Waye Mijina Book 3 Complete by Autar Alheri

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WAYE MIJINA BOOK 3 COMPELET 

Success, Regained Respect, and Secret Resolve

Alhamdulillah, the year brought me immense openings, growth, and widespread success. The projects I executed accumulated a substantial amount of wealth for me. Ya Falmata has a beautiful soul and never deceived or cheated me even once; in every step of success I take in this life, she remains the very first woman by my side, right along with Sahura, who provided me with various forms of support. Among men, however, Yaya Aminu remains my ultimate mirror and guiding light.
A week after the Eid celebrations, I prepared to visit our family home and Gwaggo’s house. Ever since I married Alhaji Muntari, I hadn't ventured into the main town more than three times.
Gwaggo was overjoyed to see me and the children in vibrant health. Her mouth could barely stay closed as she rejoiced continuously. I didn’t visit her empty-handed either; I bought and tailored a beautiful, expensive, high-quality Atamfa fabric fit for an elder, paired it with matching shoes and a veil, and placed five thousand naira on top. She poured out her gratitude until tears filled her eyes. This profoundly moved me, and tears welled up in my own eyes as well.
When I visited our family home, I was met with absolute care and adoration. I wasn't surprised in the least, because I already knew that in this day and age, nothing restores a person's dignity and respect faster than money. Since Allah has blessed me with financial abundance now, everyone treats me with utmost respect. Even our father no longer sees any faults in me; whenever we meet, he constantly sings my praises, saying, "Your marriage has been immensely blessed, Amina. Didn't I tell you he is a good man? Look at how he hasn't hidden you away; he looks after your children and allows you to run your business. Surely, the Almighty has vindicated me."
I continued my life in Alhaji Muntari’s house, pushing through the good days and the bad days alike. However, I stubbornly refused to get pregnant, employing a secret tactic whenever we had marital relations. The moment we finished, I would quickly rush to mix salt with warm water and drink it. Before dawn, everything he had discharged into me would dissolve and flush out. His constant prayer was for Allah to grant us a child together, while in my heart, I felt completely done with childbearing—the children Allah had already blessed me with were more than enough.
Once the children returned to school, my workload became overwhelming. I began brainstorming: what if I rented a shop along the main road, and had Hamusu scout for professional male tailors? I could simply install sewing machines and we could run the business together, because the demand had truly skyrocketed, and my brand name was gaining massive recognition across Nigeria and its surrounding regions.
I didn't expect my husband to grant his permission so easily. When I proposed the idea, he said, "There is no problem at all. It's a good thing your focus is returning to your marriage and productivity. I give you my permission, but ensure you are highly vigilant about the staff you hire. Find trustworthy individuals who are absolute experts at the craft." I replied, "By Allah's grace, we will find them." I thanked him profusely, knowing that if I hadn't received his unwavering support, I wouldn't have reached the heights I stood at today. Yet, my heart still refused to accept the idea of having a child with him.
While I was fully immersed in planning the expansion of my business—having already concluded discussions with Hamusu, who assured me that none of this would be an issue and that he would personally oversee everything for me—a horrifying incident suddenly crashed down upon me. In a single instant, the chaos shattered my life, plunging me into a state of absolute confusion and severe psychological trauma......✍️
GARKUWAR MATA
BY BINTA UMAR ABBALE 🍒

