At approximately 6:00 AM on a Sunday morning, the neighborhood was completely dead silent. Not a single sound could be heard except for the rustling of the blowing wind. The street was as quiet as if no living soul resided near the area. After two minutes had passed, a sleek black car drove onto the street, its driver clearly in a frantic hurry. Moments later, the car abruptly braked right at the corner of a small alleyway. Inside the car, a young woman who could not be more than twenty years old sat in the passenger seat. Turning around, she looked at the older man in the driver's seat and said, "Alhaji, I will walk the rest of the way home. You know how the people of this neighborhood are. If another soul spots me with you, that's it—I am completely finished." He let out a short laugh, glanced back at her, and said, "Come on, Hanee Baby. What I love about you is also what drives me crazy—your extreme fear. So what if you went out and had a good time?" She narrowed her eyes into a harsh scowl and placed her hand on the car door handle, preparing to leave. Moving with rapid reflexes, Alhaji Saminu grabbed her hand, pleading, "Hold on, hold on! Hanee Baby, please don't be angry. I'll stop teasing you. Bring your bag so I can insert the payment for your merchandise." She ignored him, acting as if she hadn't heard a word. Smiling with the practiced charm of a seasoned playboy, he picked up the handbag resting on her lap. He reached into the glove compartment, pulled out a thick, bundled stack of crisp five-hundred-naira notes, stuffed it into her bag, and handed it back to her. She snatched it and exited the vehicle without uttering a single word. In truth, only her physical body was present on that street; her spirit was completely consumed by anxiety, projecting the terrifying consequences if anyone were to catch sight of her. She was clad in a black abaya, but underneath it, she wore tight, form-fitting top and trousers—a detail one would only notice upon incredibly close inspection. The moment she stepped out, a biting morning cold pierced through her limbs, seeping straight into her bones. She began casting frantic glances left and right. Seeing that the coast was clear, she hurried into their alleyway, moving in a half-running, frantic pace. What she completely failed to realize was that from the very moment the Alhaji parked his car, Mamuda S/M was sitting directly across the street, watching their every move. Ever since the Fajr dawn prayer concluded, every resident had hurried back inside their homes and locked their doors due to the severe morning cold. But not Mamuda. He had spread a small piece of cloth on the ground and sat out in the open, huddled tightly against the freezing wind. He absolutely refused to go inside, purely out of deep-seated malice and nosiness, determined not to let a single soul pass by or commit an act without him witnessing it. Watching Hanifa slip into the alleyway, he stood straight up and muttered aloud, "Ha! So it turns out we’ve been looking at a hyena disguised in a sheep's skin! So this girl is a wild party animal after all? No wonder..." He let out a delighted, wicked chuckle, sat back down, and gloated, "That’s investigative report number one secured. Let me sit tight, maybe I'll collect a few more to add to the pile." When Hanifa reached her house, she found the front gate firmly locked from the inside, exactly as she had anticipated. She quickly skirted around the building to a secret bypass she had personally designated for emergencies. With her heart pounding in terror, she stepped onto a loose stone, scaled the perimeter wall, and dropped silently into the compound with a soft thud. She let out a massive sigh of relief. "Hmmm!" Stepping quietly on her tiptoes, she snuck toward their room. As she crept past Inna’s quarters, she assumed they were all deep in their usual, counterproductive morning slumber. After all, her father, Baba, never bothered with the dawn prayer; on a good day, he wouldn't pray until 8:00 AM, let alone discipline any of his children for oversleeping. She was barely five paces away from slipping safely into her bedroom when a voice sliced through the silence behind her like a sudden thunderclap. "Good grief... So you didn't sleep at home last night, huh?" It was the voice of her older brother, Mankas, speaking in the coarse, menacing tone of a local thug. Hanifa froze, completely struck with panic. He stepped closer, cornering her. "Where are you coming from? Just wait until Baba wakes up. There’s going to be a massive drama show in this house today." Knowing her brother's volatile and greedy nature, she hardened her expression, turned to him, and whispered sharply, "That is my exact problem with you—you can never keep a secret. Look, I’ll bribe you right now, and you will cover for me." "Aww, excellent! Now you’re finally treating yourself fairly, girl," he sneered. She unzipped her handbag, reaching inside to fish out some money while he leaned his head forward, shamelessly leering into the bag. The moment his eyes caught sight of the massive stack of cash, his mouth fell open like an absolute fool. Just as he opened his mouth to shout, she slapped a one-thousand-naira note into his palm and snapped, "Take this. Now, are you going to return my peace of mind or what?" "If you think I'll accept this, may Allah curse me! I see a fortune in that bag and you dare hand me a measly one thousand naira? Do you think this pocket change is enough to buy my daily data data bundle? Especially today when the gang has a major street operation to execute since morning!" She jutted out her large lip in a heavy pout and complained, "Oh come on, Mankas! Do you have any idea the immense hardship I had to endure just to get this money?" "Fine. Keep your pocket change in your bag. Let me go wake Baba right now." He raised his voice, bellowing across the courtyard, "Baba! Baba!!" In a frantic panic, her voice trembling, Hanifa hissed, "For Allah's sake, Mankas, shut up! I’ll add more!" "Now you're being sensible." Grumbling under her breath and muttering curses too low for him to catch, she pulled out an additional two thousand naira and handed it over. She had absolutely no intention of giving him that much, but knowing the relentless harassment Mankas was capable of, she knew she had no choice. She dashed into her room, whispering viciously to herself, "Absolute parasite. Ya Abba is a thousand times better than you; he actually keeps my secrets, we kill the matter and bury it, and nobody ever finds out. But you? For a worthless sum, you’re trying to bring a cursed beating down on my head." She stepped into their bedroom. A single glance around the room made it glaringly obvious that this was a deeply impoverished household. The walls were bare, exposed mud bricks without a single layer of plaster, and sections of the structure had already begun to crumble and peel away. She quickly stripped off her abaya along with the tight top and trousers, rolled them tightly into a bundle, and stuffed them deep into the very bottom of her clothing trunk. She then pulled out a ragged, faded wrapper that looked as though it hadn't seen soap or water in months. Tying it securely across her chest, she climbed onto their tattered, bare mattress that lacked even a basic bedsheet. She huddled into a tight corner, taking care not to wake her two younger sisters who were sleeping soundly on the same mattress. As she sat there, she began quietly counting the money she had collected from her sugar daddy. Suddenly, she heard a rustle from one of the younger children sleeping on a woven mat on the floor. In a flash, she shoved the cash back into her bag, slammed her eyes shut, and pretended to be fast asleep, while her mind spun with endless calculations of all the things she would buy with her fortune. Once the daylight broke completely, Inna emerged from her room, adjusting her wrapper across her chest. She picked