Section 1: The Household Conflict

"Even if one were to heat water with firewood, they would say the whole house is being burned down. What kind of calamity has this boy brought upon me in this house?"
I pouted my lips, hearing the daily abuse that Asabe subjected my mother and us to. It reached a point where she insisted my father must either divorce my mother or marry another woman who would come and give birth to sons in our house.
With great difficulty, Abba (Father) and some neighbors would manage to calm Asabe down whenever she started her loud rants back then. My mother (Inna) was kneeling by the hearth, trying to rekindle the charcoal fire that had died down earlier, fanning it vigorously so it would catch.
I went into the room and took off my school uniform, knowing we didn't have any soap to wash clothes today for tomorrow. So, I took them off, spread them on the small corrugated iron fence in front of our room, and came out. I headed toward our kitchen area, saying, "Inna, let me fan the fire so you can go and rest; I know you haven't rested since morning."
"Leave it," Inna said, trying to hide her face from me so I wouldn't see the tears streaming from her eyes at that moment. I knew Inna wasn't crying for any reason other than the taunts about having only daughters that Asabe kept throwing at her. While Inna was used to Asabe's constant quarreling, she could never stomach the taunts about her lack of sons, and that was where she showed her vulnerability.
With difficulty, Inna agreed to give me the hand fan, saying, "Go and rest, Yar Mairo." Inna never called me by my actual name because I was her firstborn.
As I was squatting by the hearth, Abba entered the house with his work tools. His eyes fell on me, and he said, "Yar Mairo, you are already cooking right after returning home?"
I looked up from where I was and said, "Welcome back, Abba," as I approached him to collect the plastic bag in his hand. After taking it, I turned to go and put it in their room, but Asabe came out, saying, "Well, well! What are you taking into the room, you little freeloader who inherited deceit from her mother?"
"Oh, come on, Umma, there is nothing inside except a little flour for tuwo and some okra, hoping we can prepare something tonight to eat. When I went out earlier, I couldn't make a single penny to even get breakfast in this house. I've been worried and thinking since morning; business has been completely dead. All the customers keep saying they will pay their debts when they get money. People have really ruined things nowadays with their love for buying on credit—even vehicle repairs are being done on credit. May God deliver us from the tribulations of this world."
Only then did Abba look down, saying, "Good afternoon, Umma. Hope you've had a peaceful day. How is the house?"
"We've had a peaceful day, but not quite, since I haven't even been able to get water to rinse my body up until now. Just because I said I couldn't bathe early in the cold morning, water is denied to me. I watched your wife light a fire in this house and keep it going until she saw that the firewood was completely burnt. Yet, this girl couldn't put warm water out for me to bathe, out of pure malice and a lack of respect for my importance in this house."
From where Abba stood listening to Asabe finish her rant, he said, "Please be patient, Umma. You know the situation I am in now. My work has no market; everywhere was dry today. For three days now, it is only Saudatu (Inna) who has been managing with the little in her pockets, and that is what we've been surviving on."
Asabe said with clear astonishment on her face, "Is that what you've become without my knowledge, my son? Aren't you ashamed to say that a woman is the one feeding us all these days in this house while you have failed? Look at the usefulness of giving birth to a male child that I always tell you about. If this girl were a boy, he would have started helping you elsewhere by now."
Inna came out of her room and headed toward the cooking area. She began dividing the local corn dish (Dambun Tsaki) she had prepared, while our courtyard fell silent as everyone fixed their eyes on her.
She started by serving Asabe. She stood up, approached her, and asked, "Umma, should it be taken to your room or served to you here?"
"Set it down here let me see," Asabe said angrily.
Inna knelt out of respect and placed the bowl in front of her where she sat on a low stool. Asabe opened the plastic bowl, turned the food inside disdainfully with her fingers, sneered, and then looked up, saying:
"Saudatu, is this food meant for a toddler?" She turned to Abba, saying, "Look at it with your own eyes, see the tiny portion served to me. Just because you said she is the one feeding us now, disrespect must naturally set in, and I am given whatever they feel like, simply because of the contempt you brought upon us due to your current failure in this house."
"Umma, it's not like that, please understand. The broken corn wasn't much; this is all that was left to manage for these children. I knew that Malam (Abba) and I wouldn't even get any in the end."
Inna added, "Even so, add more for me, because this definitely won't be enough, alright?"
I looked at Asabe when she said that, wondering at her lack of pity despite hearing what Inna had said. She snapped her left hand at me, saying, "Stop staring at me, you little brat who looks like a wild cat."
— ZAINAB IDRIS MAKAWA

Section 2: Family Ties and Class Differences (Abu Cikin Duhu)

A THING IN THE DARK
Endure and avoid violating the rights of others. What you look down upon might become something monumental against you. For God's sake, sister, let us avoid carrying the burden of others' rights; make an effort to pay and read, please.

