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If there was anything that unsettled my mind the most, it was the threat of eviction that Hajiya constantly hung over my head. What truly embittered my soul, however, was how she humiliated me on a daily basis simply because I was beneath her.
Lubna emerged from the kitchen, having finished her duties long ago; after all, her job was strictly confined to cooking. My responsibilities, on the other hand, involved receiving the restaurant's guests, serving their orders, washing the dishes, and sweeping the floors.
“Go handle the dishes, I’ll wipe down the tables,” Lubna said in her characteristically soft voice. Without uttering a word, I dragged myself up with great effort and finished my tasks. I then returned to help her wrap up the final wiping. Once everything was locked down, we set out on the road toward Hajiya's residence. The distance was considerable, forcing us to hasten our pace before the late hours caught up with us. We found Hajiya in the main living room; she had turned the air conditioner to its maximum cooling capacity, yet heavy beads of sweat were still pouring profusely from her skin.
I cast a single, detached glance at her and immediately averted my eyes. Lubna, conversely, rushed to her side, asking frantically, “Hajiya, has the illness flared up again?”
In a voice clearly strained by severe sickness, Hajiya gasped, “My ulcer has violently flared up out of nowhere, leaving only a tiny spark of life in me. Please, give me that medicine—the one you always give me to drink.”
Lubna glanced at me hesitantly before replying, “But Haule is the one who keeps it, not me.”
“Then go collect it from her!”
Hearing this, I quickly bypassed them and retreated to our cramped quarters designated for the domestic servants. Right in the middle of changing out of my work clothes, Lubna bolted into the room holding a cup. “Spit into this quickly so I can take it to her,” she urged.
With burning resentment, I snapped, “I refuse to spit into anything. Is my saliva some kind of joke to you?”
Lubna burst into a fit of laughter, stepping closer to me. “Look at you! Shouldn’t it be a badge of pride that a high-and-mighty woman like Hajiya is forced to drink the saliva of a mere maid? If she only knew what the true ingredients of her miracle cure were, by the Holy Qur'an, she would never swallow a drop, considering how deeply she despises the poor.”
A cold, dark smile crept onto my face. I leaned forward and spat my saliva directly into the cup of water. Instantly, the liquid began to hiss, bubble, and boil violently, gradually shifting into an ominous color.
Lubna raised her eyebrows in awe. “Well, you are the real Hajiya here! But please, for God’s sake, have mercy and stop pushing our boss to the brink of death like this. We don’t want her dying on our watch and leaving us to face criminal charges.”
“Just take it to her and shut up,” I barked, turning around to enter the bathroom for a wash. By the time I emerged, Lubna had brought in our dinner. I let out another cynical smile and noted, “Didn't she explicitly vow that she would never feed me her food again?”
“Well, since she went ahead and served it to you anyway, just swallow your pride and come eat,” Lubna reasoned.
After changing into clean clothes, I sat down beside her. We ate the rice and stew, washing it down with ice-cold water. We lost ourselves in casual chatter until she stood up and said, “Let me go prep tomorrow’s vegetables. Get ready, because the moment I return, you are continuing your story.” I merely smiled, offering no verbal reply.
Just as I was settling down to sleep, Lubna burst back into the room as if she had been violently hurled inside. Alarmed, I asked, “What is wrong with you?”
Terrified, she whispered, “The ultimate king of sour attitudes—Alhaji Maheer—is right out there in the living room with Hajiya! He’s swirling the very cup of water I gave her, demanding to know exactly what kind of medicine she drank that cured her chronic illness in a split second.”
I shrugged, “So? Why are you losing your mind over that?”
Her eyes widened in panic. “Because Hajiya answered him! She told him you are the one who holds the medicine. And wallah...” The rest of her words choked in her throat as the heavy wooden door was violently kicked open with brute force.
The sheer impact made me leap up in shock. As our eyes locked, a sudden, suffocating dread gripped my chest. Yet, I forcefully draped myself in a shroud of false bravery, offering a respectful greeting just as his mother had drilled us to do.
“Good afternoon, Alhaji,” I murmured in a soft, subdued voice, keeping my gaze anchored strictly to the floor.