up a plastic kettle and headed to the backyard restroom. After exiting, she sat in the middle of the courtyard, performed her ablutions, and went back inside to perform her late dawn prayer. Up until that hour, Mudi (Baba) had not even stirred from his sleep, let alone thought about prayer or going out to earn a living. It was nearly 10:00 AM when he finally dragged himself out of bed and performed his prayers. When Inna approached him to ask for money to buy breakfast, he sneered, "Today, I don't even have a single penny to my name. Go meet the person you're usually accustomed to collecting money from." Inna didn't bother arguing with him. She turned on her heel and marched straight into Hanifa’s room. By then, all the other children were awake, except for Hanifa, who was busy catching up on the sleep she had lost the previous night. Inna reached out and aggressively shook her shoulder. "Hanifa! Hanifa!! Wake up and give us something so we can buy breakfast!" Jolted awake by the rough shaking, Hanifa rolled her eyes and pouted heavily. "Oh, shit! For heaven's sake, Inna! What is this? Can't you see I am trying to sleep?" she snapped, sitting up abruptly. "We need breakfast money, since you already know your worthless father won't provide a dime unless he feels like it," Inna fired back. Hanifa dragged her bag toward her, pulled out two five-hundred-naira notes, and thrust them toward her mother. "Take this. Buy whatever needs to be bought and bring me back my change. That's the only money I have left—it's the payment I received from braiding some women's hair yesterday." "Alright, thank you," Inna said. Just as she turned to leave, she pushed aside the ragged door curtain and added, "Earlier this morning, Farida from the Bargaja house came looking for you regarding the hair-braiding appointment you promised her for this morning. I told her you were asleep. Send one of the kids to go call her over now." With that, Inna went about her business to prepare the meal. She took the leftover crust of rice from the previous night, mixed it with spices and ingredients she purchased, and turned it into a seasoned rice mash (kwaɗo). She distributed it among the children of the house, and they devoured it hungrily in an instant—not because they were full, but purely to survive. Nothing infuriated Hanifa more than watching Baba shamelessly creep closer while the food was being handed out, without an ounce of pride, demanding that his own portion be served as well. In the afternoon, after Hanifa had finally dismissed her hair-braiding clients, she went out to the neighbors' houses to beg for water to take a bath. With great reluctance, a neighbor named Ladidi spared her a single, small iron bucket of water. The moment Hanifa walked back into the compound, she headed straight for the filthy restroom door located in the middle of the courtyard. Just as she was about to step inside, she realized she had forgotten her sponge and soap. Dropping the bucket of water on the ground, she dashed back to her room. Barely two minutes later, she emerged holding her sponge basket. But to her utter shock, when she looked down, her bucket of water had completely vanished. Furthermore, the door to their disgusting restroom was now slammed shut and firmly locked—a stark contrast to how she had left it two minutes ago. "Who is in there?" she demanded, raising her voice. There was not a single sign of an answer from whoever was inside. She stood there frozen, tapping her foot in pure fury, wondering who in this house possessed the sheer audacity to disrespect her so completely. Just then, Maryam walked past on her way out and saw her older sister standing there fuming. "Yaya Hanee, what happened?" she asked. "Can you believe I had to go all the way to the neighbors just to beg for bathwater? I left it here for two seconds to grab my soap, and some useless person who thinks their body needs washing more than mine came and stole it!" she yelled, shaking her head in an outburst of rage. "Oh wow! Well, don't involve me, but it was Yaya Sofi. I saw her step inside with it." The moment Maryam finished speaking, she shook her head and walked out of the compound, though her heart raced with excitement. She resolved to run her errand as fast as possible and rush back just to witness the massive entertainment and chaos that was bound to erupt in the house today. The only reason she didn't stay right there to watch was her sheer terror of Mankas; if he caught her failing to complete his errand, he would rain absolute hell on her. Otherwise, nothing would have dragged her away from watching the opening scene of the drama series set to kick off today. After about five minutes, the restroom door swung open, and Sofi stepped out, casually shaking the excess water off her skin. Moving with blinding speed, Hanifa charged at her, hissing like a furious lioness. Catching Sofi completely off guard, she violently yanked the iron bucket from her hands and smashed it directly against the center of Sofi's forehead. Blood instantly sprayed from the wound. Sofi let out a blood-curdling shriek. Clapping her palm over her bleeding forehead, she wailed in a tearful, cracked voice, "You dare break open my forehead?!" "Yes, I broke it! Who the hell told you to steal my water? Do you have any idea the immense labor I went through to get that water? Do you even know the important place I am getting ready to go to?" Hanifa roared, her chest heaving with a violent rage that made it clear she was completely pushed to her limit. "Oh, really?! Fine! Today you will witness a madness that completely eclipses yours, because we are going to fight to the absolute death in this house!" With that final threat, Sofi bolted toward the kitchen area, her eyes wildly scanning the room for a knife. Meanwhile, Hanifa grabbed a massive, heavy wooden axe handle, standing her ground, completely stationary as she waited for Sofi's return. Throughout this entire explosive uproar, there was no adult around to intervene. Inna had traveled out to the village, as was her usual routine every Sunday. The neighborhood kids had all gone outside to play, leaving only two young children, Sadik and Basma, inside the compound. The two kids were jumping up and down, cheering gleefully, "A fight is so much fun to watch! If it's not your fight, just feast your eyes! Kill yourselves in this house, nobody is going to separate you!" Moments later, Sofi came charging back, clutching a brand-new, razor-sharp knife. She advanced on Hanifa, screaming, "Today I am going to drain the red color out of your body, just like you did to me!" Hanifa shifted into a solid combat stance, raising the heavy wooden axe handle high. "May Allah grant you luck! One body is no stronger than another, and you sure as hell aren't a better thug than I am..." Before the words could fully leave her mouth, Sofi leaped forward with blinding adrenaline and, with lethal precision, launched a vicious plunge directly at Hanifa. At that exact second, Maryam poked her head back through the front gate. Simultaneously, both Maryam and Hanifa let out a piercing shriek. Maryam screamed from the absolute terror of the sight before her, while Hanifa screamed from the excruciating, blinding agony ripping through her body. Before Maryam could even make a move to help, a wave of dizziness overcame both sisters, and they collapsed heavily onto the hard floor, completely unconscious... Wow! The style of this story is truly unique, completely different from anything else... You only need to pay a meager ₦200 to continue reading! The volume of your comments and the love you show this book by purchasing it will prove to me how much you appreciate it... Don't forget, it is only two hundred naira! To pay for the book, please contact this number: 08109634202 Bank name: Rukayya Ibrahim Lawal Account number: 0431343346 GT Bank Pay your money into this account. Just ₦200 to keep our dear fans happy.