Hajia was sitting in her living room, phone in hand, ordering clothes to be delivered. Nowadays, you don't need to go outside; if you want to make life easy for yourself, a phone is enough to handle everything for everyone.
A greeting from the door brought her back to reality. She raised her head, looking at the entrance of their living room. With a smile on her face, she set her phone aside on the sofa and said, "Look who is here! Welcome!" she greeted cheerfully, as was her custom whenever welcoming any relative, especially from her side or her husband's.
This time, it was two of her husband's female relatives who had entered the house. She paused what she was doing to welcome her guests.
"Today we are lucky to find you outside, because the last two times we came, we were told you were inside and we couldn't see you."
At that moment, she took off her glasses, saying, "No one ever told me about your visits to this house, not even once."
The other woman said, "Well, today we are lucky to find you out here." Hajia Iyami laughed out loud again, saying, "It has been a long time since we last met."
Safiya, the one she called Safiya, said, "By Allah, that's how things are. That is life. When I look back, I feel as though past events are becoming fresh again."
Hajia Iyami laughed heartily and said, "You are remembering our youth with this talk of yours."
Safiya closed her eyes, relaxing against the comfortable sofa as the cool air from the AC slowly washed over her body, saying, "Let it be, brother's wife. Anyone who reminisces about the past isn't enjoying the present."
Hearing this, Hajia understood what she meant and quickly changed the subject, saying, "Let food be brought for us to eat. I also just returned home. Today I went out for visits, even to Ado and Salihu's houses, because since I arrived in town, I hadn't checked on anyone. It doesn't feel right when people care about you and you don't return the favor."
Saying this, she turned her attention back to her phone nearby. She picked it up and called the housemaid, instructing her to bring food because she had guests in the living room.
"My, brother's wife! What 'guests' are you talking about? This habit of yours is still there. They say if you know someone, no matter how many years pass, you shouldn't doubt their character."
Hajia smiled and said, "What is this world, Sa'ade? How long does this world last for its servant?"
"If we hadn't come to see it with our own eyes, we would never have believed you are still the way you are now."
"Look, Sa'ade, do I have anyone closer to me than you in life? Any sensible woman who knows what is right treats her guests well, no matter who they are. If you let the pursuit of worldly wealth blind you, you will forget your tomorrow or the destiny of your children. Today we are here, tomorrow we are gone. Sometimes, even while you are alive, you see things happening without you. That is how things go, so it's better to fix oneself before the world leaves you behind."
The maid she called entered the room carrying a large tray with big food flasks on it. She headed toward the dining table to set it up as usual. But Hajia Iyami said, "Bring it here to us. Today we will sit on the floor and eat." They burst into laughter, saying, "This will really bring back memories."
"Back when Brother was working in Lagos, we were at home together with you. Food would be served in a large tray, and we would gather to eat while having pleasant conversations. Sadiya's arrival put an end to all of that." She continued, "She claimed we were gathering to gossip about her. I won't forget when that relative of our Hajia came from the village and said, 'You too should come out so we can gossip with you.' Sadiya opened her mouth and said, 'I won't mingle with them to be disrespected. She and those poor people's children don't know their worth.'"
Hajia Iyami smiled slightly at the memory of the story Safiya was telling. Sa'ade said, "Where is her wealth today, and that of her family's house that she used to boast about? That is life. At that time, she thought she was above everyone and everything, not knowing what tomorrow would bring her."
Hajia said, "Bismillah, let's eat." They all turned at the same time to look at the food the maid had beautifully laid out for them—you would think a formal dinner party had been organized. Its aroma was delightful to anyone, even before tasting it.
Just as Hajia was sitting on the floor, she said, "I heard you are teaching now, Safiya. And you, Sa'ade, are a nurse at the hospital?"
"So you still have updates about us?" She said, picking up a spoon. "Of course, I could never forget you in my life."
As she opened the food flasks, she handed them plates, spoons, and forks, along with cups and drinks to ensure they were comfortable. Everyone began eating and chatting while the cool air from the AC relaxed them.
