The voice of an elderly woman, who could not be more than fifty years old, filled the room. She was shaken with worry as she kept shaking the young man of about twenty-eight years who lay on the large bed in the room.
She kept saying,
“Are you okay, son? Open your eyes. Aliyuuuu, open your eyes. What’s your problem? What kind of dream is this? Please wake up!”
Suddenly he opened his eyes in fright and quickly sat up, looking around the room while his chest rose and fell heavily. After a moment, he turned his gaze to his mother who was staring at him anxiously, unable to say anything.
He closed his eyes and in a weak voice said,
“Mother…”
She quickly held his hand, worry clearly written all over her face.
“What is your problem, Aliyu? Tell me what is wrong. Are you sick?”
He opened his eyes again and looked at her.
“Please pray for me, Mum… I don’t know… I just can’t have peace of mind. Maybe…”
He suddenly fell silent as tears gathered in his tired eyes.
She said softly,
“I am your mother, Aliyu. Is there anyone in this whole world you can tell your worries except me? Tell me where you went wrong. What mistake did you make? Tell me, Aliyu.”
He wiped the sweat from his forehead and slowly rested his head on her shoulder.
“Just pray for me, Mother…”
She lifted his head and asked,
“So you won’t tell me?”
He stayed silent, staring at her with his large eyes. After a moment he closed them and opened them again.
“I will keep praying, Mum. It’s not even worth saying. Just pray for me too.”
She sighed and stood up, walking toward the door. As she was about to leave, he softly said,
“Your prayers please, Mum…”
She didn’t answer and quietly left the room.
He looked at the clock. It was 2:00 AM.
He stood up weakly and walked into the bathroom.
---
Five years later
She hurriedly finished washing a cup and spoon and came out of the kitchen. She turned off the electronics in the living room, grabbed the handbag lying on the chair and hung it on her shoulder as she headed toward the door while checking her wristwatch.
She was wearing a long sea-green casual dress, a small red scarf, and red flat shoes. She wasn’t used to wearing high heels because of her height. Even her handbag was red.
There was almost no makeup on her face except powder and eye pencil, and a little chapstick on her lips. Anyone might even think she was wearing pink lipstick because of the natural pink color of her lips. Even she knew her lips were unique… but who cared?
She clicked her tongue and opened the door while holding the keys she intended to use to lock her apartment.
Standing near the apartment next to hers was a young man who had just come out as well, apparently about to lock his door. He was very tall — the kind people would call a gentleman. Even with her height, she looked small beside him.
He looked like someone from Egypt or Ethiopia, judging by his complexion and hair. He wore black sunglasses which emphasized the sharp shape of his nose. His face looked stern with no sign of friendliness.
She moved aside slowly to give him space. After locking his door he walked past her without even glancing in her direction and headed toward the parking area.
She watched him carefully, wondering whether he had forgotten to fix his belt… or whether his trousers were sagging.
Her mouth dropped open.
Of course, his trousers were sagging.
She turned away in irritation, annoyed that she now had to share the same compound with him.
He was the new tenant of the apartment beside hers after her kind neighbor Nancy had moved away. When Nancy left she had prayed that a man wouldn’t take the apartment — but unfortunately it was a man.
She didn’t even know about him until now because she had been out of the country for three weeks during the holidays and had only returned yesterday evening.
Feeling tired, she locked her door and left to find a taxi that would take her to school — the University of Cambridge.
She stood there for more than five minutes, her whole body trembling. One thought came to her mind at that moment — to leave her apartment completely and go stay with Vanessa until she found another place.
She turned and looked toward the kitchen stove and saw that it was already off. Like someone moving unconsciously, she walked into the living room and locked the door. She sat down there, still feeling as if everything had happened in a dream.
How could this happen to her? She had never met a man who could intimidate her life like this. No man had ever dared to treat her this way — whoever he thought he was.
Thinking about it made her smile bitterly as she clicked her tongue and walked into her bedroom. Even there, she sat on the edge of the bed, still shocked.
A kiss?
How dare he kiss her?