“Hand over the medicine you dissolved for Mama,” he demanded coldly.
I lied smoothly, “It is completely finished. That was the very last dose.”
“Give me the packaging then.”
“It doesn't have any packaging.”
“Where on earth is medicine sold without a box or label?”
“This isn't commercial medicine; it’s a traditional, spiritual remedy.”
“Then I want to see the plastic bag it was tied in!” he barked, aggressively trying to back me into a corner. I raised my head, locked eyes with him for a fraction of a second, and then looked away. “I threw the plastic away and swept the floor.”
Without uttering another syllable, he spun around fiercely and slammed the door shut behind him with a deafening crash.
“I think I need to head home to our family house for a bit and return later this evening,” Lubna said, looking thoroughly shaken. “This storm hasn't blown over yet, wallah. He is definitely going to come back, and you know how dangerously hot-tempered he is. I hate seeing him in this volatile state; it completely deflates my spirit and makes my knees go weak.”
I sneered derisively. “I honestly don’t understand what you see in that man to fall for him so hard. He’s completely dried up and gaunt, looking like an HIV patient, with giant, protruding eyes like oversized Kuli-Kuli balls. The only decent feature on his entire face is his lips.”
Lubna gave me a playful slap on the back. “Hey, stop that nonsense! How dare you insult the Alhaji like that? And I am not in love with him; he simply fascinates me.” She concluded with a telltale smile that betrayed the true, hidden infatuation of her heart.
I quickly shifted the topic to something else. “When are you moving back here for a few days? God, I am sick and tired of staying in this servant's quarters all alone like a secluded witch.”
Lubna clapped her hands. “Oh, I completely forgot to tell you! Earlier today, right after you left for the restaurant, they brought in a new maid. It looks like she’ll be living here permanently too, since she has no family or connections—just like you.”
“I don’t care about some random stranger. I’m asking about you. When are you coming back? I highly doubt your mother would object, considering Umma is Hajiya’s closest friend.”
“If I go home today, I’ll ask her permission, though it’s highly unlikely she’ll agree. But I’ll try. I’m leaving now, and I’ll be back by evening as usual,” Lubna said. I threw on my hijab to walk her out, even though the distance between Hajiya’s mansion and her family house wasn't far.
The moment we stepped into the grand living room, Maheer’s booming voice intercepted us. He was throwing a massive tantrum, directing absolute fury at his mother regarding the bizarre remedy she had consumed.
The second his eyes landed on me, he sneered, “Next time, if any useless tramp dares to give my mother some demonic Yan Bori cult medicine again, I will personally throw her behind bars! Don’t you ever bring occult charms into this house again. And you, Mama—out of all the real medicine in the world, you choose to swallow raw witchcraft? What on earth is the point of my entire medical degree if you resort to this?”
I ignored him completely. I had long realized he had utterly detested me from the very day I set foot in this house, which was precisely why he rubbed me entirely the wrong way. As we exited the gates, Lubna exhaled a heavy, audible sigh. “Maheer’s future wife has her work cut out for her. How can a single human being harbor that much endless, unyielding rage?”
I countered, “That’s exactly why he’s so gaunt and shriveled; his own toxic anger is literally consuming him from the inside out. May Allah protect you from ever marrying him. A man with that kind of unhinged fury would undoubtedly beat a woman half to death.”
Lubna burst into loud laughter. “My friend, you amuse me so much! You literally act like a sibling to the jinns. But let me break the news to you: just yesterday, he gave his girlfriend a brutal, merciless beating because he caught her casually chatting with one of her male classmates. I overheard Hajiya pleading with the girlfriend's mother, apologizing and explaining that Maheer inherits a cursed, untamable temper that completely robs him of self-control.”
An inexplicable, cold weight suddenly dropped into the pit of my stomach, leaving me deeply unsettled. Straining my voice, I asked, “A girlfriend? He actually has a girlfriend?”
“Listen to you! Do you honestly think a man of Maheer’s caliber would lack women? Ha! Let me tell you, the man is a chronic womanizer behind that rigid facade. From what I’ve heard Ummah discuss, his trail of women is endless. You’ll see him with one girl today, and within two days, he’s discarded her for another.”
