Translation in English

Chapter 001

The Ruga, resembling a traditional Fulani settlement, was dead silent. Nothing could be heard except the calls of cattle, birds, and small nocturnal creatures settling into the night.

Like any typical Fulani settlement, it consisted of a scattered collection of grass-thatched huts spread across the open bush. They weren't clustered together; each hut stood a short distance from the next. There were no modern houses or permanent structures, and the compound lacked conventional fencing, save for a few individual huts partially surrounded by woven cornstalk fences.

Slowly, she emerged from the hut that served as her domain, stepping stealthily. Her sandals were tucked tightly under her armpits like a thief moving in absolute silence. "Who is there?!" a voice suddenly cut through the air, flashing a bright light directly at her.

She didn't answer, nor did she look back. She froze in her tracks like a wooden post. "I asked who is there! Or are you mute?"

She remained entirely silent. Hearing the person approaching closer and closer, she slowly turned her head just as the questioner stepped right up to her.

"Hmm, I knew it in my bones! It's you—you stubborn thick-skulled creature. Didn't God create you with a brain? Even after I told you not to go, you went anyway, didn't you?" the middle-aged woman scolded in a heavily accented Hausa that instantly gave her away as a true Fulani. "I am talking to you and you just stand there silent!"

She blinked rapidly like someone caught red-handed. "Wallahi, Nene, I didn't..."

"Shut your mouth! Spare me those useless oaths. If you weren't sneaking off somewhere else, why did you dress up and put on brand new clothes, tell me? Are you going to turn around and go to sleep right now, or do you want me to lose my temper?"

She put on a pitiful, pleading face. "But Nene..."

"Aradu (By God), if I hear another word from your mouth, I will make your life a living hell, you impudent child!"

Tears welled up in her eyes. She hastily slipped her sandals back on and began to walk away. But no sooner had she passed the older woman and rounded a slight bend than a sudden burst of speed took over. Hearing Nene shouting her name behind her, she ignored it completely as if the call wasn't meant for her, and bolted off into a full sprint without ever looking back.

She ran hard until she was certain she was a safe distance from home, then stopped to catch her breath, panting heavily. Raising her head, she spotted the flickering glow of a bonfire in the distance and could hear the loud chatter of the crowd gathered there. A smile spread across her face. "Hamba, Nene! You can be as angry as you like, but there's no way I'm missing this celebration. Let's see how much bad blood is really between me and Hansai now!"

She used the edge of her headscarf to quickly wipe her face. In the bright, illuminating glow of the full moon, her features became clear. She was just a young girl, perhaps around eleven years old, fair-complexioned with a long face, a prominent bridge of a nose, and small lips. Her eyebrows were neatly arched in a striking way, and her eyes were wide and expressive. A thick fringe of hair rested across her forehead, hinting at the abundance of thick hair beneath. Though she wasn't heavy at all—slender like a stalk of grass—she wore traditional Fulani white woven attire that suited her remarkably well.

Taking a moment to compose herself, she resumed her walk, heading straight toward the sound of the music. The drummers suddenly shifted their rhythm, and with a swift, graceful leap, she bounded right into the center of the open arena. The moment the crowd saw her, the men let out a loud, ecstatic cheer. "Yeeee! Dagori! Dagori! Dagori! She has arrived! Our warrior is here! Everyone step back, Dagori is here!"

That was all the men shouting at the top of their lungs. Instantly, her mood lifted. She broke into their traditional Fulani dance, moving with breathtaking grace and control, swaying her waist and chest rhythmically. Driven wild by the performance, the men began throwing money at her feet. She danced with even more vigor, especially when she noticed Hansai and her friends retreating to the side, whispering among themselves.

Hansai pulled three other girls aside and glared at one of them. "You! Dije, what is the meaning of this? Why is Dagori here? Did she know about this gathering too?"

Dije looked back defensively. "Well, I told her about it, but I didn't know she was actually going to come!"

"Oh please, Dije, are you completely senseless? Who in this Ruga doesn't know Dagori's competitive nature? Why on earth would you tell her about a public arena dance?"

Another girl who had been quiet from the start chimed in. "Just leave her alone, A'i. Whoever eats soup with me will share the hot peppers. I'm actually glad she came. I know for sure the anger and heartbreak she's going to suffer tonight will make her regret showing up at all."

"Heartbreak over what?!" the other girls asked in unison.

"Just open your eyes and watch the show," she replied with a malicious smile.

