AJALI (DESTINY)

Author: Shafi'u Dauda Giwa
Digital Edition: Shuraih Usman (hausaebooks)

CHAPTER ONE

"To be completely honest with you, Nazifi, you just have to accept what I’m about to tell you. My advice is simple: let this go and forget about that girl. She is definitely not the type you can journey with."
Nazifi stared at his friend in sheer shock and utter disbelief. "What do you mean 'let it go,' Jamilu? I don't understand what you're getting at."
Jamilu shifted uncomfortably on the long wooden bench they were sharing. "Look, Nazifi, it's not that the girl lacks good character. No, she actually seems quite virtuous. The problem I'm anticipating for you lies entirely with her father. I know exactly what kind of man he is. From the moment you described the girl to me, I started worrying that you were blindly leaping into a trap."
Nazifi frowned, even more confused. "Come on, Jamilu, what kind of talk is that? How can I meet a girl just last night, fall for her instantly, and reach an understanding where we make promises to each other, only for you to tell me to dump her? You know very well that what you're asking makes absolutely no sense."
"I am not trying to drive a wedge between you and her, Nazifi," Jamilu clarified. "What I am trying to show you is that this girl's family is not strange to me. I know their house because we used to live in that neighborhood. That is how I know for a fact that you cannot endure her father's toxic traits."
The two young men locked eyes in a tense silence. Nazifi finally spoke: "But I still don't understand the great issue you're hinting at that should make me walk away. And you've refused to tell me who her father even is. She only described the location of their house to me; she didn't mention her father's name."
Jamilu paused for a brief moment, then leaned in. "Her father is well-known around here. His name is Alhaji Dage. It’s highly unlikely you haven't heard stories about him."
"I don't know him, Jamilu," Nazifi replied. "But since you’ve brought him up, I think you should give me a brief summary of his character so I can understand the problems you're talking about."
Jamilu glanced cautiously to the left and right of the street outside the house, ensuring no one was lingering around to eavesdrop on their conversation. Once he was certain they were completely alone, he turned his full attention back to Nazifi, who sat rigidly, waiting to listen.
"Forgive me, Nazifi, but I am going to tell you the raw truth about him. To be blunt, Alhaji Dage never gives his daughters' hands in marriage to poor men. He has married off at least five of his daughters, and from what I gather, not a single one of them was allowed to marry a poor man like you. In fact, according to some sources, if you marry into Alhaji Dage's house, you are strictly required to pay him a fixed monthly salary. Look at yourself, Nazifi—you are a poor man. For God’s sake, think carefully about your future and don’t look for trouble where there is peace. Just forget about her and find a girlfriend whose status matches your financial strength."
Nazifi fell into a deep, silent reverie, weighing his friend's words. After a long pause, he muttered, "But this whole thing is so baffling, Jamilu. You should have seen how she clung to me at the party last night. Wherever I turned, she was stuck to me like chewing gum. We even made a firm promise that I would pay her a visit this very evening."
Jamilu burst out laughing. "So, just from a first encounter, you’re already losing sleep, Nazifi? Is she going to take you to court if you decide to stop pursuing her? Look, I've given you my piece of advice. If you take it, it will benefit you. If you choose to turn a deaf ear to it, that’s entirely on you. As your friend, I’ve cleared my conscience by telling you the honest truth since you asked."
Having delivered his warning, Jamilu looked away, giving his friend some space to process the information.
Nazifi rested his chin in his hand, deeply troubled by Jamilu's revelations. His mind drifted back to the previous night, replaying the exact moment he met the girl at his friend's wedding party.
She had been one of the bride's main bridesmaids, looking radiant in a striking blue headtie. Nazifi, using the smooth confidence of a young man well-versed in approaching beautiful girls at such social gatherings, had expertly signaled her from across the room.
The beautiful girl had stepped away from her circle of friends to join him in a slightly secluded corner, while the rest of the guests remained fully absorbed in the festivities.
"If you wouldn't mind, beautiful, I would love to steal just five minutes of your time. There's something small I'd love to share with you."
The girl cast him a knowing, sophisticated glance, displaying the poise of a modern, confident woman. She replied smoothly, "Aside from everything else, handsome, have you ever seen anyone turn down a handsome stranger? Don't worry at all, go ahead with your explanation. I'm listening."
Nazifi flashed a joyous, appreciative smile. "I'm incredibly happy that you've given me a chance, and I really appreciate how warm and welcoming you are."
He paused momentarily before continuing. "My name is Nazifi, and I am a native of this town—my parents were born and raised here too. To be completely upfront with you, I am not a wealthy man. I am a carpenter by trade; that's how I earn my living, feed myself, and take care of my little expenses. That is a brief history of who I am. I wanted to share this so you know exactly who you're dealing with before you answer the questions I'm about to ask."
"And what question would that be, Mr. Nazifi?"
He smiled warmly. "Mhm! The question isn't a secret. I simply want to know if you could love me, and more importantly, if you could marry me? To be completely honest, I am madly in love with you, my lady. Haven't you noticed that ever since this party started, my eyes have been entirely fixed on you?"
She laughed softly. "I have heard your explanation, Mr. Nazifi, and I am happy to tell you that you have found a place in my heart. Truthfully, I am very fond of a man with a good sense of humor like yours."
They both burst into a shared, hearty laugh.
"Don't boost my ego too much, or I'll start showing off in front of other girls!"
"It's not flattery, Nazifi, I am speaking the absolute truth."
He lowered his head slightly, a joyful smile playing on his lips. "I honestly don't even know how to thank you enough, and yet I still don't even know your name."
She gave him a playful, charming smile. "Don't worry, Nazifi. You can call me A'ISHA."
"Mhm! Your name is incredibly beautiful. You know, I once had a dream that I would marry a beautiful woman named A'isha."
They laughed together again, and she teased, "Wow, mister, you never run out of funny things to say!"
