Nida Ya Ahmad Book Completed

Description

[Part 1: Abuja]

Luxury cars moved slowly down the street, their sirens cutting through the line leading toward Gwarinpa in Abuja. From the look of the vehicles, you could tell it wasn't an ordinary person being escorted home. They began entering an estate one by one. At the first gate, four cars stopped. Another car, faster than a mini-van—a Mercedes-Benz E-Class—continued through to the second gate and parked in the parking lot. A soldier got out, opened the back door, and took about 10 minutes before stepping out, his boots clad in military gear, his eyes half-closed due to his long eyelashes.

Immediately, the soldier saluted him while trying to take the briefcase from his hand. He slowly raised his hand with its long, slender fingers and said, "Just leave it." Unless you were close, you wouldn't even think he was the one who spoke. Even though he had already left, the soldier saluted him directly as he headed down the corridor leading to his apartment.

He was surprised to find the door locked because he didn't know Lubna was coming there. He rang the bell while pulling a short hiss, causing his dimples to appear. He turned slightly, waiting for the door to be opened.

Slowly, she opened the door, looking at his back, and her body began to shake. Realizing she could make a mistake, she said, "S...i...r," her voice cracking.

He slowly turned around, looked at her once, and looked away. She was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and a short skirt—it was Precious. She forced herself to say, "Welcome, sir..."

Without answering her, he said, "Give me the way." She quickly stepped aside and handed him the briefcase, as that was part of her duties.

Stepping into the parlor, a cool breeze immediately washed over him, causing him to close his eyes for a second before opening them and fixing his gaze on the parlor, neatly lined with light green and orange decor. He walked straight to the fridge, opened it, poured a bottle of water into a cup, raised it to his pink lips, and drank it all down without stopping before placing the cup aside. He ran his hand through his hair, messing up the smooth locks on his head, and blew a hot breath from his mouth.

Right at that moment, Precious stepped out timidly and asked, "Can I help?" Giving her a brief, dismissive look, he said, "Get lost." As she hurried to leave, he asked, "Where is Lubna?" "She is in her bedroom. She told me that nobody should wake her up until she wakes by herself, that is..." "Shut up!" he barked at her. Seeing that, she fled the area quickly because she was terribly afraid of him.

He bit his lower lip, feeling the sense of pride typical of Lubna—that she would issue such a command knowing very well he was returning today, yet she managed to find time to sleep. He hissed lightly and left the area, sitting on the sofa to remove his shoes and clothes before heading to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and spent nearly 30 minutes bathing before coming out wrapped in a towel, with another in his hand to dry his head and neck, spraying his body with perfume.

Without putting on clothes, wrapped only in a towel, he left the room and headed to the part where Nabla was. Wow, I thought, seeing the beauty of the parlor; the room's decor was ash and black, and a sweet fragrance filled the air. He walked straight to the bedroom. She was lying down soundly, breathing softly, wearing a tiny little top with no sleeves that exposed her breasts, along with a very short pair of shorts.

Immediately, his blue eyes turned olly-eyes, and he bit his lower lip (General has brought trouble). He hurried over, climbed onto the bed, and without hesitation, pulled her against his body. Since Lubna was deep in sleep, he went ahead and removed her clothes without her even realizing what was happening.

He uncovered her medium-sized boobs—not too big, not too small. He placed his pink lips on her nipple, rolling it slowly as if massaging the spot, before taking the nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. With his other hand, he caressed her slowly. Still half-asleep, she felt this strange sensation visiting her, adjusted her posture, and pressed her body forward, thinking she was dreaming.

Realizing it was becoming too intense for her, she opened her eyes. Seeing a man lying there, she opened her mouth to speak, but he quickly rolled over and crashed their lips together. She had to surrender because she knew everything would happen today whether she liked it or not, and she wouldn't have peace.

He took a long time doing the same thing until Lubna went from feeling pleasure to crying, failing to understand what kind of husband Allah had paired her with—one who never tired of the same thing. Only when he felt satisfied did he move to the side, catching his breath.

She burst into tears, even kicking her legs because she knew if she didn't act this way, he would consume her for nothing, and she would also deal with Precious for failing to come and tell her that her oga had returned.

He closed his blue eyes, which had returned to normal because he was satisfied, feeling her crying echoing in his brain. He slowly pulled her onto his chest and said, "Please stop this crying. Tell me what you want me to do so you'll stop."

Without shame or fear of God, and wearing a smile, she stroked the hair lying flat on his chest and said, "Uhm, check my account, my soja." He knew this would happen. He knew he wouldn't just take his rights without paying up. "Okay," he said softly.