He had just kissed her like that, and she had let him. Tears filled her eyes as she remembered it.
Did he think she was that cheap? Or that she was alone in this country and had no one?
She slid down to the floor and leaned her head against the bed, her heart burning with anger.
Who could she even report this to in this country?
Nobody.
Vanessa wouldn’t take it seriously. If she even told her, she might laugh about it.
Yusuf?
The thought of him suddenly made her angry again. The way he spoke to her earlier annoyed her. Was he even truly Hausa, or had he only learned the language? That was something she couldn’t figure out.
She clicked her tongue again and thought,
Maybe he only speaks Hausa. Because if he is truly Hausa, then he is nothing but a disgrace to Hausa people and the Hausa land as a whole.
In fact, she was sure he was not even Hausa.
She sat there doing nothing until almost ten o’clock. Her heart refused to calm down. It had been a long time since she felt this angry.
After sighing countless times she muttered,
“I will deal with you before I leave this house, InshaAllah. You can’t just put your filthy mouth on mine and walk away freely.”
After that she stood up and went into the bathroom. She took a bath, performed ablution, and then prayed the Isha prayer.
After finishing her prayers she picked up her phone. She had missed two calls while praying. It was Vanessa calling.
She called her back.
As soon as Vanessa answered she said,
“Hey love, you’re still not back yet.”
Khadijah looked at the clock and replied softly,
“It’s late, Vanessa. I’ll come over tomorrow.”
Vanessa told her goodnight and ended the call.
Only then did Khadijah realize she was hungry. She stood up and went to the kitchen to check the food she had cooked earlier.
She suddenly paused.
It sounded like a woman’s voice coming from the neighbor’s kitchen. The compound was very quiet, so the sound was clear.
Slowly she moved closer to the window and listened carefully. Yes — it was definitely a woman’s voice.
She frowned in surprise and annoyance, served her food into a plate and left the kitchen.
After eating she went into her room and packed most of her belongings into two bags.
Later that night her phone rang again. It was her mother.
She answered respectfully.
“Hello Umma, how is everyone at home?”
Her mother replied,
“Alhamdulillah. I thought you were already asleep. How is your study?”
“It’s going well, Umma. I’m about to sleep now.”
Her mother prayed for her and reminded her to be careful.
They ended the call.
Khadijah lay down and covered herself completely with the duvet, though her heart was still heavy.
---
The Next Morning
After Fajr prayer she didn’t go back to sleep because she had lectures in the morning.
She bathed, cleaned her bathroom, and then went to the kitchen to clean it as well. She washed all the utensils she used the previous night and gathered the trash into the dustbin.
She wore a hijab over her clothes and opened the back door to dispose of the trash.
Then she froze.
He was there.
The moment she saw him she turned and ran back into the kitchen, locking the door with trembling hands.
Standing outside the kitchen window he said mockingly,
“So… am I a beast or a monster?”
She didn’t even look at him. Instead she turned off the kitchen light and rushed into the living room, slamming the door loudly.
He only smiled while wiping sweat from his forehead.
---
Later, she prepared for school. She wore a black abaya and scarf. Even though she was hungry, she still left the house.
Carefully she opened the door and looked outside before stepping out while silently reciting prayers.
Just then a white woman walked out of his apartment. Khadijah’s heart skipped — she had thought it was him.
The woman was wearing a short top and trousers, carrying books and a small bag.
“Good morning,” the woman greeted.
Khadijah ignored her and continued walking.
The woman then asked someone behind her,
“Is she having difficulty hearing?”
At that moment Khadijah realized he had come out too.
He simply replied,
“I think so.”
Khadijah quickly left the compound and stopped a taxi.
Inside the taxi she thought to herself:
InshaAllah this is the end. I may not even sleep in that house tonight.
When she returned from school she planned to pack her things and move to Vanessa’s house.
But before leaving, she promised herself one thing.
She would teach him a lesson.
She would show him that not every woman was weak enough to be treated the way he treated her.
From her experience living abroad, she realized something:
Sometimes it was even better to live among strangers than with someone from the same country.