Dagori danced until she was thoroughly exhausted. Slowly, executing a stunning, crowd-pleasing dance step, she backed away from the center. None of the other girls dared to step forward; they simply gave her space, glaring at her with resentment. As soon as she stepped out of the ring, someone signaled the musicians, and the music stopped dead.

A man stepped forward, facing the gathered crowd, and began to speak. "Well, Alhamdullah, we have been thoroughly entertained. Now, beyond that, I know everyone has been wondering about the reason for this sudden celebration, news of which many of us are only hearing today. I am thrilled to celebrate our brother and friend who has successfully found a bride right here in our own RUGA!"

A loud cheer erupted from the crowd. Off to the side, Hansai let out a wicked, knowing laugh.

The speaker continued. "I know your hearts are overflowing with curiosity to know who the groom is. Well, it is none other than... none other than... Gidaɗo, the son of the Sarkin Noma! He has struck gold by winning the heart of the most beautiful maiden desired by all—none other than... Hansai!"

The arena erupted once again into wild cheers and applause. Several men rushed over to Gidaɗo, celebrating wildly and lifting him up into the air, tossing him joyfully.

Just as Gidaɗo was being tossed into the air, Dagori's heart sank heavily into her chest. Her mind went completely blank; she couldn't process anything. Everything stood still. She understood nothing more until she noticed the crowd beginning to disperse. Slowly, like someone who had just broken an egg inside her pocket, she began to walk away.

She hadn't gone far when she ran into Hansai and her crew, who looked as though they had been waiting specifically for her. "Well, well, well! If it isn't Dagori, the big city girl! Tell me, did someone die? I noticed your mood changed in an instant. You came here all cheerful and full of life, but you're leaving with a broken heart," Hansai taunted, suppressing a giggle.

A'i chimed in right away. "Hmm, you know how human envy works, Hansai. Who knows, maybe she's dying of jealousy because ever since it was announced that you and Gidaɗo are getting married this year, I've noticed how much her demeanor has changed."

With an arrogant toss of her head, Hansai said, "Oh, come on, A'i! If she didn't know before, let her know now: whether she likes it or not, my marriage to Gidaɗo is a done deal, and..."

Without waiting to hear the end of it, Dagori turned and walked away. Her mood was foul. Behind her, the girls burst into loud laughter. Hansai looked at A'i and asked, "By the way, where is Dije?"

"Mtsssss, she left a while ago as soon as she spotted Dagori. You know Dije—she's Dagori's friend and is terrified of her. All her usual mischief is only because people are scared of her, but look at that! Now that it's just the two of us, she tucked tail and ran."

They burst into laughter again, nudging each other. "Come on, let's go. It's late and I'm sleepy."

Chatting and laughing, they walked off, all at Dagori's expense.

Reaching home, Dagori went straight into her hut. She threw herself onto her raffia bed, which was covered with a woven mat and a cloth wrapper, and stared up at the ceiling. Physically, she was looking at the thatched roof, but mentally, she was miles away plotting her revenge. "Me? Dagori, the one they say is unmanageable by anyone—did I really fall so low that these little insects think they can scheme behind my back? The Hausa proverb is truly wise: when a blind cat sits, a mouse dances naked right before it! Wallahi, Hansai and A'i, you will live to regret crossing me. This wasn't even your fight to begin with, but you bought it. I'll deal with both of you first before turning my attention to that big-for-nothing cheat of a boy!"

With that, she let out a sharp hiss and adjusted her sleeping position.

How did you find this storytelling style? Should we continue, or should I pause here?

Chapter 002

Early the next morning, Dagori clearly heard Nene calling her to wake up and perform the morning prayer. However, fearing Nene would interrogate her about where she had gone the previous night (even though she knew Nene was well aware she had visited the dancing arena), she chose to stay completely still under her covers, playing possum. She wasn't ready with excuses to defend herself.

She waited until she heard Nene finish her own ablutions and step into her hut before she finally kicked off the blanket, rubbing her sleep-filled eyes. Picking up her small plastic water jug from the corner, she stepped outside, headed to the outdoor bathroom to clean up, and then squatted down near where Nene had performed her ablutions. After a short while, she hurried back to perform her own prayers.

Once she finished praying, she grabbed a small hijab from a basket by the cornstalk bed frame, picked up her writing slate, and slipped out. Since the courtyard was empty, she walked straight out of the compound.

She headed toward the local study spot, a small clearing near a large mango tree where a group of young boys and girls gathered, each sitting in their own little clusters. She walked right over and sat down on a woven fertilizer sack belonging to a young girl. The girl looked up with an expression ready for a fight, but the moment their eyes met, Dagori flashed her a fierce, intimidating glare. The girl instantly lowered her eyes, shrank back, and scurried away, leaving the sack entirely to Dagori.

