Malam Nura stood in the middle of his courtyard, dressed in a large, flowing robe (*babbar riga*) and reeking of the pungent perfume he had doused himself in. He held his head high like a proud lizard, took two strides, stopped, flared his nostrils, and called out to his senior wife.
"Haule!" He called once. On the second call, she answered and emerged from her room. Seeing him puffed up with self-importance, she found a small stool, sat down, and watched his "royal" display with silent observation. He didn't even spare her a glance before calling his second wife.
"Kuluwa! Kuluwa! Kuluwa!" There was total silence, as if Malam were a hawk calling to a bird that wasn't even home. He turned to Haule and asked, “Has Kuluwa gone out?”
Haule was filled with annoyance, but she suppressed it and replied, “Why ask the duck for the way to the river? You should ask the chicken; it knows the way home.”
Her words hit him like hot coals. He flared up in anger, shouting, “Stop right there, Haule! I only asked if Kuluwa was out, not for your bitter remarks! You’re like a parrot—once asked a simple question, you start reciting proverbs as if you’re the one who cut the umbilical cord of the Hausa land!”
She ignored him completely. Seeing this, he pressed further: “Am I not talking to you, Haule? Why is it that you women don't protect the paradise that lies beneath your husband's feet? Is it right for you to disregard me like this?”
Upset, Haule snapped back: “You asked, I answered, and you called it a bitter remark. You aren't a leper or blind. Kuluwa’s room is right there; why don't you go see if she’s inside? You are her husband, yet you’re asking me if she went out? If she did, she’s obligated to tell *you*, not me!”
Before she could finish, he cut her off: "Fine! I don't have time for this chatter. I’m going to see the new bride. If you want trouble, look for it alone—even a dog doesn't bark at itself!" He turned, adjusted his robe, and headed toward Kuluwa's room, calling her name repeatedly.
Kuluwa had heard everything, but she intentionally refused to answer. He lifted the curtain of her room and saw her sitting in the middle of the floor with a silver bowl in front of her, illuminated by a lamp. She gave him a disdainful look before returning her gaze to her bowl. She was drinking *garri* mixed with peanuts. She took a large spoonful, swallowed, and before he could speak, she said:
“Nura, when did I become your age-mate?”
He stammered, “Kuluwa, when did I...”
She stood up and interrupted, “I swear, if you provoke me, I will report you to the village head and make you pay me compensation!”
He stared at her, baffled. “Did I kill you that I should pay compensation?”
She sneered, “I’m warning you: let your chameleon avoid my branch! Because...”
"Enough, mother of jealousy!" he cut her off. “Come out, I have something to say to both of you. Haule is out already, but you can’t hide your jealousy. Just know this: the wedding is happening. If people didn't get married, I wouldn't have married you!”
He stormed out, and she followed him, fuming. He stood by Haule, who was already waiting. Kuluwa arrived and stood with her hands on her hips, tossing her head like someone ready for a fight. Malam Nura cleared his throat loudly.
"Without wasting time, because I have a 'bride-in-waiting' to see, I’ve gathered you to say that next Saturday is my wedding day. I repeat: whoever wants to remain in this house must obey me and prepare to welcome the new bride." He grinned widely, as if he had been promised a place in heaven.
Haule gave a mocking little laugh. "May Allah make it a blessing. May she arrive in peace and may there be harmony." She stood up to leave calmly.
Malam was surprised by her lack of reaction. “Haule! It’s as if you don't love me. I’m telling you about a co-wife, and you’re as calm as a wet rag in a jar?”
She cheered mockingly. “Honestly, Malam, you make me laugh. If it were new, I’d be shocked. What night has a bat not seen? Only the night of its death! If I recall, this will be my eighteenth co-wife.”
"Eighteen?!" Malam gasped.
She nodded. “Indeed.”
He went quiet for a moment. “Ah, I remember now. I thought it was seventeen, but I forgot Ladiyo. She only stayed three days before we divorced, so I leave her out of the count.”
Haule interrupted, “So, for a woman who has seen eighteen co-wives, what is one more? To me, your new marriage is easier than drinking water.”
He smiled, but Kuluwa pounced on him, huffing like a sprinter. “Of course she doesn't care! She knows the jealousy won't hit her; it hits *me*, the current 'new' wife. That’s why she’s calm!”
Haule pointed a finger at Kuluwa. "Watch yourself and stay out of my way! A camel's tail is far from the ground, and I am no pushover. A blind man doesn't play near a well!" She turned to Malam Nura and held out her palm. “Give me my 'news-breaking' money for the new marriage.”