False Accusations and Neighborhood Uproar

Ever since the Eid festivities began, a young girl from our neighborhood had been frequenting our house. She usually spent her time over at Anti Maimuna’s section, since that was where the children gathered most. Even before I physically laid eyes on the girl, I had constantly heard her name, Ihsan, from Yusi. She was the daughter of a local food vendor, barely eight years old. Because Yusi mentioned her so frequently, I asked him to bring her to me the next time she came over so I could see her, as it seemed they had struck up a very close bond. Just like him, she wasn't shy and made friends easily; she was a very cheerful little girl. I gifted her some chocolates from the stash I always kept, and she happily ran off with Yusi toward Anti Maimuna’s quarters in high spirits.
Late in the afternoon, I was lying down, completely exhausted, mentally calculating the items I needed to purchase for the launch of my tailoring shops. Suddenly, Anti Maimuna burst into the room in a state of utter panic, screaming my name. I bolted upright, my heart hammering in fear, assuming someone had died or that our husband had met with a terrible accident.
She gasped out, "That little girl, Ihsan... she has been violated!"
My chest tightened with extreme shock. "Please don't tell me it's the little neighbor girl who always comes over to play with the children!"
"It's her," she confirmed. "The children just rushed in now, talking about it."
I began frantically reciting Inna lillahi wa'ina ilaihi raji'un (To Allah we belong and to Him we shall return), exclaiming, "A helpless seven-year-old girl? What could anyone possibly want with her? We must immediately investigate to find out who committed this monstrous abomination."
Before Anti Maimuna could reply, the girl's mother stormed into the room, weeping bitterly with the child in her arms. She screamed, "She explicitly told me it's Yusi! She said he is the one who always pulls down her underwear!"
Dazed and horrified, I stammered, "Yusi? Servant of Allah, what kind of outrageous accusation is this? What does Yusi even know about such things to commit an act like that?"
Anti Jamila, who had just walked in, opened her mouth snidely and chimed in, "Oh, you can never fully vouch for a child nowadays! He is eleven years old, mind you—he is on the very brink of puberty. A boy born just today experiences physical urges, let alone a young lad of his age!"
I instantly jumped to my feet, shouting, "You are a liar and a hypocrite! My son would never do such a thing! Look for the culprit among your own children instead!"
The girl’s mother wailed, "By Allah, I will not let this slide!"
I glared at her and snapped, "Then don't let it slide! Go ahead and do whatever you please!"
She turned and marched out of the house in a fury, with Jamila close behind her, fueling her anger and egging her on.
I collapsed to the floor, completely shattered by the trauma. Anti Maimuna placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, saying, "Amina, let's handle this calmly. I know for a fact that Yusi would never commit such idiocy. A thorough investigation must be carried out. This vile act happened right here inside this compound, in the dark corridor behind my room."
I looked up at her, tears spilling over my cheeks. "Anti Maimuna, this is not a matter to sit idly by. There is absolutely no way I will fold my arms and allow them to pin such a heinous crime on a boy who is entirely innocent!"
"I am not asking you to accept it," she soothed, "but we must tread carefully." She then left the room.

