Her legs gave way the moment she heard the staggering cost of the medicine. She swallowed hard, wiping the sweat from her face—even though it was early morning and the cold breeze was blowing, the sweat still drenched Sa’adah. Where would they get the money for Hajiyah’s medicine, when her condition had reached a dangerous stage of deterioration?
Sa’adah sat down heavily on the ground, crying bitterly, her hand clutching the prescription card. Her eyes were red, her face swollen from crying.
“My sister, I hope you’re okay—why are you crying like this?”
said a dark-skinned woman standing over Sa’adah.
Sa’adah looked up at her, her face soaked with tears and mucus.
“Our mother was prescribed medicine, but we don’t have the money. And the doctor said she must take it—otherwise anything could happen.”
The woman looked Sa’adah over carefully and said openly,
“Praise be to God who created such a beautiful face. I pray Allah protects your dignity. Young women should learn from your character—there’s hardly a man who wouldn’t desire you, yet you’ve preserved your honor. With your looks, you could have taken a wrong path just to treat your mother, but you didn’t disgrace yourself. Come, let me see your mother.”
Sa’adah wiped her tears and walked ahead, the woman following behind. They went to Ummi, where Hajiyah lay, drooling so much that it had stained Ummi’s clothes.
They exchanged greetings.
“Allah have mercy,” the woman said. “I’ll help you. For now, come—take your mother home, then follow me to Janguza where I live. My work is sending girls to houses as domestic help; there’s a place looking for workers. I’ll take you there.”
They thanked her. They helped Hajiyah out and boarded a tricycle to their house, the woman escorting them. She said her name was Hadiza. Because of too much talking, Sa’adah stopped Hadiza outside. After settling Hajiyah at home, Sa’adah came back out, leaving Ummi with Hajiyah.
They set off, Hadiza saying Sa’adah’s house wasn’t far. They crossed the road and entered a huge compound. A gatekeeper opened the gate for them, joking with Hadiza. They sat in a large living room for a long time before the lady of the house came out. Sa’adah watched her—she was heavily built, walking with difficulty due to her size. Dark-skinned, extremely fat, with a prominent nose, she stared at them before sitting down heavily, making the chair sink under her weight.
“Hadiza, is it today you found time to bring me a maid, when I’m traveling the day after tomorrow?”
Hadiza replied humbly, head lowered,
“Please forgive me, madam. The girl has suffered a lot.”
That was when Sa’adah greeted the woman, who stared at her for a while before turning to Hadiza.
“Is this the girl you brought for me to employ?”
Hadiza scratched her head.
“Yes, madam—she lives nearby.”
The woman laughed mockingly.
“No, Hadiza, I can’t take this girl. She’ll snatch my husband. Please, leave—my husband will be back soon.”
Sa’adah clung to the woman’s legs.
“Please, have mercy. I beg you—for my mother’s sake. I need money for her medicine.”
With cruel indifference, the woman hissed,
“Get out! I won’t risk temptation with my money. Your beauty is dangerous—if I took you, I’d destroy myself.”
She stood up and left them in the living room. Hadiza held Sa’adah’s hand and led her out to the street. Sa’adah cried uncontrollably. Hadiza felt deep pity, comforted her, and assured her she’d try another house. She gave Sa’adah two hundred naira. Sa’adah clutched the money and went home.
When she arrived, Hajiyah was worse. Her anxiety increased even more. She sat Hajiyah up, crying. Around late afternoon, Aunty Murja brought them food and money, saying it was from her husband. With joy, Sa’adah took the two thousand naira Aunty Murja’s husband sent and went out to buy the medicine.
She entered a large roadside chemist and handed the prescription and money to the chemist, who stared at her strangely after reading it.
“My dear, this medicine costs twenty thousand naira—not two thousand.”
Sa’adah felt a jolt at the way he addressed her, but she controlled herself.
“If you give credit, please help me. God willing, by the end of the month I’ll pay you.”
He laughed lightly.