Malam quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out two 500-naira notes. He gave one to Haule, who took it and went to her room. When he offered the other to Kuluwa, she sneered, “Only 500 naira for news of a co-wife?”
"Take it or leave it," he said firmly. “I used to give Haule two 50-naira notes, and she’d thank me!”
Haule turned back from her doorway. "Don't open a fig and talk about its insides! You gave me that 500 because I’m respected. I remember when you gave me 50 naira worth of kuli-kuli (peanut cake) as 'news money' when you married Hafiza. I took it and wished you well. I’ve seen yesterday, I see today, and I’ll see tomorrow in this house. There’s a reason every woman comes and goes, but I remain." She swept into her room.
Malam turned to Kuluwa. “If patience were a person, it’s Haule. That’s why I never divorce her; she doesn't stress me when I want a new wife.”
Kuluwa, still stinging from being called a "retired bride" compared to the "bride-in-waiting," snapped, “So I’m an old hand now? You’ve sucked the mango dry and thrown the seed for the flies to swarm, eh?”
He squinted slyly. “Did I lie?”
She was speechless. He handed her the 500 naira, and she snatched it, tearing it into eight pieces in a rage.
"You’ve only hurt yourself," he said, unfazed. “The wedding is happening.”
"Then divorce me! I can't stay!" she screamed.
He laughed. “It’s forbidden for a woman to seek divorce without cause. Besides, you’re staying. Your father owed me 8,000 naira and couldn't pay, so he gave me your hand in marriage instead. I added 2,000 to make the 10,000 dowry. I won't waste my 10,000 naira—you’ve only been here two months!”
He walked out to see his new love, Hadiza. On the way, he bought expensive grilled meat (*tsire*) and cold sodas, skipping dinner at home to eat with her. He arrived at her house, his heart melting at the way she walked.
"Why are you staring?" she asked as she came out.
"It’s as if you’re recreated more beautifully every day," he fawned.
She sat on a chair she brought out, while he sat on a large stone nearby. He presented the meat and drinks. "A gift to impress you," he said.
Before he could finish, Hadiza grabbed the meat and sodas and put them in a bag. “Thank you! This is why you're my favorite suitor. I won't go back to my ex-husband because I know you'll spoil me.”
Malam Nura’s jaw dropped. He had bought them to share! In his mind, he thought, *'What have you done for me to deserve all that meat for yourself?'*
"Why so quiet?" she asked.
"I... I bought them for us to eat while we talk of love," he managed.
She laughed. “I’ll open it, don't worry. I hear you treat your family so well.”
He bragged, “Every week we slaughter a goat, and every day five chickens!”
She fluttered her eyes. “I love a man who provides.”
"Oh, I give each wife a whole suitcase of clothes for 'co-wife gifts.' Just now, I gave them 5,000 naira each!" he lied, thinking of the 500 naira Kuluwa had torn up.
Their conversation was interrupted by Zainaba, Hadiza’s 13-year-old daughter. Zainaba hated Malam Nura; she wanted her mother back with her father. She purposely bumped his hand, making a large piece of meat fall into the dirt.
"Oops, I didn't see!" she said mockingly.
Malam swallowed his rage. “It's fine, she's just a child.”
Zainaba glared at him and whispered to her mother, “Mama, are you eating treats without us?”
Hadiza, not wanting to share with Malam anyway, said, “Take it all, Zainaba! We’ll just eat later.”
Malam watched in horror as the girl walked away with his 4,500 naira worth of meat and soda.
"You can eat chicken when you get home, my love," Hadiza said casually.
"Yes... Samira filled a bowl for me... I'll eat when I return," he lied, his stomach growling. He looked at the meat Zainaba had dropped; she had stepped on it, crushing it into the dirt. He had planned to pick it up after Hadiza went inside to “reduce the loss.”
Hadiza asked for 2,000 naira for "breakfast money." He gave it to her without a thank you. She walked away, waving "bye-bye." Malam left, fuming. He had lost his meat, his sodas, his money, and didn't even get a good conversation.
Back home, he saw Kuluwa. Haule was in her room telling stories to the children. Malam decided to provoke Kuluwa by praising the new bride's "stature" and "walk," comparing "other women" to “heavy trucks.”
Kuluwa, realizing he was insulting her, dropped her cup of water and charged at him like a lioness.
"Nura! Who is the one who walks like a heavy truck?!" she demanded.
He saw she was blinded by jealousy. “Haba, Kuluwa! I wasn't talking about you. You walk like you're counting your steps!”
She stared at him, unconvinced. “You can't rename a bowl of tuwo. A person's character doesn't change...”