With a sudden surge of bitter resentment, I muttered, “But he doesn't look like a womanizer at all. He barely even deigns to glance at women. The only time he fixes his eyes on you is when his demonic mischief flares up, purely to terrorize you with those massive eyes that look like they belong to a newborn jinn infant.”
Lubna chuckled. “You need to prepare yourself. One of these days, we’ll visit the hospital where he works, and you’ll see how women dress up to the nines just to catch his attention—and wallah, that includes married women too.”
I fell entirely silent, refusing to offer another word as we hurried along the path. My silence wasn't peaceful; my heart was pounding violently, burning with a strange, agonizing heat. I had never felt such an intense, unprovoked hatred for him as I did today. Like two mutes, we walked in absolute silence until we arrived at Lubna’s family house.
In the center of the courtyard, we found her mother, Ummah, sorting through beans. After exchanging mandatory greetings, we bypassed her and went inside. I immediately threw my body onto the mattress spread across the floor, lying completely still as Lubna’s words began to crash violently against the walls of my brain.
“Let me take a quick shower. Look, there’s some tamarind pap (Kunun Tsamiya) over there, pour yourself a cup and drink,” she called out before exiting. When she returned, she found me in the exact same frozen posture.
Astonished, she asked, “You didn't touch the pap?”
I wrinkled my nose in disgust. “I have no appetite for it.”
She shrugged. “Honestly, you are just as unpredictable and enigmatic as Maheer; nobody can ever read your mind. Just continue your story from earlier.”
I took a long, heavy breath. “I’ll tell you the story as we walk back to Hajiya’s mansion.”
“No, start right now!” she insisted, adjusting her seating position.
I cleared my throat. “On that fateful night, the moment our stepmother, Goggo Lami, lowered her guard and fell asleep, Hassana and I crept into the shadows. We searched through the untouched belongings of our deceased sister, Husseina—possessions that hadn’t been moved an inch since her passing. The clothes she died in consisted of a long Atamfa gown. She had been fiercely obsessed with that dress, wearing it constantly, which was why her memory remained so vividly etched in our minds. Right there in Hassana's room, I slipped her dead dress over my body, layering my own clothes over it, and concealed everything beneath my long hijab. We walked out into the open courtyard acting as if nothing had happened, sitting among our relatives to eat dinner. Everyone dispersed early because the atmosphere was devoid of joy, drowned in the ongoing mourning of Haidar’s sudden death.
When I finally retreated to my room, I didn't bother detaching my hijab; I went to sleep fully wrapped in it. It wasn't long before deep slumber claimed me. In the dead of night, I felt a violent pounding on the door accompanied by a hollow voice chanting my name. I snapped my eyes open, and there she was—Husseina stood before me, draped entirely in her burial shroud (likafani). Her eyes were weeping thick streams of pure blood as she stared directly into my soul. Before she vanished into thin air without uttering a word...”
Lubna sharply interrupted me, terrified. “Wait, you saw her in reality? With your bare physical eyes?”
I glared at her. “You really don't know how to let a blind woman finish her meal! Just let me tell the story.”
“Fine, I’ll shut up,” she whispered, pulling her knees close.
I continued, “That was the exact moment I jolted awake, realizing it was an intense nightmare. But such a phenomenon had never happened to me until the very night I wore her dead clothes. A paralyzing, cosmic terror gripped my soul, completely robbing me of sleep. The moment I closed my eyelids, I would see Husseina standing directly at the foot of my bed, draped in her white shroud. Terrified of the dark, I switched on the electric bulb. As light flooded the room, I saw our biological mother, Innarmu, sitting in the center of the bed. She had her head buried deeply in her palms, weeping so silently yet profusely that tears were streaming down her face like an open water pump. I crept closer to her and whispered, ‘Innarmu, why are you crying? Please stop, for God’s sake; your tears shatter my heart.’ I don’t know what cosmic force gripped our mother in that exact hour, but she suddenly reached out, pulled me violently into her arms, and wept against my chest, whispering, ‘Haule, I desperately want to banish you from this cursed household, but I lack the strength and the spiritual authority to do so. I know it... I know you are the next target.’