PART 2: THE LITTLE GIRL IN THE ALLEYWAY
The following day broke with a severe, biting cold that threatened to be even more intense than the previous day. A CERTAIN NEIGHBORHOOD FREE PAGE — PAGE 2 CHAPTER TWO On this particular day, at around 11:00 AM, I spotted a tiny girl from a distance, who could not have been more than five years old, walking down an alleyway. She wore absolutely nothing except a small white loincloth (bante), which was so thoroughly caked in thick dirt that a casual observer would mistake its color for dark honey. Her face was completely smeared with dried corn mush (kunu), and her nose was heavily clogged with dried mucus. A single glance at her skin made it abundantly clear that her body had not felt the touch of water in a very long time. She toddled along, playing typical childhood games, until she arrived at the front door of a house. She came to a dead halt, staring at the entrance. She pushed against the door, but found it completely locked and secured. Seeing this, she slumped against the side of the door, bursting into tears and crying out, "Mama! Mama!! Mama!!!" A sharp, freezing gust of wind swept through the alley, piercing straight into her body and bones. She curled her tiny body into a tight ball, shivering violently as the severe cold overtook her. After a long time passed and there was still no sign of her mother returning, she dragged herself up and began wandering from house to house through the neighborhood, weeping bitterly as she searched for her mother. She walked right into one of the houses in their alleyway without even bothering to call out a greeting. The woman of the house was bent double over a basin, washing dishes, when she suddenly noticed the little girl standing directly over her, crying. She raised her head, looked at the child, and asked, "Oh! Salma! Why on earth are you crying?" "My mama!" she wailed through her tears. "What did your mother do?" Ladidi inquired. Through heavy, broken sobs, the girl choked out, "I am looking for her. Did she come in here?" "No, she didn't come here. Go check your Aunt Hanne's house." The little girl trotted out, continuing her bitter weeping. The woman went back to her dishwashing, muttering to herself, "Good grief, Biba! For heaven's sake, has the chronic loitering started again in this neighborhood today? Where on earth did she run off to, abandoning this filthy child all by herself?" Receiving no answer from the empty courtyard, she simply continued her chores. The moment Salma exited, she headed straight down the path that connected to the alleyway of Aunt Hanne's house (her mother's older sister). Just as she stepped onto the main path of that alley, a motorcycle came roaring down the lane, preparing to exit. Moving too fast to react, the rider struck her head-on. She let out a piercing shriek that completely rattled the rider. Without even stopping to see whose child he had just hit, he frantically revved his engine and sped away, shouting backward, "Look at this child trying to bring a catastrophic lawsuit upon my head! By God, I am not stopping!" Uncle Sadi, who had just turned into the alleyway at that exact moment, witnessed the hit from a distance. However, before he could rush to the scene, the perpetrator had already fled. He ran to the little girl’s side, lifting her into a sitting position to inspect her injuries. She was badly hurt; her mouth was split open and bleeding heavily, and one of her tiny front teeth—resembling a mouse's tooth—had been knocked completely out. Her head was fractured and split open from smashing hard against a sharp stone during the fall. In the blink of an eye, the residents of the alleyway swarmed the area, surrounding her and murmuring in deep sorrow. A small boy spun around and ran toward one of the houses down the street. A few moments later, he returned accompanied by Biba and Aunt Hanne. "Innalillahi wa innailaihir raji'un! (Surely we belong to Allah and to Him we shall return!) Salma, what brought you out here?!" Aunt Hanne cried out, bursting into tears. She scooped the little girl into her arms and sprinted toward the nearest local chemist shop. After the chemist administered emergency first aid and treated her wounds, Aunt Hanne strapped the little girl securely to her back and carried her home. On the way, she crossed paths with Abba, who asked what had happened. She simply lied to him, claiming that Salma had suffered a bad fall. She unlocked her front gate with a key and stepped inside the compound. The courtyard was a chaotic disaster area, resembling a filthy donkey stable. Dirty dishes were piled up everywhere in massive heaps; some had dried up completely, attracting a massive swarming cloud of buzzing flies. As she walked past, the flies erupted into a loud, deafening buzz. She pushed past them into her room, muttering in disgust, "For Allah's sake, look at how flies have taken over this house like a latrine pit! If I could just find a powerful pesticide to slaughter these worthless pests, I would wipe them out completely! Gross!" she snapped, letting out a massive, irritated click of her tongue. The bedroom itself was completely unbearable, filled with a sharp, pungent stench of stagnant urine. She spread a ragged cloth on the floor, laid the injured child down, and walked back outside, complaining, "Unbelievable! Up until now, not a single soul has stepped into this house. Time is ticking away, I haven't cooked a single thing, and my stomach is already roaring with hunger." She walked out to the front gate, peering down the street. She was wearing nothing but a wrapper tied across her chest, her head completely bare without a scarf. Seeing young Sadik walking past, she called out to him, "Hey, Sadik! Come here." He walked over, and she looked down at him. "When you get home, please tell Hanee and Sofi that I am calling them over right now. Tell them I am standing here waiting for them." "To be honest, I'm not heading home right now, but I'll pass by their place and call them for you." A wide smile spread across her face, revealing her stained, decayed teeth. "Excellent! Hurry along, my dear boy. Bless you." He ignored her and went on his way. Just as she was about to turn back inside, she spotted Nazee turning the corner of the street. She quickly shrank back into the shadows of the doorway, hiding her body so he wouldn't spot her and run away. The moment he drew parallel to her front gate, she stepped right back into the open and called out, "Our dear Nazee! For Allah's sake, come over here and listen to me." "What am I listening to now? Look, Biba, just leave me alone today..." "Oh, come on, Nazee! It's me, Biba! You know how our neighborhood street business works—it's a matter of scratch my back and I scratch yours. Come inside for a second, for Allah's sake," she pleaded, flashing her decayed teeth. Realizing he had no easy escape, he reluctantly stepped into the entrance corridor of her house, while she retreated slightly into the courtyard. "I'm here. What is it?" he snapped, scowling heavily to signal his irritation. Completely unfazed by his hostility, she