Malam Nura stood in the middle of his courtyard, dressed in a large, flowing robe (*babbar riga*) and reeking of the pungent perfume he had doused himself in. He held his head high like a proud lizard, took two strides, stopped, flared his nostrils, and called out to his senior wife.
"Haule!" He called once. On the second call, she answered and emerged from her room. Seeing him puffed up with self-importance, she found a small stool, sat down, and watched his "royal" display with silent observation. He didn't even spare her a glance before calling his second wife.
"Kuluwa! Kuluwa! Kuluwa!" There was total silence, as if Malam were a hawk calling to a bird that wasn't even home. He turned to Haule and asked, “Has Kuluwa gone out?”
Haule was filled with annoyance, but she suppressed it and replied, “Why ask the duck for the way to the river? You should ask the chicken; it knows the way home.”
Her words hit him like hot coals. He flared up in anger, shouting, “Stop right there, Haule! I only asked if Kuluwa was out, not for your bitter remarks! You’re like a parrot—once asked a simple question, you start reciting proverbs as if you’re the one who cut the umbilical cord of the Hausa land!”
She ignored him completely. Seeing this, he pressed further: “Am I not talking to you, Haule? Why is it that you women don't protect the paradise that lies beneath your husband's feet? Is it right for you to disregard me like this?”
Upset, Haule snapped back: “You asked, I answered, and you called it a bitter remark. You aren't a leper or blind. Kuluwa’s room is right there; why don't you go see if she’s inside? You are her husband, yet you’re asking me if she went out? If she did, she’s obligated to tell *you*, not me!”
Before she could finish, he cut her off: "Fine! I don't have time for this chatter. I’m going to see the new bride. If you want trouble, look for it alone—even a dog doesn't bark at itself!" He turned, adjusted his robe, and headed toward Kuluwa's room, calling her name repeatedly.
Kuluwa had heard everything, but she intentionally refused to answer. He lifted the curtain of her room and saw her sitting in the middle of the floor with a silver bowl in front of her, illuminated by a lamp. She gave him a disdainful look before returning her gaze to her bowl. She was drinking *garri* mixed with peanuts. She took a large spoonful, swallowed, and before he could speak, she said:
“Nura, when did I become your age-mate?”
He stammered, “Kuluwa, when did I...”
She stood up and interrupted, “I swear, if you provoke me, I will report you to the village head and make you pay me compensation!”
He stared at her, baffled. “Did I kill you that I should pay compensation?”
She sneered, “I’m warning you: let your chameleon avoid my branch! Because...”
"Enough, mother of jealousy!" he cut her off. “Come out, I have something to say to both of you. Haule is out already, but you can’t hide your jealousy. Just know this: the wedding is happening. If people didn't get married, I wouldn't have married you!”
He stormed out, and she followed him, fuming. He stood by Haule, who was already waiting. Kuluwa arrived and stood with her hands on her hips, tossing her head like someone ready for a fight. Malam Nura cleared his throat loudly.
"Without wasting time, because I have a 'bride-in-waiting' to see, I’ve gathered you to say that next Saturday is my wedding day. I repeat: whoever wants to remain in this house must obey me and prepare to welcome the new bride." He grinned widely, as if he had been promised a place in heaven.
Haule gave a mocking little laugh. "May Allah make it a blessing. May she arrive in peace and may there be harmony." She stood up to leave calmly.
Malam was surprised by her lack of reaction. “Haule! It’s as if you don't love me. I’m telling you about a co-wife, and you’re as calm as a wet rag in a jar?”
She cheered mockingly. “Honestly, Malam, you make me laugh. If it were new, I’d be shocked. What night has a bat not seen? Only the night of its death! If I recall, this will be my eighteenth co-wife.”
"Eighteen?!" Malam gasped.
She nodded. “Indeed.”
He went quiet for a moment. “Ah, I remember now. I thought it was seventeen, but I forgot Ladiyo. She only stayed three days before we divorced, so I leave her out of the count.”
Haule interrupted, “So, for a woman who has seen eighteen co-wives, what is one more? To me, your new marriage is easier than drinking water.”
He smiled, but Kuluwa pounced on him, huffing like a sprinter. “Of course she doesn't care! She knows the jealousy won't hit her; it hits *me*, the current 'new' wife. That’s why she’s calm!”
Haule pointed a finger at Kuluwa. "Watch yourself and stay out of my way! A camel's tail is far from the ground, and I am no pushover. A blind man doesn't play near a well!" She turned to Malam Nura and held out her palm. “Give me my 'news-breaking' money for the new marriage.”
