MUNAFIKIN MIJI BOOK COMPELET HAUSA NOVELS BY NIMCEY SARAUTA 

Ridayya knelt on the floor, clutching her heavily protruding pregnant stomach with both hands. A short distance away sat the empty chemical bottle of Fiya-Fiya (sniper/poison) that she had completely drained into her system. Large beads of cold sweat broke out across every inch of her body. Initially, her limbs had trembled and shaken violently, but now they went completely limp, leaving her entirely devoid of the energy or physical strength required to help herself.
Hot, agonizing tears began to trace down the corners of her tightly shut eyes. She felt a burning, lacerating pain deep within her chest—a sensation that was systematically suffocating every single muscle of her heart. She had never truly stopped to consider the devastating impact the chemical poison would inflict upon the unborn child in her womb, especially since the tiny, innocent life had completely ceased all movement a while ago.
"Ya Allah!" she gasped from the depths of her throat, right as a thick, white chemical foam began to ooze from the corners of her mouth.
Squeezing her eyelids shut even harder, she hovered precariously on the razor-thin line between life and death. Yet, the impending darkness did not stop the horrific real-world images from flashing vividly across her mind. The trauma sat heavily and immovably in her heart; even the lethal poison she had consumed had not yet succeeded in burying those memories. It was a betrayal brutal enough to carry her straight to her grave, which was precisely why she was fighting a losing battle with her own soul, desperately begging her heart to stop beating and to purge itself of her profound love for her husband.
Ridayya lost all track of time as she lay paralyzed on the plastic mat in the center of her room, her head rolling side to side in agony. Slowly, her breathing ground to a complete halt, and the distant sound of Zameer’s voice—which had always sounded to her like the sweet, melodic notes of an Algaita flute—faded into absolute, suffocating silence.
"Baby, I swear I just heard the distinct sound of a door clicking open?" Khairiyya whispered with immense difficulty, her voice laced with pure terror. Throughout her entire illicit stay in the house, Khairiyya had never dared to even sit on the same couch as Zameer, let alone share a private room with him.
Zameer remained perfectly still, listening intently. Slowly, he stood up, adjusted the waistband of his shorts, and walked toward the door to peer outside. Seeing that the compound was entirely deserted under the flickering glow of the national grid light, he slipped into his sandals and marched directly toward Ridayya’s private quarters. Finding her parlor empty, he walked straight into her main bedroom.
The moment he stepped inside, he found her sprawled motionless on the floor with her back facing the doorway. Assuming she was simply fast asleep, Zameer merely shrugged both shoulders indifferently. He didn't bother to step closer, investigate her condition, or wonder why she was lying face down on her pregnant belly on the hard floor. Let alone understand the gravity of her distress.
Letting out a quiet, relieved sigh, Zameer felt the intense dread that had gripped his chest instantly evaporate. He concluded that the noise they had heard earlier was simply a violent gust of wind rattling the doors, given that it was the dead of night.
The moment he walked back into his room, he found Khairiyya standing anxiously waiting for him. Stepping into his personal space, she demanded, "It was her, wasn’t it?"
He remained silent, staring at her coldly. Khairiyya cried out, "Innalillahi wa'inna ilaihir raji'un! Your wife caught us, baby!"
"Shut up!" Zameer snapped, narrowing his eyes dangerously at Khairiyya before running his fingers through his hair and pacing deeper into the room.
Khairiyya pouted dramatically and pressed on, "Baby, I’m talking to you and you’re completely shutting me out? Where is Ridayya? Did she see us together?"
In a harsh, furious roar, he barked, "Listen to me, and listen carefully: do not stand there and scream over my head!" He completely snapped at her on the spot. Khairiyya immediately fell silent; she knew Zameer’s volatile temperament inside out, and she knew that if she pushed him any further right now, he would completely lose his mind.
"Just unlock the door and let me leave," Khairiyya whispered, her voice trembling slightly. For the very first time, a profound wave of raw terror and intense intimidation regarding Ridayya crashed over her heart, accompanied by an unexpected, crushing wave of intense shame.
Deep down, she knew the psychological truth: no woman on earth could ever endure the sight of her husband—the man about to become the father of her unborn child—philandering with other young girls. Let alone catching him red-handed with another woman inside their holy, matrimonial home, sharing a room and laying on the exact same bed. If she were in Ridayya's shoes, she wouldn't just ruin the girl; she would inflict enough physical damage to put her permanently on a hospital bed.
"Baby, please unlock the door for me."
"Shhh...!" Zameer hissed exhaustedly, turning his back to her once more. He realized that Khairiyya was completely oblivious to the powerful, disruptive effect her voice had on his psyche. The hairs on his arms stood on end, and his heart began to hammer violently against his ribs. He couldn't comprehend the psychological storm raging within himself, nor did he have the mental clarity to analyze it. Khairiyya’s physical image was burned indelibly into his mind, and her striking silhouette continuously danced behind his eyelids.
"I swear to Allah, I cannot spend another night in this house! Your wife is going to kill me! She will slaughter me because she loves you with a terrifying, borderline psychotic obsession!" Khairiyya whimpered.
Only then did he turn his head to look at her, his highly manipulative, expressive eyes locking onto hers. "She loves me... and she loves whatever I love," he murmured before pausing heavily. He then added, "Find a place to lay down. You are suffocating me; just looking at you right now is putting an unendurable pressure on my heart!"
Khairiyya stared at Zameer in absolute confusion, completely unable to decipher the true, twisted meaning behind his words. She lacked the emotional depth required to weigh his speech and understand his internal conflict.
In reality, Zameer was fighting a desperate battle with his own soul to stop obsessing over Khairy, trying to force his eyes from turning back to look at her for the millionth time. Clutching his head tightly between his hands, he mentally yelled: "You're lying! I swear to Allah you're lying, Khairy! You don't possess the power to control my thoughts!"