A Mob in the Compound

A few moments later, Kamalu rushed into the room panting heavily, his trouser legs rolled up, drenched in sweat. Before I could utter a word, he cut me off, saying, "We got into a violent fight with Turmuzi and Shahid, Ihsan’s older brother! They seized Yusi and are beating him mercilessly! They even grabbed a pair of scissors, claiming they are going to castrate him!"
Shocked and terrified, I gasped, "Where is Yusi?!" I suddenly realized I hadn't seen a glimpse of him since the news broke. Before Kamalu could answer, Salima ran in crying.
"Anti, the police are outside! They have arrested Yusi and are holding him right now. They are demanding to see our father. Our mother just called him on the phone, and he said he is on his way!"
I threw on my hijab in a frantic rush and bolted toward the exit, with the children following closely behind me.
The front of the house was completely swarmed with a crowd of neighbors, both children and adults. Yusi was in the custody of one of the officers, crying bitterly, while onlookers murmured and questioned what was happening.
I marched straight up to where my boy was being held and demanded, "Let him go! He is not the one who committed the crime he's being accused of!"
The officer countered coldly, "The matter is settled. The little girl explicitly stated that he is the one who pulls down her underwear when they play. Everyone here has confirmed that he is her constant playmate. You know it, and the girl's parents know it."
Scalding tears poured down my face. "By Allah, it wasn't him! How old is this boy to even conceive of such an act? Look deeper into this! He is an orphan; Allah is his protector, and I am his protector!"
The officer sneered, "Orphans are often the most wicked of all. We will not release him until our investigation is fully completed."
Yusi clutched the edge of my hijab, sobbing, "Mama, what did I do?" The poor boy didn't even comprehend why he was being detained.
The officer violently ripped Yusi's hands away from my clothes and delivered a stinging slap across his face!
"You're asking what you did, right? You'll find out exactly what your father did when we get to the station!"
Suddenly, Kamalu's voice boomed through the crowd. "To hell with your own father, you wicked bastards! May Allah avenge him!" Then, he burst into tears.
The entire area erupted into absolute chaos. Some onlookers shouted insults, saying, "That boy has always been disrespectful anyway; he's a thief and a delinquent!" while others offered expressions of pity. Seeing one of the officers make a sudden lunge to grab Kamalu, Kamalu took off running at full speed toward the east!
My head began to throb violently, as if hit by a sledgehammer. Vertigo washed over me, and I felt myself spinning. Anti Maimuna stepped in and pulled me away from the crowd. Lacking any other option, I followed her back into the house as she consoled me, telling me to keep faith because the truth would surely come to light.
I sank onto the floor, completely drained of strength. "Anti Maimuna, what am I going to do?"
"Prayer is your only remedy right now," she replied softly.
With all the strength left in me, I groaned, "Inna lillahi wa'ina ilaihi raji'un!" As I repeated the phrase over and over, a sense of calm slowly began to wash over me.
Just then, my phone rang from the master bedroom. Before I could move, Salima quickly rushed into the room, retrieved it, and handed it to me. It was Hamusu calling. I answered immediately. It was no surprise to hear from him, as bad news always travels fast and reaches places you least expect.
In a highly distressed voice, he asked if the horrific rumors he heard were true. I asked, "Who told you?" He replied directly, "It was Kamalu." I shook my head in realization; so that was where the boy had fled after standing up to the police. I sighed, "That is what the girl’s parents are claiming, Hamusu. But in the name of God, what does Yusi know about such things to commit an act like that?"
"Which police station did they take him to?" Hamusu demanded.
"Just stay put, there's no need for you to go. Salima’s father is already there. By Allah's grace, things won't escalate and the truth will prevail. Please, do not mention a word of this to Gwaggo."
"I won't tell her, In sha Allah. But Anti Amina, please let me go there. We cannot allow the world to drag our family name through the mud over a malicious frame-up!"
Wiping the streaming tears from my cheeks, I resolved, "Hamusu, if an investigation proves that these accusations against my boy are false, by Allah, I will take this to the highest court. I will absolutely not let this slide."
With deep concern, he replied, "We won't let it slide either, Anti Amina. Just tell me the station; I want to be there so everything happens in my presence."
"Let it be for now. I will call you back shortly. As of right now, I don't even know which station they took him to. But like I said, my husband is there. We will speak on the phone in a little while."
I ended the call and placed the phone beside me. I turned to Anti Maimuna and vowed fiercely, "By Allah, I will not accept this. I will take severe action against this slander plotted against me."
She remained dead silent, her entire demeanor completely subdued. Her expression suggested she was hiding something or deeply troubled, which explained why she kept urging me to just drop the matter and have patience. She had no idea the sheer agony tearing through my soul.

