Zabi Biyu Book Compelet By Amina Maaji

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AUTHOR'S NOTE & DEDICATION

Masha Allah. I extend my warmest regards to everyone and express my profound gratitude to Almighty Allah, who has given me the ability and strength to write this book titled ZABI BIYU (Two Choices).
As you all know, my stories and writings are always deeply rooted in real-life occurrences. This time around, I bring you a highly captivating story filled with suspense, dilemmas, entertainment, and profound life lessons—all packed within the pages of Zabi Biyu. Stay tuned to my pen as I unfold this true story for you. I wish you all the very best.

Important Notice: This is a paid book. To unlock it, your payment of 300 Naira should be deposited into the following account:

• Account Name: Amina Maaji
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• Proof of Payment: Send to 08068748984. I look forward to hearing from you, my wonderful fans!

Special Dedication

CHAPTER 1: THE DISDAIN FOR IBRAHIM

"Anty Zulaihat, your phone has been ringing off the hook for a while now, practically begging for rescue."
"Just let it be," Zulaihat replied dismissively. "That pestering man keeps calling, and I am completely drained of his meaningless, repetitive conversations."
"Haba Sis, how can you say such a thing?" Sajida countered. "Remember that Baba and the rest of the elders are the ones who matched you with this man. They clearly see that he is the right fit for you."
"Drop it, Sajida. When your own time comes, you will finally understand exactly what I am talking about. My ultimate dream has always been to be with a deeply romantic man, but look at Ibrahim—you can see his rigid disposition."
"But he is very wealthy, I've seen it myself. Why don't you just give him a chance?" Sajida pressed.
"For God's sake, stop bringing up Ibrahim to me! I don't even want to hear his name mentioned. How can anyone expect someone like me to be matched with a giant brute like Ibrahim? He is nowhere near the kind of choice I want for my life."
"Alright, may Allah calm your heart and grant you patience," Sajida sighed. "You shouldn't approach life with such rigid resistance. May Allah protect our secrets, because honestly, I see absolutely no fault in Ibrahim. Don't forget that he travels all the way from Borno State just to come here to our town to see you. He surpasses us in wealth, lineage, and background, yet you sit here claiming you'll only look at someone you expect in your imagination. You should be ashamed."
"Let me get up and finish my chores before Meimei returns," Sajida added. "Honestly, we just need to keep you in our prayers so Allah can guide you. It's not like you are exceptionally flawless anyway—even I am prettier than you!"
"Oh, really? Is that why everyone publicly shows their affection for me while you are left cast aside?" Zulaihat snapped back.
Not wanting the argument to escalate any further, I left the space to attend to my house chores, which were far more beneficial, leaving Zulaihat with her phone in hand as she tapped away aggressively. I often found myself completely baffled by what made Zulaihat smile so much. Whenever she logged onto WhatsApp, she would burst into fits of laughter, and I couldn't fathom the immense joy she was experiencing.
She belonged to a women's group chat—specifically for married and mature women—boldly titled in capital letters: ZINARIYAR MACE (The Golden Woman). I had no idea how she managed to gain admission into that group. As someone who closely observed Zulaihat's life, I could clearly perceive that a storm of confusion and trouble was brewing in her affairs. All we could do was pray for Allah's protection.

