“Of course, it was bound to happen since my mother was running the household. Their own mother passed away when they were very young, which was why he married Hajiya Binta. She then started bearing children for him like a swarm of ants.”

The remark amused me, bringing a slight smile to my face as I asked, “Like a swarm of ants?”

“Yes, indeed,” she replied. “You know how we women can be. Sometimes, co-wife rivalry (kishi) even extends to children who aren't even born yet. When you encounter people who lack the fear of Allah, you see all sorts of things happen.”

We sat there for quite a while enjoying our conversation. It wasn't until after the late afternoon prayer (Asr) that we finally went into the room. After coming back out, as I was getting ready for my Islamic evening school (islamiya), she continued chatting with me. I was essentially Ammah’s primary companion for conversation in the house, because Abbu was rarely around; he spent his days at his market stall and only returned home in the evening. Even when he did return, he usually stayed outside with his friends to pass the night chatting.

For several days, this routine continued, with Ammah constantly retelling the story of the wedding. Even though she mentioned they had been treated with condescension—noting that Hajiya acted as if she didn't even know them this time around—she nonetheless kept praising how grand and beautiful the celebration was.

Soon, our final examinations arrived. By the grace of Allah, we sat for them, and afterward, we returned to a routine of staying at home, waiting and hoping for a favorable outcome from Allah. An exam of this nature is entirely a matter of divine favor; only those blessed with good fortune by Allah manage to pass and move forward.

Throughout this period of waiting, I never once heard Abbu bring up the topic of my schooling, despite his earlier promise to help me further my education at the time. The desire was deeply anchored in my heart because I truly possessed a strong passion for learning, even though I knew my parents could not realistically afford it, as higher education is meant for the affluent.

The idle routine of staying at home, which I had resigned myself to, was beginning to take its toll on me. I had nowhere to go except for the occasional errands I ran for Ammah to the neighbors' houses, which were the only reasons I ever stepped outside.

Moreover, as if to mark the completion of my secondary studies, I experienced a sudden physical growth spurt during this period. My natural features became much more pronounced and visible, to the point where I took to wearing a face veil (niqab) whenever I had to go out. I did this because I disliked the attention; I could feel people's eyes constantly fixed on me.

One day, upon returning from my *islamiya* graduation ceremony (hadda), I was highly surprised to find Abbu at home. Seeing him carrying a prayer mat, a plastic kettle (buta), and a cup of water, I instantly understood that he had a guest at the time. It was unusual for him to be home at that hour. Furthermore, when I walked into the house, I found Ammah visibly distressed; I could even tell she had been crying. The fact that she was still wearing her hijab only made my heart sink further.

However, I kept quiet. After greeting her, I went into my room and set my bag down. I stayed inside for quite a while. Eventually, I heard Abbu walk back inside, and he and Ammah went into the room, engaging in a low, hushed whisper (kus\ kus\ kus) between themselves. Although I strained my ears to understand what was happening, I couldn't make out any details of their conversation, which left me feeling deeply unsettled and gloomy for the rest of the day.

At the time, the thought of Nana never even crossed my mind. How could I have even suspected her? She was a sister whose whereabouts no one knew. Even if she were in Saudi Arabia, I wouldn't have guessed that this development originated from her.

As it turned out, she was the one who had sent Abbu a massive sum of money. The courier had arrived with the joyful news that she was alive and well, living in a certain town where she was married and had already given birth to two children. The courier had verified this himself; he had met Nana and her family at a mosque in Medina, where they spent a long time together. She had been highly impressed by the man's decent character, which gave her the confidence to entrust him with this delivery for my current parents.

This was what had moved Ammah to tears—hearing news of her sister and receiving the massive bounty the man had delivered to us. What was truly astonishing was that while Nana had news of them, they had completely lost track of her. She even knew exactly where they had relocated, as she was the one who gave the courier the precise directions to our house.

According to the courier, Nana had become quite influential and well-off over there, running her own successful business and earning a substantial amount of money. He mentioned that she had requested he see me, but he was told I was away at *islamiya*.