said, "Nazee, for Allah's sake, give me three hundred naira so I can buy ingredients for dinner. Habibu marched out this morning without leaving a single penny, and we have nothing left except a small stash of raw rice." "If your own husband can't even provide for you, what on earth makes you think I can?" he fired back, his face expressionless and cold. "Just give me a little assistance, the way you usually do. If I cook the food, I'll set aside a portion for you, I swear to God." Realizing that Biba would never let him leave in peace unless he handed over some money, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a two-hundred-naira note, and thrust it at her. "This is the absolute maximum you are getting from me. And may Allah protect me from ever eating your filthy cooking!" He spun around to leave. As he walked away, he could hear her shouting behind him, "Bastard! I don't care what you say, at least you paid up!" She went back inside the courtyard, gloating to herself, "Aha! Look at that, now I have extra money to buy ingredients. I'll take this two hundred naira along with the five hundred naira Habibu gave me for dinner and save it in my secret bank account. I need to start gathering the money for the wedding uniform (anko) as early as possible. A wise person starts crying from a distance. I hope Hanee arrives soon; I know I can squeeze some more cash out of her." She smiled to herself, delighted with her manipulation. Thirty minutes later, Sofi walked into the compound. "Excellent! Our dear Sofi, come over here and listen to me." "What do you want me to do for you now?" Sofi asked in an arrogant, dismissive tone. "For Allah's sake, I need you to wash these dishes for me. I need to start cooking right now, and there isn't a single clean plate left in this house—they are all completely filthy." "Are you insane? I am not a slave in your household to tackle this massive mountain of dirty dishes all by myself!" Sofi snapped, attempting to sit down on a ragged mat spread out in the middle of the courtyard. "Oh, come on, Sofi, please! I swear to God, I will share the food with you. You can eat until you are completely full—because I know damn well that if you go back to your own house, you won't find a single scrap to eat." Through endless flattery and manipulation, Biba slowly worked on Sofi until she finally wore her down, and Sofi agreed to do the chores. Sofi began gathering the dirty dishes while Biba headed out to buy the cooking ingredients. A while later, Biba returned, looking around the yard. "Unbelievable! Has Hanifa still not shown up? What on earth is keeping her?" Sofi sneered and replied, "She's over there braiding some woman's hair. You should see the woman's head—it looks like a wild gourd hacked open with a blunt knife. That's exactly why I don't just braid any random head." Biba burst into loud laughter as she began coaxing a fire to start. "Seriously, Sofi, you are absolutely ruthless!" In short, Sofi spent nearly four hours working at the house before she finally ate her fill and headed back home. The exact moment Sofi walked back into her own compound, she spotted a bucket of water sitting right outside the restroom door. Without bothering to find out whose water it was, she scooped up the bucket and locked herself inside the restroom, muttering to herself, "Conflict isn't an inheritance. Whoever wants peace should stay clear. Once I step out, whatever happens, happens." And that was precisely how the violent conflict erupted. Trouble was merely sleeping, and Allah curses whoever wakes it up. At around 9:00 PM that night, Habibu was walking back home when a neighbor intercepted him at the edge of the street, breaking the news of the horrific accident that had befallen his little daughter, Salma. Thoroughly panicked, he hurried toward his house. Before he could even reach the front gate, three more men stopped him, repeating the story—though each person narrated a completely different, wildly exaggerated version of how the incident occurred. "Assalamu alaikum (Peace be upon you)," he called out as he entered his home. He repeated the Islamic greeting three times, but no one bothered to answer him. Instead, he could hear the loud, raucous sound of laughter echoing from inside; his wife's laughter was the loudest and sharpest of all. This deeply insulted and angered him. He threw the door open and stepped into the living room without a greeting. He froze instantly, completely paralyzed in his tracks, his mouth hanging open in absolute shock as his eyes scanned the room. What he witnessed left him thoroughly astounded. Lying on the couch was Nura—their neighbors' twenty-three-year-old son, who was also his relative. He was tangled up on the sofa with Sagira, a young girl from their alleyway. They were lying head-to-toe; his head was resting by her feet, and her head was resting by his feet, staring directly into each other's faces. Her head was completely bare, without a scarf. Two other teenage girls were lounging stretched out on the floor, while his wife, Biba, sat right in the middle of them, wearing nothing but a loose wrapper tied across her chest. The wrapper kept slipping down, exposing her body, and she kept casually pulling it back up. Over in a neglected corner of the room, his little daughter, Salma, lay abandoned on a bare plastic mat without a blanket, a massive medical plaster stuck across her forehead. She was tossing and turning in a fitful, feverish sleep, drenched entirely in pools of sweat—despite the fact that a rechargeable fan was blowing right...
2. Structural Analysis & Summary
Core Narrative Structure
The Double Exposition: The chapter masterfully intertwines two parallel households within a deeply impoverished, volatile neighborhood.
Household 1 (Hanifa's Family): Focuses on Hanifa, a young girl returning from a secret midnight rendezvous with a wealthy older man ("Alhaji"). She navigates a greedy, criminal brother (Mankas) and a broken home characterized by an indifferent father (Baba) and basic structural poverty.
Household 2 (Biba's Family): Focuses on Biba, a manipulative, neglectful mother who hoards money for social vanity ("anko") while leaving her filthy 5-year-old child (Salma) to wander the streets.
The Rising Action & Climax of Household 1: The domestic friction explodes over a basic commodity: water. Hanifa goes to extreme lengths to beg for bathwater, which her sister Sofi thoughtlessly steals. This triggers a graphic, bloody altercation involving an iron bucket and a razor-sharp knife, ending with both sisters collapsing unconscious.
The Rising Action & Parallel Climax of Household 2: Little Salma is hit by a hit-and-run motorcyclist while looking for her loitering mother. While the child lies heavily injured and feverish in a corner, Biba occupies her home with neighborhood youths, engaging in highly inappropriate, cross-gender intimacy (Nura and Sagira lying head-to-toe on the couch) and raucous laughter. The chapter hits its peak cliffhanger when the structural head of the household, Habibu, walks in on this shocking scene of moral decay and child neglect.
