Uncle Nasiru and Daddy Imran entered the house at almost the same time, as both were returning from their respective workplaces. The new driver, who was sitting with the security guard, watched them closely. He had been at the house for six days now but had never seen Uncle Nasiru; he had only seen Imran once. As for Daddy Imran, he had gone on a short trip shortly after Mammah’s departure; he had seen him just once before that trip and he returned four days later. On the day he returned, he came to the house while the driver was away picking up the children from Islamiyya (Islamic school). Just as the driver’s car drove out, Daddy Imran arrived with them. Since that day, he hadn’t visited again until today. Uncle Nasiru, on the other hand, hadn't checked on the house at all since Mammah traveled because he was overwhelmed with work, and he knew the children rarely stayed home anyway—only Ja'afar's wives were around.
While they were in the middle of exchanging greetings, the security guard finished locking the gate and walked toward them. The driver felt compelled to follow him over to where the men stood. They bowed respectfully to greet them, even though the new driver was roughly the same age as Imran—or perhaps slightly older—despite Imran possessing that robust, militarily disciplined physique of someone who enjoys a comfortable and healthy lifestyle. Uncle Nasiru teased them lightly. Imran, however, fixed his gaze intently on the new driver. Eventually, Uncle Nasiru noticed and asked, “Imran, what is it? Do you know him?”
With a slight smile, Imran shook his head and replied, "No, Uncle. I was just lost in a completely different thought." Without waiting for Uncle Nasiru's response, he turned to the driver and acknowledged his greeting. With that, they left the area, though the driver kept his eyes glued to their backs. Inside his pounding heart, his mind raced with anxious thoughts: *(There is definitely a problem here. Even if that bastard didn't recognize me, he is suspicious of me. I absolutely have to change my tactics. I didn't come all this way just to leave without completing the mission that brought me here).* In reality, however, he simply stood up, walked back to the gate, and sat down on his chair. He then pulled out his small Nokia phone, began scrolling through it, and placed it to his ear..…
★ In the living room, both Imran and Uncle Nasiru were deeply pleased to see how much Mammah’s health had improved. It was apparent she had received much better medical treatment than what was available back home, as this was their very first medical trip to Egypt. Since Nimrah and the others had reluctantly gone to Islamiyya, the house was quiet; they had initially protested going today, wanting to celebrate Mammah's return instead. It wasn't until Yaya Ma'aruff strictly chased them out that they finally left, pouting. Only Biebah was home, having returned from school not long before. Mu'azz had followed Imam to his house.
Mammah looked at Biebah, who was picking sluggishly at her food because she felt unwell, having returned from school with a severe headache. Seeing Mammah had cheered her up slightly, but just like her other siblings, the presence of the stranger in the house weighed heavily on her mind. At that moment, Aunty Momy, Aunty Ummi, and Ammar were in her room, deeply engrossed in a discussion.
“Biebah, stand up and call your Uncle for me.”
Biebah looked up at Mammah, softly replied "Okay," and stood up.
"Are you feeling alright, Biebah?" Imran asked.
Her eyes welled with tears as she replied, “Yaya, my head hurts.”
“Oh, sorry, Auta (the youngest), it must be stress. Go do that quickly, then come back to take some medicine and lie down before the noisy ones return and prevent you from resting.”
She nodded in agreement. Uncle Nasiru also offered his sympathies. She acknowledged them and went to deliver Mammah's message…
It didn't take long before she returned, announcing that he said he was on his way. Instead of sitting back down to eat, she picked up her plate and took it to the kitchen. When she returned holding a cup of water, she tried to head straight to her room. Right at that moment, Uncle Tasi'u entered the living room with a greeting (*Salam*). Everyone answered, looking toward him. Uncle Nasiru immediately stood up, staring at him intently. Imran, however, did not know him personally—he had only heard stories of what happened in the past—so he showed no signs of shock or worry. He simply began offering him a warm welcome. But Uncle Tasi'u failed to respond because his attention was entirely fixed on Uncle Nasiru.
"Tasi'u!" Uncle Nasiru exclaimed in absolute shock and disbelief.