“My dear, you don’t need money—just come, let me hug you, touch that wealthy chest of yours, and I’ll give you the medicine free. You’re beautiful; I’m surprised medicine money is a problem when you carry wealth on your body.”
Sa’adah shot him a furious look, snatched the prescription, hissed, and left, cursing the behavior of some men. Confused and distressed, she prayed Allah wouldn’t let her disobey Him in seeking her mother’s healing.
She noticed a group of women approaching, apparently beggars. As they passed, they discussed the amount of charity they had received from a certain house. Their conversation caught Sa’adah’s attention. She followed them, calling out,
“Servants of Allah, please stop.”
Only one woman stopped. Breathing heavily, Sa’adah asked,
“I heard you mention a charity house. Please, where is it? I want to go too—maybe I’ll receive help.”
Though the woman doubted Sa’adah’s need because of her appearance, she still described the house’s location. Sa’adah thanked her and hurried home. They tended to Hajiyah. At sunset, food from Aunty Murja arrived. They ate while Ummi conveyed Murja’s message—that they would be sent cooked food daily by her husband.
Sa’adah thanked her, but her mind was fixed on the charity house. She explained to Ummi while adjusting her hijab.
“You mean you’re going out again? Rest, Sa’adah—Hajiyah is sleeping,” Ummi said anxiously.
“I’m not at peace, Ummi. Let me go. I’m confident of success by Allah’s will.”
Ummi stood up.
“I won’t let you go alone—the world is dangerous.”
Sa’adah then told her about the chemist, laughing bitterly. They locked the door as usual and went out, hearing Umma shouting insults at them. They found transport and reached the described place. Sa’adah recognized it immediately—a huge compound with many women lined up. They joined the line. When the Maghrib call to prayer was made and it reached their turn, surprisingly the gatekeeper pointed at Sa’adah and said she should enter, while Ummi stayed outside. When Ummi tried to protest, Sa’adah stopped her since no one else was treated that way.
Sa’adah entered. The gatekeeper led her to a large living room and left. She sat on the carpet, tense, looking around. A huge dark-skinned man with a big belly came out wearing a robe and sat down. Sa’adah greeted him.
“My daughter, what brings you here?”
Trembling, she explained her problem. He smiled and stood up.
“Follow me—Allah will grant her healing.”
Her body shook violently as she followed him into a room. As soon as she entered, he turned off the light.
“I use charity as a cover to enjoy the beauty that attracts me. So come—let’s enjoy ourselves, then I’ll dismiss you.”
As he spoke, he began touching himself obscenely.
Sa’adah’s body shook uncontrollably—she had never seen a man like this. She closed her eyes, reciting whatever prayers came to her lips, stepping backward, knowing it was forbidden to look at nakedness. Despite the darkness, she realized he was naked.
She fell near the door, sprang up instantly, and ran for her life. There was a distance between the living room and the courtyard. By Allah’s protection, she reached the gate—it was open. The gatekeeper was praying. She dashed out. Ummi saw her running wildly and chased after her. They ran until Ummi barely caught her, and they both collapsed, panting heavily. Even then, Sa’adah was still shaking.
“Ummi, that man is a pervert—he was naked. I went seeking help. Allah protected my dignity.”
Ummi cursed loudly.
“Indeed Allah exposed him! If he had called me, I would’ve dealt with him. That’s how those cursed people are—using charity to harm the vulnerable. Allah hastened to expose him.”
She stood up.
“Where are you going?” Sa’adah asked.
“I’m going to make him pay our transport and disgrace him.”
Sa’adah pleaded softly, holding her hand.
“Please be patient. I didn’t tell you to cause trouble. Let’s just go home.”
They returned home, Ummi still cursing him and lamenting the four hundred naira wasted on transport.
Ummi prayed, while Sa’adah sat rubbing Hajiyah’s body because of her fever. After praying, Ummi sat beside Sa’adah, who was deep in thought about how to get the medicine money.
“Ummi, do you know what?” Sa’adah said.