CHAPTER 2: THE DIGITAL ENTANGLEMENT

Once I completed my chores, I headed into the kitchen to put dinner on the stove. Suddenly, I heard a voice calling out a greeting from the entrance. I answered and granted the person permission to come in. It turned out to be Safiya, Zulaihat’s close friend.
"Anty Safiya, it's you! Come on in," I welcomed her. "Is your friend inside?"
"Yes, she's inside, you can go right in," I replied before continuing with my kitchen duties, leaving them to themselves.
"Safiya, my dear! How are you?" Zulaihat greeted enthusiastically.
"I'm fine. Where is Meimei?" Safiya asked.
"She's not around, she went out for a visit but she'll be back later," Zulaihat explained.
A brief silence followed before Safiya leaned in closer. "Hey, I discovered something amazing called TikTok. I swear to God, you will enjoy it infinitely more than WhatsApp."
"Really? Let me see!" Zulaihat said excitedly.
Immediately, their entire focus shifted to Safiya's phone screen. They burst into loud, uncontrollable laughter over the videos. While some videos brought them pure amusement, others provoked irritation, yet they spent hours wasting their precious time on content that offered absolutely no real value to their lives.
"Set it up on my phone too, please!" Zulaihat begged.
"Do you have data?" Safiya asked.
"Of course I do! You know my phone is never lacking data."
"Hand it over then."
Safiya set up the account instantly, causing Zulaihat to literally jump with excitement. "So you've just been keeping your eyes starved of this entertainment!" Safiya laughed. "Now, put up a profile picture."
"I'll use Sajida's photo," Zulaihat decided. "You know that girl is exceptionally beautiful and possesses a very calm, poised look. If I use my own photo, it might take forever to get a large number of followers."
Without hesitation, she uploaded Sajida's picture. In fact, most of the photos Zulaihat used across her digital spaces belonged to Sajida. She and Safiya spent a long time making dance videos and uploading them. They remained completely absorbed in this activity until the call to prayer echoed through the neighborhood, yet neither of them made a move to get up.
"Anty Safiya, aren't you going to pray?" I called out from the hallway. "Time is slipping away rapidly."
"We are coming, Sajida the Ustaziya (pious one)!" they mocked.
It was nearly 5:00 PM by the time they finally emerged from the room. I remained seated quietly in the corner. According to our household etiquette, whenever a family member received a guest, no one else was expected to crowd the space—even if it was a mutual friend. Once initial pleasantries were exchanged, everyone would retreat to Meimei's section of the house until the visitor departed. It was almost 6:00 PM by the time Safiya finally headed home. Shortly after her departure, Meimei returned, and I welcomed her back warmly.
I noticed that Zulaihat hadn't touched her food at all. Her phone was glued directly in front of her face as her fingers flew across the screen. I quietly picked up my Qur'an and began to recite, leaving her to her devices. Every now and then, she would burst into loud laughter. Initially, her behavior deeply irritated me, but I eventually chose to completely ignore her. She didn't fall asleep until 2:00 AM, and even then, when I woke up to plug in my phone because power had been restored, I saw her plugging hers in too, completely drained from the day's scrolling.
The next morning, I woke up and went about my household duties. I overheard Meimei asking about Zulaihat's whereabouts, and I told her she was still in her room.
"Anty, Meimei says you should come and handle the cooking in the kitchen," I called out to her.
"I was enjoying my peace, and now you're coming to tell me to go cook?" Zulaihat grumbled. "Why don't you guys just drink tea for now? I am not eating anything until 10:00 AM anyway."
In reality, she rarely had breakfast before 11:30 AM. Her claim about eating at ten didn't surprise me, but her suggestion that the family should just survive on tea did. Not wanting Meimei to start scolding us, I quickly stepped into the kitchen myself and finished the cooking within an hour, dishing out her portion for her.
Her bathing routine was equally fixed: on days when she had school, she would be clean and ready by 6:30 AM; on free days, she wouldn't touch water until 8:00 AM.
Ever since Safiya introduced her to TikTok, everything else faded into the background. The hours she used to spend on Facebook or WhatsApp were now entirely consumed by TikTok. Her presence grew rapidly, and she became quite popular on the platform. It was through this app that she crossed paths with a man named Abduljalal.
The two quickly fell into a deep, intense digital romance. They moved their conversations from TikTok to Facebook, WhatsApp, and long voice calls. Through him, she also formed new online friendships with people like Teemah Yusuf.

