AUREN BARE (Marriage to a Stranger)

{Hot Love}
A Free Book By Autar Manya
Pages 1, 2, & 3
In the name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful. All praise and thanks belong to Allah, the Most High. May His peace and blessings be upon the best of creation, the seal of the prophets, the first and the last, our leader and guide, Prophet Muhammad (S.A.W). Amen.

Page 1: Garin Kano, Unguwar Sharada (Kano City, Sharada Quarters)

It was a beautiful, overcast afternoon. Dark storm clouds were gathering from all directions, casting a deep twilight-like shadow across the sky as the storm loomed. Three young girls were walking down the street, each carrying a bucket of clean, filtered water—locally referred to as dan ballasa.
Looking closely at them, it was clear they were not all the same age. The fair-skinned girl among them was plump, possessing the full, mature figure of a young woman. A single glance revealed her young age; she couldn't be more than 16 years old. The other two girls were also fair, though not as fair as her. They were identical twins, roughly 18 years old. It was easy to see they were older than the plump, fair girl, yet they clearly shared the same blood because of their striking resemblance. The younger girl only stood out because of her voluptuous stature and brighter skin.
One of the twins turned to the fair girl and said, "Haba, Bebi! Can’t you see it's getting late? We really need to head home for Allah's sake. You know how Mama gets frantic. I bet she's pacing back and forth at the front gate right now." She turned to her twin sister, adding, "Isn't that right, Hassana?"
Hassana let out a sharp hiss and cut in. "Bebi, for Allah's sake, stop chasing these debtors and let’s just go home. Tomorrow is another day! Wallahi, you keep getting us into trouble, and people refuse to buy our awara (soy cakes) because of your constant fighting." She spoke with deep irritation.
The fair girl, whose name was Bebi, looked at them defiantly and snapped, "Don't stress me out! Wallahi, I am going back to get Mama's money. I am not their father's slave!" She breathed heavily, looking ready to sprint.
Hassana’s eyes welled up with tears. "Please, Bebi, have patience and let's go. I promise I will collect the money myself tomorrow."
Bebi glared at them, slammed her bucket onto the ground, and took off sprinting, completely unhindered by her heavy frame.
Hassana and Hussaina stood with their mouths agape, watching their younger sister run. There was nothing they could do. Bebi feared no one; she was shameless, loud-mouthed, stubborn, and loved to argue. As a light drizzle began to fall, the twins hurried home, their hearts filled with anxiety over what trouble Bebi might run into.

The Confrontation at the Junction

Bebi sprinted fiercely until she reached the main junction of Sharada. Exhausted, she stopped to catch her breath. By now, the rain was coming down steadily. She untied her hijab from her head and tied it around her waist. Without realizing it, this left her large breasts—which she deeply resented and viewed as a burden—tightly outlined against her blouse.
She marched aggressively over to a concrete platform where a group of young men were loitering. Locking her eyes onto her target, she demanded fiercely, "Hey, Siba! Give me my 200 Naira for my awara right now, or wallahi we are going to put on a show for everyone here!" She stood with her hands on her hips, her aggressive movements causing her chest to heave—something she wasn't tracking, but the boys certainly were.
Siba stood up from the group, stroking his beard and licking his lower lip. He stared at her with a predatory gaze. Before he could speak, the light drizzle turned into a heavy downpour.
With pure lust in his eyes, he smirked. "If you let me touch right here," he pointed directly at her chest, "I’ll pay you double your money. But if you want to be stubborn, I’ll just pocket your cash and we'll see who is brave enough to collect it from me."
The other men burst into malicious laughter, egging him on. Furious, Bebi glared at him. "Drop dead! You think you can touch my body with your filthy, disgusting hands? Your mother should have given birth to a cripple instead!" She quickly began pulling her hijab back over her torso.
Siba laughed and reached out to grab the collar of her hijab. But before his hand could even reach her, SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! Bebi slapped his face three times with blinding speed.
Her eyes rolled back in pure rage. "You miserable dog! You worthless goat! My body is far too good for a lowlife like—"
Before she could finish, Siba struck her across the face. Another young man, Okasha, stepped in and scolded Siba. "Haba, Baba, you're making a mess of things. How can you let a woman see your weakness? Move past her and leave her to her madness." He cast a contemptuous look at Bebi.
Embarrassed and trying to save face in front of his friend, Siba scoffed. "You're right, Oka. Let me leave this idiot alone. She doesn't have Islamic literacy or Western education. Just a poor girl from a house of beggars, a street hawker..." He walked away, following Okasha.
They left Bebi standing there completely frozen in the pouring rain, empty-handed and soaking wet. Tears of bitter frustration spilled from her eyes. Her heart burned with a rage she couldn't contain. Growing up, Bebi prided herself on being tough and never crying, but today her defenses crumbled. She dragged her feet away, feeling the cold rain drenching her skin.