Together, they took a bath, dressed, and went downstairs. They headed straight to the dining table where she served him herself. He ate only a little, stood up, and said, "I'm going to sleep. I don't want any distractions." With that, he left.

She curled her lip because she knew his ways. She walked over to the landline, dialed, and when it was answered, she said softly, "Meet me in my parlor." "Ok ma'a," the caller replied and hung up.

She returned to her parlor and sat down to resume her second business (sleep comes first, now we've got movies 😅).

Slowly and fearfully, she entered the room, turned on the light, and said timidly, "Ma'a, I'm here!" It took almost two minutes before Lubna said, "What came over you that made you refuse to come and wake me up when you knew my man was back?" "But, ma'a, you're the one who said I shouldn't wake you up!" "Because you mad crazy monkey, did I say without him?" "Pero, ma'a, if I'm right, right here! You said that everybody, even oga is..." Before she could finish her sentence, she felt a resounding slap across her face that almost knocked her down.

Furious, Lubna said, "I'm your mate? How dare you talk back while I'm talking!" Pointing at herself, she asked, "Between me and you, who is the boss?" With shaking hands, she replied, "You're the boss, ma'a." Not stopping there, Lubna said, "Please, ma'a, I'm sorry. I won't do it again. For the sake of Allah, forgive me."

Lubna sat back down, fuming, and said, "As from today, even if Teema talks to you and you talk to her anyhow, uhm..." She tapped her head. "It's me and you, clear?" She even held her ears in submission. "Yes, ma'a." "Oya, get lost!"

She hurried out of the parlor because she was terrified of Lubna, knowing she was capable of doing much worse.

(If I don't see more than 1,000 followers and comments, I won't finish the story of me and Ya Ahmad. It is not guaranteed 🤨) Vote, Share, Comment, AR needed. Asmaluv Forever.

[Part 2: Zariya]

"Gwaggo, I'm going out. I'll drop Ameena at her friend's house and return immediately." "Safe journey," Gwaggo replied, continuing with her chores.

Hearing that, I set out and left. Instead of going to Ameena's house, I took the path leading out of our neighborhood street. I headed straight toward a parked car on the side where no adults were around, only small children playing. Before I reached it, the person inside opened the door, having apparently spotted my approach through the mirror.

Slowly, I got into the car, silently praying to Allah that Muna's sniffing eyes wouldn't catch me.

His eyes fixed on me. In his mind, he was calculating the day he would fulfill his desires regarding me.

"This staring, Najib! I told you staring is bad in religion, but even now when we're together, you have no other job than staring at me. Let me ask you, what on earth are you looking at on my body?" I spoke as if I didn't care about my question, because honestly, that was the absolute truth—I didn't know what he found so fascinating about my body.

He smiled, shaking his head at my foolishness and innocence. Even though he knew I went to school, he sometimes called me illiterate. Yet, he insisted he would triumph over me since I knew nothing about life.

He reached out his hand to hold mine. Quickly, I pulled my hand back, shooting him a glare. "Apologies, my baby. I forgot you said that's also haram. Anyway, let's go now so you can change your clothes and we proceed from there, right?"

I slammed the car door shut and slightly shook my head. He parked right in front of a shopping mall.

There, I picked out a shirt and trousers; the shirt reached just above my waist—the outfit was nice and quite flashy. I changed into the clothes there and applied a light make-up over my pretty face, the kind that steals men's sanity in a split second, even though I was just a young girl of 15 at the time.

He paid the bill, and we came out. He started biting his lower lip so hard that I couldn't remain silent.

"Ya Najib, are you okay? I notice from time to time you bite your lip like someone being pricked, or are you sick?" In his heart, he thought, You're the one causing me this pain, but out loud, he said, "Nothing, let's go."

We got into the car and headed to the hotel where his friend's birthday party was being held.

Inside the car before we got out, he looked at me, squared his face, and said, "Baby, do you know I have to hold your hand?" "No way, wallahi, Ya Najib! I told you Gwaggo said it's bad, so I won't do it." "Okay, then let's go back and I'll drop you home," he said, pretending to start the car.

Quickly, I turned to him and flashed my olly-eyes that scrambled his senses. "Oh, fine! But when we get in, you must behave."

He held my hand. Anyone who saw us would think we were a couple, because honestly, Najib was top-guy material. Even at the dance floor, Najib tried to hold my waist. Though I didn't want it, dancing was the reason I came, so I endured it until the party ended.