The voice of an elderly woman, who could not be more than fifty years old, filled the room. She was shaken with worry as she kept shaking the young man of about twenty-eight years who lay on the large bed in the room.
She kept saying,
“Are you okay, son? Open your eyes. Aliyuuuu, open your eyes. What’s your problem? What kind of dream is this? Please wake up!”
Suddenly he opened his eyes in fright and quickly sat up, looking around the room while his chest rose and fell heavily. After a moment, he turned his gaze to his mother who was staring at him anxiously, unable to say anything.
He closed his eyes and in a weak voice said,
“Mother…”
She quickly held his hand, worry clearly written all over her face.
“What is your problem, Aliyu? Tell me what is wrong. Are you sick?”
He opened his eyes again and looked at her.
“Please pray for me, Mum… I don’t know… I just can’t have peace of mind. Maybe…”
He suddenly fell silent as tears gathered in his tired eyes.
She said softly,
“I am your mother, Aliyu. Is there anyone in this whole world you can tell your worries except me? Tell me where you went wrong. What mistake did you make? Tell me, Aliyu.”
He wiped the sweat from his forehead and slowly rested his head on her shoulder.
“Just pray for me, Mother…”
She lifted his head and asked,
“So you won’t tell me?”
He stayed silent, staring at her with his large eyes. After a moment he closed them and opened them again.
“I will keep praying, Mum. It’s not even worth saying. Just pray for me too.”
She sighed and stood up, walking toward the door. As she was about to leave, he softly said,
“Your prayers please, Mum…”
She didn’t answer and quietly left the room.
He looked at the clock. It was 2:00 AM.
He stood up weakly and walked into the bathroom.
---
Five years later
She hurriedly finished washing a cup and spoon and came out of the kitchen. She turned off the electronics in the living room, grabbed the handbag lying on the chair and hung it on her shoulder as she headed toward the door while checking her wristwatch.
She was wearing a long sea-green casual dress, a small red scarf, and red flat shoes. She wasn’t used to wearing high heels because of her height. Even her handbag was red.
There was almost no makeup on her face except powder and eye pencil, and a little chapstick on her lips. Anyone might even think she was wearing pink lipstick because of the natural pink color of her lips. Even she knew her lips were unique… but who cared?
She clicked her tongue and opened the door while holding the keys she intended to use to lock her apartment.
Standing near the apartment next to hers was a young man who had just come out as well, apparently about to lock his door. He was very tall — the kind people would call a gentleman. Even with her height, she looked small beside him.
He looked like someone from Egypt or Ethiopia, judging by his complexion and hair. He wore black sunglasses which emphasized the sharp shape of his nose. His face looked stern with no sign of friendliness.
She moved aside slowly to give him space. After locking his door he walked past her without even glancing in her direction and headed toward the parking area.
She watched him carefully, wondering whether he had forgotten to fix his belt… or whether his trousers were sagging.
Her mouth dropped open.
Of course, his trousers were sagging.
She turned away in irritation, annoyed that she now had to share the same compound with him.
He was the new tenant of the apartment beside hers after her kind neighbor Nancy had moved away. When Nancy left she had prayed that a man wouldn’t take the apartment — but unfortunately it was a man.
She didn’t even know about him until now because she had been out of the country for three weeks during the holidays and had only returned yesterday evening.
Feeling tired, she locked her door and left to find a taxi that would take her to school — the University of Cambridge.
She stood there for more than five minutes, her whole body trembling. One thought came to her mind at that moment — to leave her apartment completely and go stay with Vanessa until she found another place.
She turned and looked toward the kitchen stove and saw that it was already off. Like someone moving unconsciously, she walked into the living room and locked the door. She sat down there, still feeling as if everything had happened in a dream.
How could this happen to her? She had never met a man who could intimidate her life like this. No man had ever dared to treat her this way — whoever he thought he was.
Thinking about it made her smile bitterly as she clicked her tongue and walked into her bedroom. Even there, she sat on the edge of the bed, still shocked.
A kiss?
How dare he kiss her?