Lessons commenced, and around 7:30 AM, classes were dismissed. As Dagori set off toward home, she heard someone calling her name. Recognizing the voice, a wicked, mischievous smile crossed her face, but she ignored it and kept walking. Realizing Dagori had no intention of stopping, the caller broke into a run.

"Hamba, Dagori! I know you can hear me, why are you acting like you're deaf?" Dije panted, cutting right in front of her to block her path.

Dagori stopped and gave her a long, hard stare. "Dije, please! Did you think I didn't see what happened yesterday? You claim to be my friend, yet you allied yourself with Hansai behind my back. In this entire RUGA, everyone knows we are not on good terms, yet you—my supposed friend—conspired with them to betray me!" She ended with a sharp hiss.

"Wallahi, Dagori, please forgive me! I had no prior knowledge of what they were planning. If you want me to tell you everything that transpired between me and those girls, I will tell you. But Aradu, please believe me, I knew nothing about it!"

"Fine, I hear you. But you'll have to do something for me to make up for it!"

"What is it? Name it, I agree to whatever it is!"

"Not here. Walk with me, and when the time is right, I'll tell you," she replied, throwing in a crisp English "No" just to sound like a sophisticated city girl—since "Yes," "Ok," and "No" were practically the only English words she knew.

They resumed walking. Since Dije's house was closer to the entrance of the Ruga, Dije slipped inside her compound, while Dagori continued on to her own home. Upon entering, she caught sight of Salame sweeping the animal pen, but she didn't spare her a glance, marching straight into her own hut.

Moments later, she stepped out of her hut dressed in her school uniform. Though the clothes weren't ironed, they were impeccably clean, because Dagori took immense pride in her hygiene. She was the kind of person who always wanted to outshine everyone else in beauty, cleanliness, and grooming. Known locally as the fashionista of the Ruga's young women, her immaculate personal style gave her an undeniable aura of confidence.

As she walked past Nene's hut, Baffa emerged from his own. She dropped gracefully to her knees to greet him. "Good morning, Baffa. Did you sleep well?"

"I slept well, Mai Babban Suna (Bearer of the Grand Name). Off to school?" he asked with a warm smile. She smiled back. "Yes, Baffa."

"That's wonderful. But please, Mai Babban Suna, try to be careful and stay out of trouble, you hear?" he cautioned gently. "You might as well talk to a brick wall, because she never listens to a word anyone says—least of all me!" Nene shouted, stepping out of her hut.

"Oh, mother of children, youth is just playing with her. She will outgrow it all soon, won't you, Mai Babban Suna?" Baffa smiled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a twenty-naira note, which he handed to her. She accepted it with profuse thanks and stood up to leave. Nene, consumed with frustration, didn't utter another word.

Walking slowly and humming a Fulani song, Dagori soon caught up with a group of children gathered along the path. The moment they spotted her, they began to chant playfully: "Amin Dagori mai layar ƙanzo! Amin dai wasa ba!" (Amin Dagori of the protective charm, playtime is over!)

Infuriated, she chased after them. They scattered in all directions, but she managed to sprint fast enough to grab one of them firmly by the collar. "You little good-for-nothing! You have the audacity to mock me and call me Amin Dagori mai layar ƙanzo? Your father's protective charm, you useless little scoundrel!" she yelled, landing a series of heavy slaps across his face as he burst into tears. "Next time, you bastard—well, you're a bastard anyway, you don't even have a father—try it again!" she shouted, giving the back of his head a final shove before letting him go. He bolted away at top speed, thoroughly beaten.

She finally arrived at her school—a modest building consisting of just three modern classrooms, though completely unplastered, without even concrete floors. She walked into the middle classroom where children were crowded together like cattle, sitting directly on the bare ground unless they had brought sacks to sit on to keep from getting dirty.

There was no teacher inside yet, and the children were playing around. The moment she walked in, everyone immediately quieted down and minded their business. Because of her arrogance, she never brought a sitting sack to school, nor would she ever sit on the bare floor; instead, she simply bullied someone else out of theirs. Spotting a young girl nearby, she snapped, "You! Come here!"

The girl jumped up nervously and hurried over. "Bring me your sack right now!"

The girl quickly complied, hurrying over to hand it to her. Dagori rewarded her with a sharp slap across the face. "Did you lose your mind? You expected me to bring my own sitting sack?"

The girl swallowed her tears, spread the sack out for Dagori, and retreated to the floor to sit on the bare ground. Just then, the teacher walked in. The class stood up to greet him, but Dagori simply adjusted her seat comfortably, refusing to stand.