After Abbu left the house, I was standing by the hearth lighting the fire when I suddenly heard Ammah burst into a deep, sorrowful weep that instantly distressed me. Before I knew it, I rushed into the room in a state of sheer panic.

Approaching Ammah, who was kneeling and staring intently at a pile of clothes, I asked in a frantic, trembling voice, “Ammah, who died? What happened? Has something awful occurred?” I poured out these anxious questions all at once before my eyes fell upon the items laid out in front of her. Instantly, my heart sank heavily (ras\ ras).

I slowly sank to my knees, my eyes scanning the items. The only words that managed to escape my lips at that moment were, “Is this from Nana, Ammah?”

Ammah shot me a sharp, intense look. Without another word, I stood up, braced myself, and walked out of the room. I returned to my chores by the hearth, refusing to look back toward Ammah’s room again.

Her emerging from the room in surprise coincided with Abbu walking into the house, carrying groceries he had just bought for us. I raised my eyes, which had turned red from crying, and greeted him. He responded warmly, saying, “I knew I'd find you here, Nana. I rushed back as fast as I could, praying to Allah that you hadn't already prepared the starch porridge (talge) before I arrived.”

I watched as Ammah took the groceries from his hands, my gaze lingering on a small sack he indicated contained foodstuff, which he set aside. I quickly averted my eyes and went back to my work, overhearing Ammah say, “Malam, come over here.” He followed her into the room.

Before Abbu could fully step inside, Ammah exclaimed, “I heard something truly astonishing from the mouth of that girl today!” He quickly turned around to look at me, seeing me tending to the fire, before turning back to her and asking, “What happened now?”

She let out a heavy, weary sigh before replying, “I heard her mention her mother's name out of nowhere, Malam, as if in a dream. She explicitly said 'Nana', didn't she?”

He gave a slight smile and said, “Did you think that despite her age, she was completely oblivious? She knows. She knows everything about her mother. She even saw her photograph in this very room the other day.”

Clutching her chest in shock, she cried, “Oh dear, Malam! How on earth did that happen?”

He replied, “I don't know how it happened, but she saw it and knows everything.” She immediately sank onto their small wooden bed, burying her head in her hands.

“What is the big deal if she knows? Is it such a terrible thing to you? Please, compose yourself and guide this girl gently, considering how well she has behaved with us. I don't want any unnecessary drama that will cause bitterness right now.”

Despite his words, Ammah could not calm down. It wasn't until after the night prayer (Isha) when Abbu returned from the mosque and stepped out again that she sat in our usual sitting area and called out to me from the room. I answered and walked over to her.

She was still sitting there, looking deeply troubled. As I approached, she looked up and asked, “Are you going to sleep without eating anything, Aeesha?”

“I’m full,” I replied in a quiet, strained voice. She looked up sharply, fixing her gaze on me, and demanded, “What could you possibly have eaten to be full?”

“Nothing,” I muttered under my breath, completely consumed by a heavy sense of sorrow.

“What on earth is wrong with your life that you've chosen to burden yourself with this constant misery? Listen to me clearly, Aeesha, Allah is our witness—both myself and this good man have never deprived you of anything in your life. What this good man has sacrificed for you is more than what many biological fathers would do. Yet, you choose to wallow in distress and adopt this strange attitude over something that shouldn't even concern you. Whatever anyone else tells you in this world, when we present you with the truth, you must accept it, because that is your reality. We would never tell you anything that would harm your future or bring distress to us, since we are the ones who are with you through thick and thin.”

I began to weep softly. She cut me off sharply, saying, “I didn't bring you here to cry to me. I called you to find out: who has been feeding you these stories about us, or about yourself?”

I shook my head, signaling that it was nothing, even though deep down in my heart, I felt a suffocating misery so intense that I wished I could just end my life. What made me look up was Ammah’s voice continuing, “Even though you refuse to ask me about the history you're wasting away over, I know that you know. However, what completely baffles me is where you actually heard this story. I simply want to know: what exactly were you told about your mother?”

