DATTIJON ARZIKI BOOK COMPELET 

REAL LADINGO

In the country of Chad, within the city of Ndjamena. It is the cold season, but today's weather is harsher than usual. Today started with a fierce, chilling cold that pierces straight through the human body, accompanied by a very thick haze. Many of the city's residents, who are out for their daily businesses, are dressed in heavy winter clothing because today's cold stands out from all others.

The neighborhood is Ambassador. It is a massive mansion where, right from the gate, you can tell it is a place of absolute luxury. One glance tells you that its owner is no ordinary person. The mansion is exceptionally grand, equipped with every earthly comfort—nothing is missing except nothing itself. Everywhere you look inside is adorned with beautiful, fragrant flowers. There is a huge garden featuring a variety of fruit trees: date palms, strawberries, grapes, mangoes, sweet lemons, coconuts, guavas, and more. On one side is an area for raising birds, featuring five large cages containing peacocks, turkeys, ostriches, European pigeons, and a cage of talkative parrots. Oh! Pausing to describe the beauty of the mansion and all the amazing things inside would take us too far, but the architectural design and everything about it are simply Mashallah.

There are two security guards wearing uniforms, extremely built; one look tells you they are Chadian. There is a huge outdoor relaxation gazebo with beautiful chairs, and next to it, a massive car garage with all sorts of luxurious cars parked neatly—exactly 10 of them inside the garage. Two huge, massive cars—one gleaming pure white and the other pitch black—are being polished outside, while security guards pace around the vehicles holding guns in their hands, constantly sniffing and looking around.

A young maiden, fresh-faced, around 18 years old. She stands near the door of her bedroom, though trying to describe the beauty of her room and the fortune spent on her sleeping quarters and comforts would be a waste of time, even though she doesn't study in this country. She is dressed in a soft blue abaya, adorned with extremely expensive, pure white stones. She has draped her head with the abaya's matching scarf, which fits her body perfectly, Mashallah. The length of her long hair cascades down to the middle of her back. She doesn't even feel the cold because she is well-equipped with room heaters in her bedroom, and besides, she loves the cold very much. However, the cold drink she just had left her unable to sleep because of hunger. Slowly, she begins to descend the stairs with composure and grace to reach the first floor (since she lives on the second floor). She walks with a swaying motion that moves her entire body like a graceful fish. She slightly moves her tiny pink lips, occasionally licking them, and slowly blinks her small, sleepy, pure white eyes while holding an iPhone 13 Pro Max.

One glance tells you she is of mixed heritage (ruwa biyu), but at first sight, you would know she has Arab blood because of her abundant hair, long straight nose, and small, soft, pinkish mouth. She has long, thick eyelashes and beautifully shaped eyebrows. Her eyes are small, like she is feeling sleepy, and pure white. Her skin is smooth like velvet and soft. She is very beautiful, though not in an overwhelmingly intimidating way, yet she is a complete woman despite her young age—God created her, Mashallah. She is a lover of fragrance; her skin tone is mixed—she is neither completely fair nor purely chocolate-skinned. She is tall, but not overly so, as her slight curves balance out her height. She has a well-proportioned figure that captures the attention of any healthy man. Her chest is full with firm, beautiful breasts. She has captivating hips—Mashallah, her rear is like that of an older woman, nicely rounded without being excessive. She has no dimples, but her teeth are small, pure white, and arranged like a case. She has a calm disposition, doesn't talk much, and never meddles in affairs that don't concern her. She is very reserved (miskila), yet kind, empathetic, and generous. Her nature of disliking talking or noise means you could spend the whole day with her without hearing a word. Her main conversation is with her Abie (father), because even with Raiyana, Abie's wife, they don't talk much—despite Raiyana's fondness for her, she finds it hard to completely relax around her. Not even Jaddatu Rahamu engages in much small talk with her, except when Jaddatu does something funny, as Jaddatu Rahamu is extremely hot-tempered.