He had just kissed her like that, and she had let him. Tears filled her eyes as she remembered it.
Did he think she was that cheap? Or that she was alone in this country and had no one?
She slid down to the floor and leaned her head against the bed, her heart burning with anger.
Who could she even report this to in this country?
Nobody.
Vanessa wouldn’t take it seriously. If she even told her, she might laugh about it.
Yusuf?
The thought of him suddenly made her angry again. The way he spoke to her earlier annoyed her. Was he even truly Hausa, or had he only learned the language? That was something she couldn’t figure out.
She clicked her tongue again and thought,
Maybe he only speaks Hausa. Because if he is truly Hausa, then he is nothing but a disgrace to Hausa people and the Hausa land as a whole.
In fact, she was sure he was not even Hausa.
She sat there doing nothing until almost ten o’clock. Her heart refused to calm down. It had been a long time since she felt this angry.
After sighing countless times she muttered,
“I will deal with you before I leave this house, InshaAllah. You can’t just put your filthy mouth on mine and walk away freely.”
After that she stood up and went into the bathroom. She took a bath, performed ablution, and then prayed the Isha prayer.
After finishing her prayers she picked up her phone. She had missed two calls while praying. It was Vanessa calling.
She called her back.
As soon as Vanessa answered she said,
“Hey love, you’re still not back yet.”
Khadijah looked at the clock and replied softly,
“It’s late, Vanessa. I’ll come over tomorrow.”
Vanessa told her goodnight and ended the call.
Only then did Khadijah realize she was hungry. She stood up and went to the kitchen to check the food she had cooked earlier.
She suddenly paused.
It sounded like a woman’s voice coming from the neighbor’s kitchen. The compound was very quiet, so the sound was clear.
Slowly she moved closer to the window and listened carefully. Yes — it was definitely a woman’s voice.
She frowned in surprise and annoyance, served her food into a plate and left the kitchen.
After eating she went into her room and packed most of her belongings into two bags.
Later that night her phone rang again. It was her mother.
She answered respectfully.
“Hello Umma, how is everyone at home?”
Her mother replied,
“Alhamdulillah. I thought you were already asleep. How is your study?”
“It’s going well, Umma. I’m about to sleep now.”
Her mother prayed for her and reminded her to be careful.
They ended the call.
Khadijah lay down and covered herself completely with the duvet, though her heart was still heavy.
---
The Next Morning
After Fajr prayer she didn’t go back to sleep because she had lectures in the morning.
She bathed, cleaned her bathroom, and then went to the kitchen to clean it as well. She washed all the utensils she used the previous night and gathered the trash into the dustbin.
She wore a hijab over her clothes and opened the back door to dispose of the trash.
Then she froze.
He was there.
The moment she saw him she turned and ran back into the kitchen, locking the door with trembling hands.
Standing outside the kitchen window he said mockingly,
“So… am I a beast or a monster?”
She didn’t even look at him. Instead she turned off the kitchen light and rushed into the living room, slamming the door loudly.
He only smiled while wiping sweat from his forehead.
---
Later, she prepared for school. She wore a black abaya and scarf. Even though she was hungry, she still left the house.
Carefully she opened the door and looked outside before stepping out while silently reciting prayers.
Just then a white woman walked out of his apartment. Khadijah’s heart skipped — she had thought it was him.
The woman was wearing a short top and trousers, carrying books and a small bag.
“Good morning,” the woman greeted.
Khadijah ignored her and continued walking.
The woman then asked someone behind her,
“Is she having difficulty hearing?”
At that moment Khadijah realized he had come out too.
He simply replied,
“I think so.”
Khadijah quickly left the compound and stopped a taxi.
Inside the taxi she thought to herself:
InshaAllah this is the end. I may not even sleep in that house tonight.
When she returned from school she planned to pack her things and move to Vanessa’s house.
But before leaving, she promised herself one thing.
She would teach him a lesson.
She would show him that not every woman was weak enough to be treated the way he treated her.
From her experience living abroad, she realized something:
Sometimes it was even better to live among strangers than with someone from the same country.