For the first time, Tasi'u lowered his head, his eyes filling with tears. After about five seconds, he looked up again and stepped toward Uncle Nasiru, his legs trembling. As soon as he reached Uncle Nasiru, he collapsed heavily onto his knees. Imran’s eyes widened in shock as he stood up, finally realizing that there was a major issue at hand and that this stranger brought immense emotional weight—after all, he was no child, yet he was kneeling before Uncle Nasiru. Imran looked at Mammah and saw that she, too, had lowered her head, looking as if she was about to cry. He shook his head. In a vulnerable voice, he asked, “Mammah, who is he, for God's sake? I see a resemblance, is he a sibling?”
Mammah looked up at Imran, fighting back the tears filling her eyes. With a faint smile on her face, she answered his question without hesitation. Deep down, she viewed Imran just like Haysam—feeling as though she had carried him in her own womb.
“Imran, Tasi'u is my full biological younger brother. You don't know him because of certain things that happened in the past. But those things are long gone, and I have forgiven him. We crossed paths with him at the hospital, and it has been four days now.”
Imran felt completely stunned, as if rooted to the spot. Uncle Tasi'u’s crying now filled the living room; he held onto Uncle Nasiru's legs, weeping bitterly and begging for forgiveness like a child. Uncle Nasiru stood frozen, utterly speechless, his eyes turning bloodshot.
The sound of Uncle Tasi'u’s weeping brought Aunty Ummi and the others downstairs. Actually, Biebah had gone to call them, having watched everything unfold from her hiding spot. Ammar, who had reached his limit, said angrily, “Honestly, I am completely fed up with this drama.”
Mammah and the others turned to look at them, unaware they had come downstairs. Before anyone else could speak, Aunty Ummi interjected, “You aren't the only one tired of this drama, Ammar; we are too. That is exactly why Yaya Ja'afar and the others left the house, and we were only waiting for Uncle Nasiru's arrival to leave as well. If Mammah possesses a heart full of endless tolerance and patience, we do not. There is no way a snake will bite us from a hole, and then we will stick our foot back into that same hole thinking it won't bite a second time. As the Hausa saying goes, *'Knowing someone's true character is far better than just knowing their face.'* Therefore, Uncle! Yaya! You should either advise him to return to where he came from, or he should find accommodation outside of this house. That is the honest truth.”
As soon as she finished speaking, she turned and left the living room in tears. Ammar and the others followed right behind her. Mammah tried to stop them, but Uncle Nasiru shook his head, signaling her to let them go…
Mammah was forced to keep quiet, and he stood up, saying, “Tasi'u, get up. Let's go over to my house and give them space here for a day or two.”
Neither Tasi'u nor Mammah argued, as they both deeply respected Uncle Nasiru as their eldest brother. After they left, Imran didn't stay much longer either; he headed home with a mind racing with countless unsettling thoughts...…
### **★ PRISON ★**
Upon returning to his cell, he sat on the edge of his bed, watching the soldiers finish mounting a television on the wall. He didn't speak to them; he hadn't even verbally responded to their greetings when he walked in, opting instead to just raise his hand. Once finished, they exited the room, pulling the heavy door shut and locking him in. He closed his eyes, appearing to sleep, but his brilliant mind was actively calculating and assessing everything that had just transpired.
"Facemask Analysis. Camera hidden in the wristwatch," he muttered under his breath with a brief smirk, his eyes remaining closed. In his mind, he meticulously broken down the stranger’s profile with the analytical precision of an expert operative: *(A fake face, a tactical watch, the steady eyes of a cold-hearted man, and an advanced age that indicates decades of survival and struggle. The subtle movement of his pupils reveals he is a highly trained operative. This means he is one of their top ranking officials, not a novice. The threat he uttered... they claim they control the leaders... which implies deep infiltration within the government. This could be the very unit that reports to the Board of Inquiry. He mentioned those close to me. That explains how Imran was able to visit me so easily five years ago, and now they are the ones who orchestrated his suspension. If this is true, then there are eyes surrounding Imran both within the military command and outside of it. Imran could be in constant danger, because even if it costs him his life, he will never back down from a direct confrontation).*
He exhaled a heavy breath and squeezed his eyes shut. Imran was like a piece of his own flesh; hurting Imran was equivalent to tearing down his own resilience.