Page 2: The Police Station

Bebi marched straight into the Sharada Police Station, water dripping heavily from her clothes. A short, dark-skinned police officer saw her approach. Eyeballing the beautiful, fair-skinned young girl, he smiled broadly and stepped closer. "Well, well, Madam. Is everything okay? What are you doing out in this heavy rain?"
Bebi took a step back, instantly clocking his predatory demeanor. She composed herself and spoke with the absolute authority of an adult woman. "Officer, I am here to file a complaint. I want justice."
She detailed exactly what happened with Siba, leaving out no details, including the three slaps she delivered and the blow she received in return. Bebi was inherently an honest girl who despised lying. She concluded, "If possible, Officer, I want you to get a police vehicle and follow me so I can show you where he is, so you can recover my 200 Naira."
The officer burst into uncontrollable laughter. He stared at her, wondering if she was mentally unstable, but her clean appearance and sharp focus proved otherwise. He composed himself and frowned slightly. "Listen, little sister, is this how people file complaints? Who told you we deal with pocket change?"
Bebi hissed loudly, wiping rainwater from her face. "Look, I came to see the head of this station. If you aren't going to help me get our money back, get out of my way, mister. The rain is freezing me." She threw a sharp grimace at him.
The officer, taken aback by her audacity, stroked his chin. "Fine, let’s go see these thugs. Don't go inside the station; not everyone will understand your temperament."
Bebi followed the officer back to the junction. She pointed directly at Siba, who was sitting under a makeshift shed. Siba's eyes widened in sheer panic when he saw the uniform, looking like a man caught in a massive lie.
"Officer, that's him. He's the one I told you about," Bebi said, glaring at Siba.
The officer looked at Siba sternly. "Hey, my friend. How can you eat a girl's business goods, refuse to pay her, and then go ahead to assault and slap her?"
Despite the cold rain, Siba began sweating profusely. He had heard rumors about this girl's fiery temper but never believed them until today. Who would have thought a girl would drag the police over 200 Naira? If he had known, he would have paid her long ago.
Trying to smooth things over, Siba stammered, "Officer, please forgive me. Bebi, I am sorry. Insha Allah, this will never happen again. Look, here is 500 Naira, wallahi keep the change!" He quickly pulled a crisp bill from his pocket, revealing that his earlier refusal to pay was purely out of malice.
Bebi gave him a look of utter disgust and sneered. "I don’t want money from a thug. Give me exactly what you owe me so I can go home. It's already dark." She turned her face away.
The onlookers and the officer were stunned by her unyielding pride. The officer turned to her. "Haba, she's trying to do you a favor. Why don't you just accept it?"
Bebi gave the officer a sharp glare. "Officer, thank you for your help. Siba, give me my 200 Naira now. I don’t have time to waste."
Siba quickly grabbed two 100-Naira notes from his friend Okasha and handed them over with trembling hands. Without looking back or even thanking the officer, Bebi turned and walked away into the dark, rainy street.