CHAPTER 3: THE CONFRONTATION

On a bright Sunday morning, Ibrahim arrived at our house. I was genuinely thrilled to see him because it had been over three months since his last visit.
"Anty, honestly, Ibrahim has grown even more handsome!" I whispered to Zulaihat. "Just look at him."
"So what?" she scoffed. "I don't find him attractive at all. You're only singing his praises because you're the one who wants him."
"Wallahi, Anty, you are going to regret this deeply," I warned her seriously. "Don't let these social media people poison your mind and blind you. I am genuinely terrified of where this path is taking you."
"What business is it of yours, Sajida?" she snapped angrily. "Stop meddling in my life. You know how the world works today; love cannot be forced. If you are secretly in love with him, just come out and say it so I can finally be free of your endless lecturing!"
Meanwhile, in the living room, Ibrahim looked at Zulaihat with pure admiration. "Wow, my princess! Your appearance today is absolutely breathtaking. You look just like a queen. How was your journey? How is everyone back home?"
"Everyone sends their warmest regards to you," she replied smoothly, but her eyes never left her screen.
Suddenly, her phone buzzed. She picked it up immediately. A voice on the other end murmured, "Hello baby, check your WhatsApp. I just sent you something, look at it and give me your answer."
She immediately switched apps to check the message, seeing that the sender was online. As she opened it, a wide smile spread across her face, leading into an outright giggle as she typed her reply. Ibrahim sat right there watching her entire demeanor change. Despite her clear lack of attention, he couldn't find it in his heart to be angry with her. He loved Zulaihat so deeply that he felt every beat of his heart was entirely tethered to hers. Over an hour passed without her uttering a single word to him.
Unable to take it any longer, Ibrahim spoke up softly, "Zulaihat, please put the phone aside so we can conclude our conversation first."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she mumbled carelessly. "I was just attending to something important elsewhere."
Ibrahim took a deep breath, looking at her intently. "When do you see us finally getting married? Or should we plan for the end of this year? I am completely certain of your love for me..."

CHAPTER 4: UNSEEN ILLUSIONS

What kind of response will Zulaihat give him now? Especially since she is caught in a web of love that is incredibly difficult to untangle. A massive storm of confusion is brewing between the stable reality of Ibrahim and the digital allure of Abduljalal. As for me, my heart remains firmly with Ibrahim...

BOOK ONE (PAID BOOK: 300 NAIRA / FREE PAGES 1–10)

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  A Special Tribute: Let everyone bear witness that I dedicate this piece of writing to two deeply trustworthy individuals: ABBA MD MUHAMMAD (DON DADA). May Allah's boundless blessings follow your lives until the very end. May He expand your intellect, wisdom, and honor above your enemies and detractors. ABBA MD, I joyfully celebrate you and your current meaningful relationship. May Allah elevate your status and take absolute charge of your affairs. Thank you, and congratulations!
  Author's Warning: Do not forget that Zabi Biyu is strictly based on a real-life event. I have not altered the core truth of what transpired; if anything, I scaled down some details. It is a narrative encompassing heartbreak, deep regret, betrayal, abuse, and the heavy burden of hindsight, balanced with vital life lessons and entertainment. Keep following my pen; I am entirely yours, supported by you, my trusted readers.