The third issue was their question: *(Why have they kept me alive until now? This is a question that has long plagued my own mind as well. Surely, if I were in their position, I would eliminate anyone I feared—especially if their existence posed a catastrophic threat to my nation, let alone my personal agenda. Yet, they need me alive. Why?)* He remained silent for a long time, then sat up straight, picked up a pen and paper, and wrote down that exact question:
*"They need me? For what? To watch me? To use me? Or to fear me?"*
He pressed the pen against his lips, which were slightly dry because he was fasting today. The fourth issue: *(The game they claim has begun... does that mean they have a massive operation planned for this period? A new terrorist attack? Or a political coup? But they don't need someone like me to figure out who they are or where the vulnerability lies. Is this a miscalculation on their part, or am I misinterpreting the data?)* He lapsed into silence again, deep in analytical thought.
For a long time, he paced through his thoughts, eventually turning his gaze toward the television that had been installed in his room. For the first time, he stood up, set aside his book and pen, and walked over to the TV. After inspecting every inch of the frame to ensure no hidden cameras were embedded within it, he picked up the remote and began searching through the channels. The stations programmed into the decoder were strictly vetted; there were only three channels available, all displaying nothing but news loops. Even then, the coverage was highly selective—mostly focused on the political campaigns that had begun roughly three months ago. Slowly, his eyes narrowed, and a sharp, cynical smile spread across his face. He placed the remote back exactly where he found it and returned to sit on the edge of the bed.
The detail that bothered him the most replayed vividly in his brain: *(They claim they control the minds of the elites. If that is true, the intelligence Imran brought me regarding the retired General... I must re-analyze it completely. One of them could be pulling the General's strings from the shadows, and that access alone is how they could get to Imran. Based on what they let slip, it is clear that Imran's first and second visits caused serious panic within this sinister organization—which is precisely why they blocked him from coming back).*
He smiled faintly, realizing the most critical piece of the puzzle: they were still absolutely terrified of him. That was why they banned visitors, cut off his communication with the outside world, and isolated him in a cell where he saw no one except the guards who delivered his meals and necessities. He had long realized that the guards wore body cameras that transmitted live feeds of their every entry and exit. The stranger's visit wasn't just to deliver a threat; they wanted to see if his spirit had broken yet. They wanted to see if isolation had shattered him. They wanted to verify if he still possessed that formidable strength they so deeply feared. Ultimately, he found himself looking down on their intelligence. If they truly possessed the absolute power they boasted about, they wouldn't have felt the need to come and tell him face-to-face. No one sends a threat unless they are afraid of the recipient.
He scoffed. This realization fueled his determination, spark of anger, and a renewed drive to finalize his plans. He had to send a message to Imran without a single moment of delay...........✍️
Three days after Mammah’s return, the household welcomed visitors from Bauchi who had traveled down for Aunty Mommy's baby naming ceremony: Gwaggo Khadijah, Gwaggo Alawiyya, and Gwaggo Nanah. They were accompanied by Uncle Jamilu's wife, who was visiting them for the very first time. Ever since the terrible things she had done to Mammah's family years ago, she had felt too deeply ashamed to ever face them. However, she felt genuine remorse in her heart, especially now that Mammah's family practically sustained their livelihood; Ja'afar and the others had generously opened a large boutique for Uncle Jamilu in Bauchi free of charge, which provided their daily sustenance. Furthermore, they had taken full financial responsibility for sending her children to an excellent school. Gwaggo Nanah stood out as an exceptional soul among Inna's children; she had always done her best to support them even during their hardest times, just like Gwaggo Khadijah and Gwaggo Alawiyya did. Her only constraint had been the fear of her older siblings, like Yaya Babba, which used to keep her away from Mammah's house. This time around, her own siblings had turned their backs on her; her husband had abandoned her and disappeared for two years without a trace, and her family refused to help her despite the immense hardship she and her children were facing. With no one to support her except Uncle Jamilu and Gwaggo Khadijah, she resolved to attend this naming ceremony to personally inform Mammah of her plight in hopes of receiving assistance. Uncle Jamilu had even paid for her travel fare.
Mammah was overjoyed to see them. This was especially true for Gwaggo Nanah and Uncle Jamilu's wife, Badiyya, both of whom were acting visibly hesitant, quietly marveling at God's divine justice upon seeing the magnificent home and successful family Mammah possessed today. Truly, the world is full of unpredictable turns; those who once thought they were on top are often displaced.