I asked her, ‘The next target for what? Innarmu, what on earth are you trying to hide from me?’ I was barely twelve years old at the time, yet I instantly sensed that our mother was guarding a terrifying, ancient secret from me.”
Reaching this part of the recollection, I abruptly fell silent, aggressively wiping away the fresh tears that blurred my vision as a wave of intense homesickness and longing for my deceased mother pierced through my chest. I stood up abruptly. “I’m heading back. You can join me whenever you're ready.”
“Wait for me to throw on some clothes so we can walk back together,” Lubna said, her own eyes completely bloodshot with raw emotion. Once she prepared herself, we bid farewell to Ummah and marched back to Hajiya’s mansion—only to step directly into a brand-new, terrifying scene of horror.
Maheer was stretched out flat in the center of the living room, his entire body stiffened, rigid, and completely paralyzed like a fresh corpse, while two panicked medical doctors hovered frantically over his head. Lubna and I locked eyes instantly. We didn't need a medical diagnosis; we already knew exactly what supernatural force had struck him down—and we knew the exact, twisted remedy required to bring him back to life...
BLACK SOUL (BAƘIN RUHI) 🧌 🐲
A Story of Love and Horror 👽
BY: Chamsiya Laouali Rabo {MRS SADAUKI 💫 ✍️}
DEDICATION: To all our biological MOTHERS who stand as an unyielding shield to protect us from every forces seeking to destroy our lives.
SECTION 03
From where I stood, Maheer and I were locked in a silent, psychic battle of gazes. His eyes bore into mine with an intense clarity that signaled one undeniable truth: he knew exactly what I was. As he swiveled his bloodshot eyes, I could perfectly interpret the thoughts swirling inside his brain; he was communicating through a silent language of the gaze, yet his words echoed as clearly in my head as if his physical mouth were speaking.
“Come forward and extract this cursed seed of your witchcraft that you have driven into my flesh. If my death is the ultimate source of your joy, then go ahead—keep tearing away at my life force which you currently hold captive in your hands.”
I slowly lowered my eyelids after receiving the silent transmission from his eyes. Instead of offering him a direct answer or addressing the supernatural remedy for his paralysis, I fired back with my own silent, probing question through the gaze: “Who on earth are you? And how can you communicate through the eyes?” He stubbornly refused to answer, abruptly averting his gaze to the side.
“Don’t tell me my suspicions are true... are you really the one who cast a spell to put him in this horrific state?” Lubna whispered frantically, pressing her lips directly against my ear.
“Go grab a cup of water and meet me in the servant's quarters,” was all I muttered before turning on my heel and walking away. Within seconds, she slid into the room. I took the cup from her hands, staring intently into the clear water for a few silent beats before leaning down and spitting my saliva into it. Instantly, the water began to boil violently, changing into a dark, murky hue. I spat a second time, swirling the liquid, and handed the cup back to her.
I exhaled a long sigh, feeling an unexpected wave of heavy guilt over how much he had suffered on my account—even though I inherently despised using these dark, supernatural forces to harm the people who crossed me.
A wry smile escaped my lips as I mused aloud, “Who is he really? How is a mortal man capable of speaking through his eyes?” Before I could unravel the mystery, Lubna bolted back into the room, staring at me with wide, unreadable eyes. “You need to get out there right now. They want to speak with you.”
“Who?” I asked.
“The elite medical doctors who failed to cure him! The second I gave him that water to drink, he broke out of his paralysis, stood up completely cured, and sat firmly on his feet. Now they are desperate to know the scientific name of the medicinal herb you used.”
I could do nothing but stare at her in absolute silence. Before I could process the danger, Hajiya stepped into our quarters, her face illuminated by a wide, ecstatic grin. She grabbed my hand firmly. “Come along, young girl! You have officially become a celebrity overnight! The most brilliant medical minds couldn't cure Maheer’s mysterious paralysis, yet your traditional village medicine restored him instantly. You should have seen me—I literally ran out into the streets screaming for a taxi, completely forgetting I have luxury cars parked in the driveway. The moment I returned, they told me you were the savior who brought the cure.” She chattered endlessly, dragging me by the wrist back into the grand living room.