It felt like a miracle; within those mere five minutes, the rapport between them grew so deep it felt as though they had been dating for five years. After giving him detailed directions to her family's house, he also described where his home was located. He then looked at her tenderly.
"I hope this wedding party won't be the end of us, A'isha?"
She looked back at him. "As far as I'm concerned, it's definitely not the end. But if that's truly how you feel in your heart, what's stopping you from coming to visit me so I can be sure you're serious?"
Nazifi eagerly asked, "When should I come to see you then, A'isha?"
She threw another warm smile his way. "You can come as early as tomorrow, Nazifi. I am always at home; I rarely go anywhere."
"Expect me this evening then, A'isha. By God's grace, you will see me."
She added earnestly, "Please make sure you come, Nazifi. Truly, you have captured my heart. I never get tired of listening to you speak; it feels like we shouldn't even part ways right now."
They shared a final, happy laugh before parting.
That encounter was the root of the entire matter. Even after the party ended and he returned home, he couldn't stop thinking about the young woman. He was completely restless, wishing the hours away so evening would arrive for him to go and see her.
However, he had made a firm resolve in his mind that before heading to her house, he would inform his business partner and close friend, Jamilu. Up until they left the venue the previous night, he hadn't uttered a single word to Jamilu about what had transpired between him and the girl.
Nazifi’s deep daydreaming was suddenly shattered when he felt Jamilu firmly shake his shoulder. He looked up at his friend, visibly startled.
"What on earth are you brooding over, Nazifi? I gave you a couple of minutes to think things over, and you've been zoned out for almost ten minutes!"
Nazifi let out a heavy sigh. "Honestly, Jamilu, I am just thinking about her."
"Thinking about who?" Jamilu asked.
"What else have we been discussing, Jamilu? I'm thinking about my love, A'isha, of course. Or have you forgotten already?"
Jamilu stared at him in complete bewilderment. "Wait, so after all the sound advice I just gave you, you haven't taken any of it to heart, Nazifi? Wow. I actually thought you had dropped the whole matter. When you went quiet, I assumed your mind had moved on to something else."
Nazifi looked away, a heavy cloud of anxiety settling over his face, before turning back to his friend.
"To be completely honest with you, Jamilu, I don't feel like I can give up on A'isha, especially since she loves me too. I know her father is said to be terrifying, but surely he won't murder me just because I confess my love for his daughter."
Meanwhile, inside a luxurious living room, a thin-faced man stepped out of his private bedroom. He was holding a newspaper, wearing a massive pair of thick, white-rimmed glasses, and looking on as his raging wife violently grabbed their beautiful daughter, A'isha, by the collar, shaking her furiously.
"By your father's soul, tell me right now: who is this new boyfriend you've changed to?!" the woman roared.
A'isha burst into fresh tears, throwing her hands over her head in despair.
"You have truly become a rebellious brat, A'isha! How dare you look me straight in the eye and tell me you don't love Gali anymore because you found a new boyfriend? You better tell me whose useless son he is in this town before I beat the living daylights out of you!"
With a vicious shove, she threw the girl roughly onto the soft cushions of the beautifully arranged sofa set.
"That is enough."
The thin man spoke up in a calm, flat tone. His face carried no trace of anger or joy. However, looking through the wide lenses of his oversized glasses, it was obvious that he was completely against his wife brutalizing his daughter—the absolute apple of his eye—even though he didn't yet know what offense the girl had committed.
His wife, Juma, snapped her head up to look at him, panting heavily as if her breath was about to fail her. She had been so consumed by her rage that she hadn't even noticed when Alhaji Dage walked into the living room until he spoke.
"What exactly has she done to you this time, Juma, to warrant such a savage beating? If a terrible accident happens during this madness, you'll end up breaking her bones for nothing."
Releasing her tight grip on the girl's collar, Juma stepped back. A'isha quickly stood up, sobbing bitterly, and ran straight into her bedroom.
Alhaji Dage watched her retreat. Normally, when he wore his thick white glasses, it was nearly impossible for anyone to read his facial expressions. But this time, despite the massive frames dominating his thin face, visible signs of deep worry managed to break through.
"I asked you: what is her offense, huh?"
Juma looked at him, her face tight with immense frustration. "Didn't you hear the argument we were having right before you walked in?"
"That is not what I asked you. Whether I heard it or not is my business. Just answer the question I put to you."
The volatile woman took a sharp breath, her entire face drenched in sweat as though she had just finished a grueling physical labor.
"Alhaji, can you believe that worthless girl came into my room to announce that with only eight days left until her wedding to Gali, she doesn't love him anymore? She had the nerve to tell me she has found a new boyfriend whom she prefers!"
Alhaji Dage pulled off his massive glasses in utter shock. The news struck him so hard that the newspaper nearly slipped from his trembling hands. He asked in a panicked, fearful tone, "Did you say she changed her boyfriend...?"
"Exactly! And if you doubt my words, I can call her out right now so she can repeat it to your face so you can hear it yourself."
The thin man exhaled a long, heavy sigh. The very first thought that struck terror into his heart was financial ruin: If this girl rebels and this entire wedding arrangement collapses, where on earth am I going to find the hundreds of thousands of Naira we have already extorted and spent from that young man?
If they were to calculate everything meticulously, they had sucked at least one million Naira out of the groom, all under the guise of marrying off their daughter as if she were made of solid gold. And because the young man was completely infatuated with A'isha, he had kept giving blindly. Alhaji Dage knew that once the marriage was finalized, he wouldn't be able to demand a monthly salary from him anymore.
"This girl is trying to ruin my life's calculations," Alhaji Dage muttered to himself in a panic. "If this wedding fails, I have absolutely no idea how I will handle that boy."
He continued to pace and ramble to himself while his wife stood by, watching him closely.