The Real Culprit Exposed

As we sat there—Anti Maimuna, the children, and I—engulfed in grief, my husband walked through the door, holding Yusi by the hand. We all stared at them in breathless anticipation. Seeing my boy physically unharmed made me instantly whisper praises to Allah, but it was my husband's demeanor that truly caught our attention. He sank onto a chair, looking completely drained of life, as if he had no bones left in his body. He glanced at the children and ordered them to leave. Salima and her siblings immediately filed out, and Yusi followed right behind them.
Anti Maimuna broke the silence. "It seems a resolution was reached, but you look completely devastated, as if something is terribly wrong."
"A massive problem indeed," he groaned, as tears welled up and spilled over his eyelids.
I gasped, "Did they find out who actually did it?"
He looked straight at us and confessed, "It was Turmuzi!"
We were completely struck with horror! The tears streaming down his cheeks multiplied. He took a deep breath, trying to swallow the bitter lump of shame choking him, and continued, "That boy Yusi is entirely innocent. May Allah punish those officers for the beating they gave him. What actually happened is that the little girl was so utterly confused, panicked, and terrified that she mistakenly blurted out Yusi's name because they always play together. But in reality, it was Turmuzi. Ever since she started coming to play in this compound, he would lure her into the dark corridor behind my room, pull down her underwear, and give her sweets. The girl’s father used clever tactics to gently coax the truth out of her. She wept and confessed it was Turmuzi, revealing that he had threatened to slaughter her if she ever told a soul. He had even played a violent movie on his phone to show her exactly how he would kill her with a knife."
"On that fateful day, he pulled down her underwear and pinned her down..." Innalillahi wa'ina ilaihi raji'un! My husband suddenly burst into a violent fit of weeping, shaking his head as the agonizing reality pierced his heart.
"When did Turmuzi become so depraved? When did he even hit puberty to commit such a heinous assault on someone's daughter? A fourteen-year-old boy... what does he know? And inside my own house! I have never been an adulterer or a fornicator; oh Allah, do not test me this way!" A grown man was weeping uncontrollably before us.
Our entire bodies went cold. The fierce desire for vengeance I had harbored moments ago completely evaporated as I witnessed the sheer devastation and brokenness of my husband.
Anti Maimuna asked quietly, "Where do things stand now?"
He pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his face. "The case is dead. The girl's father has withdrawn the police charges. They have taken her to the hospital; thankfully, the physical trauma is minor. The girl explained that besides violating her physically, he would use his hands on her private parts."
I lowered my head as searing, painful tears broke free and raced down my cheeks. I couldn't even remember the last time I had cried with such agonizing heartbreak. What shattered me completely wasn't just the incident itself, but how the moral upbringing of such young children was rotting away. Imagine a fourteen-year-old boy like Turmuzi committing an abomination of this magnitude!
Anti Maimuna sighed. "I am not surprised in the least. That smartphone in the boy's hands was bound to bring nothing but destruction. Long ago, I warned Jamila to confiscate that phone because it was of no use to him. He wasn't using it for any studies; he was constantly watching inappropriate things on it. He simply manipulated her into buying it by claiming it would help him with his schoolwork. It happened right in front of me, and she bought it for him. I am absolutely certain that if you audit that phone, you will find vile, explicit videos. Sometimes when he visited my quarters, he would watch things on it and refuse to let anyone near him. He would turn the volume all the way down or plug earphones into his ears."
My husband flew into a rage. Throughout all this time, he had been completely oblivious to the fact that the boy even owned a smartphone; his wife had hidden it from him when she purchased it. In his anger, he even began projecting some of the blame onto Anti Maimuna.
In the heat of the moment, Jamila walked into the room. Seeing the tense, chaotic atmosphere, her confrontational attitude softened slightly as she remarked, "I just saw Yusi outside. So a resolution was reached and they released him, then."
As she spoke, her eyes were fixed on her husband. The moment she closed her mouth, he unleashed his fury upon her. He unraveled every single secret, exposing her failures entirely, and threatened her with instant divorce if she ever dared to do anything behind his back again, asserting that the phone she bought played the primary role in destroying the boy's morality.
Refusing to accept blame, she burst into loud lamentations, screaming that her son was being framed and that she would take drastic measures to fight it. He roared back that the only measures she would take would be back in her father's house, because if she made a single attempt to leak this scandal outside, he would divorce her on the spot.
Hearing the ultimate threat, she fled the room wailing. He bolted up and pursued her. Moments later, a loud commotion erupted from her quarters, accompanied by the piercing screams of Turmuzi.
We all rushed to the scene. He had grabbed a thick wooden stick and was beating the boy mercilessly with it, completely bloodying his nose. Driven by the agonizing pain, the boy finally confessed, screaming that he was indeed the one who did it, but begged that he would never do it again. With great difficulty, I wrestled the wooden stick out of my husband's grip, while Anti Maimuna held him back.
Right at that moment, Jamila collapsed onto the floor, thrashing and convulsing in a strange manner that instantly made it clear to us that she was experiencing a spiritual possession (aljanu). My husband didn't even pause; he grabbed the phone he had confiscated from the boy and stormed out of the house. Anti Maimuna and I stood over her, reciting protective verses and prayers over her until the spirits released their grip and she fell into a deep sleep.