It wasn't until Aunt Safiya swallowed the piece of chicken she was chewing that she said, "Honestly, we are grateful to you for giving us your time and showing no disdain or discrimination against us, unlike how we are still treated in our family house. We have been turned into outsiders within the family, despite all of Baba’s efforts to unite his lineage before he left this world. I can say that only you and your husband show us no discrimination, unlike the others who constantly treat us as outsiders whenever a family issue arises. Just because only our mother gave birth to us among them. While Brother was alive, he did his best for us, but ever since his passing, things have completely fallen apart for us. We only hear rumors of things happening; we aren't deemed important enough to be informed."
Slowly, she closed her eyes, feeling the pain of how they were constantly excluded by their relatives.
Hajia said, "Consider your brother still alive, Safiya. Though he left me and his lineage, whatever is troubling you, the door is open for you to bring your needs here, as long as it isn't beyond my means."
Just then, Hajia’s daughters returned from school. There were only three of them because Farida, Hajia's daughter, didn't study in Kaduna; ever since they returned, she secured a slot in Abuja and lives there for her studies, only returning home during holidays. That is why outside of holidays, you only see the three of them in the house.
They held their heads high and greeted the guests dismissively, as if they didn't recognize who they were, simply out of arrogance regarding their family wealth.
Safiya said, "Wait, isn't that Rufaida and Salma?" Salma turned around and said, "Yes, it's me," and immediately tried to head into the room.
"Rufaida, Salma, come here!" Hajia called out sharply. They returned quickly, saying, "Yes, Mommy." She pointed at Safiya and Sa'ade, saying, "Do you perhaps not know who these people are?"
"We know them, Mama. It's Gwaggo Safiya and Gwaggo Sa'a," Salma said dismissively.
Before Hajia could speak, she added, "Even though you know them, it seems you don't know how they are related to your father, right?"
They fell silent, lowering their heads because they understood what Hajia meant by her harsh tone.
"Let me never see you give an elder that kind of greeting again, even if it isn't them. For God's sake, Salma, when will you fix your character?" she said angrily.
"We're sorry, Mommy. It was just tiredness that kept us from stopping."
"Please leave my sight, you disrespectful children," she said in anger.
After they went into their rooms, Aunt Safiya sighed deeply, saying, "You see it now, don't you? This is not a good legacy—to show a child how you treat your relative, until it eventually affects your own children in the future."
Sa'ade stood up, saying, "It's just that Aunt cares about these people. As for me, I have long discarded anyone who shows they don't want any relationship or bond with me."
Her words didn't please Hajia, as she recognized the deep resentment caused by the behavior of their relatives, given that the two women were half-sisters to the other siblings.
They said their goodbyes to Hajia, thanking her and expressing their happiness for the warm reception she gave them, unlike the cold treatment from other relatives.
Hajia herself hadn't met their mother alive, but from what she gathered, life had been unpleasant in the house when their parents were alive. She had witnessed a bit of it during the time she spent with them in the house before God blessed her husband and they moved to Lagos, and eventually left the country entirely. At that time, her own mother-in-law often warned her to be careful with those children, because they weren't her own blood but merely children of her husband from a younger woman he had married later.
From what she heard, her mother-in-law was the first wife, and they had spent nearly fifty years together before he married Safiya’s mother. According to Hajia, her mother-in-law refused to let her children be mixed with half-siblings, which was why she stopped her husband from marrying again later.
Their father-in-law used to do business in the village until he moved to the city and began selling women's items like earrings, chains, and bags. Later, when his business expanded, he started selling gold jewelry, which brought him immense wealth. He built a massive house for his family, where they lived. It wasn't that the mother-in-law used sorcery or charms, but she was one of those women full of pride, arrogance, and superiority—traits she saw her children and grandchildren emulating now.
However, a financial crash later hit her father-in-law after the Shehu Shagari political era. Many Northern men faced this economic setback due to the military government's changes at the time. It caused the downfall of many people, and her father-in-law was caught up in that misfortune.