With visible fear on my face, I looked up at her briefly before casting my eyes downward in deep thought. I heard her let out a sharp hiss of frustration before she added, “The clothes and the large sum of money she entrusted to that good man were sent specifically for you and us. So, get up and go inspect them if you care to, because I see you've let your heart obsess over things that are entirely uncalled for right now.”

Shaking my head, I replied, “I don't want even a single thread from it, Ammah. Give it to whoever deserves it, I am fine.” Before I could even finish my sentence, Ammah’s hand delivered a stinging slap to my face. The sheer force and burning pain of it made me stagger sideways from where I was seated.

She began to scold me angrily, shouting, “Are you bringing this insolence to me, Aeesha? Is this how you repay me after all these years? To think that I carried you and raised you with absolute honesty and sincerity before Allah! Even if Nana and your father wronged you initially, if you look closely, Nana is trying to make amends now; she is trying to cleanse your heart. What fault lies in that, considering everything she sends is meant to improve your life? Do not take us for fools who don't know what they are doing. Even if Nana has come to possess the entire world now, it doesn't blind my eyes or move my soul, nor does it mean she is engaging in anything dishonorable over there. That man swore to us, just as she swore to him, that she legally remarried over there after moving to Saudi Arabia. So, tread carefully with me before you completely exhaust my patience. Do not bring this utter nonsense to mess up my peace of mind now.”

My sobbing intensified. Ammah’s harsh, unprompted lecture—and a physical beating the likes of which I had never experienced since I grew up—was all because I had stated I wouldn't accept the items Nana sent.

At that moment, the sound of Abbu clearing his throat signaled his entry into the compound. Despite his arrival, I couldn't hold back the intensity of my crying, sobbing loudly and sniffing heavily as a wave of intense grief overcame my heart.

From the threshold, he called out, “What on earth is going on here?” Neither Ammah nor I offered him a response.

He pressed further, saying, “I am asking a question, and there is total silence. What brought about this situation? And why are you crying like this, Ammamatan?” He turned toward her, staring intently, demanding an answer.

“Malam, imagine Aeesha sitting here and arguing with me today! Just because someone cornered her and fed her false stories, she takes it to heart and is now trying to outsmart everyone.”

Abbu turned toward me, studying me with a look filled with profound sympathy. He then turned back to her and said, “Habal, Ammah, please deal with this girl gently, for Allah's sake. Whatever she has done today is merely a product of youth and bitter emotions. If she has been hurt, she is bound to react this way. Where is your patience, that you would lower yourself to trade words with a young girl? I could hear her weeping all the way outside.”

“Of course I have to trade words with her, Malam! What does this girl want from me now with this rebellious attitude she’s exhibiting? As if the struggles we've endured over the absence of our sister weren't enough. Whatever grief she feels, we feel it too. By Allah, I don't deserve this treatment from her. What have we deprived this girl of, Malam, for Allah's sake?”

“Umm, ummm, Ammamatan, look at this situation objectively. Weigh the years; they are not the same. If you, or even an elder like yourself, were caught up in a situation like this, how would you feel, for Allah's sake? A child must be guided to understanding slowly and patiently, not with rashness and anger.”

He then turned to me and said, “As for you, Nana, wipe your tears right now if you want us to have a calm, reasonable discussion. Otherwise, I will lose my temper as well, wash my hands of this entire matter, walk out, and leave you and Ammamatan to fight it out indefinitely.”

Hearing Abbu’s ultimatum, I gradually slowed my crying. Seeing this, he turned and stepped outside briefly. Not long after, I stood up and retreated into my room, leaving Ammah behind as her eyes followed me out.

He stayed outside for a while before I heard him return and lock the main gate. Moments later, his voice sounded at my door, calling out my name loudly, “Hey, Nana, come out and collect this.”

Hearing his call, I emerged from the room. He looked at me and said, “Take this, go to the water clay pot (randa), fetch some water, wash your face and mouth, and then come sit down and eat.”

“I’m full,” I replied weakly. He let out a sharp, commanding shout that instantly sent me scurrying toward our water clay pot to fetch the water.

He sat down on a mat he had spread out in the middle of the courtyard. When I returned, he pointed to the space beside him and said, “Sit right here next to me.”