My heart began to thud violently against my ribs. Standing before me were two of the most celebrated, elite medical doctors in the country—men whose faces regularly graced national television networks. They adjusted their seating positions, leaning forward in anticipation of my answer. Meanwhile, the arrogant prince himself sat there with a fiercely scowling face, acting as though he hadn't just consumed a fresh dose of my saliva.
“Here she is! This is our miracle healer!” Hajiya announced proudly with a wide grin, gently nudging my shoulder. “Go on, greet them.”
Flustered and panicked, I stammered, “Good afternoon, sirs.” They responded almost in unison with warm, respectful tones. One of the doctors let out a soft smile, scanning my features carefully. “Hajiya, isn’t this the very girl I frequently spot working over at your restaurant?”
“Yes, she is! She is one of our primary workers managing the floor,” Hajiya beamed.
“Well, our young traditional doctor, we are highly eager to inspect this miracle remedy of yours,” the doctor added playfully.
I cast a frantic glance at Hajiya before shifting my eyes to Maheer. I could feel his piercing gaze burning into my skin.
“Yes, please let us see it,” the second doctor chimed in.
Suddenly, I felt the skin of my right palm begin to tighten and contract completely on its own. Simultaneously, a ghostly echo of Maheer’s voice vibrated inside my eardrums, chanting strange, esoteric incantations in a foreign tongue, followed by sharp English. I stared at him in utter shock; his physical body sat perfectly still, showing absolutely no sign of movement, yet the projection of his voice was undeniable—and I was certain I was the only entity in that room capable of hearing it.
Within a split second, I felt a solid object manifest out of thin air, tightly enclosed within my clenched fist. I raised my hand and slowly peeled my fingers open. Resting in the center of my palm was a brilliant, otherworldly green flower that radiated a blinding, supernatural luminescence.
“Wow!” the first doctor gasped, instantly lunging forward to pluck the glowing flower from my palm. “This is a Floris blossom! Dr. Mahmud, do you remember when Dr. Maheer once insisted to us that this rare blossom possessed universal healing properties for every known disease? We completely laughed it off as a myth back then.”
“Yes, vividly! But Umar... don’t you think this borders on the supernatural? On pure occultism?”
“That is quite enough nonsense, for God's sake! Hand her back her flower and let her leave. You two are standing there chattering as if this is your first time witnessing an anomaly,” Maheer barked, his booming voice cutting through the air. The doctors burst into loud laughter, playfully teasing him about his sour mood. Dr. Mahmud stepped forward and handed the glowing flower back to me. I stole one final, fearful glance at Maheer before snatching it.
I literally stumbled over my own feet as I fled the living room. The moment I slammed our bedroom door shut, I let out a jagged breath. I had never felt such a profound, cosmic terror toward Maheer until this very moment; his spiritual aura and commanding presence had completely magnified in my eyes.
Finding the bedroom empty, I hurried to the kitchen, accurately guessing Lubna would be there—though not before I carefully concealed the glowing Floris flower deep within my clothes. I found her aggressively pounding tomorrow’s tuwo ingredients. I quietly picked up a knife and began chopping onions beside her, maintaining absolute silence. She deliberately ignored my presence, loudly chanting local songs filled with pointed, cutting innuendos aimed directly at me.
I let out a soft chuckle. “Are you seriously not going to ask me how I managed to escape that cross-examination?”
Without deigning to look at me, she snapped, “Why should I ask? I already know a literal jinn-woman like you would never fail to conjure an escape route.”
“Oh, so I’m a jinn now? Not even human?” I laughed.
She countered, “Who knows? Perhaps you are, since no mortal soul knows what dark forces you harbor in your shadows.”
“But do you have any idea how deeply terrified I was?” I asked, pausing the knife.
She sneered, “The only thing you fear isn't Maheer; it’s his elite friends.”