Page 3: The Household

Bebi walked through the alleys of their neighborhood, navigating the long distance back from where they usually sold their goods.
She stopped in front of a small, humble house with a very low mud perimeter wall. Lifting the piece of sackcloth used as a front door curtain, she ducked her head to avoid hitting the low frame, as she was quite tall.
Inside, she collided with a 17-year-old boy. It was her brother, Shahid. He looked at her with disapproval. "You have no shame, wallahi. Every day you find a new way to stress Mama out. Whose house are you coming from now? You've worried everyone." He raised his hand as if to strike her.
Bebi quickly dodged backward, glaring at him. "What is it to you, Shahid? Thugs ate our mother's business food and refused to pay. I went to get our money back because the twins are too cowardly to do it!"
"Oh, so you're the tough one now?" Shahid snapped, scowling. Bebi ignored him and pushed past into the house. Knowing she would give him a piece of her mind if he pushed further, Shahid left to check on the charcoal business he ran at the back of the street.
In the tiny courtyard, Bebi began shouting, "Mama! Mama!! Mama!!! Where are you? Your blessed daughter is back!" She stood tall in the courtyard, waiting.
A strikingly fair, beautiful woman emerged from their single-room house. One look at her confirmed she was Bebi's mother; their resemblance was undeniable. She grabbed Bebi's hand and pulled her into the room, which was furnished simply with a floor mat, a large plastic wardrobe, and a mattress. The twins, Hassana and Hussaina, were sitting on the mattress watching a video on their mother’s phone, while the younger siblings, Arfa and Ihsan, sat to the side eating noodles.
Mama released her hand, her voice trembling with emotion. "Bebi, must you break my heart every single day?"
Bebi looked at her mother. "Mama, I stayed back to get our money. If you think I'm lying, we can go back there together tomorrow."
Mama shook her head. "I don’t want to hear explanations. I tell you every day: if someone eats our food and refuses to pay, leave them to Allah. You are a young woman, Bebi. I don't want you fighting in the streets. You don't know what evil words people can utter against you."
Bebi began stomping her feet, throwing a spoiled tantrum as tears flowed. "Haba, Mama! If we leave our money with them, what are we going to eat? Wallahi Mama, when it comes to my rights, I will fight with everything I have!"
Mama stared at her daughter, astonished by her personality. She didn't take after anyone in the household. Mama's shock deepened as Bebi recounted her entire ordeal, right down to involving the police station. Bebi handed over the 200 Naira she recovered, then looked up with pleading eyes. "Mama, please give me 100 Naira from this so I can buy meat later. My mouth is watering just thinking about it."
Mama was horrified. "So you went out looking for men, stripped off your hijab, and behaved without discipline? Is this the upbringing I gave you? Have you ever seen your older sisters do this, BILKISU? Do you want to give your father's relatives an excuse to mock us? They are just waiting for us to fail!" Mama raised her hand to strike her.
Bebi backed away quickly, waving her hands. "Mama, I won't do it again!"
Mama sat at the edge of the mattress, sighing deeply. The twins watched silently, terrified of intervening because they knew Bebi would easily disrespect them too.
"Ya Salam, I am Aishatu. Oh Allah, bring me relief from this girl’s antics. I gave birth to her body, but certainly not her character," Mama prayed aloud.
Hassana moved closer to her mother, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Mama, have patience. Bebi truly needs your maternal prayers. Keep praying for her, and insha Allah, only good will come of it."
Mama smiled softly, appreciating Hassana’s wisdom and maturity, a trait both twins shared. "That's true. May Allah protect us."
Mama got up and walked out into the courtyard, where she found Bebi sitting in the pouring rain, which had picked up in intensity again. "So you want to get sick so I can spend money buying fever medication, Bebi?"
Bebi looked up, her large eyes wide with fear. "Please Mama, don't beat me. Wallahi I am starving. I haven't eaten since morning."
Deep pity flooded Mama’s heart. She looked at her daughter and said, "I won't hit you, Bebi. Hurry up, go inside with your sisters, but strip off those wet clothes first."
Mama walked into their cramped makeshift kitchen, which could barely fit one person, let alone someone with a full figure like Bebi.
Shivering from the cold, Bebi went into the room. She threw a nasty glare at Hussaina, who was lying comfortably on the mattress, and barked at the younger kids, "Hey, close your eyes! I want to change!"
The children tightly shut their eyes. Bebi opened their plastic wardrobe to shield herself and stripped out of her soaked clothes. She pulled out an old, worn-out atamfa gown and wrapper. The tight fabric hugged her plump body closely. She threw on a hijab, grabbed her wet clothes, and hung them on the clothesline outside despite the rain.
She then went into their clean, small restroom to wash up and perform ablution. Returning to the room, she spread out a prayer mat and performed her late Asr prayer. By the time she finished, the rain had stopped. The twins were outside in the courtyard, cleaning up the rainwater.
Hussaina was sifting corn flour for their dinner—a business supply that Shahid would later hawk around the Sharada market on foot. Hassana was grinding spices and locust beans, while 12-year-old Ihsan washed dishes by the drainage sink.
Bebi marched straight to the kitchen door. "Mama, give me food. I'm hungry."
Mama turned around, her face covered in sweat and smoke from the firewood. Her mother was an exceptionally beautiful woman—strikingly fair, with skin so radiant it looked flushed with blood, though poverty and hard work had dulled her glow over the years. Yet, her raw beauty remained undeniable.
"Bebi, can't you see I am in the middle of stirring the porridge for the tuwo? Can't you wait until I am done?"
Bebi widened her eyes—a defensive habit she had whenever she spoke. She hardened her face, looking ready to burst into tears. "Mama, I am hungry. Wallahi, since the morning porridge, I haven't put a single warm thing in my stomach!" Tears began pouring down her face like an open tap.
Mama ignored her crying and focused on finishing the tuwo. Once done, she walked past a sobbing Bebi and sat down on a small mat next to the twins.
"When will you grow up? I asked you, when will you get some sense?" Mama scolded Bebi. "If there was food in this house, why would I hide it from you? Wallahi, since you girls left to hawk goods, there wasn't a single grain of food in this house. I was sitting here waiting on Allah's mercy. Shahid is the one who brought home a single pack of noodles. I cooked it and split it between Ihsan and him. I've been waiting for you all to return to see what Allah provides next. My entire focus is on pooling Shahid's money and raising your fees so you can enter the 4th grade (Senior Secondary School), but things are stagnant. Yet all you care about is crying for food before the tuwo is even ready." Mama's voice cracked with the painful reality of their extreme poverty.
"Mama, just leave her alone. There is water in the clay pot outside; let her drink that and wait for the tuwo," cut in Hussaina, who was always tougher than her twin, Hassana.
Bebi glared fiercely at Hussaina, let out a massive hiss, and stormed back into the room without a word. She threw herself face-down onto the mattress and wept. "Ya Allah, send us Your divine relief. In this day and age, the poor are suffering immensely..."
Bebi wiped her endless tears, stood up, took off her hijab, and went back out to the courtyard just as the evening Maghrib call to prayer echoed loudly from the neighborhood mosque loudspeaker.
Mama was sitting on a low stool, molding the hot tuwo into clean plastic wraps and stacking them inside a large basin for street hawking. Hussaina and Hassana were opening the plastic wraps while Ihsan handed them over.
Bebi walked over to the well, dropped the bucket, and fetched water to fill her kettle. She went to the restroom to perform her ablution and returned to the room. She sat on the mattress, counting her prayer beads and reciting the morning and evening supplications she had memorized. As the congregation began inside the mosque, Bebi spread her mat and began praying with deep focus. After finishing, she stayed on her knees, crying and praying to Allah to grant her family a way out of their hardship.
Despite her abrasive personality, stubbornness, and short temper, Bebi never compromised on her faith—a direct result of Mama's strict, unyielding insistence on Islamic values. No matter how poor they were, Mama never allowed her children to skip prayers or abandon their education.