The teacher merely shook his head, holding out his hand toward her expectantly. Dagori scrunched up her nose, reached into her bag, and pulled out a slate chalk and a box of matches, handing them over. She knew precisely what he wanted.

He accepted them, reached into his pocket, pulled out a cigarette, placed it between his lips, and used her matches to light it. Tossing the matchbox back onto her desk, she let out an annoyed hiss before stashing it in her bag. "Are you hissing at me?" the teacher asked, scowling.

"Not at all, I wouldn't dare change my target—I'm hissing at the person whose conscience is pricking them!" she retorted, staring him down fiercely.

He knew very well she was talking about him. Ever since he had made the mistake of showing romantic interest in her, the power dynamic had shifted; she constantly mocked him for smoking cigarettes. Yet, knowing she despised the habit, he purposefully made her hold onto his matches just to test her limits...

Chapter 003

School dismissed, and Dagori set off on her walk home. Since neither Dije nor Hansai had shown up at school today, she walked back undisturbed. Along her route, she passed by Gidaɗo's farm, which triggered a memory of a day she had run into Gidaɗo after school:

“My beloved, from afar I caught a glimpse of you walking towards me, and my heart raced with the desire to rush to you. Before I even realized it, I found myself standing right before you,” Gidaɗo had said.

She had smiled deeply, thoroughly enjoying the sweet words he used to express his love. “My Gidaɗo, that is why among all the young men in this RUGA, I feel like there is none who compares to you.” She had reached out and playfully grabbed the walking stick from his hand.

“As far as I'm concerned, all the other girls in this Ruga are like men to me; you are the only true woman among them.” She had giggled happily at that. “When you talk like that, you make me feel like some Bollywood queen!” “Don't downgrade yourself like that, Dagori! What Bollywood queen? By Aradu, not even an Arab woman compares to you. Who is a Bollywood queen compared to you?” At that moment, Dagori had felt like the earth should open up and swallow her from pure joy.

“Really, my love?” “By Aradu, yes! Dagori, look over there!” he had said, pointing to a large stack of dried cornstalks piled inside the farm. “What do you see?” “I see a pile of cornstalks.” “Well, by Aradu, with those very stalks, I am going to build you a grand hut unlike any other in this entire RUGA!” “Wallahi, you are making me shy!” she had said, covering her face.

Roused from her daydream, she muttered aloud, "That lying man! So all of Gidaɗo's sweet words were just empty deceptions meant for me?"

Her eyes locked fiercely onto the stack of cornstalks. Glancing around to ensure no one was watching, she marched straight up to the pile and let out a wicked laugh. "I said I would deal with Hansai first before turning my attention to you, but now? I'm starting with you!"

She reached into her school bag and pulled out the matchbox. "Well, Mr. Cigarette-smoking teacher, your stash is going to come in handy today!"

She extracted a match, struck it, and tossed it right onto the dry cornstalks. Being dry, the stalks instantly caught fire. Quickly tucking the matchbox back into her bag, she retreated behind a nearby tree, watching the fire spread rapidly before turning on her heel and marching down the path toward home, her blood boiling. "Now let's see which mother's son is going to build you that stupid hut! That wedding of yours is definitely going to have to be postponed until next year!" she muttered, bursting into laughter.

Just as she was about to enter the Ruga, she bumped straight into Gidaɗo. "Well, well! Look at the Groom himself! The husband-to-be! Hamba, even when I said it, I could sense his presence from afar—it turns out the Groom was right here! Gidaɗo, Hansai's groom-to-be! And I hear congratulations are in order? May Almighty Allah grant us long life to witness it!"

Gidaɗo was struck completely dumb with embarrassment, unable to utter a single word. He stared at her in utter bewilderment, amazed by how nonchalant and unfazed she appeared. "Hamba, Groom, why are you so silent? Please, say something! I'm here to congratulate you. Oh well, I suppose it's wedding shyness! But if you speak up too much, people will call it shamelessness. Anyway, let me head home," she concluded with a bright smile, brushing past him.

He tracked her with his eyes until she vanished from sight, standing frozen like a fool. He had been terrified when he first saw her, fully expecting her to hurl insults at him after what he had done behind her back. Instead, she had greeted him with a smile. It completely disarmed him, leaving him standing there feeling utterly deflated.

"Wallahi, if everyone else is willing to tolerate Dagori's lawlessness in this town, I am not! Her behavior has gone far beyond beating up children—now she's out here committing outright arson!"