Section 3: Accusations and a Forced Marriage

ANCAU, KADUNA STATE
Just as Asabe had vowed that our father must marry another wife, it came to pass. Asabe went out to look for a bride for him—the daughter of a woman who had been a divorcee for a long time in our village.
Before our mother even knew about this, it became public knowledge because of Asabe's loose tongue, spreading endless uneducated, ignorant rumors driven by hatred for Inna and us, her children. Because God made our mother a patient woman who chose to overlook things even when she knew you were hurting her, she never showed that she noticed Asabe’s antics in the house. She never expressed concern over what Asabe constantly said.
Even we were not safe from Asabe, as she openly showed her hatred for us as if we weren't her own flesh and blood. It was nothing but insults and physical shoves; over the slightest thing, she would unleash her fury upon us. Whatever we did was never right.
Originally, Asabe was our father's mother. She had given birth to many children, but they never survived; shortly after being weaned, they would catch a fever and die. It happened that our father was the first to survive, followed by a sister we call 'Gwaggon Birni' (the city aunt) because she now lives in the city with her husband, who was taken in by a wealthy boss after their marriage.
Consequently, our father was the only child physically present with her, along with the grandchildren from his lineage. Yet, her hatred for us being born females made her despise us deep in her heart.
Having grown old enough to understand things, I knew the reality of our household regarding the toxic relationship between Asabe and our mother. My other siblings were never deeply bothered by the taunts against Inna; instead, they simply distanced themselves from her affairs. Despite the constant quarreling and insults directed at us in the house, Abba had separated Asabe's quarters slightly—meaning he divided the space between us and her. However, this didn't stop Asabe from coming out to spy on Inna and us.
Around one o'clock in the afternoon on a Saturday, since we were at home and didn't attend Western school (we had returned from Islamic school since eleven), I was in our children's room. I had just entered after finishing washing our piled-up clothes, took a bath, and was applying lotion.
I heard our mother’s voice calling out loudly, "Yar Mairo!"
"Yes, Inna!" I answered from the room, quickly putting on my hijab and coming out.
"Hurry and take this food to Umma (Asabe) before it gets cold," Inna said.
"Alright, Inna," I replied, bending down to pick up the plastic bowl containing Asabe's food. We called her Asabe because the whole town called her that, except for Abba and Inna. In fact, Abba only started calling her 'Umma' after Inna joined the household; before then, he called her Asabe.
I reached Asabe's door and called out greetings, but she didn't answer. So, I pushed through the door, set the food down just by the entrance, and walked out without looking back.
I returned to finish getting ready before sitting down to eat with my siblings. The four of us always ate together from the same plate because elders say it fosters deep family bonds.
As we were about to finish, Asabe appeared. Even before reaching us, she was shouting Inna's name in distress. All of our attention turned toward her as we looked at her doorway.
Coming over, she demanded, "Who brought food to my room?"
In a calm voice characteristic of our mother—which almost all of us inherited—she asked Asabe, "Is something wrong, Inna?"
Angrily, Asabe said, "I am asking who you sent to bring me food? I just set my sweet potatoes down and stepped out, and now I can't find them! That's how I know whoever brought the food is the one who stole them. I've been enduring thefts in my room for a long time. I can't even keep my few coins without them going missing!"
I quickly interjected, "May God protect me from taking what belongs to another! I brought the food, and I didn't even look around your room before leaving."
"Shut your mouth, you greedy brat! Your thievery has reached this extent without my knowledge? I must call a carpenter to put a padlock on my door so that one day you won't do something worse to me."
A wave of bitter anger washed over me instantly, and I felt my vision blur out of sheer frustration over the false accusation of stealing sweet potatoes that Asabe pinned on me. If I hadn't known she was our father's mother, I would have left her to God's judgment right there. Despite Inna’s patience, she felt compelled to speak up this time.
"Habiba, Umma, this girl went in to bring you food right in front of me and came out, and I didn't see anything in her hands."
"Of course, you will support her! She starts her evil habits at home, and when it takes root, she will end up stuck with you here because no one will take a thief into his house."
Abba walked in with a greeting. Seeing us standing in a tense circle, he couldn't help but say, "Are sweet potatoes so abundant in this house now that Umma's goat is left to eat them like this?"
We all looked at Asabe upon hearing what Baba said. She immediately began stammering, trying to make excuses.
I put my hands on my head and let out a loud cry, saying, "Asabe, what did I do to you that you would falsely accuse me of theft in front of everyone? So it was your goat that took your sweet potatoes, and you came out claiming I stole them, even adding that I enter your room to steal money?!"
Abba barked a shout at me, saying, "Hey, hey! What are you saying?"
Quickly, my younger sister Fatima, who followed me, said, "Abba, just now Asabe was claiming Abu stole her sweet potatoes from the room, simply because she brought her the food Inna gave her to deliver."
In a mix of anger and shock, Abba turned around and said, "Theft, Umma? These children are your own blood, Umma. Even if she had taken them, you shouldn't call it theft."
She shouted back at him, saying, "Shut up, you fool who doesn't know what he's doing! Is today the first time things are stolen from me in this house? I usually keep quiet to avoid this kind of situation, but when I speak up, you call me a liar in front of your children and wives. Who knows if she was the one who took them, and seeing she would be caught, threw them to my goat?"
"May God grant relief," Abba said as he headed toward his room. He didn't enter but bent down to pick up a kettle to go to the restroom. Asabe also turned back to her quarters, grumbling continuously that Abba and Inna were ruining us with a corrupt upbringing.
Inna went into her room crying, which forced me to wipe my own tears so Inna wouldn't suffer further distress. Since that incident, I completely distanced myself from Asabe's affairs. I had nothing to do with her business; our interaction was limited strictly to formal greetings, and I never ventured near her quarters.
We watched how she doted on her grandchildren from the city whenever they visited, acting as if they were her only true descendants, while we weren't even deemed worthy to sit near her. This is why people say grandparents prefer the children of their daughters; I confirmed this truth through our grandmother.
Gradually, the time for the marriage she arranged for our father arrived. The wedding preparations became intense. Asabe acted as the chief coordinator, even though Abba explicitly stated he didn't have the financial means to marry another wife at the moment. She ordered us to be evacuated from the room we slept in. We watched helplessly as it was cleaned out thoroughly. This woman, who constantly complained of having no money, suddenly produced funds just to spite our mother and make her life miserable.
She kept gloating, "May God bring Abba’s new bride quickly to give birth to an heir in this house, so they too can join the ranks of families boasting of male children in this town."