“Do you honestly think you know everything about him? How on earth do you know who his friends are?” Before she could answer, Hajiya swept into the kitchen, a young, unfamiliar teenage girl trailing timidly in her shadow.
“Lubna, I’ve brought you a new little sister to help with the load. She will assist with the chores, so I want you to train her thoroughly on how we run things. I am planning to expand our restaurant menu with a long list of brand-new delicacies soon.”
The girl offered us a highly respectful, submissive greeting. Though she looked slightly younger than me, she wasn't a child. Lubna asked, “What is your name?”
“Aliya,” the girl replied.
Our eyes locked for a brief, tense second. Noticing the sudden friction, Hajiya barked, “What is it now? What’s with the faces?”
“Nothing at all,” we chorused quickly.
As Hajiya reached the kitchen threshold, she spun around and commanded, “Haule, brew a fresh pot of tea for Alhaji Maheer and deliver it straight to his private bedroom. Make sure you heavy-load it with ginger and fresh lime juice.”
“Which Alhaji?” I blurted out in sudden panic, nearly dropping the knife from my hand. Hajiya’s face twisted into a dark, menacing scowl. “How many Alhajis do we have living under this roof, girl?”
I swallowed hard, my throat completely dry. “Just one.” She huffed and walked out. My hands began to tremble violently as I placed the pot over the gas stove to brew the tea. While it was true that I was always the one who prepared his daily tea, I had never once set foot inside his private bedroom; I had always left the tray safely on the grand dining table.
The kitchen plunged into an uncomfortable silence, save for Lubna’s occasional murmurs as she demonstrated the kitchen layout to Aliya. The moment the tea finished boiling, I transferred it into a premium flask, arranging the matching teacups on a serving tray. I cast a desperate, pleading look at Lubna, praying she would intervene and offer to deliver it instead, but she looked away.
From the very first step I took up the grand staircase leading to his private quarters, my entire body began to shake uncontrollably. The intense tremors caused the porcelain cups to rattle violently against the tray, emitting a sharp, metallic clinking sound.
Reaching his heavy bedroom door, I froze. I stood there for two full minutes, paralyzed by fear, before my trembling finger finally pressed the electronic buzzer to request entry. To my horror, the heavy door clicked and swung open completely on its own. A blast of freezing air-conditioned wind rushed out, carrying an intoxicating, dangerously sweet luxury fragrance.
Keeping my head bowed strictly toward my chest, I murmured the mandatory Islamic greeting in a voice that barely left my throat.
“If you dare spill a single drop of that boiling water on me, I will give you a beating far more brutal than the rumors you’ve been whispering about,” his voice sliced through the silence. I snapped my head up in shock, only to realize I was already standing inches away from him. My hands shaking violently, I hastily lowered the tray onto the polished vanity table centered between the lavish leather lounge chairs.
The moment I turned around to flee, the heavy door slammed shut and locked entirely on its own. I spun back around in absolute panic, my voice cracking as I gasped, “Hajiya commanded me to bring your tea... it is right there. I am leaving now.”
A dark, mocking smile spread across his handsome features. He casually picked up a porcelain cup and began pouring the steaming liquid. Once finished, he picked up a second cup and filled it to the brim, while I stood there frozen, watching his every move like a trapped animal.
He raised his cup, took a slow, deliberate sip, and then fixed his piercing gaze directly onto my face. “Pick up the other cup and drink it.” I didn't move an inch. His eyes darkened as he added a deadly warning: “If you do not swallow that tea this very second, you will spend the entire night locked inside this bedroom.”
Before the final threat could even leave his lips, I snatched the cup and began gulping down the burning liquid furiously, ignoring the searing heat scorching my tongue. The exact moment I swallowed the last drop, the heavy lock clicked and the door swung open on its own. I spun around and bolted out of the room at full speed, genuinely terrified that if I hesitated for a single microsecond, the supernatural room would seal me inside forever.
The moment I crossed the threshold into the hallway, it felt as though I had escaped the literal fires of hell and stepped into paradise. I sprinted back to the safety of the kitchen, drowning myself in the chores until the call to prayer echoed through the compound.