  "Haba Ibrahim! Give us some time to fully understand each other first," Zulaihat said, trying to deflect. "Of course I care about you. After all the long months I've spent carrying the weight of your affection, Allah finally made my parents see my situation, and their choice aligns perfectly with mine."
  "Please forgive me," Ibrahim said gently, noticing her rising agitation. "I only wanted to lay bare the depth of my devotion to you, which is why I am so eager to protect your honor and dignity. But today, I notice your heart is completely consumed by your phone. Or is there something else?"
  "What else could there possibly be?" she snapped.
  "Alright, then just say the words out loud. Confess that you love me, rather than just telling me you 'care'," Ibrahim requested.
  "Ibrahim, I love you deeply and truly," Zulaihat lied smoothly.
  A wave of profound relief and joy washed over Ibrahim’s face, and he couldn't hide his happiness. "I must be on my way now," he said, standing up. "Take this money to buy airtime."
  "Thank you so much," Zulaihat smiled broadly.
  Her heart danced with joy as he left, not because she valued his presence, but because she immediately planned to use the 2,000 Naira airtime he gave her to send data to Abduljalal. Before leaving the compound, Ibrahim detoured to Meimei’s section and generously gifted them a substantial sum of 10,000 Naira. Meanwhile, I sneaked into the bathroom to count the personal cash envelope Ibrahim had slipped to me—it was a staggering 50,000 Naira! I was ecstatic. I had never been someone obsessed with spending money, but lately, I found myself appreciating financial security more than ever.
  Suddenly, I heard Ibrahim’s voice outside greeting Meimei goodbye. "Meimei, I'll be leaving now. I want to avoid driving late into the night because of my eye strain."
  "May Allah protect you on the road," Meimei prayed. "Extend our warmest regards to Hajiya Fatsuma. May Allah keep you safe."
  Not wanting Meimei to notice her complete indifference, Zulaihat reluctantly escorted Ibrahim to the front gate where his car was parked. In her mind, she was practically counting the seconds, praying for his car to speed away so she could check if Abduljalal had left her an unread notification. The moment his engine started and he drove off, she bolted back into the house.
  She grabbed her phone and headed out toward a local POS agent to deposit the rest of her cash into her bank account, knowing Meimei wouldn't question her about how much money Ibrahim had gifted her. She purchased 5,000 Naira worth of airtime, walked back into the house, and immediately bumped into Sajida.
  "Anty, so he's gone? I hope you properly escorted him out," Sajida noted.
  "Why wouldn't I, you little spy?" Zulaihat scoffed. "Mind your own business and stay out of my way. What exactly do you want to become in this life, Sajida, with your constant surveillance?"
  "I ask for your forgiveness, Anty," Sajida said softly. "I don't mean any harm or disrespect. I only wish the absolute best for you. Allah has blessed you with incredible favor and attraction, but you are failing to anchor your heart. I swear to God, this reckless path will only lead you to destruction."
  "Get out of my face and let me pass!" Zulaihat barked. "I've heard enough of your preachings."
  She stormed past her. She didn't even bother to assist with any household tasks. Instead, she instantly transferred 3,000 Naira worth of airtime to Abduljalal and converted the remaining 2,000 Naira into a data plan for herself.
  Her love for Abduljalal was an intense, intoxicating illusion. Whenever they chatted via text, she felt as though she could go on forever without stopping. Every time he uploaded a new video on TikTok, she was the first to like and comment, and he would always reply to her affectionately. She was drowning in a fierce, blinding infatuation.
  One day, she typed a message to him: "Abduljalal, I think it's time we finally see each other face-to-face. It will be much better for us so we can start building our future life together. You've repeatedly told me that you love me, and I want to be certain you aren't playing games with my heart."