“How would I know?” Ummi replied lightly.
Sa’adah smiled.
“I just feel pity for Hajiyah.”
“Not only you,” Ummi said, tears forming. “I’ve even decided to give my body so Hajiyah can get well—since men have become demons.”
Sa’adah covered her mouth in shock.
“Don’t you dare, Ummi. That’s the worst thing. Even if Hajiyah died, you would’ve destroyed your dignity. Let’s keep praying—the world is the believer’s prison.”
Ummi cried.
“I remember how Hajiyah cared for us before she fell ill. Since our father died, she never let us feel orphaned. She said we were her trust. Yet today we can’t raise twenty thousand for her medicine.”
Sa’adah smiled painfully.
“That’s Allah’s will—a test of our faith. What pains me most is seeing her illness while her sons are alive yet useless.”
Ummi said,
“I’ve erased them from my heart. Tomorrow we’ll go out early again. Please stop talking about those useless people.”
From the courtyard they heard Umma arguing with Jamila, accusing her of disappearing all day. Jamila replied she went out to eat—she was tired of hunger—and accused Umma of laziness and quarreling with neighbors.
Umma shouted back, demanding to know where she had been all day. Jamila tried to placate her, mentioning money and business. Umma softened, loving money above all else.
Zubaida stormed out angrily, accusing Jamila. Umma defended Jamila because of the money she brought. Zubaida retorted, Jamila mocked her dreams and fake lifestyle, insulting her education. Enraged, Zubaida attacked Jamila, but Umma stopped her, defending Jamila.
They went inside, leaving Zubaida outside, humiliated. Zainura mocked Zubaida, predicting Jamila would soon dominate Umma because of money. Zubaida insisted she wouldn’t live like Jamila, claiming she’d enjoy wealth without struggle. Zainura laughed, mocking her delusions.
Meanwhile, Sa’adah and Ummi locked their door, placed Hajiyah between them, and fell into exhausted sleep—ignoring the noise outside. Their focus was on the solution ahead of them.
Her legs gave way the moment she heard the staggering cost of the medicine. She swallowed hard, wiping the sweat from her face—even though it was early morning and the cold breeze was blowing, the sweat still drenched Sa’adah. Where would they get the money for Hajiyah’s medicine, when her condition had reached a dangerous stage of deterioration?
Sa’adah sat down heavily on the ground, crying bitterly, her hand clutching the prescription card. Her eyes were red, her face swollen from crying.
“My sister, I hope you’re okay—why are you crying like this?”
said a dark-skinned woman standing over Sa’adah.
Sa’adah looked up at her, her face soaked with tears and mucus.
“Our mother was prescribed medicine, but we don’t have the money. And the doctor said she must take it—otherwise anything could happen.”
The woman looked Sa’adah over carefully and said openly,
“Praise be to God who created such a beautiful face. I pray Allah protects your dignity. Young women should learn from your character—there’s hardly a man who wouldn’t desire you, yet you’ve preserved your honor. With your looks, you could have taken a wrong path just to treat your mother, but you didn’t disgrace yourself. Come, let me see your mother.”
Sa’adah wiped her tears and walked ahead, the woman following behind. They went to Ummi, where Hajiyah lay, drooling so much that it had stained Ummi’s clothes.
They exchanged greetings.
“Allah have mercy,” the woman said. “I’ll help you. For now, come—take your mother home, then follow me to Janguza where I live. My work is sending girls to houses as domestic help; there’s a place looking for workers. I’ll take you there.”
They thanked her. They helped Hajiyah out and boarded a tricycle to their house, the woman escorting them. She said her name was Hadiza. Because of too much talking, Sa’adah stopped Hadiza outside. After settling Hajiyah at home, Sa’adah came back out, leaving Ummi with Hajiyah.
They set off, Hadiza saying Sa’adah’s house wasn’t far. They crossed the road and entered a huge compound. A gatekeeper opened the gate for them, joking with Hadiza. They sat in a large living room for a long time before the lady of the house came out. Sa’adah watched her—she was heavily built, walking with difficulty due to her size. Dark-skinned, extremely fat, with a prominent nose, she stared at them before sitting down heavily, making the chair sink under her weight.
