Katsina State (Baya Jidda Road, G.R.A, Gida Biyu)...
Not a single sound could be heard inside the room except the beautiful recitation of Sheikh Sudais chanting Surah Al-Baqarah. The entire room was dead silent, save for the hum of the fan and the cool breeze of the air conditioner. A captivating aroma—a blend of refreshing air fresheners and sweet, burning traditional incense (turaren wuta)—filled the air. It was a massive room, beautifully furnished with exquisite, milk-colored royal furniture. A thick, luxurious, plush carpet was spread across the center of the floor. Near the windows sat a sofa alongside a small refrigerator. By the dressing mirror stood a large table neatly stacked with a vast collection of Islamic books. Close to the entrance door was an entertainment center. The entire room exuded a mesmerizing, soothing fragrance that relaxed the senses.
Arranged neatly by the royal bed were a few men’s clothes, a black P-cap, and a black leather watch. On the floor in front of the mirror sat a pair of black boots. One look around the room was enough to tell you it belonged to an exceptionally clean and organized man.
As the wall clock chimed 11:31 AM on this Tuesday morning, the bathroom door was pushed open. Slowly and calmly, a well-built, dark-haired leg stepped onto the small mat laid out at the bathroom door before he fully emerged and closed the door behind him. Instantly, the room was filled with the fresh scent of the shower gel he had just used.
He walked slowly toward the dressing mirror, a navy blue towel wrapped around his waist and a milk-colored towel slung over his neck as he dried off. This was Dr. Nura Darma! A sturdy, vibrant young man who carried himself with immense pride and style. Some affectionately nicknamed him "Baban Su Wanka" (The Master of Style) because of his flawless grooming, extreme cleanliness, and above all, his God-given good looks and perfect composure. He was a handsome, tall, chocolate-skinned young man who exuded total maturity and calmness. By nature, he wasn’t loud, and a smile rarely graced his face. With his imposing physique and commanding facial features, even his enemies would have to admit that he deserved to be called a true gentleman—a stallion of a man who took pride in the dual education Allah had blessed him with: both modern and Islamic. He was a man of few words, speaking only when necessary or when it pertained to his work. He tolerated no disrespect and possessed a fierce, uncompromising spirit.
He took a brief breath as his large, white eyes fell upon his clothes. Just then, his phone—which was playing the Quranic recitation—rang out, abruptly pausing the audio. He closed his eyes briefly, opened them, and glanced at the wall clock. Ignoring the phone, he calmly picked up a comb from the mirror table and began combing his soft, smooth black hair, moving down to his neatly trimmed beard, which perfectly framed his handsome face—a feature that easily captured the attention of modern young women. A distinct prayer mark (sallaya) sat right in the middle of his forehead, adding to his striking charm. His reddish lips were somewhat full but not wide; when he chose to tighten them, they practically disappeared. He possessed strong muscles and a toned physique, being a dedicated fitness enthusiast.
Noticing that the incoming calls were relentless, he quickly got dressed in a red T-shirt, black trousers, and a P-cap, which looked exceptionally good on him. A delightful fragrance wafted from his body. At a single glance, you might mistake him for a "black white man" (bak'in bature) because of his refined aura.
True to his usual serious demeanor, he stepped out of his room holding a bundle of keys for his motorcycle. He locked his door first, glanced briefly toward "Mamy's" side of the house, and then headed over there with a walk that some would describe as pure arrogance. He parked his motorcycle right by the small veranda leading into the main parlor. With a completely serious face, still looking down at his phone, he pushed the door open, stepped inside calmly, and said in his deep, beautiful voice:
"Assalamu Alaikum!"
Masha Allah, he truly possessed a gifted voice.
A beautiful woman around 48 years old was seated on a couch, dressed in a gold-colored Atamfa wrapper and blouse. One look at her was enough to know she was his mother, given their striking resemblance. If she didn't respect the Islamic greeting so much, she probably wouldn't have answered him. It was as if she had been waiting for him to step in, as she immediately tried to cut him off, saying:
"If you are not going, tell me so I can call Khaleel to go pick up my girl, even though he is at school. Just now, she called and told me she has barely five minutes left before she drops off from the vehicle! Do you want her standing out there in the scorching sun waiting for you, or what?"
From the moment she started scolding him, he remained standing by the door without even sitting down. He knew that when it came to this troublesome girl, Mamy would lose all objectivity. The girl hadn't even arrived yet, and he was already getting lectured because of her! If it weren't for Mamy, by Allah, he wouldn't go pick her up. But she will learn her lesson...