By then, it was almost 7:00 PM. Immediately, my body began to shake as I remembered that Ya Abbakar had returned home. Even inside the car on our way back, I stopped talking; all I could do was roll my eyes in panic.

We stopped somewhere so I could change back into my regular clothes before he dropped me off at the entrance of our street. I walked fast, even though walking fast wasn't my thing.

Right from the gate, I spotted Ya Abbakar's motorcycle. My stomach twisted instantly. Before I even knew it, urine slipped down inside my clothes, even before I laid eyes on him.

With a weak body, I pushed the door open and stepped in. We collided head-on. A sharp pain struck my forehead, causing me to let out an orphan's cry. Before I could recover, two knocks landed on my head consecutively.

"Oh, my God!" I cried, holding my head. I didn't know when I blurted out, "Ya, please forgive me! Wallahi, I was just at Ameena's house, please don't beat me!"

"Shiiiii," he went, letting out a terrifying roar that rattled my senses. "Let me swear by Allah, if I go to that house tomorrow and they tell me you went out, wallahi, wallahi, wallahi, you will wish you never knew me in your life!"

With that final warning, he left me nodding my head like a lizard.

"Alhamdulillah," I whispered, letting out a hot sigh of relief. "Wicked monster, may Allah judge you for the torment you put me through."

Since there was no one in the courtyard, I went straight to our room. Right from the doorway, I started stripping off my clothes until I was left with just a shirt and pant. I grabbed a towel, wrapped it around myself, took off the shirt, and went into the bathroom to take a bath and perform ablution.

By the time I finished, Ummita had entered, carrying a food flask. "When did you get back?" she asked.

Without even looking at her, I put on a shirt and hijab and stood up for prayer. I prayed Asr and Maghrib, offered my supplications, and started reading the Qur'an—when it came to that, I never played games. I didn't leave my spot until I prayed Isha, then I stood up, removed my hijab and long gown, and put on my nightwear.

We started eating our food. "Ummita, what happened? Oh sorry, sis, when you saw me ignore you earlier, it's because I met my hero, that's why. Forgive me."

She curled her lip. Since I wanted to ask her something, I said, "When I went out earlier, did anyone come looking for me?" "No. But Baffa came looking for you up to three times and didn't find you. Your only saving grace was that when he asked Mama, she said you went to Ameena's house."

"Alhamdulillah," I whispered, feeling my chest beat nine times out of fear. "Wallahi, I was terrified." "Just watch it. Because you love roaming about, the day Baffa shows you his true colors, you'll regret that day. I'll even cry along with you, you'll see." With that, she packed the food containers and went outside, leaving me with a plate of tuwo shinkafa and raw okra soup loaded with butter.

I wondered about what she said, but God knows best. I stood up, washed my hands after finishing the morsel in my hand, brushed my teeth, and went to lie down on the bed.

[Part 3: Return to Abuja]

Slowly, he walked down, wearing a soft, light green unstitched fabric (yadi) with delicate embroidery that revealed the white vest underneath. He wore no cap, so his smooth, flat locks of hair were fully visible, and a sweet fragrance emanated from his body. His shoes matched the color of his outfit, and he carried his phone and car keys in his hand.

Catching the scent of his perfume, she lifted her head, watching him until he reached where she sat and made himself comfortable on one of the cushions.

"Ya Ahmad, good morning." "Morning," he replied briefly, turning his gaze away from her. He let out a short hiss. Imagine it being 12 noon and someone hasn't done any chores, yet they are still lounging around in sleepwear.

Unable to keep quiet seeing her insolence go too far, he called her name in a slow voice. "Na'am," she answered, calling him my man while still glued to her iPhone.

Here she goes, he thought to himself. "What stopped you from changing your sleeping dress before coming out to the general parlor?"

She dropped her phone, stood up, and came close to him. "My man, something was sent to my office. Tomorrow by 10, I have a meeting, that's why I didn't dress up yet. But wait for me, I'll be right back so we can have breakfast," she said, standing up.

He also stood up and said, "No, I won't stay for breakfast. I want to go home. If I don't go now, I won't catch him. Just take care of yourself." With that, he left the area, and she went back to her room.

He took the elevator down. The soldier standing by quickly rushed toward him, saluted, took the keys from his hand, and followed him straight to where the cars were parked.

At a Bugatti, the soldier opened the back door for him, and he got in. The soldier took the passenger seat, started the car, and drove out from the second gate to the first gate. Security officers lined up as far as the eye could see, saluting from the moment the car's hood appeared until it drove completely out of the estate.