A New Panic: Kamalu is Missing

When we finally stepped back outside, I turned to Anti Maimuna, my body still trembling from the shock. "Does Anti Jamila suffer from spiritual possessions?"
"She does," she replied, "but they don't manifest frequently. They usually trigger during moments of extreme joy or intense grief. Even when she gives birth, they flare up repeatedly until after the naming ceremony."
I shook my head in sheer amazement. It certainly made sense when considering her volatile personality. She was always chaotic, untrustworthy, deeply vindictive, and consumed by an arrogant, toxic pride.
It wasn't until after the Isha prayers that my mind finally began to settle. Yusi walked into the room and sat close to me, his spirits entirely crushed. I looked at him gently and asked, "You went to the mosque, right?"
He nodded, and then asked anxiously, "Mama, where is my older brother? As I was leaving the mosque just now, I overheard some people saying the police arrested him because he insulted them."
"He is over at Gwaggo’s house," I reassured him. "They are lying. I am about to call Hamusu on the phone right now to bring him back home."
He let out a deep, relieved sigh and relaxed his posture. I quickly picked up my phone and dialed Hamusu’s number.
He answered, and after exchanging brief greetings, he anxiously asked for an update on the situation.
I told him, "Hamusu, everything has been resolved smoothly. Yusi has been sitting right here in front of me for a while now; they released him because the truth finally came to light."
He let out a massive sigh of relief, thanking Allah, before asking, "So they've apprehended the actual culprit, right?"
"Yes," I replied evasively, "an investigation is currently underway." I deliberately chose not to expose that it was the boy from this very household; doing so would feel like publicly humiliating my husband, especially after the honorable stand he took to ensure the truth was revealed.
I continued, "Please, since you have a vehicle, pick up Kamalu on your motorcycle and bring him to me. Don't let him travel back by himself. Besides, there are urgent matters I want us to discuss regarding the launch of my tailoring shops."
"What do you mean?" Hamusu replied, surprised. "Kamalu isn't here. Ever since he rushed over to tell me what was happening, I haven't laid eyes on him. Hasn't he returned home yet?"
My heart violently dropped into my stomach. "By Allah, he hasn't returned! Please, quickly rush to our family home and see if he is there!"
He hurriedly hung up the phone.
Yusi looked up at me anxiously. "Mama, what's wrong? Where is my brother?"
Choking back my mounting terror, I said, "He is at our family home. Your uncle is going to pick him up right now."
He let out another deep sigh. I sat there, my mind racing with a million terrifying thoughts, completely unable to find peace. Moments later, Hamusu called back, confirming that Kamalu was absolutely not at our family home.
"Did you see Saminu at the house?" I pressed frantically.
"Yes, I did," he replied. "He is actually the one who confirmed to me that Kamalu hasn't been there. He didn't even drop by to visit after the prayers."
My entire body went numb as a dark, suffocating dread washed over me. Initially, I hadn't read too much into his absence, but now, the most horrific scenarios began to flood my mind. I gasped, "Hamusu, let me speak to my husband right now. I will call you back in a moment."
I slammed the phone down, sprang to my feet, and rushed toward my husband’s quarters—even though it wasn't my designated night. Yusi bolted up, hot tears streaming down his face, and ran right after me....✍️