CHAPTER TWO

In reality, Juma was cut from the exact same cloth as her husband; she possessed no moral superiority. However, she was far more aggressive and domineering. Despite Alhaji Dage's notorious reputation in the public eye for having a fierce temper and zero patience, the moment he stepped inside his own house, he became as limp and compliant as a wet rag.
His wife, Juma, was far more volatile than he was. Whenever a conflict arose between them, he never won because her tongue was far sharper than his. Consequently, he resorted to constantly humoring and tolerating her, fully aware that his glory days were long gone.
Back when he was wealthy, before his finances suffered a catastrophic collapse, she knew better than to challenge him. But now that she saw his wealth had dried up and he was reduced to relying on petty street schemes to survive, she completely stopped showing him any respect under his own roof.
"So, where did she even meet this new boyfriend, and whose son is he in this town anyway?" Alhaji Dage inquired, his voice stripped of confidence.
Juma pouted angrily and snapped, "She didn't tell me who he is! She only stated bluntly that she will not marry Gali. Personally, I believe this happened at that cursed wedding party of her friend's that she attended yesterday. She met the boy there, because she didn't return to this house until the dead of night."
Alhaji Dage unrolled his newspaper and began using it to furiously fan himself, as a nervous sweat was now breaking out across his own skin.
"But Juma, why on earth do you allow this girl to attend these parties? You know how the world has changed. It's at these wretched modern parties that young girls lose their morals, become completely rebellious, and bring unbearable shame upon their families."
"Well, the damage is already done," Juma retorted sharply. "If we're talking about rebellion, A'isha has already crossed that line by looking me dead in the eye and demanding a change of groom. So right now, it is up to us to find a way out. This useless bickering won't solve our problem."
Alhaji Dage took another deep breath and nodded slowly at his wife. "Yes, you actually have a point there, Juma. Even if things fall apart entirely, the girl won't bear the brunt of it; we are the ones who will be held accountable. A solution must be found."
He paused, collecting his thoughts, before addressing his wife in a low, calculating tone. "I think our best option is to wait and see this new boyfriend. There's a good chance he might be very wealthy. If he can provide us with one million Naira to completely refund everything Gali spent on her, then I don't see any problem at all. Let him give us the million, we will dismiss Gali, and hand the marriage over to him."
Inside her bedroom, A'isha had spent over an hour lying across her bed, weeping bitterly in isolation. In all her life, she had never found herself in such an intense state of emotional distress.
Slowing her tears, she sat up on the edge of the mattress. She fixed her gaze intensely on the bedroom wall, her eyes unblinking. In reality, she wasn't looking at the wall at all; her mind, heart, and entire soul were completely consumed by the thoughts of the young man she had met at her friend's party the night before.
Ever since they parted ways and she returned home, she had firmly decided that even if she were to be cooked alive in a boiling pot, she would never submit to marrying the man named Gali.
She knew deep down that she was being aggressively forced into the union. She didn't possess an atom of affection for Gali. But now that Allah had crossed her path with Nazifi, she felt a profound sense of hope and relief.
A'isha was fully aware of her father's toxic pattern. This wasn't the first time he was forcing his daughters into arranged marriages with wealthy tycoons just for financial gain. All five of her elder sisters had been subjected to forced marriages. However, she was fiercely resolved that this cycle would break at her turn.
No matter how dangerous things became, she would never cooperate, despite knowing that her father had drained a fortune from her suitor. Her groom, Gali, was a soldier who had been deployed to the war in Sierra Leone. It was widely rumored that his sudden display of massive wealth came from his time in the war zone—some said the government paid them millions, while others claimed he acquired his fortune directly in that foreign country. Regardless of the source, everyone knew the soldier was swimming in cash.