Key Motifs & Tropes
The Bleak Realism of Poverty (Talauci): The narrative highlights the raw, unglamorous realities of urban slums: unplastered mud brick walls, lack of running water, swarms of flies feeding on unwashed dishes, pungent odors, and toxic family dynamics where survival trumps morality.
The Hypocritical Watcher: The character of Mamuda S/M embodies the classic neighborhood trope of the malicious gossip/bystander who watches moral failures not to correct them, but to collect social ammunition.
The Domino Effect of Neglect: A universal theme where parental moral failure directly correlates to child endangerment. Biba's vanity and Habibu's absence leave Salma vulnerable to physical trauma, while the moral boundaries of the household completely collapse.
ZAKI BOOK 1 COMPELET
A CERTAIN NEIGHBORHOOD
At approximately 6:00 AM on a Sunday morning, the neighborhood was completely dead silent. Not a single sound could be heard except for the rustling of the blowing wind. The street was as quiet as if no living soul resided near the area.
After two minutes had passed, a sleek black car drove onto the street, its driver clearly in a frantic hurry. Moments later, the car abruptly braked right at the corner of a small alleyway.
Inside the car, a young woman who could not be more than twenty years old sat in the passenger seat. Turning around, she looked at the older man in the driver's seat and said, "Alhaji, I will walk the rest of the way home. You know how the people of this neighborhood are. If another soul spots me with you, that's it—I am completely finished."
He let out a short laugh, glanced back at her, and said, "Come on, Hanee Baby. What I love about you is also what drives me crazy—your extreme fear. So what if you went out and had a good time?"
She narrowed her eyes into a harsh scowl and placed her hand on the car door handle, preparing to leave. Moving with rapid reflexes, Alhaji Saminu grabbed her hand, pleading, "Hold on, hold on! Hanee Baby, please don't be angry. I'll stop teasing you. Bring your bag so I can insert the payment for your merchandise."
She ignored him, acting as if she hadn't heard a word. Smiling with the practiced charm of a seasoned playboy, he picked up the handbag resting on her lap. He reached into the glove compartment, pulled out a thick, bundled stack of crisp five-hundred-naira notes, stuffed it into her bag, and handed it back to her.
She snatched it and exited the vehicle without uttering a single word. In truth, only her physical body was present on that street; her spirit was completely consumed by anxiety, projecting the terrifying consequences if anyone were to catch sight of her. She was clad in a black abaya, but underneath it, she wore tight, form-fitting top and trousers—a detail one would only notice upon incredibly close inspection.
The moment she stepped out, a biting morning cold pierced through her limbs, seeping straight into her bones. She began casting frantic glances left and right. Seeing that the coast was clear, she hurried into their alleyway, moving in a half-running, frantic pace.
What she completely failed to realize was that from the very moment the Alhaji parked his car, Mamuda S/M was sitting directly across the street, watching their every move.
Ever since the Fajr dawn prayer concluded, every resident had hurried back inside their homes and locked their doors due to the severe morning cold. But not Mamuda. He had spread a small piece of cloth on the ground and sat out in the open, huddled tightly against the freezing wind. He absolutely refused to go inside, purely out of deep-seated malice and nosiness, determined not to let a single soul pass by or commit an act without him witnessing it.
Watching Hanifa slip into the alleyway, he stood straight up and muttered aloud, "Ha! So it turns out we’ve been looking at a hyena disguised in a sheep's skin! So this girl is a wild party animal after all? No wonder..."
He let out a delighted, wicked chuckle, sat back down, and gloated, "That’s investigative report number one secured. Let me sit tight, maybe I'll collect a few more to add to the pile."
When Hanifa reached her house, she found the front gate firmly locked from the inside, exactly as she had anticipated. She quickly skirted around the building to a secret bypass she had personally designated for emergencies. With her heart pounding in terror, she stepped onto a loose stone, scaled the perimeter wall, and dropped silently into the compound with a soft thud.
She let out a massive sigh of relief. "Hmmm!"
Stepping quietly on her tiptoes, she snuck toward their room. As she crept past Inna’s quarters, she assumed they were all deep in their usual, counterproductive morning slumber. After all, her father, Baba, never bothered with the dawn prayer; on a good day, he wouldn't pray until 8:00 AM, let alone discipline any of his children for oversleeping.
She was barely five paces away from slipping safely into her bedroom when a voice sliced through the silence behind her like a sudden thunderclap.
"Good grief... So you didn't sleep at home last night, huh?"
It was the voice of her older brother, Mankas, speaking in the coarse, menacing tone of a local thug.
Hanifa froze, completely struck with panic. He stepped closer, cornering her. "Where are you coming from? Just wait until Baba wakes up. There’s going to be a massive drama show in this house today."
Knowing her brother's volatile and greedy nature, she hardened her expression, turned to him, and whispered sharply, "That is my exact problem with you—you can never keep a secret. Look, I’ll bribe you right now, and you will cover for me."
"Aww, excellent! Now you’re finally treating yourself fairly, girl," he sneered.
She unzipped her handbag, reaching inside to fish out some money while he leaned his head forward, shamelessly leering into the bag. The moment his eyes caught sight of the massive stack of cash, his mouth fell open like an absolute fool. Just as he opened his mouth to shout, she slapped a one-thousand-naira note into his palm and snapped, "Take this. Now, are you going to return my peace of mind or what?"
"If you think I'll accept this, may Allah curse me! I see a fortune in that bag and you dare hand me a measly one thousand naira? Do you think this pocket change is enough to buy my daily data data bundle? Especially today when the gang has a major street operation to execute since morning!"
She jutted out her large lip in a heavy pout and complained, "Oh come on, Mankas! Do you have any idea the immense hardship I had to endure just to get this money?"
"Fine. Keep your pocket change in your bag. Let me go wake Baba right now." He raised his voice, bellowing across the courtyard, "Baba! Baba!!"
In a frantic panic, her voice trembling, Hanifa hissed, "For Allah's sake, Mankas, shut up! I’ll add more!"
"Now you're being sensible."
Grumbling under her breath and muttering curses too low for him to catch, she pulled out an additional two thousand naira and handed it over. She had absolutely no intention of giving him that much, but knowing the relentless harassment Mankas was capable of, she knew she had no choice.