The woman who had lost her sitting sack to Dagori earlier that day was fuming as Dagori snuck past behind Baffa's hut, as if she knew trouble was brewing. Nene, whose patience with Dagori's endless antics was completely exhausted, responded:

"Innar Kabiru, please calm down. Aradu, I know whatever Dagori did, she must have provoked it because she simply refuses to listen. But please, have mercy, we will talk to her..."

"Oh, please, Nene! Why on earth are you making excuses for her when you don't even know what she did? You're just encouraging her to become even more disrespectful in this town!" Dagori hissed from her hiding place behind the hut, making a face. In her mind, her reputation was being unjustly attacked.

"Useless talk! What kind of action are you going to take when everyone knows she doesn't listen to you anyway?" Innar Kabiru yelled, snatching her child and storming out of the compound.

As soon as she was far enough away, Dagori stepped out from hiding and headed toward her hut. Nene immediately spotted her. "You good-for-nothing child! Where do you think you're sneaking off to like a thief?"

"I'm going inside to change my clothes."

"What is wrong with you? Why can't you stop bringing trouble to our doorstep? What on earth is going on between you and Kabiru, the son of Ladidi?"

"Nene, they are the ones who always provoke me—"

"Save it, Dagori! Keep pushing my patience. Do you think because Baffa coddles you, I will just stand by and let you do whatever you please? You'll find yourself missing from this town before I step on you!"

Knowing Nene was entirely capable of carrying out her threats, Dagori quickly ducked away.

Later, she sat inside the woven cornstalk gazebo in the compound with a bowl of tuwo (swallow) before her. "Salame, please add a little more pepper to this stew, Aradu, I love it spicy!"

"Ah, Dagori, the problem with you is that you don't know how to eat normal food without turning it into a fire hazard!" Salame retorted.

Dagori scowled. "Look here, Salame..."

Summary

The story follows Dagori, an independent, fierce, and fiercely proud 11-year-old Fulani girl living in a traditional Ruga (settlement). Unapologetic and feared by her peers, Dagori is a local fashionista who dominates school and social spaces through sheer intimidation and unmatched confidence. Her life hits a turbulent emotional turning point when her secret admirer, Gidaɗo, abruptly betrays her by getting engaged to her rival, Hansai.

Devastated and humiliated in front of the entire community during a celebratory dance arena, Dagori hides her heartbreak behind a mask of chilling nonchalance. Refusing to let the betrayal slide, she plots a calculated revenge—starting by setting fire to the very cornstalks Gidaɗo intended to use to build Hansai's bridal hut. Amidst ongoing clashes with her strict guardian Nene, her schoolteacher, and local mothers whose children she terrorizes, Dagori proves that she is a force of nature who demands respect on her own terms.

Description

• Setting: A traditional, remote Fulani pastoralist settlement (Ruga) characterized by scattered grass-thatched huts, open bush landscapes, traditional dance arenas, and a local community school.
• Protagonist: Dagori – an eleven-year-old, fair-complexioned, slender Fulani girl known for her striking beauty, exceptional personal hygiene, sharp tongue, and aggressive dominance over her peers.
• Key Characters:
  • Nene: Dagori's stern, no-nonsense guardian who constantly tries to check her rebellious behavior.
  • Baffa: Dagori's more lenient father/guardian who occasionally slips her pocket money.
  • Gidaɗo: The fickle young man who courted Dagori with grand promises before publicly marrying Hansai.
  • Hansai & A'i: Dagori's primary rivals who take malicious pleasure in her humiliation.
  • Dije: Dagori's timid friend caught between loyalty and fear of Dagori.
  • Salame: A domestic hand within Dagori's household.

Analytics

Character Dynamics & Conflict Map

                [Gidaɗo] (Deceitful Lover)
               /        \
              /          \
     (Courtship)          (Betrothal/Marriage)
            /              \
    [Dagori] -------------- [Hansai & A'i] (Primary Rivals)
       |                           |
   (Conflicts)                (Conspiracies)
       |                           |
[Nene & Community]           [Dije] (Reluctant Ally)

Thematic Elements

1. Pride and Retaliation ("The Blind Cat & The Naked Mouse"): Dagori operates heavily on a code of honor and payback. When wronged, she does not cry openly; she plots systematic retribution.
2. Generational Tension: The narrative highlights the friction between traditional pastoral elders (like Nene and Baffa) who value community order and defiant youth pushing personal boundaries.
3. Social Hierarchy in the Ruga: Despite being a young girl, Dagori establishes a micro-hierarchy of power through intimidation, fashion (kaftafi), and physical dominance over other children.