Unfortunately for Gali, his mountain of money had completely failed to buy him a place in A'isha's heart. Whenever he came to visit her, he would end up doing all the talking alone; she wouldn't offer him a single word of encouragement or engagement. Yet, despite this agonizing drama, the days were fast ticking down to their official wedding ceremony.
A'isha wiped away the stray tears rolling down her cheeks, forcing her weak knees to stand. She stepped away from the bed, knowing that Nazifi could arrive at any moment to find her in this disheveled state. She needed to quickly clean herself up before his arrival.
She headed straight into the bathroom, took a refreshing bath, and emerged looking completely radiant, as if no trouble weighed on her mind. She brought out her cosmetics and began to meticulously apply her makeup. Throughout the process, her heart beat with the thought of Nazifi.
A small smile touched her lips as she reflected on how she had just endured a brutal beating simply for declaring her love for him. She whispered aloud to her reflection, "Don't worry, A'isha, you haven't lost anything. If fighting for true love means enduring a beating as harsh as a knife wound, so be it. You didn't suffer in vain, A'isha, the spoiled last-born of the family. Love is far greater than any game."
Finishing her preparations, she checked herself in the full-length mirror, thoroughly satisfied with her appearance. She smiled, knowing this exquisite makeover would be entirely worth the effort because it would be seen by the man who truly loved her. If it were that insufferable soldier coming to visit, she wouldn't dare waste a single second trying to look beautiful. In fact, if there were something she could wear or apply to her skin that would make Gali instantly lose interest in her, she would have done it long ago just to rid her life of his relentless obsession.
In all her days, she had never encountered a human being as stubbornly persistent as the soldier her family had chosen for her. No matter how deeply she insulted and humiliated him, his obsession only seemed to intensify, keeping him glued to her side.
She was only fortunate that he was currently out of town on a journey, away until the wedding date drew closer. Had he been around, he would have long since overwhelmed her with his relentless and irritating presence.
A'isha’s train of thought was suddenly broken by the voice of a young boy calling out a greeting from the doorway. She answered, and the boy pushed the door open to step inside.
"There is a man outside who told me to call you. He is waiting out there."
A'isha felt her heart skip a beat. She asked anxiously, "Did he tell you his name?"
The boy paused for a second before replying, "Yes, he did. He said I should tell you that Nazifi wants to see you."
A'isha caught her breath, a brilliant smile lighting up her face. She said to the boy, "Please, hurry back and tell him that I am on my way out this very second!"
"Alright," the boy replied politely, turning to leave.
The moment he exited, she rushed over to her wardrobe, selected a stunning, high-quality pink lace outfit, and began changing into it with frantic haste. Her entire being was filled with an intense longing to go out and meet him; his memory was all she had held onto through the night.
However, what the young woman completely failed to realize was that she wasn't the only one ecstatic about the young man's arrival. Outside her room, her father was equally thrilled by the visitor's presence. Alhaji Dage sat quietly in his room, completely eager and impatient to confront this new suitor and deliver his absolute verdict: a demand for a cold, hard sum of one million Naira if he truly desired to marry the beautiful A'isha.

CHAPTER THREE

She stepped out of the house, her face bright and glowing with a joyful, uncontained smile. One look at her expression would tell anyone that behind that beautiful face lay a monumental piece of good news—news that would undoubtedly bring immense happiness to whoever she was about to share it with...