Part 2: Summary of the Text

The provided text consists of two distinct Hausa fictional narratives centering around themes of toxic polygamous/extended family dynamics, class divide, favoritism, and the societal pressures surrounding gender roles (specifically the preference for male children).

1. The First Narrative (Sections 1 & 3): Domestic Tyranny and False Accusations

• The Conflict: The story takes place in a rural setting (Ancau, Kaduna State) and follows a young girl named Abu (Yar Mairo), her patient mother (Inna/Saudatu), her struggling father (Abba), and her grandmother (Asabe).
• The Villainy of Asabe: Asabe is a bitter grandmother who torments Inna for only giving birth to daughters. She treats them like outsiders, constantly insults them, and demands that Abba take a second wife to bear sons.
• Economic Strain: Abba's mechanics/repair business is failing due to customers buying on credit. Ironically, it is Inna’s meager savings that are feeding the entire household, yet Asabe treats her food with utter disdain.
• The Scapegoat: Asabe falsely accuses Abu of stealing sweet potatoes and money from her room. The lie is quickly exposed when Abba catches Asabe’s goat eating the missing potatoes. Despite being caught in her lie, Asabe doubles down on her abuse.

• Forced Marriage: Driven by malice, Asabe uses her own hidden funds to sponsor a second marriage for Abba against his will, purposely clearing out the children's room for the new bride just to break Inna’s spirit and secure a "male heir."

  2. The Second Narrative (Section 2): Class Divide and Family Hypocrisy

• The Setting: A wealthy, modern household in Kaduna where Hajia Iyami lives comfortably with modern amenities (AC, phone-ordering).
• The Reunion: Hajia Iyami welcomes two of her late husband’s half-sisters, Safiya (a schoolteacher) and Sa'ade (a nurse). They reminisce about the old days in Lagos before their father's wealth collapsed during the Shagari political era.
• The Core Issue: Safiya and Sa'ade open up about the painful discrimination they face within the larger family. Because their mother was a younger/second wife from a village, the older wife's children (led by a woman named Sadiya) look down on them as poor outsiders.
• Generational Arrogance: This toxic family pride is shown leaking into the next generation. Hajia Iyami's daughters return from school and treat their aunts with blatant disrespect. Hajia strictly reprimands her daughters, reminding them that wealth is fleeting and family unity is paramount.