"Are you listening to me? Why are you silent?" Mamy pressed.
"Oh my God! Please, Mamy, I am going to pick her up right now," he replied. "But honestly, with all her drama, couldn't she just take a commercial tricycle (Adaidaita)? Is it absolute torture if someone doesn't go pick her up?"
"What did you say?" Mamy snapped.
He didn't say another word. With a sour expression, he walked out, mounted his motorcycle, and rode out through the large main gate of the house. Expertly maneuvering the bike, he hit the main road.
He headed directly to his large chemist shop, which had opened barely two weeks ago. Upon arrival, he found Ismail busy attending to customers buying medicine.
"Yaya Nura, you're back?" Ismail asked. "Uh... have you picked up Anty Ahyaan yet?"
Tightening his face, Nura replied coldly, "I don't know," as he walked past him into the back, sat on a chair, and began scrolling through his phone with a deep frown.
He hadn't been sitting for even five minutes when his smaller phone began buzzing with text messages from people asking questions, followed by a string of consecutive calls. He sucked his teeth in annoyance and refused to answer, as his strict rule was "no calls, text messages only." However, some people didn't call to ask questions; they just wanted to hear his voice. Hearing a car horn outside, he hissed softly without looking out, his face contorted in annoyance as he kept typing on his phone.
"Yah Shaikh!" he heard the voice of his friend, Mu'az.
It took Nura about five seconds before he raised his head, glared at him, and locked eyes. Mu'az simply smiled and said, "Are we in a moody, stylish state today, my friend?" He walked into the shop, playfully tossing and catching his car keys. Ismail greeted him, and Mu'az replied, asking about Mamy, before turning back to Nura. "Darma, get up, let’s go."
Twisting his mouth slightly, Nura said in his husky voice, "In this scorching afternoon heat, we are going to people's houses? It's past 12 PM. Can't you wait until evening?"
"Honestly, I can't. I already told her we were coming so you two could meet and greet each other. Even when you were in London, I used to give her the phone to greet you, but now that you're back, I prefer she sees you in person."
Nura looked as though he wouldn't reply, his face twisted in mock indifference. "I am actually on my way to pick up that girl from the park. You know she was in Kaduna doing her NYSC, and she just finished. Mamy insisted that I must go pick her up from the motor park."
"Uhmm, my friend, you never tire, swear down," Mu'az laughed. "I thought you and Ahyaan stopped this childhood rivalry of yours, especially now that you're both older? You spent eight years in London, and I doubt she has even seen a picture of you since you left. You came back, and you still haven't met because she was in Kaduna... Please, stop talking about that girl."
"Hahaha, 'that girl'!" Mu'az mocked. "As if you two aren't agemates. In fact, I think she might even be older than you by a week..."
Instead of answering, Nura threw a heavy, playful punch at him while glaring. Mu'az dodged, laughing. Checking the time, Mu'az added, "Ustaz, get up, let's go pick her up, and from there we can head over to see my princess."
"Tsk, you brat! You're quite the whirlwind, aren't you?" Nura muttered.
"Hmm! It's a good thing Ammi is getting you married before you start eyeing other people's daughters," Mu'az teased. "If that wedding date hadn't been set, there would definitely be trouble. As for you, you just sit there fasting twice a week because of the intense energy bottled up inside you! I swear, I know this fasting you do twice every week must leave a mark..."
Mu'az trailed off, seeing how intensely Nura was glaring at him, and how he was also glaring at Ismail, who was sitting nearby attending to customers. Even though the boy wasn't even listening to their conversation, he still couldn't escape Nura’s piercing glare.
"Please, let's just go," Mu'az urged.
Darma said nothing. He slid his two phones into his pocket, stood up, and said, "You'll have to wait for me here until I get back, then we can leave."
"Ah, no, let's go together since I brought the car. But I won't let you drive; I don't want you crashing us with that crazy speed of yours."
"Fine, then let's forget the whole trip."
Mu'az laughed. "I really want to see the woman who will marry you, because she has a mountain of work ahead of her."
Ignoring him, Nura walked out of the shop. At that exact moment, a sleek white car parked right next to Mu'az's car. Dr. Nura didn't care to look at the car; he simply took Mu'az's keys and confidently headed toward the driver's seat, exuding an air of arrogance, assuming it was Bilkisu inside the car. His assumption was correct. As he was about to get into the car, he heard her voice saying, "Doctor, please, I will..."