Even after completing my prayers, I refused to leave the servant's quarters. I isolated myself in our room, mentally preparing for tomorrow—a day I would spend entirely on my feet serving endless streams of restaurant customers. It wasn't until the Isha night prayers concluded that I finally ventured out to the secondary domestic kitchen where the family’s daily meals were prepared. I began transferring the premium food warmers to the grand dining table. Once completed, I fetched our servants' portion, which had been served in a significantly larger bowl today—presumably due to Aliya’s arrival.
When I walked back into our quarters, I found Lubna and Aliya already inside. Lubna took a shower first, followed by Aliya. I transferred the rice and stew into a large, communal plastic platter, and the three of us dug in.
However, as we ate, I noticed a deeply unsettling pattern: Aliya was doing absolutely nothing except stealing sharp, calculated side-glances at me. I tried to ignore it at first, but the sheer intensity of her gaze began to make my skin crawl.
Annoyed, I turned to Lubna and said, “Lubna, your new little sister won't stop staring at me. Why don't you ask her if she thinks I’m some kind of model?”
Lubna let out a faint smile and nudged the girl. “Hey, Aliya, she caught you staring. What’s the issue?”
Instead of averting her eyes or looking ashamed, Aliya leaned forward, locking her gaze directly into the depths of my soul. Her voice was flat and chilling as she stated, “I am staring because she is dangerously ill.”
Taken aback, I snapped, “Who on earth told you I was sick?”
A slow, terrifying smile spread across Aliya’s face. She whispered, “I don’t need to be told. The dark venom of a cosmic serpent is currently coursing through your entire bloodstream.”
The words froze the food in my throat. Before I could utter a sound, Lubna aggressively intervened, “What kind of twisted nonsense is that? How dare you claim venom is flowing inside her body? How could you possibly know something like that? Shut your mouth right now before someone overhears you and brands you a witch! Because honestly, unless you possess a demonic spirit, no mortal human can see what is hidden inside a person's bone marrow!”
Just as Lubna shouted those words, Aliya reached out with lightning speed and pressed her bare palm flat against my forehead.
Instantly, a violent spasm racked my entire body. A thick, pitch-black, supernatural fluid began to spew uncontrollably from my mouth and nose. It felt as though my absolute life force was being violently ripped from my chest, and I collapsed to the floor, drowning in the black bile, hovering on the absolute precipice of death...
2. Comprehensive Summary
This chapter plunges into a dark, supernatural conflict within a wealthy household, balancing domestic servitude with cosmic horror. The protagonist, Haule, is a young maid trapped in a cycle of humiliation and forced labor under the tyrannical rule of her employer, Hajiya. Haule holds a terrifying secret: she possesses supernatural occult abilities, notably curing Hajiya's chronic ulcer flares by spitting her magically potent saliva into her drinks—a remedy orchestrated alongside her coworker and confidante, Lubna.
The narrative shifts gears dramatically with the arrival of Hajiya's son, Alhaji Maheer, an elite medical doctor with a notoriously violent temper and a dark aura. Suspicious of his mother's instantaneous recovery, Maheer confronts Haule in a terrifying bedroom standoff, forcing her to consume a matching dose of the remedy. In a silent, psychic battle of the gaze, Maheer communicates telepathically with Haule, revealing that he knows her occult identity and accusing her of causing his sudden body paralysis. Through spoken foreign incantations, Maheer forces an otherworldly, luminescent Floris flower to manifest directly inside Haule’s palm to prove her abilities to his elite medical colleagues, masking the supernatural anomaly as traditional herbalism.
The plot thickens with the arrival of a mysterious new maid, Aliya. During a nightly gathering in the servants' quarters, Aliya exposes her own supernatural sight, bypassing Haule's defenses and declaring that "the dark venom of a cosmic serpent" is coursing through Haule's veins. The chapter culminates in a visceral body-horror climax when Aliya touches Haule’s forehead, causing her to violently spew a pitch-black occult fluid from her nose and mouth, leaving her dying on the floor. Interwoven with this horror is Haule’s retrospective tale to Lubna about her childhood at age twelve, where she wore the burial clothes of her deceased sister, Husseina, triggering terrifying nightmares and revealing a maternal prophecy that Haule was the "next target" of an ancient family curse.