Just as she was about to finish descending to the first floor near her Abie's bedroom door, she heard Ammi Raiyana's voice ranting furiously. She hurried over and stopped by the bedroom door, intending to open it and go in, assuming Latifa had been assigned to clean Abie's wing and was acting foolishly. Her heart skipped a beat upon catching Raiyana's words, as she heard her hurling harsh insults straight into her ears—insults directed at her dearest father. Her body began to tremble, and her heart beat wildly, three times over. She clutched her chest, quickly closing her small, beautiful eyes, which were turning bloodshot from the intense anger that had invaded her spirit. She drew a heavy, labored breath, then began exhaling rapidly and continuously like someone running a race, while her entire body shivered. She felt a crawling sensation all over her body like little worms. At that moment, a fierce cold attacked her body, causing her to curl up completely as the soles of her feet and palms felt an intense, bitter cold that seeped through every pore of her skin, making her teeth chatter. She let out a labored sigh while biting her small, soft pink lips. Closing her sleepy eyes, she used both palms to cover her ears, gasping for breath as it moved back and forth. Opening her eyes, she dragged her feet with difficulty back upstairs, filled with a fierce hatred for Ammi Raiyana.

An elderly man, a fair Arab, tall and moderately built, around 50 years old in this world, though due to his good living, you would take him to be no more than 45. He is extremely handsome, cheerful, with a long face framed by a well-groomed beard, sideburns, and a long, handsome mustache. He has abundant body hair, bright wide eyes with golden irises. His eyes possess a certain gift; the moment your eyes meet his, you feel a sense of awe. Even Raiyana, who had just finished berating him, didn't dare look him straight in the eye while being insolent. He has beautiful eyelashes and eyebrows, and reddish lips—Rahma inherited her lips from him, though hers are pink while his are reddish, soft, and glowing with good health. He has a long nose, a long chin, straight white teeth with a lower canine gap, and a deep dimple that shows even when he speaks, and more so when he smiles. Though he doesn't laugh much, he smiles effortlessly.

He stands in front of a massive dressing mirror, dressed in expensive, luxurious traditional attire. His abundant hair is neatly styled and shining, and he sprays a potent, expensive perfume with a delightfully cool scent. He is on the phone, calm and dignified, speaking in Arabic and smiling as if he hadn't just been yelled at. His dimple shows on the side of his face. From the bathroom steps out a fair, slender woman—neither short nor tall. One look tells you she is Shuwa Arab, given her hair that reaches down to her back. She appears to be around 32 years old. Her large eyes, filled with the fire of desire, are fixed on him, and she feels like hugging him, but his intimidating presence holds her back. "Malam, did you hear what I said?" she finished, placing her hands on her hips. He turned around, his face grim and devoid of warmth, and spoke in a melodious voice: "Okay, I am going to visit the hospitals. When I return, we will talk. Don't worry, Your Excellency. Thank you very much, bye." He hung up the call, tossed his phone (similar to Rahma's) into his front pocket, pointed at her with his finger, and said: "Is it me you are speaking to with such bitter words? You are only respected because of honorable people, Raiyana. I never boast, but why did I marry you? You are no better than other women. Anyone who fails my conditions and tests will never attain me, ever. Because you all woke me up from sleep and made me taste torment. Only the honor of my mother makes me stay with you. So you too are a snake that strikes to kill? (By Sajida Niger)." "Good, I will not divorce you because I have dignity and respect in the eyes of the public. Continue to live and eat your fill, but guard your tongue. Get out of here and go to your room!" he finished, pointing at her with his finger.

Raiyana averted her gaze from him because of the lingering love for him raging in her heart, and said: "I swear, I was also close to telling the world who you really are. And I am going to explain this to Rahma, your favorite daughter..." He yanked her toward himself with lightning speed—typical of a strong man; though some time had passed, his strength remained. She screamed in pain as her bones cracked. He raised his hand to slap her, but stopped and pushed her aside instead, because hitting women is not his nature. Amidst all his wives, he had never struck any of them. He barked a warning: "Leave my room! If you ever enter here without my permission, blame yourself, not me." He finished by clutching his head, which felt like it was about to split open. Filled with intense fear of him, she dragged her feet and walked out, slamming the door hard behind her. She was terrified of what punishment he might mete out, yet she loved him deeply; she only made threats to get him to do what she wanted, but he was uncompromising.

"Astaghfirullah wa'atubu ilayk! Ummu Aymana, you have left us with the chaos of this world—me and my Baby Ummi. They told me to marry an older woman, and here I am, she has neither sense nor tact, just obsession and greed. Where do I even begin to look for a woman who will truly understand me and live with me sincerely, the way I want us to live under one roof in peace? Oh Lord!" He finished speaking in Arabic while wrapping up his preparations, sprayed his perfume, and picked up his other two phones—he used three phones in total, each for a different purpose. He hurried out, turning the handle of the dark glass security door, and headed toward Rahma, knowing she might not have woken up yet since she had come for a two-month school holiday before returning to Spain. Ever since she arrived seven days ago, she spent every day sleeping away her holiday—she would have breakfast, go back to sleep, wake up at Zuhr prayer to pray, have lunch, and then stroll around the house or go out for recreation.