Malam quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out two 500-naira notes. He gave one to Haule, who took it and went to her room. When he offered the other to Kuluwa, she sneered, “Only 500 naira for news of a co-wife?”
"Take it or leave it," he said firmly. “I used to give Haule two 50-naira notes, and she’d thank me!”
Haule turned back from her doorway. "Don't open a fig and talk about its insides! You gave me that 500 because I’m respected. I remember when you gave me 50 naira worth of kuli-kuli (peanut cake) as 'news money' when you married Hafiza. I took it and wished you well. I’ve seen yesterday, I see today, and I’ll see tomorrow in this house. There’s a reason every woman comes and goes, but I remain." She swept into her room.
Malam turned to Kuluwa. “If patience were a person, it’s Haule. That’s why I never divorce her; she doesn't stress me when I want a new wife.”
Kuluwa, still stinging from being called a "retired bride" compared to the "bride-in-waiting," snapped, “So I’m an old hand now? You’ve sucked the mango dry and thrown the seed for the flies to swarm, eh?”
He squinted slyly. “Did I lie?”
She was speechless. He handed her the 500 naira, and she snatched it, tearing it into eight pieces in a rage.
"You’ve only hurt yourself," he said, unfazed. “The wedding is happening.”
"Then divorce me! I can't stay!" she screamed.
He laughed. “It’s forbidden for a woman to seek divorce without cause. Besides, you’re staying. Your father owed me 8,000 naira and couldn't pay, so he gave me your hand in marriage instead. I added 2,000 to make the 10,000 dowry. I won't waste my 10,000 naira—you’ve only been here two months!”
He walked out to see his new love, Hadiza. On the way, he bought expensive grilled meat (*tsire*) and cold sodas, skipping dinner at home to eat with her. He arrived at her house, his heart melting at the way she walked.
"Why are you staring?" she asked as she came out.
"It’s as if you’re recreated more beautifully every day," he fawned.
She sat on a chair she brought out, while he sat on a large stone nearby. He presented the meat and drinks. "A gift to impress you," he said.
Before he could finish, Hadiza grabbed the meat and sodas and put them in a bag. “Thank you! This is why you're my favorite suitor. I won't go back to my ex-husband because I know you'll spoil me.”
Malam Nura’s jaw dropped. He had bought them to share! In his mind, he thought, *'What have you done for me to deserve all that meat for yourself?'*
"Why so quiet?" she asked.
"I... I bought them for us to eat while we talk of love," he managed.
She laughed. “I’ll open it, don't worry. I hear you treat your family so well.”
He bragged, “Every week we slaughter a goat, and every day five chickens!”
She fluttered her eyes. “I love a man who provides.”
"Oh, I give each wife a whole suitcase of clothes for 'co-wife gifts.' Just now, I gave them 5,000 naira each!" he lied, thinking of the 500 naira Kuluwa had torn up.
Their conversation was interrupted by Zainaba, Hadiza’s 13-year-old daughter. Zainaba hated Malam Nura; she wanted her mother back with her father. She purposely bumped his hand, making a large piece of meat fall into the dirt.
"Oops, I didn't see!" she said mockingly.
Malam swallowed his rage. “It's fine, she's just a child.”
Zainaba glared at him and whispered to her mother, “Mama, are you eating treats without us?”
Hadiza, not wanting to share with Malam anyway, said, “Take it all, Zainaba! We’ll just eat later.”
Malam watched in horror as the girl walked away with his 4,500 naira worth of meat and soda.
"You can eat chicken when you get home, my love," Hadiza said casually.
"Yes... Samira filled a bowl for me... I'll eat when I return," he lied, his stomach growling. He looked at the meat Zainaba had dropped; she had stepped on it, crushing it into the dirt. He had planned to pick it up after Hadiza went inside to “reduce the loss.”
Hadiza asked for 2,000 naira for "breakfast money." He gave it to her without a thank you. She walked away, waving "bye-bye." Malam left, fuming. He had lost his meat, his sodas, his money, and didn't even get a good conversation.
Back home, he saw Kuluwa. Haule was in her room telling stories to the children. Malam decided to provoke Kuluwa by praising the new bride's "stature" and "walk," comparing "other women" to “heavy trucks.”
Kuluwa, realizing he was insulting her, dropped her cup of water and charged at him like a lioness.
"Nura! Who is the one who walks like a heavy truck?!" she demanded.
He saw she was blinded by jealousy. “Haba, Kuluwa! I wasn't talking about you. You walk like you're counting your steps!”
She stared at him, unconvinced. “You can't rename a bowl of tuwo. A person's character doesn't change...”