"I assure you, there is absolutely no deception or falsehood in my intentions toward you," he replied quickly. "But please, let us exercise a little more patience. Giving it more time will allow us to truly understand each other's core character, don't you think?"
"That's fine," Zulaihat replied blindly to her screen. "No matter what your reality is, I will marry you. Absolutely no one on this earth can alter my decision."
"Even if I am a crippled man?" Abduljalal tested.
"Yes! Even if I myself were blind!" she declared passionately. "May Allah spare our lives to see that day. Amen."
Abduljalal was a master of words; he knew exactly how to weave romantic phrases that could capture and possess her heart within mere minutes. Zulaihat began spending entire days locked away in her bedroom, completely losing her appetite for food. She never posted her own real pictures on her profile—only Sajida's. In her mind, she knew that unless someone was completely blinded by bias, anyone would choose Sajida's looks over hers. Yet, ironically, Sajida didn't possess a fraction of the digital popularity and male attention that Zulaihat commanded online.
One evening, Meimei walked into the room and looked at her with deep concern. "Hello, Zulaihat. What exactly has been wrong with you these past few days? You do nothing but lock yourself in this room, constantly glued to that phone. Who on earth are you speaking with night and day?"
"Meimei, it's just Ibrahim," Zulaihat lied smoothly, avoiding eye contact.
I stood right there and locked eyes with Zulaihat. Her blatant lie and sheer audacity filled me with such intense irritation that I couldn't help but let out a sharp, mocking laugh.
Meimei, oblivious to the truth, smiled warmly. "Well, that's beautiful then. May Allah unite your hearts in goodness."
"Amen, Ya Rabbi," Zulaihat muttered.
Meimei left the room, and Zulaihat remained seated for a moment, though her entire attention was pulled back to her phone. Just then, Safiya called her line.
"What's up, Safiya?" Zulaihat answered.
"My friend, I have massive news for you! I'm coming over right now," Safiya said urgently.
Meimei overheard the conversation as she walked past the corridor. "Where do you think you are going at this hour?" she questioned Zulaihat.
"I'm not going anywhere, Meimei. It's Safiya who is coming over here to see me," Zulaihat explained.
Within a few minutes, Safiya arrived. "My dearest friend and sister! How are you?" she gushed. "Look, I have been completely swept off my feet! I met this incredible guy online named Faruq. You need to see him!"
"Wow, he is extremely handsome!" Zulaihat admired, looking at the picture. "Where did you guys connect?"
"On TikTok, of course!" Safiya beamed. "I am so happy! And what about you? How are things going with the lover boy you've been leaning on?"
"Look at him," Zulaihat said proudly, turning her screen to show Abduljalal's photo.
"Wow! Honestly, he is incredibly fine, Masha Allah!" Safiya gasped. "But Zulaihat, you have Ibrahim on one hand, who is practically ready for marriage. What on earth drove you to fall head over heels for a stranger online?"
"Can't I just live my life exactly the way I want for once?" Zulaihat defended herself. "Don't forget that Ibrahim himself—who knows how many women he is romancing out there? Are you under the illusion that men can ever be fully trusted? Go and ask Maman Khairat, the author who wrote the book Halin Maza (The True Character of Men); she will give you the full breakdown of their nature! Let's just pray that Allah guides our choices to what is best."
"He really is handsome," Safiya repeated, staring at Abduljalal's picture. "But listen to my advice, Zulaihat: you need to start posting your own actual photos on your profile. Don't you dare upload Sajida's pictures anymore. Look at yourself—you are beautiful and lacking nothing. You don't want a situation where he finally meets you in person and realizes you are entirely different from the face he fell in love with."
"Oh, just leave that to me," Zulaihat dismissed her advice coldly. "We have made a sacred promise to each other that no matter what our physical realities are, we will stay together. Just drop it, I know exactly what I am doing."
Safiya felt the sudden chill in her friend's voice. "Well, it was just a piece of advice I thought to offer you so you can look at the situation clearly," Safiya said, standing up. "I should be heading home now."
"So early?" Zulaihat asked half-heartedly.
"Yes, because you clearly refuse to take any form of advice, as always," Safiya noted sharply. "Or perhaps you are just secretly jealous of me because Abduljalal happens to be far more attractive than your own boyfriend?"
Zulaihat chuckled dryly. "Oh, Safiya, please. You know very well that physical looks are the last thing on my mind, especially if you consider the gorgeous features and shape Allah has blessed me with. But know that I won't forget this petty comment of yours."
"Oh, come on, I was only joking with you!" Safiya tried to soften the blow. "I'm leaving now."
Zulaihat didn't even bother to escort her to the door. She headed straight into the kitchen because it was her scheduled day to cook. She forced herself to complete the tasks quickly, hurried through her ablutions, performed her prayers, and the moment she said her final salams, she lunged for her phone.
A text message from Abduljalal was waiting on her screen: "My baby, I am so sorry, but we have an emergency. We have to travel down to the village right now because we just lost my grandfather. I will be completely out of touch for about a week. I will try to send you occasional text messages because the network coverage over there is incredibly poor."
Zulaihat froze as she read the words. A heavy, suffocating silence filled the room, and she felt hot tears stinging the corners of her eyes. A whole week without hearing his voice? How on earth am I going to survive this agonizing absence?
Suddenly, the door flew open, and Sajida walked in, taking one look at her tear-stained face. "Inna Lillahi! Anty, are you seriously crying over a digital ghost? Tab! May Allah rescue your mind from this delusion. Wipe your face and get up right now—Daddy is summoning you to the living room. Ibrahim’s family has arrived, and they are about to officially fix your wedding date..."