It was a magnificent parlor, built with crazy amounts of money and furnished with exquisite royal-style couches that lined the room. An elderly white woman of about 67 years—one glance tells you she is an Arab—sat regally, dressed in a thick, long Saudi-style winter gown that reached the floor, with her head wrapped in a medium-sized thick shawl. The parlor was filled with the fragrance of incense and a cozy warmth generated by the room heater. Her eyes were fixed on a massive plasma TV, watching the Aljazeera channel. She held a cup of tea in one hand while fingering her rosary with the other. Glancing up at the large clock on the wall, she saw it was 11:00 AM. She set her cup down and spoke in Arabic: "Oh Lord! What is this boy doing that it is already 11:00 AM and he hasn't gone out to do what brings him closer to his Creator? Tomorrow he is traveling to Gabon. That spoiled daughter of his will wake up and waste his time—I saw her only drink tea this morning, and Rahma cannot sleep on an empty stomach." She finished speaking, looking toward the stairway and calling out: "Latifah!"

Trembling, Latifa hurried over, prostrated before the old woman, and spoke in Arabic: "Jaddatu Rahamu, here I am. I pray I haven't done anything wrong?" The old woman stared at her, reaching for her cane. Seeing this, Latifa quickly stepped back. "I swear, Latifa, your actions are full of hypocrisy. If not, why would you immediately assume you've made a mistake the moment you're called? Look at this hypocritical girl, rolling your red eyes at me like garden eggs. Go get my phone from the room—and don't you dare go poking around where you shouldn't! If it weren't for Rahma insisting, you would have been kicked out of this house long ago." Latifa lowered her head as if to utter something polite, but switched to Hausa, knowing the old woman didn't understand it: "Stuck permanently in this house just to make money; may God grant me success, whether you like it or not, you hypocritical old woman! I swear you are only surviving because of your good son. If I had the money to get our own place, I would have beaten you up long ago and fled, only to ask for forgiveness later." Latifa finished speaking, stood up, and headed toward Jaddatu Rahamu's room. Jaddatu Rahamu called out: "Hey! Come back here, what did you just say in Hausa?" Latifa replied: "Jaddatu, I was praying for you." "No, you're lying. Go away, I've canceled the task. I heard you—what did you say? You were going to steal? Go call Ummin Adnan for me." Latifa bowed and said, "Alright, Jaddatu," and hurried off to fetch Ummi Adnan.

Meanwhile, Rahma entered her bedroom, climbed onto a massive, luxurious royal bed, and pulled a very thick, soft pink blanket over herself. It emitted an intoxicating fragrance. She covered her entire body, letting her long hair spread across her face, and hugged a giant teddy bear almost as big as herself. Slowly, she began to cry silently. Amidst her sniffles, she spoke in Arabic in her soft, flute-like voice: "Ammi Raiyana, is this how you show love to my Abie in the public eye? Why did you utter those words to him, which I know hurt him so deeply..." Hearing the sound of the door opening, she quickly.........!

Summary

The story opens in Ndjamena, Chad, during an exceptionally freezing and hazy morning. It introduces the opulent mansion in the Ambassador neighborhood owned by Abdul Majeed, a wealthy, handsome, and dignified man in his early fifties. His teenage daughter, Rahma (home on a two-month break from school in Spain), is described in detail—her striking mixed heritage, beauty, reserve, and deep adoration for her father.

Tension arises when Rahma overhears Abdul Majeed's wife, Raiyana, verbally abusing and insulting him in his room. Distressed and furious, Rahma retreats to her room in tears and anger against Raiyana. Meanwhile, Abdul Majeed dismisses Raiyana firmly, refusing to divorce her due to his pride and public dignity, while warning her never to cross him again. He then visits Rahma in her room, finding her feigning sleep. He gently cares for her, styles her hair, and offers a heartfelt prayer for her future before leaving. Downstairs, the sharp-tongued elderly matriarch, Jaddatu Rahamu, complains about Abdul Majeed's schedule and scolds the maid, Latifa. The chapter closes with the domestic tensions and power dynamics within the wealthy household coming to a head.