“Hadiza, is it today you found time to bring me a maid, when I’m traveling the day after tomorrow?”
Hadiza replied humbly, head lowered,
“Please forgive me, madam. The girl has suffered a lot.”
That was when Sa’adah greeted the woman, who stared at her for a while before turning to Hadiza.
“Is this the girl you brought for me to employ?”
Hadiza scratched her head.
“Yes, madam—she lives nearby.”
The woman laughed mockingly.
“No, Hadiza, I can’t take this girl. She’ll snatch my husband. Please, leave—my husband will be back soon.”
Sa’adah clung to the woman’s legs.
“Please, have mercy. I beg you—for my mother’s sake. I need money for her medicine.”
With cruel indifference, the woman hissed,
“Get out! I won’t risk temptation with my money. Your beauty is dangerous—if I took you, I’d destroy myself.”
She stood up and left them in the living room. Hadiza held Sa’adah’s hand and led her out to the street. Sa’adah cried uncontrollably. Hadiza felt deep pity, comforted her, and assured her she’d try another house. She gave Sa’adah two hundred naira. Sa’adah clutched the money and went home.
When she arrived, Hajiyah was worse. Her anxiety increased even more. She sat Hajiyah up, crying. Around late afternoon, Aunty Murja brought them food and money, saying it was from her husband. With joy, Sa’adah took the two thousand naira Aunty Murja’s husband sent and went out to buy the medicine.
She entered a large roadside chemist and handed the prescription and money to the chemist, who stared at her strangely after reading it.
“My dear, this medicine costs twenty thousand naira—not two thousand.”
Sa’adah felt a jolt at the way he addressed her, but she controlled herself.
“If you give credit, please help me. God willing, by the end of the month I’ll pay you.”
He laughed lightly.
“My dear, you don’t need money—just come, let me hug you, touch that wealthy chest of yours, and I’ll give you the medicine free. You’re beautiful; I’m surprised medicine money is a problem when you carry wealth on your body.”
Sa’adah shot him a furious look, snatched the prescription, hissed, and left, cursing the behavior of some men. Confused and distressed, she prayed Allah wouldn’t let her disobey Him in seeking her mother’s healing.
She noticed a group of women approaching, apparently beggars. As they passed, they discussed the amount of charity they had received from a certain house. Their conversation caught Sa’adah’s attention. She followed them, calling out,
“Servants of Allah, please stop.”
Only one woman stopped. Breathing heavily, Sa’adah asked,
“I heard you mention a charity house. Please, where is it? I want to go too—maybe I’ll receive help.”
Though the woman doubted Sa’adah’s need because of her appearance, she still described the house’s location. Sa’adah thanked her and hurried home. They tended to Hajiyah. At sunset, food from Aunty Murja arrived. They ate while Ummi conveyed Murja’s message—that they would be sent cooked food daily by her husband.
Sa’adah thanked her, but her mind was fixed on the charity house. She explained to Ummi while adjusting her hijab.
“You mean you’re going out again? Rest, Sa’adah—Hajiyah is sleeping,” Ummi said anxiously.
“I’m not at peace, Ummi. Let me go. I’m confident of success by Allah’s will.”
Ummi stood up.
“I won’t let you go alone—the world is dangerous.”
Sa’adah then told her about the chemist, laughing bitterly. They locked the door as usual and went out, hearing Umma shouting insults at them. They found transport and reached the described place. Sa’adah recognized it immediately—a huge compound with many women lined up. They joined the line. When the Maghrib call to prayer was made and it reached their turn, surprisingly the gatekeeper pointed at Sa’adah and said she should enter, while Ummi stayed outside. When Ummi tried to protest, Sa’adah stopped her since no one else was treated that way.
