As you know, my name is Zainab Umar Gobir. My father is a native of Sabon Birni in Sokoto State and a well-known intellectual, holding the rank of a Professor. He and his younger sister, Khadija, are the only children of their parents. My mother is also from Sokoto State; their marriage was arranged because their parents were close friends. My mother is also educated and earned her Master’s degree while married to my father.
We are five children, and I am the only girl. Yaya Isma’il is the eldest, a skilled medical doctor with one wife (Anty Nasma) and two children. Then Yaya Abbas, who is the most hot-tempered—he is a lecturer at Usmanu Dan Fodio University and has one wife (Anty Yasmin) and three children. Next is Yaya Mu’azzam, who works at the NNPC; he has one wife and one child. Then Yaya Mubarak, a soldier stationed in Ibadan. And finally, me—the favorite of my father and mother.
Being the only girl, I grew up showered with love and attention from my parents and brothers. I never lacked anything I desired. Even my aunt who lives in Kaduna, whenever she visited with her children (Yaya Bashir and Anty Halima), their goal was to make me happy. I can truly say I was the joy of our home.
From childhood, my dream was to study Mass Communication. My parents and brothers encouraged this, although it wasn't what they initially wanted—my father wanted me to be a doctor. When Yaya Abbas found out I wanted to study Journalism, he fought against it, but my father stepped in and told him to let me follow my passion.
My best friend was my mother; I consulted her on everything, even when boys approached me. It was from her that I learned everything.
My life changed after meeting Lawal. He was a handsome, stylish man—the type often called "hard to resist." We met after my secondary school graduation at the wedding of my friend Hafsa’s sister. His charm caught my attention, and when he approached me, I stopped to listen.
"I don't blame you for ignoring me the first time, because you deserve better, you beauty," he had said. "But I beg you, for God’s sake, lend me just three minutes of your time."
I responded with the coy attitude I felt rising in me: "I'm listening. I'll give you two minutes because I need to get home early."
"Thank you, Beauty," he replied. "Since you walked in, my eyes haven't left you. I thank God I was invited to this wedding because I met you."
I left soon after, but my heart was racing. I had begun to receive a new signal from this man with the melodic voice.
When I reached our gate, I honked, and the old gateman opened it, smiling. "Welcome, the joy of our house."
Inside, Yaya Bashir—who was my favorite confidant after my parents—was there. He teased me, singing and clapping as I danced. We were inseparable whenever he was in Sokoto.
That night, after dinner, I sat next to my father, showing him the computer I wanted him to buy for me. He promised, but added a solemn piece of advice: "I will buy whatever you want, Zainab, as long as you focus on your studies. I wanted you to be a doctor, but my desire cannot dim your own. That is the mistake parents make—forcing a child into a field they don't love, leading to failure. My only wish is that you hold onto your dignity and the honor of our family. You are our joy, so please, don't throw dirt in our eyes."

The Intrigue Begins

That night, I couldn't sleep. Lawal’s words kept circling in my mind. Then, a text message arrived:
"Goodnight, my Beauty. I hope you got home safely. Tonight, I will sleep with my phone on my chest because it contains the number of someone precious. Sleep peacefully."
I read the message over and over. From that day on, it became a ritual—he would text me morning, noon, and night, though he never called, and I never replied. Yet, I became addicted to reading those messages.
One day, I was so distracted while cooking that I burned the stew. My mother scolded me, sensing I was hiding something, but I lied and said everything was fine.
Eventually, I gave in to my curiosity and saved his number under the name "MAYENA" (My Enchanter). I tried to call him, but his phone was off. My heart sank, and I realized how deeply I had become attached to his virtual presence.
Later, my life proceeded at Usmanu Dan Fodio University. I drove my own car despite my brother Abbas’s protests. But that man, Lawal, remained stuck in my heart.
One day, on my way home, my car stalled in a deserted area. Panicking, I called my mother, who told me she would send a mechanic and advised me to find a tricycle (napep) to get home.

Analytical Commentary

• The Contrast of Upbringing: The author uses Zainab’s affluent, loving background to contrast with the reality she eventually faces in her marriage. Her childhood was filled with "Gata" (privilege/protection), which makes her eventual domestic struggle more tragic.
• The "Text-Message" Romance: This is a very modern Hausa literary device. The romance is built entirely on digital interaction, which creates a false sense of intimacy. Zainab falls in love with a persona created through eloquent texts before she truly understands Lawal’s character.
• The Father’s Foreshadowing: The father’s speech about "dignity" and "honor" acts as dramatic irony. The reader already knows (from the previous chapters) that Zainab’s marriage ends up being a source of pain, making the father’s well-intentioned advice heartbreaking.
• The Slow Decay of Agency: Zainab starts as an ambitious student with a supportive family, but she is slowly being broken down by Lawal’s manipulations. The transition from the "Beauty" he texts to the "useless wife" he insults in his home is the core of the story's conflict.