He completely ignored her and got into the car without giving her a single glance. Mu'az took one look at her, shook his head, and hopped into the passenger seat, knowing that even if he spoke to Dr. Nura about it, Nura would completely ignore her.
Bilkisu seemed like a lady who would ordinarily carry herself with class as an educated woman, but right now, there was no sign of that class. 'She's desperate,' Mu'az thought to himself, looking at his friend who had tightly wound his face into a deep frown. Mu'az just smiled and said nothing.
Dr. Nura Darma was genuinely irritated by the girl. It had only been six days since he first met her when she came to buy medicine. The very next day, she returned claiming the medicine he gave her was too strong and demanded a replacement. She then asked for his contact details so she could call him to deliver a replacement to her house if this one didn't work. The fierce, menacing look he gave her back then sent her packing immediately. And here she was again today; he didn't even know what she wanted this time.
"Swear down, my friend, I love Fatimah more than I can count. That's why the wedding date was set even while you were away. But now that you're here, the wedding will happen. Maybe you'll even find your own choice at the wedding..." Mu'az's words interrupted Nura's train of thought.
For the first time, Nura let out a brief, reserved, yet incredibly attractive smile that made him look stunningly handsome. In his deep voice, he said, "As for me, I was given away a long time ago."
He finished speaking just as they drove into the motor park. He wondered if he would even recognize Ahyaan. It had been eight years and a few months since he last saw her. Though, he knew that troublesome girl would likely struggle to recognize him too. He smirked as he recalled their last fight on the eve of his departure to London, where she had fiercely bitten him on his big thumb. They were both 20 years old at the time...
"Hey, my friend, I think that's her over there!" Mu'az said, pointing toward a striking young lady standing with her rolling suitcase.
She was well-proportioned, dressed in a sleek black women's skirt suit. Her face was adorned with large, trendy black sunglasses, the hallmark of sophisticated, modern ladies. She had draped a white veil over her head, matching her inner shirt. She wore incredibly high heels and carried a white handbag. Her face was devoid of makeup, yet she was breathtakingly beautiful. No man could lay eyes on her and look away easily. One glance, and you would instinctively call her a classic lady. She possessed an absolute peak level of beauty.
This was Ahyaan! A girl full of poise and class. From head to toe, everything about her was stunning. She had a perfectly shaped physique that easily drew men's attention. Her skin was a rare, rich chocolate tone. Her oval face featured a perfectly sculpted nose and large, beautiful white eyes—Masha Allah! Despite her gorgeous face, she was currently frowning deeply, irritated by the fact that no one had arrived on time to pick her up, leaving her standing in the heat. She knew that "this arrogant man" (Dr. Nura) had been sent to pick her up, and he had deliberately delayed out of sheer spite. She had heard of his return to Nigeria from her mother two weeks ago. Her heart was brimming with anger—she was naturally hot-tempered, after all. She resolved that she would just take a commercial tricycle (Napep) home and report his behavior to Mamy to stir up a storm. With that thought, she adjusted her posture and raised her hand to hail a passing tricycle.
Gulp! A man named Mr. Mahuta, who sat in his car staring at Ahyaan as if watching a television screen, swallowed hard. He drove his car up to her side, stopped, and stepped out. At that moment, the tricycle she hailed was also approaching.
All of this unfolded right before the eyes of Nura Darma. Ever since Mu'az pointed her out, Nura had given her a single glance and looked away. Now, he watched as Mr. Mahuta approached her.
"My friend, I think you need to get out and speak to her so she comes with us," Mu'az said. "Look at that guy trying to talk to her. Just by looking at him, you can tell his intentions aren't pure based on how he's staring." Nura ignored Mu'az and refused to say a word.
"Hello, beautiful lady! Good afternoon," Ahyaan heard Mr. Mahuta’s voice behind her, followed by the heavy scent of his cologne.
Wrinkling her nose, she scoffed and walked straight toward the tricycle driver, completely ignoring the man. She felt an instant wave of disgust toward him. That was simply her nature—whoever showed romantic interest in her immediately became her enemy. This was why, even at 28 years old, she was not yet married. It wasn't for a lack of suitors, but simply because she didn't want to, and the time hadn't come. At first glance, one would think she wasn't a day over 20 or 23, thanks to the beautiful, youthful physique Allah had blessed her with.
Mr. Mahuta smiled; the girl had completely captured his desires. He locked his eyes onto her waist, staring intently while harboring vulgar thoughts. Lowering his voice, he said, "Come on, baby. A lady like you shouldn't be standing in the sun trying to board a Napep. It's beneath your class, because..."