Without any protest, I sat down exactly as he instructed. He handed me a plastic bag. Even before opening it, the rich aroma wafting through the paper wrapping, coupled with the presence of two chilled bottles of nutrient milk, told me exactly what was inside.

Once I accepted it, he called out to Ammah as well. When she emerged, he handed her a similar bag, saying, “Take this and open it for us.” She sat down with a heavy heart and began opening the bag he had handed her.

He turned slightly, fixing his gaze on me, and said, “Go ahead and say *Bismillah*, Nana. This is yours. I noticed that your spirits were thoroughly dampened today, and you both skipped dinner. Going to bed on an empty stomach will only cause health issues for you later on. Hurry up, open it and start eating, and listen closely to what I am about to say. I want everyone here to give me their undivided attention.”

“I am speaking now in my capacity as a father and the head of this household. Therefore, I am issuing direct directives and establishing rules in my home. I want each of you to pay absolute attention and listen to me.”

“Nana, I will start with you. I want you to listen carefully to what I am about to lay down regarding your situation. You are the focal point of this issue now, and if you comply, it will be viewed favorably by everyone. Even your mother sitting here—it was merely distress and worry that drove her to this outburst today, not because she harbors any ill will toward you.”

“Nana, I expected that your education, intelligence, and proper upbringing would grant you the maturity to understand the solid foundation upon which we are trying to establish your life now. Instead, I see the opposite from you. I believed that the widespread praise of your knowledge and academic brilliance would allow you to foresee the heights we are preparing to elevate you to. If you look back, there is not a single child in this house whom I allowed to pursue education as deeply as we have permitted you. Do you honestly believe I did that simply because you are not my biological child, or what?”

I quickly raised my eyes to look at him through my tears, shaking my head vigorously to signal that I didn't think that way at all.

He continued, “Well, it seems that way to me, Nana. Let me explain the reason to you now. I have come to see that modern education is the ultimate ladder for advancement in this world; it is the stepping stone to achieving one's life ambitions today. If you are a farmer, it takes modern knowledge to expand your yields; if you are a scholar, it takes education to achieve true progress in life. Indeed, whatever enterprise you undertake today—even business—if you lack education, it cannot flourish as it truly should. That is why I seized this opportunity to ensure we enhance your life, so you can secure a prosperous future.”

“Alhamdulillah, because you are a calm, well-behaved, and disciplined girl, we hold these high aspirations for you. I would never want us to limit your potential or leave you stranded in the future, only for you to realize later on that we didn't raise you with absolute sincerity before God. With this modern education, you will comprehend the realities of life exactly as we hope. Furthermore, you will eventually be in a position to judge your own path and that of your parents, if we are blessed with life and health.”

I closed my eyes in deep anguish from where I sat, feeling my heart boil at the mere mention of my parents in his speech.

He pressed on, saying, “Therefore, it is for this very reason that I want to grant you an opportunity I have never given to any other child in this house—to acquire a high-quality education that will serve as your pillar of support in life. After all, life and death are certainties for every servant of God; if we are here today, we may not be here tomorrow.”

“However, achieving all of this requires that I utilize a portion of the wealth your mother keeps sending us. This is the only feasible way, because you yourself are a witness to the fact that I do not possess the personal means to fund these grand plans I have for you. Therefore, this idea of you refusing to utilize the resources sent by your mother is entirely out of the question, Nana.”

“Even if I were to swear an oath, I wouldn't have to expiate it: she sends these resources solely to secure your future. After all, Ammamatan isn't the only relative she left behind here in Nigeria; she has numerous other kinsmen. Why doesn't she send money to those other relatives if she simply has an excess of wealth, as you might think? Therefore, I do not want you to do an injustice to yourself, Nana. If you are harboring doubts about Nana Asma'u...” He paused, shook his head, and concluded, “Nana possesses more wisdom and discretion than anyone around here.”

“She knows her roots, and she understands the value of her parents and relatives. She would never allow anything dishonorable to taint her life over there. This is why I am among those who believe what she says one hundred percent, regarding the destiny that brought about her current circumstances. I knew exactly who Na