CHAPTER 5: THE CRUSHING MANDATE

The sheer panic that gripped Zulaihat’s heart over Abduljalal’s absence was instantly compounded by a terrifying reality: her father, Alhaji Usman, had taken absolute control.
With a heavy heart and trembling legs, I walked into the main living room. Daddy answered my greeting, but my stomach was churning with intense anxiety.
"Come and sit down, my daughter," Daddy said warmly. "How are you? Why does your body look so frail and spiritless?"
"It's nothing, Daddy," I whispered, keeping my eyes glued to the floor.
"The reason I instructed Sajida to fetch you is simple," Daddy commenced. "It has been exactly six months since you completed your studies, and Ibrahim has officially consented to take you as his wife. Based on the disciplined upbringing and values I have instilled in you, I want to inform you that I am inviting his parents to come over so we can grant them formal permission to seek your hand in marriage. The very moment they arrive, I will establish the final wedding date. Keep this firmly in your mind."
A wave of absolute horror washed over me, and I jolted my head up in shock. "Daddy... marriage already?"
"Yes, Zulaihat!" Daddy’s tone sharpened instantly. "Are you not the one who claimed to love him? Why are you widening your eyes at me as if you've just received a death sentence?"
"Daddy... please give me just a little more time," I pleaded, tears threatening to spill. "I want to be the one to personally inform you when I am fully ready."
"Listen to me, girl!" Daddy bellowed, his voice echoing through the walls. "Do you think you gave birth to us, or are we your parents? Let me make this explicitly clear to you right now: as long as I draw breath on this earth, Ibrahim will be your husband, whether you like it or whether you don't! You worthless girl, if not for sheer disrespect, what else would make you hesitate when a honorable man like Ibrahim has shown explicit interest in you? Get up and get out of my sight, I am completely done speaking!"
He didn't give me a single second to voice my thoughts, let alone confess who my heart truly belonged to. If he had only asked me who I loved, I would have proudly shouted my lover’s name to the heavens. I stumbled back to my room, completely drained of energy, feeling a slow, agonizing pain crushing my heart. How could I possibly spend the rest of my life bound to a man who didn't ignite a single spark in my soul?
When I walked back into our bedroom, Sajida was quietly eating her food. She didn't utter a word to question my distressed state, and I similarly refused to ask her why she was maintaining such a rigid silence.
Unable to bear it, I finally broke the silence. "Sajida, can't you see that I just returned from a devastating meeting?"
"You made it clear that you despise my counsel," Sajida replied calmly, putting her plate aside. "You explicitly ordered me to stop meddling in your affairs, so I have completely stepped back."
She didn't speak to me or look my way for the rest of the evening, eventually turning over to sleep. I lay awake through the entire dawn. The sheer weight of anxiety and grief completely robbed me of sleep. My mind was entirely consumed by thoughts of Abduljalal; he was my only anchor, yet he was completely unreachable.
When morning arrived, I dragged my exhausted body to greet Daddy. He answered me normally, his mind completely at peace, but there was absolutely no loophole for me to reopen the conversation. I quietly retreated back to my corner.
Meanwhile, across town at Safiya's house, her mother was giving her instructions. "Safiya, I want you to run an errand for me shortly down to Zulaihat’s house. Why are you frowning?"
"I don't really feel like going there, Mother," Safiya grumbled. "Zulaihat has traveled down to Kaduna anyway."
"Even if she isn't around, Sajida is there, and my primary errand is actually to deliver a package to Meimei," her mother insisted. "Take Haneefa along with you if you want company."
Safiya had been deeply offended by Zulaihat's arrogant remarks during their last encounter, but under her mother's strict compulsion, she reluctantly walked into our compound. When she entered, she barely acknowledged my presence, coldly brushing past me to head straight into the living room to deliver the message to Meimei.
The sheer pettiness of her behavior actually amused me, and I couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Anty, why is Anty Safiya treating you with such a cold shoulder today?" Sajida asked, witnessing the cold exchange.
"Oh, just leave her be," Zulaihat sniffed carelessly. "I simply pointed out the obvious truth that my boyfriend is infinitely more handsome than hers, and she went ahead and turned it into a monumental crisis. If she chooses to ignore me, that's entirely her business; it's her own funeral."
"I think you are completely in the wrong here, Anty," Sajida said constructively. "You should swallow your pride, go to her, and sincerely apologize."
"Apologize for what exactly?" Zulaihat scoffed. "If she wants to remain dramatic, let her stay that way."
Later that evening, Safiya walked past us again on her way out, and despite me attempting to smooth things over by making light conversation, she completely iced me out. My temper flared, but I forced myself to lower my voice. "Look, Safiya, I am sorry, okay? I will gladly follow your advice from now on. You have absolutely no issues with me, Insha Allah."
Hearing this, Safiya’s rigid posture relaxed, and she finally smiled. We had a brief, lighthearted chat before she finally departed for her house. Her temporary silence hadn't truly shattered my spirit, because my soul was dealing with a far more devastating silence—the complete radio silence from Abduljalal.