Mammah immediately instructed Kulu and the other housemaids to prepare the guest rooms. Since the guests had arrived early around eleven in the morning, explaining they had taken a direct commercial bus at dawn, a joyful Mammah told them, “Go take a warm bath first, then come have breakfast. Let me wake those children up; they are still in bed because they stayed up late partying last night.”
Gwaggo Khadijah laughed softly and said, “Oh, Maman Ma'aruff, you and this huge crowd of yours! Let them sleep; we aren't leaving today anyway. Besides, there is a naming ceremony event planned for them later.”
“You must have heard they even organized a party! Only Biebah managed to accompany Lailah and the others to the mother's house; they left just a short while ago since they didn't get back until ten last night.”
Gwaggo Alawiyya chimed in, “Wow, may God bless those children. Honestly, Addah, finding in-laws like them is incredibly rare nowadays.”
“Shariffa and the others are far more than just daughters-in-law, Alawiyya; they are my own children. All I can do is keep praying for them, hoping God blesses them with people who will treat them just as well.”
Gwaggo Nanah nodded in agreement. “Yes, keep praying for them, and we will join you. Look at Yaya Babba’s house over there—Haire and her daughters-in-law live in perpetual hostility. Just yesterday, Haƙilu’s wife almost got into a physical fight with Haire over her son. You cannot imagine the absolute disgrace; it's deeply pathetic.”
Mammah smiled, and wanting to steer the conversation away from negativity, she said, “May God guide them. The world has become a scary place, and all we can do is pray. Go ahead and bathe so you can eat, then we can enjoy our chat properly.”
They thanked her, and she stepped out. Every one of them felt a deep affection for her. Badiyya, overwhelmed with shame, kept her head lowered and remained quiet throughout the greeting. Mammah read her body language perfectly and resolved to completely ease her mind, as her ultimate desire was to unite Abdul-rasheed's extended family, not to see them divided.
★ It wasn't until twelve o'clock that Nimrah and the others finally managed to get out of bed, and even then, Mammah had to go upstairs to personally wake them up. They had gone straight back to bed right after dawn prayers (*Subh*). They began throwing playful tantrums, begging her to let them sleep until one o'clock.
“So does this mean you've changed your minds about going to the ceremony house? If I had known, I would have woken you up early to head to Tahafiz (Quranic school). The guests from Bauchi arrived since eleven, and here you are, fast asleep.”
Hearing that the visitors from Bauchi had arrived, they all startled awake in excitement. As they made a mad dash for the door, Mammah stopped them in their tracks. “Look at you, what a dirty bunch! Are you really going to greet them in your pajamas? Without even brushing your teeth? Go back and present yourselves properly; one of you should use Biebah's bathroom to speed things up.”
They happily agreed. Mammah walked back out with a smile. When she returned to the living room where Gwaggo Alawiyya and the others were seated, she found Ma'aruff and the other men had arrived. She had notified them earlier, and they promised to come right over. They arrived carrying heavy shopping bags filled with various treats and snacks, their faces bright with smiles upon seeing their maternal aunts. Badiyya timidly lowered her gaze, but seeing that the young men treated her with the exact same warmth as Mammah without holding any grudges, she relaxed and joined the conversation, exchanging pleasantries and asking about the children. Yaya Ja'afar said, “Come on, Gwaggo, how could you travel all this way by yourselves without bringing any of the children? You know we rarely see each other except during occasions like this.”
“It's because of school, Ja'afar. But God willing, once they are on break, they will come visit. Since you boys completely abandoned us, when was the last time any of you stepped foot in Bauchi, let alone Maiduguri?”
“Even when they do go to Bauchi, we don't get to see them, Adda Khadijah; they restrict their visits to Yaya Jamilu and Adda Alawiyya's houses. I've only seen them twice: during the funeral of my mother-in-law, Inno, and when Ahmadi fell ill.”