Story Summary

Auren Bare (Marriage to a Stranger) is a grassroots northern Nigerian drama set in the impoverished quarters of Sharada, Kano.

• The Protagonist's Plight: The story centers on Bilkisu (popularly called Bebi), a fierce, unapologetic, and physically mature 16-year-old girl. Bebi's family is trapped in severe poverty, forcing the children to hawk awara (soy cakes) and tuwo on the streets to survive. Unlike her submissive older twin sisters, Bebi has a volcanic temper, zero tolerance for injustice, and absolutely no fear of men.
• The Conflict: While hawking, a local neighborhood thug named Siba refuses to pay for Bebi's goods and attempts to sexually harass and extort her. Instead of backing down or crying, Bebi slaps him three times, gets struck back, and goes directly to the local police station to demand his arrest over 200 Naira. Her sheer tenacity forces Siba to pay up in fear.

• Family & Poverty Dynamics: Bebi returns home to a household balanced by a fiercely protective, beautiful, but exhausted mother (Aishatu/Mama) and a hardworking brother (Shahid). The family faces extreme financial strain, to the point where they have no food to eat until the children return from street hawking. Mama's pride is constantly tested as she tries to protect her daughters' reputations from judgmental paternal relatives, while Bebi struggles with the painful reality of hunger and her desire to continue her senior secondary education.

  Character & Setting Description

  The Setting

• Sharada Quarters, Kano City: A bustling, urban-industrial residential area in Kano. The story captures it during a heavy, dark rainy season afternoon. The setting contrasts the gritty, harsh reality of the youth loitering at street junctions with the cramped, mud-walled, single-room households where large families struggle to afford basic daily meals.

  Key Characters

• Bilkisu (Bebi): A 16-year-old fair-skinned girl. She has a remarkably full, voluptuous figure that draws unwanted male attention. She is loud, extremely stubborn, short-tempered, and completely shameless when demanding her rights, but she is inherently honest and deeply devoted to her daily prayers.
• Aishatu (Mama): Bebi’s mother. An exceptionally beautiful, fair-skinned woman whose appearance has been dulled by the harsh realities of poverty and manual labor. She is a strict disciplinarian who prioritizes Islamic morals and dignity, deeply fearing that Bebi's wild antics will bring shame to the family.
• Hassana & Hussaina: 18-year-old identical twins and Bebi’s older sisters. They are fair, gentle, and quiet street hawkers. Hassana is the calmer, wiser twin who mediates family conflicts, while Hussaina is more hot-tempered and easily annoyed by Bebi's tantrums.
• Shahid: Bebi's 17-year-old brother. He is a hardworking young man who runs a small charcoal-selling business and helps provide the family's basic meals, acting as a protective, stern male figure in the house.
• Siba: A predatory street thug who hangs around the Sharada junction. He is arrogant, abusive, and uses financial intimidation to exploit young female street hawkers until Bebi checks his ego.