(Vote, Comment, Share, AR needed. Asmaluv for ever)

[Part 4: The Family Visit]

The driver-soldier pulled up in front of a majestic mansion. The gateman opened the gates, and they drove the nose of the car straight into the courtyard filled with blooming flowers.

He parked in the compound, got out, and opened the back door himself because he wanted to see Abbu.

The front door was wide open, and he walked straight into the parlor with an air of authority. Ammy was sitting on a sofa wearing medical glasses and reading a newspaper.

He offered a brief greeting, which made his dimples appear. Joyfully, she put the newspaper aside, stood up, and opened her arms. He fell into her embrace, letting out a small sigh of relief.

In a soft voice, he said, "I miss you so much, my Ammy." Smiling, she pushed him back slightly and said, "Even us too, we miss you." Teasingly, she added, "Is it really true you're working, seeing how you've gained weight and look so healthy?"

"Ah, Ammy, you're starting with the teasing. Anyone would grow plump, that's why you're saying this." She smiled. "Who, me? Teasing my baby? Never!" "Ah, Ammy, you're saying if I went somewhere else, Ramlah taught you this. Let's drop the subject," he said, stamping his feet on the floor like a baby boy. "Ammy, give me food to eat before I see Abbu. I want to notify him about what we discussed."

She slightly frowned and said, "Where is that lazy wife of yours who doesn't even know how to set a pot on the fire? What stopped her from giving you your food?" "Ah, Ammy, my wife is lazy? My wife wasn't made to enter the kitchen for just one thing..." Hearing what he said made him pause and cover his mouth.

"Well, well! My boy has a champion for a wife," she laughed softly, noticing how he closed his eyes in embarrassment. She knew well that Ammy could easily make him feel shy, which made him stand up and stumble toward the dining table.

He ate some wheat porridge (kunun alkama) and bean cakes (kosai). Though he rarely ate heavily, this was a staple habit embedded in his blood and body; if he didn't have it, he couldn't sleep.

He walked back to the parlor and sat down, waiting for his parents to come down. Scarcely 5 minutes later, his parents descended, both smiling, though Ammy's smile was unique. The moment Ahmad saw how she smiled, he knew it was meant for him, so he looked away with a slight smile.

He knelt fully to greet Abbu before taking a seat on the cushion. Ammy and Abbu sat on the two-seater sofa. After exchanging warm father-and-son greetings, he stated his reason for coming: "Actually, sometime this week, I want to go to Zaria to visit home before heading to Russia, since I'll be spending about 5 months there."

Abbu sighed, looking briefly at Ammy, who had turned her head away to show indifference to their conversation. Abbu said, "That's quite proper. However, let's make haste slowly. You see, Aunty Larai came two months ago when you were in India. She complained that you don't love her and never visit her daughter, Zeenat. Whenever you go into Zaria town, you visit Ammy's side of the family, but you never go to where she is. She left this message for me to pass on to you as your father. The reason I'm telling you this is so that when you go to Zaria, you should visit her first."

Ahmad sighed, feeling the discomfort of dealing with his father's step-sister. Slowly, he said, "Insha Allah, I will go there first." "Good, my boy."

Ahmad widened his eyes playfully, pouting like a little boy, and said, "Abba, please, I'm not a boy! If even..." He trailed off, remembering the slip of the tongue he was about to make.

Try as she might to hold back her laughter, Ammy burst out laughing and said, "My boy, go ahead and finish what you wanted to say!" "Ah, Ammy, you've turned me into your toddler. We're all in the same place, yet you have to call me 'boy'! God forbid!"

Both of them smiled at how he talked like a little child. They spent some time together before Abbu left for his office. Ahmad walked back to the seat where Ammy sat and looked at her with a troubled face.

"Ammy, did you hear what Abbu said? That I should go visit that woman who dislikes us and openly shows it, even claiming I never visit her but only go to Baffa's place—Baffa, whom I haven't even laid eyes on since I was one?"

"Shiiiii," Ammy hushed, placing her hand gently on his smooth hair and stroking it. "I never want to hear you utter words like that again, even when you're not with me. No matter how Larai behaves, she is your mother, whether you accept or reject it. I just want you to be God-fearing wherever you find yourself. Therefore, obey your father's command." With those words, she left him in the parlor.

Unable to torture himself further over Larai, he stood up and walked out.

Inside the car, a phone call came in. He offered a slight smile before answering. "She doesn't want you to be wealthy and become a general like her and Ammar, able to just roll into Abuja without a call!"