"We are at fault, Gwaggo Nanah, please forgive us; we will fix this, God willing. Sometimes, work obligations just pile up. Most of the time, our trips to Bauchi are strictly for business. You can ask Aunty Badiyya; we usually meet Uncle Jamilu at the market, not at home. Even Gwaggo Alawiyya goes long periods without seeing us. Maiduguri is the only place we can confidently say we visit
Uncle Nasiru and Daddy Imran entered the house at almost the same time, as both were returning from their respective workplaces. The new driver, who was sitting with the security guard, watched them closely. He had been at the house for six days now but had never seen Uncle Nasiru; he had only seen Imran once. As for Daddy Imran, he had gone on a short trip shortly after Mammah’s departure; he had seen him just once before that trip and he returned four days later. On the day he returned, he came to the house while the driver was away picking up the children from Islamiyya (Islamic school). Just as the driver’s car drove out, Daddy Imran arrived with them. Since that day, he hadn’t visited again until today. Uncle Nasiru, on the other hand, hadn't checked on the house at all since Mammah traveled because he was overwhelmed with work, and he knew the children rarely stayed home anyway—only Ja'afar's wives were around.
While they were in the middle of exchanging greetings, the security guard finished locking the gate and walked toward them. The driver felt compelled to follow him over to where the men stood. They bowed respectfully to greet them, even though the new driver was roughly the same age as Imran—or perhaps slightly older—despite Imran possessing that robust, militarily disciplined physique of someone who enjoys a comfortable and healthy lifestyle. Uncle Nasiru teased them lightly. Imran, however, fixed his gaze intently on the new driver. Eventually, Uncle Nasiru noticed and asked, “Imran, what is it? Do you know him?”
With a slight smile, Imran shook his head and replied, "No, Uncle. I was just lost in a completely different thought." Without waiting for Uncle Nasiru's response, he turned to the driver and acknowledged his greeting. With that, they left the area, though the driver kept his eyes glued to their backs. Inside his pounding heart, his mind raced with anxious thoughts: *(There is definitely a problem here. Even if that bastard didn't recognize me, he is suspicious of me. I absolutely have to change my tactics. I didn't come all this way just to leave without completing the mission that brought me here).* In reality, however, he simply stood up, walked back to the gate, and sat down on his chair. He then pulled out his small Nokia phone, began scrolling through it, and placed it to his ear..…
★ In the living room, both Imran and Uncle Nasiru were deeply pleased to see how much Mammah’s health had improved. It was apparent she had received much better medical treatment than what was available back home, as this was their very first medical trip to Egypt. Since Nimrah and the others had reluctantly gone to Islamiyya, the house was quiet; they had initially protested going today, wanting to celebrate Mammah's return instead. It wasn't until Yaya Ma'aruff strictly chased them out that they finally left, pouting. Only Biebah was home, having returned from school not long before. Mu'azz had followed Imam to his house.
Mammah looked at Biebah, who was picking sluggishly at her food because she felt unwell, having returned from school with a severe headache. Seeing Mammah had cheered her up slightly, but just like her other siblings, the presence of the stranger in the house weighed heavily on her mind. At that moment, Aunty Momy, Aunty Ummi, and Ammar were in her room, deeply engrossed in a discussion.
“Biebah, stand up and call your Uncle for me.”
Biebah looked up at Mammah, softly replied "Okay," and stood up.
"Are you feeling alright, Biebah?" Imran asked.
Her eyes welled with tears as she replied, “Yaya, my head hurts.”
“Oh, sorry, Auta (the youngest), it must be stress. Go do that quickly, then come back to take some medicine and lie down before the noisy ones return and prevent you from resting.”
She nodded in agreement. Uncle Nasiru also offered his sympathies. She acknowledged them and went to deliver Mammah's message…
It didn't take long before she returned, announcing that he said he was on his way. Instead of sitting back down to eat, she picked up her plate and took it to the kitchen. When she returned holding a cup of water, she tried to head straight to her room. Right at that moment, Uncle Tasi'u entered the living room with a greeting (*Salam*). Everyone answered, looking toward him. Uncle Nasiru immediately stood up, staring at him intently. Imran, however, did not know him personally—he had only heard stories of what happened in the past—so he showed no signs of shock or worry. He simply began offering him a warm welcome. But Uncle Tasi'u failed to respond because his attention was entirely fixed on Uncle Nasiru.
"Tasi'u!" Uncle Nasiru exclaimed in absolute shock and disbelief.