He couldn't finish his sentence. Ahyaan spun around, sucked her teeth loudly, and rolled her eyes fiercely at him from behind her sunglasses. Turning her attention back to the tricycle driver, she said, "We are going to G.R.A, Baya Jidda Road." She glared at the driver too, noticing how he was staring at her, eyes half-closed, completely mesmerized by her voice, which sounded as sweet as the blowing of a flute.
Just as the driver was about to speak, Ahyaan felt someone step up right behind her. A rich, soothing, premium fragrance filled the air, completely overpowering both her own perfume and Mr. Mahuta’s cologne. Her heart skipped a beat just as she heard a commanding, slightly heavy yet sharp voice utter:
"Hey! Move it and get into the car. Let's go."
He spoke with absolute seriousness, his upper and lower eyebrows drawn together in a fierce frown. Even without turning around, she instantly recognized his voice. She turned around with her usual arrogant poise, plastering a sarcastic smirk on her face—a smirk that nearly drove Mahuta and the tricycle driver crazy as they watched.
However, her heart secretly thudded when she saw how much Darma had changed. He looked like a mature, robust man in his mid-35s. Every physical trait of a powerful, alpha male was evident in his build. He possessed an incredible aura of authority that commanded the space around him, especially with that stern expression. Even though she knew he was handsome in the past, his current looks far surpassed what she remembered.
She stared at him for two seconds, rolled her eyes at him with immense attitude, turned her head away dismissively, and said cutely yet venomously:
"Excuse me, mister? Why are you standing over me? Who even are you, and what do you want with me?!"
She snapped, screwing up her face as she reached out to push her rolling suitcase into the commercial tricycle... ✍️

2. Character Descriptions

Based on this opening sequence, the characters are deeply detailed with contrasting traits that set up a classic "enemies-to-lovers" or "rivals reunited" dynamic:

• Dr. Nura Darma ("Baban Su Wanka" / "Yah Shaikh"): A tall, highly handsome, chocolate-skinned man around 35 years old. He is highly educated, holding both Western degrees (having spent 8 years in London) and deep Islamic knowledge. He is deeply religious (regularly listens to the Quran, fasts twice a week, and has a prayer mark on his forehead), extremely hygienic, meticulously organized, and a fitness enthusiast. Personality-wise, he is serious, silent, arrogant, short-tempered, and completely unbothered by female attention (as seen with Bilkisu).
• Ahyaan (The "Classic Lady"): A gorgeous, high-class 28-year-old woman who has just completed her mandatory NYSC service in Kaduna. She possesses a rare chocolate skin tone, a perfect physique, and looks much younger than her age (20–23). She is incredibly stylish (wearing modern skirt suits, high heels, and designer sunglasses) but possesses a fierce, hot-tempered, and arrogant personality. She holds a strong disdain for suitors, viewing anyone who hits on her as an enemy.
• Mamy: Dr. Nura’s mother. She is around 48 years old, elegant, and shares a strong genetic resemblance with her son. She fiercely loves and protects Ahyaan, losing all tolerance for Nura's rigid attitude whenever Ahyaan is involved.
• Mu'az: Nura's close friend. He is lighthearted, playful, and expressive. Unlike Nura, he is happily preparing for his upcoming wedding to his "princess" Fatimah and acts as the comedic, observational bridge between Nura and his sour moods.

• Mr. Mahuta & Bilkisu: Supporting characters representing unwanted romantic advances. Bilkisu pursues Nura desperately at his chemist shop, while Mr. Mahuta represents the typical smooth-talking, predatory man trying to hit on Ahyaan at the motor park.

  3. Excerpt Summary

  This excerpt serves as the introductory chapter of a Hausa romance/drama novel set in Katsina State. It establishes the wealthy, highly disciplined lifestyle of Dr. Nura Darma and introduces his deep-seated childhood rivalry with Ahyaan, a girl his mother dotes on. After spending eight years studying in London, Nura is forced by his mother to pick up Ahyaan from the motor park following her return from her NYSC service in Kaduna.
  When they meet at the park, both have undergone stunning physical transformations into highly attractive adults, yet their old, hostile attitudes remain intact. The scene closes on a high-tension note: Ahyaan deliberately tries to humiliate Nura by boarding a local commercial tricycle and pretending not to know him, setting the stage for a fiery, pride-clashing relationship as they cross paths once again in their adulthood.