined fate, which no human being can alter. For her, she believed this was her own bitter destiny, which had walked on its own two feet to hunt her down right where she was. Without a doubt, this man had become her ultimate torment and fate. And the catalyst behind it all was none other than her own husband—the one she had whole-heartedly trusted and believed loved her. It turned out she had mistaken a dangerous mirage for water; he was a cruel, deceptive man, and her blind trust in him had allowed him to ruin her.
She had wept until she could no longer shed tears. Perhaps the inability to cry further was what caused her throat to constrict, feeling as though a massive, suffocating lump was lodged in her neck, coupled with an all-consuming dread that had completely taken root inside her.
With great difficulty, she managed to force down just five spoons of food before her stomach felt completely bloated. She drank some water and lay down limply across the chairs. The absolute darkness in the room was another misery entirely; the flashlight batteries had died long ago, leaking fluid and refusing to give off light. To make matters worse, she hadn't seen Sule for the past two days to ask him for replacements.
She closed her eyes tightly, calling upon the name of Allah to bring swift intervention to her life.
Suddenly, she sensed a movement over her, accompanied by the overpowering, familiar scent of his perfume crashing into her nose. She jolted her eyes open and sat up in absolute terror! It was him—he had entered. But through which way? She had personally locked every single door!
"Innalillahi wa'inna ilaihi raji'un!" was all she could utter before dragging her body backward, cowering tightly against the edge of the couch.
The room fell into a dead silence for five agonizing minutes. Finally, he raised his voice clearly and demanded, "Where exactly did we leave our discussion? I hope you haven't forgotten that today marks the expiration of the deadline I gave you."
She remained entirely silent, staring at him blindly through the gloom, as the only light in the room came from the screen of his phone.
He said, "Does your silence confirm to me that you have yielded to my demand?"
She uttered absolutely nothing in response. A dark, desperate resolution instantly formed in her mind. Abruptly, she stood up and darted into the kitchen with fierce speed!
He followed her with his eyes, his mind racing with curiosity.
Emerging from the kitchen, she gripped a massive, razor-sharp kitchen knife with both hands—the kind meant for slicing through bone. She marched back and stood over him, panting heavily like a venomous viper!
His heart skipped a beat! However, he refused to let his fear show. Instead, he simply adjusted his posture on the chair, staring up at her as her body trembled violently, the knife gleaming dangerously in her hands.
He asked, "What exactly do you think you are doing?"
She answered him directly, "I am going to kill you. I will wipe out your wicked kind."
Her words instantly amused him. With a smirk spreading across his face, he pointed a finger at his own chest and asked, "You? You are going to kill me?"
She hissed, "Absolutely. What is your worth in this world anyway? By Allah, you are utterly useless!"
He laughed out loud and said, "Alright, I hear you. So how do you want us to handle this now?"
"Get out of my life permanently if you want to keep breathing on this earth!" she ordered, tightening her double-handed grip on the handle of the knife.
"I cannot do that, because as I told you before, my heart and my entire body thoroughly crave you."
"Then it means you are ready to forfeit your life!" she shouted, letting out a sharp gasp. Before he could even anticipate her movement, she swung the knife down at him with terrifying force! He dodged out of the way with lightning speed, causing the blade to slam violently into the armrest of the couch. The force of the blow was so immense that the knife sliced clean through the upholstery, exposing the foam inside!
Her entire body shaking with adrenaline, she screamed, "They can kill me if they want, but I swear by Allah, I will end your life if you—"

Story Analysis & Context Summary

Narrative Context

This text represents chapters 63, 64, 65, and 66 from a Hausa domestic thriller/drama novel written by Binta Umar Abbale. The overarching plot centers around Shahida, a vulnerable, married, and physically disabled/helpless young woman who is trapped in a wealthy household. She has been betrayed by her own husband (who handed her over or abandoned her to this situation) and is now being relentlessly stalked, blackmailed, and sexually harassed by the wealthy and powerful master of the estate (Alhaji / Daddy).

Key Plot Milestones in this Excerpt

• The Failed Disguise and Escape: Desperate to flee the estate, Shahida tries to blend in with a massive Friday crowd of poor locals receiving alms. The master spots her through her veil, allows her to take the money to confirm his suspicions, and then commands his armed guards to intercept her at the gate at gunpoint.
• The Ultramundane Ultimatum: Alhaji corners Shahida inside the house, locks the doors, and physically restrains her. He tries to bribe her with millions of Naira, cars, and a new home for her father if she surrenders herself to his lust for "just one day." When she invokes Islam and warns him of divine retribution against adultery, he laughs it off and gives her a strict three-day deadline.
• The Domestic Trap: Shahida considers opening up to the matriarch, Hajiya Saude, but stays silent out of fear that no one will believe a poor girl's word over a powerful man's. Alhaji maintains a false public persona of a pious, generous patriarch while secretly tracking Shahida's every move.
• The Breaking Point: On the night of the deadline, Alhaji uses duplicate keys to break into her dark, locked quarters. Pushed to her psychological limits, Shahida grabs a large carving knife from the kitchen and attempts to assassinate him, slicing deep into the couch as he narrowly dodges the fatal blow.