For the first time, Tasi'u lowered his head, his eyes filling with tears. After about five seconds, he looked up again and stepped toward Uncle Nasiru, his legs trembling. As soon as he reached Uncle Nasiru, he collapsed heavily onto his knees. Imran’s eyes widened in shock as he stood up, finally realizing that there was a major issue at hand and that this stranger brought immense emotional weight—after all, he was no child, yet he was kneeling before Uncle Nasiru. Imran looked at Mammah and saw that she, too, had lowered her head, looking as if she was about to cry. He shook his head. In a vulnerable voice, he asked, “Mammah, who is he, for God's sake? I see a resemblance, is he a sibling?”
Mammah looked up at Imran, fighting back the tears filling her eyes. With a faint smile on her face, she answered his question without hesitation. Deep down, she viewed Imran just like Haysam—feeling as though she had carried him in her own womb.
“Imran, Tasi'u is my full biological younger brother. You don't know him because of certain things that happened in the past. But those things are long gone, and I have forgiven him. We crossed paths with him at the hospital, and it has been four days now.”
Imran felt completely stunned, as if rooted to the spot. Uncle Tasi'u’s crying now filled the living room; he held onto Uncle Nasiru's legs, weeping bitterly and begging for forgiveness like a child. Uncle Nasiru stood frozen, utterly speechless, his eyes turning bloodshot.
The sound of Uncle Tasi'u’s weeping brought Aunty Ummi and the others downstairs. Actually, Biebah had gone to call them, having watched everything unfold from her hiding spot. Ammar, who had reached his limit, said angrily, “Honestly, I am completely fed up with this drama.”
Mammah and the others turned to look at them, unaware they had come downstairs. Before anyone else could speak, Aunty Ummi interjected, “You aren't the only one tired of this drama, Ammar; we are too. That is exactly why Yaya Ja'afar and the others left the house, and we were only waiting for Uncle Nasiru's arrival to leave as well. If Mammah possesses a heart full of endless tolerance and patience, we do not. There is no way a snake will bite us from a hole, and then we will stick our foot back into that same hole thinking it won't bite a second time. As the Hausa saying goes, *'Knowing someone's true character is far better than just knowing their face.'* Therefore, Uncle! Yaya! You should either advise him to return to where he came from, or he should find accommodation outside of this house. That is the honest truth.”
As soon as she finished speaking, she turned and left the living room in tears. Ammar and the others followed right behind her. Mammah tried to stop them, but Uncle Nasiru shook his head, signaling her to let them go…
Mammah was forced to keep quiet, and he stood up, saying, “Tasi'u, get up. Let's go over to my house and give them space here for a day or two.”
Neither Tasi'u nor Mammah argued, as they both deeply respected Uncle Nasiru as their eldest brother. After they left, Imran didn't stay much longer either; he headed home with a mind racing with countless unsettling thoughts...…
### **★ PRISON ★**
Upon returning to his cell, he sat on the edge of his bed, watching the soldiers finish mounting a television on the wall. He didn't speak to them; he hadn't even verbally responded to their greetings when he walked in, opting instead to just raise his hand. Once finished, they exited the room, pulling the heavy door shut and locking him in. He closed his eyes, appearing to sleep, but his brilliant mind was actively calculating and assessing everything that had just transpired.
"Facemask Analysis. Camera hidden in the wristwatch," he muttered under his breath with a brief smirk, his eyes remaining closed. In his mind, he meticulously broken down the stranger’s profile with the analytical precision of an expert operative: *(A fake face, a tactical watch, the steady eyes of a cold-hearted man, and an advanced age that indicates decades of survival and struggle. The subtle movement of his pupils reveals he is a highly trained operative. This means he is one of their top ranking officials, not a novice. The threat he uttered... they claim they control the leaders... which implies deep infiltration within the government. This could be the very unit that reports to the Board of Inquiry. He mentioned those close to me. That explains how Imran was able to visit me so easily five years ago, and now they are the ones who orchestrated his suspension. If this is true, then there are eyes surrounding Imran both within the military command and outside of it. Imran could be in constant danger, because even if it costs him his life, he will never back down from a direct confrontation).*
He exhaled a heavy breath and squeezed his eyes shut. Imran was like a piece of his own flesh; hurting Imran was equivalent to tearing down his own resilience.