She dashed into her room, whispering viciously to herself, "Absolute parasite. Ya Abba is a thousand times better than you; he actually keeps my secrets, we kill the matter and bury it, and nobody ever finds out. But you? For a worthless sum, you’re trying to bring a cursed beating down on my head."
She stepped into their bedroom. A single glance around the room made it glaringly obvious that this was a deeply impoverished household. The walls were bare, exposed mud bricks without a single layer of plaster, and sections of the structure had already begun to crumble and peel away.
She quickly stripped off her abaya along with the tight top and trousers, rolled them tightly into a bundle, and stuffed them deep into the very bottom of her clothing trunk. She then pulled out a ragged, faded wrapper that looked as though it hadn't seen soap or water in months. Tying it securely across her chest, she climbed onto their tattered, bare mattress that lacked even a basic bedsheet. She huddled into a tight corner, taking care not to wake her two younger sisters who were sleeping soundly on the same mattress.
As she sat there, she began quietly counting the money she had collected from her sugar daddy. Suddenly, she heard a rustle from one of the younger children sleeping on a woven mat on the floor. In a flash, she shoved the cash back into her bag, slammed her eyes shut, and pretended to be fast asleep, while her mind spun with endless calculations of all the things she would buy with her fortune.
Once the daylight broke completely, Inna emerged from her room, adjusting her wrapper across her chest. She picked up a plastic kettle and headed to the backyard restroom. After exiting, she sat in the middle of the courtyard, performed her ablutions, and went back inside to perform her late dawn prayer.
Up until that hour, Mudi (Baba) had not even stirred from his sleep, let alone thought about prayer or going out to earn a living. It was nearly 10:00 AM when he finally dragged himself out of bed and performed his prayers. When Inna approached him to ask for money to buy breakfast, he sneered, "Today, I don't even have a single penny to my name. Go meet the person you're usually accustomed to collecting money from."
Inna didn't bother arguing with him. She turned on her heel and marched straight into Hanifa’s room. By then, all the other children were awake, except for Hanifa, who was busy catching up on the sleep she had lost the previous night.
Inna reached out and aggressively shook her shoulder. "Hanifa! Hanifa!! Wake up and give us something so we can buy breakfast!"
Jolted awake by the rough shaking, Hanifa rolled her eyes and pouted heavily. "Oh, shit! For heaven's sake, Inna! What is this? Can't you see I am trying to sleep?" she snapped, sitting up abruptly.
"We need breakfast money, since you already know your worthless father won't provide a dime unless he feels like it," Inna fired back.
Hanifa dragged her bag toward her, pulled out two five-hundred-naira notes, and thrust them toward her mother. "Take this. Buy whatever needs to be bought and bring me back my change. That's the only money I have left—it's the payment I received from braiding some women's hair yesterday."
"Alright, thank you," Inna said. Just as she turned to leave, she pushed aside the ragged door curtain and added, "Earlier this morning, Farida from the Bargaja house came looking for you regarding the hair-braiding appointment you promised her for this morning. I told her you were asleep. Send one of the kids to go call her over now." With that, Inna went about her business to prepare the meal.
She took the leftover crust of rice from the previous night, mixed it with spices and ingredients she purchased, and turned it into a seasoned rice mash (kwaɗo). She distributed it among the children of the house, and they devoured it hungrily in an instant—not because they were full, but purely to survive.
Nothing infuriated Hanifa more than watching Baba shamelessly creep closer while the food was being handed out, without an ounce of pride, demanding that his own portion be served as well.
In the afternoon, after Hanifa had finally dismissed her hair-braiding clients, she went out to the neighbors' houses to beg for water to take a bath. With great reluctance, a neighbor named Ladidi spared her a single, small iron bucket of water.
The moment Hanifa walked back into the compound, she headed straight for the filthy restroom door located in the middle of the courtyard. Just as she was about to step inside, she realized she had forgotten her sponge and soap. Dropping the bucket of water on the ground, she dashed back to her room.
Barely two minutes later, she emerged holding her sponge basket. But to her utter shock, when she looked down, her bucket of water had completely vanished. Furthermore, the door to their disgusting restroom was now slammed shut and firmly locked—a stark contrast to how she had left it two minutes ago.
"Who is in there?" she demanded, raising her voice. There was not a single sign of an answer from whoever was inside.
She stood there frozen, tapping her foot in pure fury, wondering who in this house possessed the sheer audacity to disrespect her so completely.
Just then, Maryam walked past on her way out and saw her older sister standing there fuming. "Yaya Hanee, what happened?" she asked.
"Can you believe I had to go all the way to the neighbors just to beg for bathwater? I left it here for two seconds to grab my soap, and some useless person who thinks their body needs washing more than mine came and stole it!" she yelled, shaking her head in an outburst of rage.
"Oh wow! Well, don't involve me, but it was Yaya Sofi. I saw her step inside with it."
The moment Maryam finished speaking, she shook her head and walked out of the compound, though her heart raced with excitement. She resolved to run her errand as fast as possible and rush back just to witness the massive entertainment and chaos that was bound to erupt in the house today. The only reason she didn't stay right there to watch was her sheer terror of Mankas; if he caught her failing to complete his errand, he would rain absolute hell on her. Otherwise, nothing would have dragged her away from watching the opening scene of the drama series set to kick off today.
After about five minutes, the restroom door swung open, and Sofi stepped out, casually shaking the excess water off her skin.
Moving with blinding speed, Hanifa charged at her, hissing like a furious lioness. Catching Sofi completely off guard, she violently yanked the iron bucket from her hands and smashed it directly against the center of Sofi's forehead. Blood instantly sprayed from the wound.
Sofi let out a blood-curdling shriek. Clapping her palm over her bleeding forehead, she wailed in a tearful, cracked voice, "You dare break open my forehead?!"
"Yes, I broke it! Who the hell told you to steal my water? Do you have any idea the immense labor I went through to get that water? Do you even know the important place I am getting ready to go to?" Hanifa roared, her chest heaving with a violent rage that made it clear she was completely pushed to her limit.
"Oh, really?! Fine! Today you will witness a madness that completely eclipses yours, because we are going to fight to the absolute death in this house!"
With that final threat, Sofi bolted toward the kitchen area, her eyes wildly scanning the room for a knife. Meanwhile, Hanifa grabbed a massive, heavy wooden axe handle, standing her ground, completely stationary as she waited for Sofi's return.