Sa’adah entered. The gatekeeper led her to a large living room and left. She sat on the carpet, tense, looking around. A huge dark-skinned man with a big belly came out wearing a robe and sat down. Sa’adah greeted him.
“My daughter, what brings you here?”
Trembling, she explained her problem. He smiled and stood up.
“Follow me—Allah will grant her healing.”
Her body shook violently as she followed him into a room. As soon as she entered, he turned off the light.
“I use charity as a cover to enjoy the beauty that attracts me. So come—let’s enjoy ourselves, then I’ll dismiss you.”
As he spoke, he began touching himself obscenely.
Sa’adah’s body shook uncontrollably—she had never seen a man like this. She closed her eyes, reciting whatever prayers came to her lips, stepping backward, knowing it was forbidden to look at nakedness. Despite the darkness, she realized he was naked.
She fell near the door, sprang up instantly, and ran for her life. There was a distance between the living room and the courtyard. By Allah’s protection, she reached the gate—it was open. The gatekeeper was praying. She dashed out. Ummi saw her running wildly and chased after her. They ran until Ummi barely caught her, and they both collapsed, panting heavily. Even then, Sa’adah was still shaking.
“Ummi, that man is a pervert—he was naked. I went seeking help. Allah protected my dignity.”
Ummi cursed loudly.
“Indeed Allah exposed him! If he had called me, I would’ve dealt with him. That’s how those cursed people are—using charity to harm the vulnerable. Allah hastened to expose him.”
She stood up.
“Where are you going?” Sa’adah asked.
“I’m going to make him pay our transport and disgrace him.”
Sa’adah pleaded softly, holding her hand.
“Please be patient. I didn’t tell you to cause trouble. Let’s just go home.”
They returned home, Ummi still cursing him and lamenting the four hundred naira wasted on transport.
Ummi prayed, while Sa’adah sat rubbing Hajiyah’s body because of her fever. After praying, Ummi sat beside Sa’adah, who was deep in thought about how to get the medicine money.
“Ummi, do you know what?” Sa’adah said.
“How would I know?” Ummi replied lightly.
Sa’adah smiled.
“I just feel pity for Hajiyah.”
“Not only you,” Ummi said, tears forming. “I’ve even decided to give my body so Hajiyah can get well—since men have become demons.”
Sa’adah covered her mouth in shock.
“Don’t you dare, Ummi. That’s the worst thing. Even if Hajiyah died, you would’ve destroyed your dignity. Let’s keep praying—the world is the believer’s prison.”
Ummi cried.
“I remember how Hajiyah cared for us before she fell ill. Since our father died, she never let us feel orphaned. She said we were her trust. Yet today we can’t raise twenty thousand for her medicine.”
Sa’adah smiled painfully.
“That’s Allah’s will—a test of our faith. What pains me most is seeing her illness while her sons are alive yet useless.”
Ummi said,
“I’ve erased them from my heart. Tomorrow we’ll go out early again. Please stop talking about those useless people.”
From the courtyard they heard Umma arguing with Jamila, accusing her of disappearing all day. Jamila replied she went out to eat—she was tired of hunger—and accused Umma of laziness and quarreling with neighbors.
Umma shouted back, demanding to know where she had been all day. Jamila tried to placate her, mentioning money and business. Umma softened, loving money above all else.
Zubaida stormed out angrily, accusing Jamila. Umma defended Jamila because of the money she brought. Zubaida retorted, Jamila mocked her dreams and fake lifestyle, insulting her education. Enraged, Zubaida attacked Jamila, but Umma stopped her, defending Jamila.
They went inside, leaving Zubaida outside, humiliated. Zainura mocked Zubaida, predicting Jamila would soon dominate Umma because of money. Zubaida insisted she wouldn’t live like Jamila, claiming she’d enjoy wealth without struggle. Zainura laughed, mocking her delusions.
Meanwhile, Sa’adah and Ummi locked their door, placed Hajiyah between them, and fell into exhausted sleep—ignoring the noise outside. Their focus was on the solution ahead of them.