The third issue was their question: *(Why have they kept me alive until now? This is a question that has long plagued my own mind as well. Surely, if I were in their position, I would eliminate anyone I feared—especially if their existence posed a catastrophic threat to my nation, let alone my personal agenda. Yet, they need me alive. Why?)* He remained silent for a long time, then sat up straight, picked up a pen and paper, and wrote down that exact question:
*"They need me? For what? To watch me? To use me? Or to fear me?"*
He pressed the pen against his lips, which were slightly dry because he was fasting today. The fourth issue: *(The game they claim has begun... does that mean they have a massive operation planned for this period? A new terrorist attack? Or a political coup? But they don't need someone like me to figure out who they are or where the vulnerability lies. Is this a miscalculation on their part, or am I misinterpreting the data?)* He lapsed into silence again, deep in analytical thought.
For a long time, he paced through his thoughts, eventually turning his gaze toward the television that had been installed in his room. For the first time, he stood up, set aside his book and pen, and walked over to the TV. After inspecting every inch of the frame to ensure no hidden cameras were embedded within it, he picked up the remote and began searching through the channels. The stations programmed into the decoder were strictly vetted; there were only three channels available, all displaying nothing but news loops. Even then, the coverage was highly selective—mostly focused on the political campaigns that had begun roughly three months ago. Slowly, his eyes narrowed, and a sharp, cynical smile spread across his face. He placed the remote back exactly where he found it and returned to sit on the edge of the bed.
The detail that bothered him the most replayed vividly in his brain: *(They claim they control the minds of the elites. If that is true, the intelligence Imran brought me regarding the retired General... I must re-analyze it completely. One of them could be pulling the General's strings from the shadows, and that access alone is how they could get to Imran. Based on what they let slip, it is clear that Imran's first and second visits caused serious panic within this sinister organization—which is precisely why they blocked him from coming back).*
He smiled faintly, realizing the most critical piece of the puzzle: they were still absolutely terrified of him. That was why they banned visitors, cut off his communication with the outside world, and isolated him in a cell where he saw no one except the guards who delivered his meals and necessities. He had long realized that the guards wore body cameras that transmitted live feeds of their every entry and exit. The stranger's visit wasn't just to deliver a threat; they wanted to see if his spirit had broken yet. They wanted to see if isolation had shattered him. They wanted to verify if he still possessed that formidable strength they so deeply feared. Ultimately, he found himself looking down on their intelligence. If they truly possessed the absolute power they boasted about, they wouldn't have felt the need to come and tell him face-to-face. No one sends a threat unless they are afraid of the recipient.
He scoffed. This realization fueled his determination, spark of anger, and a renewed drive to finalize his plans. He had to send a message to Imran without a single moment of delay...........✍️
Three days after Mammah’s return, the household welcomed visitors from Bauchi who had traveled down for Aunty Mommy's baby naming ceremony: Gwaggo Khadijah, Gwaggo Alawiyya, and Gwaggo Nanah. They were accompanied by Uncle Jamilu's wife, who was visiting them for the very first time. Ever since the terrible things she had done to Mammah's family years ago, she had felt too deeply ashamed to ever face them. However, she felt genuine remorse in her heart, especially now that Mammah's family practically sustained their livelihood; Ja'afar and the others had generously opened a large boutique for Uncle Jamilu in Bauchi free of charge, which provided their daily sustenance. Furthermore, they had taken full financial responsibility for sending her children to an excellent school. Gwaggo Nanah stood out as an exceptional soul among Inna's children; she had always done her best to support them even during their hardest times, just like Gwaggo Khadijah and Gwaggo Alawiyya did. Her only constraint had been the fear of her older siblings, like Yaya Babba, which used to keep her away from Mammah's house. This time around, her own siblings had turned their backs on her; her husband had abandoned her and disappeared for two years without a trace, and her family refused to help her despite the immense hardship she and her children were facing. With no one to support her except Uncle Jamilu and Gwaggo Khadijah, she resolved to attend this naming ceremony to personally inform Mammah of her plight in hopes of receiving assistance. Uncle Jamilu had even paid for her travel fare.
Mammah was overjoyed to see them. This was especially true for Gwaggo Nanah and Uncle Jamilu's wife, Badiyya, both of whom were acting visibly hesitant, quietly marveling at God's divine justice upon seeing the magnificent home and successful family Mammah possessed today. Truly, the world is full of unpredictable turns; those who once thought they were on top are often displaced.