CHAPTER 6: THE TRAP IS SPRUNG

The next morning, the household was filled with an unusual, chaotic energy. I noticed that the kitchen was bustling with the preparation of an elaborate feast, featuring multiple varieties of high-end traditional delicacies. The sheer scale of the cooking filled my heart with a dark, impending dread.
Around 11:00 AM, two luxury vehicles pulled up smoothly directly in front of our main gates. A group of distinguished elderly men dressed in grand, flowing traditional attire stepped out and headed directly toward Daddy’s private wing. Sajida, who had clearly been keeping secrets from me, maintained a strict silence, refusing to tip me off about what was unfolding. What truly shattered my nerves was watching Sajida continuously carry heavy trays of food and drinks into the guest parlor.
Inside the parlor, Ibrahim's elders smiled warmly as Sajida served them. "Is this our beautiful prospective daughter-in-law?" one of the elders inquired.
"Oh no, this is Sajida, named after my own mother," one of our family elders clarified. "The bride-to-be is inside."
After the guests had successfully cleared the feast, a formal clearing of throats echoed through the room, signaling the commencement of the official marital negotiations.
"We have formally come to seek Ibrahim’s marriage to your daughter," the spokesperson announced. "Having closely observed the dignity, honor, and elite background of this household, we are profoundly grateful."
"We accept your proposal with open arms," Daddy beamed with pride. "Since you have come fully prepared, it is only proper that we establish a definitive conclusion right now and seal this union."
I was standing just outside the corridor holding a glass plate when those words reached my ears. A sharp, violent gasp escaped my throat, and the plate slipped from my numb fingers, shattering into a thousand pieces against the concrete floor.
But inside the parlor, the elders were so completely absorbed in their celebratory chatter that no one even noticed the sound of the breaking porcelain. I stood there drowning in a sea of absolute panic and heartbreak. O Allah, why couldn't these elders belong to Abduljalal? If only it were him, my heart would be bursting with ultimate joy...
To be continued in Book Two...

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