"Hey," he said softly, knowing Ammar's banter meant no harm, but things had simply been overwhelming. "Sorry, I'll make time for us. How is Amnah?"

He glanced briefly at his wife lying on his chest, gently stroking him, and said, "Uhm, she's fine." "Man, I heard your voice change like someone doing heavy work!" "Yeah, something came up," Ahmad said playfully. "Uhm, you know how it is, but the good thing is I don't pay," Ammar laughed heartily. Swiftly, Ya Ahmad hung up the call with a faint smile, biting his lower lip slightly. Even now, only he knew the state of his mind.

[Part 5: School Morning]

In the morning, I earned a knock on the head because Ummita had dressed up while I was still sleeping soundly. That woke me up, and Gwaggo even came to knock my head. Despite that, I managed to take a bath, get dressed, and set off for school. We usually walked on foot.

At the school gate, I parted ways with Ameena because she was in the science class while I was in arts.

"NJ! NJ!" someone shouted my way, but I acted like I heard nothing. Then my hijab was yanked from behind.

Furious, I spun around and yelled, "What?" Even though the girl was a Christian and twice my size, arguing is my second nature. "You witch, pagan, unclean peeing thing! What happened that you grabbed my hijab? Are you trying to give me janaba, you bad girl?" I even grabbed my own waist to get ready for a proper street fight.

In her broken Hausa that didn't sound quite right, she said, "Uncle Sabi'u called you. He said you should come to him within 4 minutes." With that, she hurried away, wrinkling her nose as if she smelled something foul.

I'm not going anywhere, wallahi! A man like a wizard; whenever you go to his office, he has no work other than staring at you, talking, and spitting saliva. "Mtswww," I hissed and walked away.

Summary

This narrative weaves together two contrasting lives and relationships. In Abuja, the story follows Ya Ahmad, a high-ranking, wealthy, and stern military general whose life is surrounded by luxury, protocol, and strict discipline. He maintains a complex marital dynamic with Lubna, a proud and demanding wife, alongside managing his domestic staff, including Precious. Meanwhile, visits to his parents reveal his deep bond with his mother (Ammy) and father (Abbu), and a family duty requiring him to visit his estranged step-aunt, Aunty Larai, in Zaria before deployment to Russia.

Concurrently in Zaria, the story follows a spirited 15-year-old girl named NJ (Nabila). NJ navigates a difficult home life under the strict supervision of Gwaggo and Mama, constant pressure and scolding from her brother Ya Abbakar, and a secretive relationship with an older man named Najib, who harbors manipulative intentions. The juxtaposition highlights the stark divide between elite urban military life and the harsh, traditional, and restrictive realities faced by a young teenage girl in Northern Nigeria.

Description

• Setting: Modern-day urban Nigeria, primarily alternating between high-end estates and military protocol environments in Abuja and a traditional neighborhood in Zaria.
• Tone: Romantic, dramatic, tense, with elements of slice-of-life and youthful stubbornness.
• Themes: Power dynamics in marriage, military authority vs. domestic life, youthful rebellion, familial obligations, and socio-economic contrasts.

Analytics

• Character Focus: Ya Ahmad (discipline, emotional suppression, high status) vs. NJ (adolescent defiance, fear of authority, vulnerability).
• Conflict Points:
  1. Domestic friction between Lubna, Precious, and Ya Ahmad.
  2. Family tension regarding Aunty Larai in Zaria.
  3. NJ's dangerous secret outings with Najib versus her terror of her guardian, Ya Abbakar.
• Pacing: Shifts rapidly between fast-paced elite transitions (cars, guards, elevators) and grounded, chaotic domestic scenes.

Comments

• The story provides a compelling dual perspective, contrasting the polished, intimidating world of military elite officers with the gritty, disciplined upbringing of rural/semi-urban teenagers in Northern Nigerian fiction.
• The character development emphasizes stark emotional armor—Ya Ahmad masks his inner stress with cold professionalism, while NJ uses a tough exterior and street-fighting attitude to survive domestic pressure.

Conclusions

The excerpt effectively sets up multiple subplots: Ya Ahmad's upcoming international assignment to Russia and family reconciliation in Zaria, and NJ's dangerous flirtation with older influences (Najib) right under the nose of her strict family. Both storylines explore the heavy consequences of disobedience, pride, and authority.

Keywords

• Ya Ahmad, Lubna, NJ (Nabila), Zaria, Abuja, Military Romance, Hausa Fiction, Asmaluv, Family Drama.

Table List