Mammah immediately instructed Kulu and the other housemaids to prepare the guest rooms. Since the guests had arrived early around eleven in the morning, explaining they had taken a direct commercial bus at dawn, a joyful Mammah told them, “Go take a warm bath first, then come have breakfast. Let me wake those children up; they are still in bed because they stayed up late partying last night.”
Gwaggo Khadijah laughed softly and said, “Oh, Maman Ma'aruff, you and this huge crowd of yours! Let them sleep; we aren't leaving today anyway. Besides, there is a naming ceremony event planned for them later.”
“You must have heard they even organized a party! Only Biebah managed to accompany Lailah and the others to the mother's house; they left just a short while ago since they didn't get back until ten last night.”
Gwaggo Alawiyya chimed in, “Wow, may God bless those children. Honestly, Addah, finding in-laws like them is incredibly rare nowadays.”
“Shariffa and the others are far more than just daughters-in-law, Alawiyya; they are my own children. All I can do is keep praying for them, hoping God blesses them with people who will treat them just as well.”
Gwaggo Nanah nodded in agreement. “Yes, keep praying for them, and we will join you. Look at Yaya Babba’s house over there—Haire and her daughters-in-law live in perpetual hostility. Just yesterday, Haƙilu’s wife almost got into a physical fight with Haire over her son. You cannot imagine the absolute disgrace; it's deeply pathetic.”
Mammah smiled, and wanting to steer the conversation away from negativity, she said, “May God guide them. The world has become a scary place, and all we can do is pray. Go ahead and bathe so you can eat, then we can enjoy our chat properly.”
They thanked her, and she stepped out. Every one of them felt a deep affection for her. Badiyya, overwhelmed with shame, kept her head lowered and remained quiet throughout the greeting. Mammah read her body language perfectly and resolved to completely ease her mind, as her ultimate desire was to unite Abdul-rasheed's extended family, not to see them divided.
★ It wasn't until twelve o'clock that Nimrah and the others finally managed to get out of bed, and even then, Mammah had to go upstairs to personally wake them up. They had gone straight back to bed right after dawn prayers (*Subh*). They began throwing playful tantrums, begging her to let them sleep until one o'clock.
“So does this mean you've changed your minds about going to the ceremony house? If I had known, I would have woken you up early to head to Tahafiz (Quranic school). The guests from Bauchi arrived since eleven, and here you are, fast asleep.”
Hearing that the visitors from Bauchi had arrived, they all startled awake in excitement. As they made a mad dash for the door, Mammah stopped them in their tracks. “Look at you, what a dirty bunch! Are you really going to greet them in your pajamas? Without even brushing your teeth? Go back and present yourselves properly; one of you should use Biebah's bathroom to speed things up.”
They happily agreed. Mammah walked back out with a smile. When she returned to the living room where Gwaggo Alawiyya and the others were seated, she found Ma'aruff and the other men had arrived. She had notified them earlier, and they promised to come right over. They arrived carrying heavy shopping bags filled with various treats and snacks, their faces bright with smiles upon seeing their maternal aunts. Badiyya timidly lowered her gaze, but seeing that the young men treated her with the exact same warmth as Mammah without holding any grudges, she relaxed and joined the conversation, exchanging pleasantries and asking about the children. Yaya Ja'afar said, “Come on, Gwaggo, how could you travel all this way by yourselves without bringing any of the children? You know we rarely see each other except during occasions like this.”
“It's because of school, Ja'afar. But God willing, once they are on break, they will come visit. Since you boys completely abandoned us, when was the last time any of you stepped foot in Bauchi, let alone Maiduguri?”
“Even when they do go to Bauchi, we don't get to see them, Adda Khadijah; they restrict their visits to Yaya Jamilu and Adda Alawiyya's houses. I've only seen them twice: during the funeral of my mother-in-law, Inno, and when Ahmadi fell ill.”
"We are at fault, Gwaggo Nanah, please forgive us; we will fix this, God willing. Sometimes, work obligations just pile up. Most of the time, our trips to Bauchi are strictly for business. You can ask Aunty Badiyya; we usually meet Uncle Jamilu at the market, not at home. Even Gwaggo Alawiyya goes long periods without seeing us. Maiduguri is the only place we can confidently say we visit