Throughout this entire explosive uproar, there was no adult around to intervene. Inna had traveled out to the village, as was her usual routine every Sunday. The neighborhood kids had all gone outside to play, leaving only two young children, Sadik and Basma, inside the compound. The two kids were jumping up and down, cheering gleefully, "A fight is so much fun to watch! If it's not your fight, just feast your eyes! Kill yourselves in this house, nobody is going to separate you!"
Moments later, Sofi came charging back, clutching a brand-new, razor-sharp knife. She advanced on Hanifa, screaming, "Today I am going to drain the red color out of your body, just like you did to me!"
Hanifa shifted into a solid combat stance, raising the heavy wooden axe handle high. "May Allah grant you luck! One body is no stronger than another, and you sure as hell aren't a better thug than I am..."
Before the words could fully leave her mouth, Sofi leaped forward with blinding adrenaline and, with lethal precision, launched a vicious plunge directly at Hanifa.
At that exact second, Maryam poked her head back through the front gate. Simultaneously, both Maryam and Hanifa let out a piercing shriek. Maryam screamed from the absolute terror of the sight before her, while Hanifa screamed from the excruciating, blinding agony ripping through her body.
Before Maryam could even make a move to help, a wave of dizziness overcame both sisters, and they collapsed heavily onto the hard floor, completely unconscious...
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PART 2: THE LITTLE GIRL IN THE ALLEYWAY
The following day broke with a severe, biting cold that threatened to be even more intense than the previous day.
A CERTAIN NEIGHBORHOOD
FREE PAGE — PAGE 2
CHAPTER TWO
On this particular day, at around 11:00 AM, I spotted a tiny girl from a distance, who could not have been more than five years old, walking down an alleyway.
She wore absolutely nothing except a small white loincloth (bante), which was so thoroughly caked in thick dirt that a casual observer would mistake its color for dark honey. Her face was completely smeared with dried corn mush (kunu), and her nose was heavily clogged with dried mucus. A single glance at her skin made it abundantly clear that her body had not felt the touch of water in a very long time.
She toddled along, playing typical childhood games, until she arrived at the front door of a house. She came to a dead halt, staring at the entrance. She pushed against the door, but found it completely locked and secured.
Seeing this, she slumped against the side of the door, bursting into tears and crying out, "Mama! Mama!! Mama!!!"
A sharp, freezing gust of wind swept through the alley, piercing straight into her body and bones. She curled her tiny body into a tight ball, shivering violently as the severe cold overtook her.
After a long time passed and there was still no sign of her mother returning, she dragged herself up and began wandering from house to house through the neighborhood, weeping bitterly as she searched for her mother. She walked right into one of the houses in their alleyway without even bothering to call out a greeting.
The woman of the house was bent double over a basin, washing dishes, when she suddenly noticed the little girl standing directly over her, crying. She raised her head, looked at the child, and asked, "Oh! Salma! Why on earth are you crying?"
"My mama!" she wailed through her tears.
"What did your mother do?" Ladidi inquired.
Through heavy, broken sobs, the girl choked out, "I am looking for her. Did she come in here?"
"No, she didn't come here. Go check your Aunt Hanne's house."
The little girl trotted out, continuing her bitter weeping.
The woman went back to her dishwashing, muttering to herself, "Good grief, Biba! For heaven's sake, has the chronic loitering started again in this neighborhood today? Where on earth did she run off to, abandoning this filthy child all by herself?" Receiving no answer from the empty courtyard, she simply continued her chores.
The moment Salma exited, she headed straight down the path that connected to the alleyway of Aunt Hanne's house (her mother's older sister). Just as she stepped onto the main path of that alley, a motorcycle came roaring down the lane, preparing to exit. Moving too fast to react, the rider struck her head-on.
She let out a piercing shriek that completely rattled the rider. Without even stopping to see whose child he had just hit, he frantically revved his engine and sped away, shouting backward, "Look at this child trying to bring a catastrophic lawsuit upon my head! By God, I am not stopping!"
Uncle Sadi, who had just turned into the alleyway at that exact moment, witnessed the hit from a distance. However, before he could rush to the scene, the perpetrator had already fled.
He ran to the little girl’s side, lifting her into a sitting position to inspect her injuries. She was badly hurt; her mouth was split open and bleeding heavily, and one of her tiny front teeth—resembling a mouse's tooth—had been knocked completely out. Her head was fractured and split open from smashing hard against a sharp stone during the fall.
In the blink of an eye, the residents of the alleyway swarmed the area, surrounding her and murmuring in deep sorrow. A small boy spun around and ran toward one of the houses down the street. A few moments later, he returned accompanied by Biba and Aunt Hanne.
"Innalillahi wa innailaihir raji'un! (Surely we belong to Allah and to Him we shall return!) Salma, what brought you out here?!" Aunt Hanne cried out, bursting into tears. She scooped the little girl into her arms and sprinted toward the nearest local chemist shop.
After the chemist administered emergency first aid and treated her wounds, Aunt Hanne strapped the little girl securely to her back and carried her home.
On the way, she crossed paths with Abba, who asked what had happened. She simply lied to him, claiming that Salma had suffered a bad fall.
She unlocked her front gate with a key and stepped inside the compound. The courtyard was a chaotic disaster area, resembling a filthy donkey stable. Dirty dishes were piled up everywhere in massive heaps; some had dried up completely, attracting a massive swarming cloud of buzzing flies. As she walked past, the flies erupted into a loud, deafening buzz.
She pushed past them into her room, muttering in disgust, "For Allah's sake, look at how flies have taken over this house like a latrine pit! If I could just find a powerful pesticide to slaughter these worthless pests, I would wipe them out completely! Gross!" she snapped, letting out a massive, irritated click of her tongue.
The bedroom itself was completely unbearable, filled with a sharp, pungent stench of stagnant urine. She spread a ragged cloth on the floor, laid the injured child down, and walked back outside, complaining, "Unbelievable! Up until now, not a single soul has stepped into this house. Time is ticking away, I haven't cooked a single thing, and my stomach is already roaring with hunger."
She walked out to the front gate, peering down the street. She was wearing nothing but a wrapper tied across her chest, her head completely bare without a scarf.
Seeing young Sadik walking past, she called out to him, "Hey, Sadik! Come here."
He walked over, and she looked down at him. "When you get home, please tell Hanee and Sofi that I am calling them over right now. Tell them I am standing here waiting for them."