3. Structural & Analytical Breakdown
Cultural & Supernatural Themes
- The Yan Bori & Occult Class Dynamics: The text brilliantly juxtaposes traditional Hausa occultism (Yan Bori / witchcraft) against Western elitism. Maheer, an elite doctor, views his mother's reliance on traditional remedies as an insult to his medical degree and brands it as low-class "witchcraft." Yet, the text reveals an irony: the elite class secretly relies on the supernatural labor of the impoverished underclass to survive.
- The Corporealization of Dread: The author heavily relies on body horror and somatic reactions to convey terror. The boiling and color-shifting of saliva, Maheer’s telepathic eye contact, the physical manifestation of the glowing Floris flower in a closed palm, and the climactic vomiting of black fluid all serve to ground cosmic horror in visceral, human biology.
The Inherited Generational Curse: Through Haule’s flashbacks, the narrative establishes a gothic hereditary curse. The act of wearing a dead sibling's clothes triggers a bridge to the afterlife, and the biological mother's warning that Haule is the "next target" reveals that her current occult suffering is tied to an ancient ancestral debt.
Narrative Techniques
- Telepathic Dialogue (Maganar Ido): The author utilizes a unique structural device where Maheer and Haule hold entire conversations purely through their eyes. This technique establishes that both characters operate on a higher spiritual plane than the ordinary humans around them (Lubna and Hajiya).
- The Controlled Environment as a Trap: The setting of Maheer’s bedroom functions as a gothic chamber. The self-opening and self-locking doors, the freezing wind, and the overwhelming, intoxicating luxury scent create a claustrophobic space where the protagonist’s survival instincts are pushed to the brink.
Juxtaposition of the Mundane and the Macabre: The narrative expertly flows from ordinary household chores (washing restaurant dishes, chopping onions, cooking tuwo, and discussing office gossip) to sudden explosions of supernatural warfare, maximizing the jarring impact of the horror elements.
4. Character Profiles
Haule (The Protagonist)
- Role: The Occult Servant / Vessel of Venom
Profile: A twelve-year-old orphan turned domestic maid, Haule is a deeply embittered, resilient girl who harbors dark, supernatural abilities inherited from her maternal lineage. She uses her magically altered saliva to cure her abusive employer, navigating her low-class status with cold, silent defiance. She possesses sharp observation skills, openly mocking Maheer's gaunt appearance while secretly harboring a profound terror of his spiritual power. Her body acts as a host to a cosmic entity, which is violently unlocked at the end of the chapter.
Alhaji Maheer
- Role: The Tyrannical Doctor / Sorcerer Prince
Profile: Hajiya’s son, an elite medical doctor characterized by a shriveled, gaunt physique, piercing "jinn-like" eyes, and a dangerously explosive, unhinged temper. He is highly abusive, possessing a reputation for mercilessly beating women. Maheer is not a normal human; he possesses powerful telepathic abilities, can chant incantations in unknown languages, and commands domestic spaces telekinetically. He views Haule with intense hatred and suspicion, recognizing her as an occult equal and rival.
Lubna
- Role: The Confidante / The Normative Foil
Profile: Haule's coworker and closest friend in the household. Lubna handles the cooking and acts as the grounded, ordinary human voice in the narrative. She is deeply infatuated with Maheer's elite status and good looks, constantly excusing his violent behavior. While she is aware of Haule's strange remedies and jokingly calls her a jinn, she lacks true spiritual sight and is utterly terrified when real supernatural warfare breaks out.
Aliya
- Role: The Seer / The Catalyst
- Profile: A newly hired teenage maid brought into the household under the guise of an impoverished orphan. Aliya is a highly dangerous, undercover spiritual entity. She possesses advanced occult sight, capable of seeing through Haule's human facade into her very bone marrow to detect "cosmic serpent venom." She acts with terrifying speed and precision, using physical touch to trigger a violent, near-fatal exorcism or activation within Haule.