Description

The narrative paints a vivid picture of extreme wealth contrasted with domestic discord. It details the lavish estate in Ndjamena featuring exotic gardens, guarded security, luxury vehicles, and high-end modern comforts. Character descriptions are rich and sensory: Abdul Majeed is portrayed as an imposing, charismatic, and disciplined patriarch; Rahma as a pampered, stunning, and deeply loyal daughter; Raiyana as a bitter, frustrated wife consumed by unrequited passion and greed; and Jaddatu Rahamu as a formidable, sharp-witted matriarch. The frigid weather mirrors the cold emotional climate and brewing conflicts inside the household.

Discussion Questions

1. How does the severe winter weather at the beginning of the story serve as a narrative device or metaphor for the relationships within Abdul Majeed's household?
2. What role do cultural and linguistic shifts (Arabic vs. Hausa) play in character interactions, particularly with figures like Latifa and Jaddatu Rahamu?
3. Analyze the dynamic between Abdul Majeed and Raiyana. Why does he refuse to grant her a divorce despite her hostility and insults?
4. How does Rahma’s perspective shape the reader's view of her father versus her stepmother, Raiyana?

Comments

• Thematic Depth: The excerpt effectively uses sensory details—from the biting chill outside to the warm, heavily scented interiors—to ground the reader in the story's atmospheric setting.
• Character Complexity: Abdul Majeed is not portrayed as a one-dimensional hero; his refusal to divorce Raiyana highlights a complex blend of pride, societal standing, and a rigid code of conduct.
• Cultural Nuance: The blending of Chadian settings, Arabic expressions, and Hausa dialogue adds authenticity and rich texture to the storytelling style characteristic of contemporary Nigerian/Northern fiction.

Detailed Character & Setting Description

The narrative unfolds against the stark contrast of a biting, unusual winter in Ndjamena, Chad, and the opulent, fortress-like sanctuary of the Ambassador neighborhood. The setting functions almost as a character itself; the biting cold, thick haze, and climate-controlled luxuries inside the mansion establish an atmosphere of isolation, privilege, and emotional shielding.

• Abdul Majeed: The quintessential patriarch—wealthy, charismatic, and commanding. Standing around fifty yet possessing the vitality of a younger man, he exudes an aura of natural authority that silences opposition. His golden-flecked eyes and composed demeanor mask a rigid, uncompromising code of honor. He values control, dignity, and loyalty above all, treating emotional outbursts from his wives with detached severity.
• Rahma: The emotional core of the narrative. At eighteen, she bridges youth and mature elegance. Characterized by her mixed heritage (Shuwa Arab features, flowing hair, and delicate grace), she is deeply introverted, observant, and fiercely protective of her father. Her life is insulated by extreme luxury and coddling, yet she is acutely sensitive to the emotional undercurrents of the household.
• Raiyana: A figure consumed by frustration and unrequited obsession. Trapped in a marriage to a man who views her with emotional distance, her hostility stems from powerlessness. She weaponizes sharp words out of desperation, threatening to expose secrets, only to be effortlessly subdued by Abdul Majeed's physical and psychological dominance.
• Jaddatu Rahamu & Latifa: The generational and class friction within the household is personified by the formidable, traditional matriarch Jaddatu and the sharp-tongued, disgruntled maid Latifa. Latifa’s internal monologues and covert switches between Hausa and Arabic highlight the underlying resentment of domestic workers navigating the whims of the ultra-wealthy.

Narrative Analytics

• Conflict Architecture: The core conflict operates on two levels: public prestige versus private turmoil. While Abdul Majeed maintains an empire of luxury, order, and social standing, his domestic sphere is plagued by psychological warfare, unrequited desire, and generational tension.
• Thematic Motifs:
  • Thermal Imagery: The opposition between the freezing, hostile external climate and the artificially heated, scented interiors mirrors the emotional warmth Rahma shares with her father versus the cold, venomous hostility brought by Raiyana.
  • Silence and Reservedness: Both Abdul Majeed and Rahma share a trait of physical reserve and silence (miskili nature), contrasting sharply with Raiyana’s loud outbursts and Latifa’s mutinous complaints.
• Character Motives & Power Dynamics: Abdul Majeed's refusal to divorce Raiyana is rooted not in affection, but in ego, public preservation, and a desire to punish her by withholding the very freedom she seeks. Conversely, Raiyana's rebellion is fueled by a desperate need for validation from a man emotionally unavailable to anyone except his favored daughter.

Story Overview