"To be honest, I'm not heading home right now, but I'll pass by their place and call them for you."
A wide smile spread across her face, revealing her stained, decayed teeth. "Excellent! Hurry along, my dear boy. Bless you." He ignored her and went on his way.
Just as she was about to turn back inside, she spotted Nazee turning the corner of the street. She quickly shrank back into the shadows of the doorway, hiding her body so he wouldn't spot her and run away.
The moment he drew parallel to her front gate, she stepped right back into the open and called out, "Our dear Nazee! For Allah's sake, come over here and listen to me."
"What am I listening to now? Look, Biba, just leave me alone today..."
"Oh, come on, Nazee! It's me, Biba! You know how our neighborhood street business works—it's a matter of scratch my back and I scratch yours. Come inside for a second, for Allah's sake," she pleaded, flashing her decayed teeth.
Realizing he had no easy escape, he reluctantly stepped into the entrance corridor of her house, while she retreated slightly into the courtyard. "I'm here. What is it?" he snapped, scowling heavily to signal his irritation.
Completely unfazed by his hostility, she said, "Nazee, for Allah's sake, give me three hundred naira so I can buy ingredients for dinner. Habibu marched out this morning without leaving a single penny, and we have nothing left except a small stash of raw rice."
"If your own husband can't even provide for you, what on earth makes you think I can?" he fired back, his face expressionless and cold.
"Just give me a little assistance, the way you usually do. If I cook the food, I'll set aside a portion for you, I swear to God."
Realizing that Biba would never let him leave in peace unless he handed over some money, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a two-hundred-naira note, and thrust it at her. "This is the absolute maximum you are getting from me. And may Allah protect me from ever eating your filthy cooking!" He spun around to leave.
As he walked away, he could hear her shouting behind him, "Bastard! I don't care what you say, at least you paid up!"
She went back inside the courtyard, gloating to herself, "Aha! Look at that, now I have extra money to buy ingredients. I'll take this two hundred naira along with the five hundred naira Habibu gave me for dinner and save it in my secret bank account. I need to start gathering the money for the wedding uniform (anko) as early as possible. A wise person starts crying from a distance. I hope Hanee arrives soon; I know I can squeeze some more cash out of her." She smiled to herself, delighted with her manipulation.
Thirty minutes later, Sofi walked into the compound.
"Excellent! Our dear Sofi, come over here and listen to me."
"What do you want me to do for you now?" Sofi asked in an arrogant, dismissive tone.
"For Allah's sake, I need you to wash these dishes for me. I need to start cooking right now, and there isn't a single clean plate left in this house—they are all completely filthy."
"Are you insane? I am not a slave in your household to tackle this massive mountain of dirty dishes all by myself!" Sofi snapped, attempting to sit down on a ragged mat spread out in the middle of the courtyard.
"Oh, come on, Sofi, please! I swear to God, I will share the food with you. You can eat until you are completely full—because I know damn well that if you go back to your own house, you won't find a single scrap to eat." Through endless flattery and manipulation, Biba slowly worked on Sofi until she finally wore her down, and Sofi agreed to do the chores.
Sofi began gathering the dirty dishes while Biba headed out to buy the cooking ingredients. A while later, Biba returned, looking around the yard. "Unbelievable! Has Hanifa still not shown up? What on earth is keeping her?"
Sofi sneered and replied, "She's over there braiding some woman's hair. You should see the woman's head—it looks like a wild gourd hacked open with a blunt knife. That's exactly why I don't just braid any random head."
Biba burst into loud laughter as she began coaxing a fire to start. "Seriously, Sofi, you are absolutely ruthless!"
In short, Sofi spent nearly four hours working at the house before she finally ate her fill and headed back home.
The exact moment Sofi walked back into her own compound, she spotted a bucket of water sitting right outside the restroom door. Without bothering to find out whose water it was, she scooped up the bucket and locked herself inside the restroom, muttering to herself, "Conflict isn't an inheritance. Whoever wants peace should stay clear. Once I step out, whatever happens, happens."
And that was precisely how the violent conflict erupted. Trouble was merely sleeping, and Allah curses whoever wakes it up.
At around 9:00 PM that night, Habibu was walking back home when a neighbor intercepted him at the edge of the street, breaking the news of the horrific accident that had befallen his little daughter, Salma.
Thoroughly panicked, he hurried toward his house. Before he could even reach the front gate, three more men stopped him, repeating the story—though each person narrated a completely different, wildly exaggerated version of how the incident occurred.
"Assalamu alaikum (Peace be upon you)," he called out as he entered his home. He repeated the Islamic greeting three times, but no one bothered to answer him. Instead, he could hear the loud, raucous sound of laughter echoing from inside; his wife's laughter was the loudest and sharpest of all.
This deeply insulted and angered him. He threw the door open and stepped into the living room without a greeting. He froze instantly, completely paralyzed in his tracks, his mouth hanging open in absolute shock as his eyes scanned the room. What he witnessed left him thoroughly astounded.
Lying on the couch was Nura—their neighbors' twenty-three-year-old son, who was also his relative. He was tangled up on the sofa with Sagira, a young girl from their alleyway. They were lying head-to-toe; his head was resting by her feet, and her head was resting by his feet, staring directly into each other's faces. Her head was completely bare, without a scarf.
Two other teenage girls were lounging stretched out on the floor, while his wife, Biba, sat right in the middle of them, wearing nothing but a loose wrapper tied across her chest. The wrapper kept slipping down, exposing her body, and she kept casually pulling it back up.
Over in a neglected corner of the room, his little daughter, Salma, lay abandoned on a bare plastic mat without a blanket, a massive medical plaster stuck across her forehead. She was tossing and turning in a fitful, feverish sleep, drenched entirely in pools of sweat—despite the fact that a rechargeable fan was blowing right...
2. Structural Analysis & Summary
Core Narrative Structure
The Rising Action & Parallel Climax of Household 2: Little Salma is hit by a hit-and-run motorcyclist while looking for her loitering mother. While the child lies heavily injured and feverish in a corner, Biba occupies her home with neighborhood youths, engaging in highly inappropriate, cross-gender intimacy (Nura and Sagira lying head-to-toe on the couch) and raucous laughter. The chapter hits its peak cliffhanger when the structural head of the household, Habibu, walks in on this shocking scene of moral decay and child neglect.
Key Motifs & Tropes