Yet, her memory continued to violently derail his focus despite the fact that they were physically in the same room. With immense effort, he forced the intrusive thoughts away, pulled out his smartphone, and logged onto the internet. He began scrolling through photos of various young girls; however, because he possessed highly elite, arrogant standards, he rarely hit the "like" button, no matter how hard a girl tried to impress him.
Following his rigid, habitual daily routine, he performed his ritual ablutions just before the first cracks of dawn and observed his Raka'atul Fajr prayers.
Meanwhile, Zainaba stood right outside Ridayya’s doorway, calling out her name repeatedly. Growing exhausted, she muttered to herself, "Glory be to Allah. Whatever is keeping Ridayya from coming out to make her usual Yar Tsala (traditional bean cakes) must be incredibly serious. May Allah grant that all is well."
Clutching the serving plate in her hands, Zainaba turned on her heel to leave, but an unshakable feeling of pure dread gripped her heart. The sudden, invasive thought of Ridayya caused her pulse to skyrocket. Acting on pure instinct, she dashed through the front entrance, shouting the traditional Islamic greeting. She completely brushed aside the sacred boundary that Ridayya never allowed anyone to cross—entering her inner bedroom without permission—and kicked the door open.
The horrific scene that met Zainaba's eyes frozen her blood. Ridayya lay completely motionless on the floor, her skin turning an unnatural, terrifyingly dark shade of ash-black. The chemical white foam was still oozing from her lips.
In a state of absolute horror, Zainaba dropped her plate, the ceramic shattering on the floor as she screamed, "Innalillahi! Ridayya, you patient, long-suffering soul... what on earth has happened to you, my child?!"
But Ridayya was no longer breathing. Her physical vessel was entirely unresponsive; her ears had long since grown deaf to the sounds of this world. Realizing with absolute certainty that Ridayya was now a corpse, Zainaba rushed out into the central compound, screaming at the top of her lungs.
"Servant of Allah! Husband of this house, where on earth are you?! I said where are you?!"
Absolute silence. No answer. Zainaba didn't waste time dwelling on it, assuming he was simply oblivious to his wife's condition. She marched directly toward Zameer’s private room and yanked the heavy curtain aside. She froze in her tracks, her jaw dropping at the sight of a young woman sitting casually in the center of the mattress, dressed in nothing but a micro-short skirt and a revealing half-vest.
"Khairy?!" Zainaba gasped, entirely traumatized. It was common knowledge across the entire neighborhood that Khairiyya was supposedly Zameer’s biological younger sister.
Khairiyya bolted upright, her entire frame shaking and trembling in pure terror. She was completely tongue-tied, her lips moving soundlessly as she struggled to formulate a single word.
Zainaba sneered bitterly, "Well, hello there, Khairy."
"Pl... Please...," Khairiyya stammered, entirely paralyzed because she assumed Zainaba had figured out their entire illicit affair.
Zainaba fell silent for a moment. Utilizing the seasoned intuition of an adult woman of her age, she instantly connected the dots. She realized that something deeply sinister and perverted was taking place under this roof—something was deeply fishy!
Straightening her posture, Zainaba challenged, "I am greeting you, Khairiyya. Or is my greeting suddenly unwelcome?"
Khairiyya shook her head violently, tears pouring down her face as she broke down. "Ridayya sent you to destroy me, didn't she?! She finally found out that I am not actually her husband Zameer’s younger sister like he constantly lied to her every single day?! She found out that I don't share a single drop of biological blood with him, and that I'm not even a native of Kano State, let alone his sister?! She found out the truth... she finally knows!"
Zainaba felt the entire world spin. Her brain suffered a complete cognitive overload, freezing under the sheer weight of the revelation. She stared at Khairiyya as if looking at a raving lunatic, shocked by the audacity of the deception.
Khairy wailed, "I will pack my things and leave this house this very second, I swear to Allah! Please, just don't hurt me...!"
Zainaba shook her head, her expression hardening into pure rage. "In the name of my ancestors, leave? Leave this house just like that? Let me tell you something: if you manage to walk out of this compound alive, it will only be after I have permanently broken your body! You will leave here missing a hand or a leg!" Wiping away her tears of intense frustration, she barked, "You are a woman, and yet you chose to facilitate this? One day, the universe will force you to taste the exact brand of bitter agony you inflicted upon Ridayya! To think a vile, adulterous harlot was living comfortably inside her matrimonial home under the sacred guise of a sister-in-law, and it was all a disgusting lie! Allah will never let you get away with this—neither you nor that wretched excuse of a husband!"
With those parting words, Zainaba slammed the door shut, turned the key in the lock, and securely trapped Khairiyya inside the room. Turning around frantically, she pulled out her smartphone and accessed her call logs. The very last number dialed on Ridayya's phone was saved under the contact name “MY LIFE” (Zameer).
Zainaba called the number five times back-to-back, but it rang out completely unanswered. She scrolled further down past sister Diya's number until her eyes landed on a contact labeled “Big Brother Bilal.” Without a moment's hesitation, Zainaba pressed dial.
As if he had been sitting by his phone waiting for this exact call, Bilal answered on the very first ring. "Auta (Little Sister), why the early morning call?"
Zainaba went completely silent. The sheer depth and resonance of Bilal's voice vibrated through her core. It was a remarkably grounded, deep bass sound that mirrored the smooth, unhurried notes of an Algaita flute—entirely devoid of aggression. Hearing the heavy silence on the line, Bilal paused. He realized instantly that this was not his little sister, Auta. Yet, his disciplined demeanor masked the intense, magnetic pull that his soul felt whenever he was near her or heard her voice—an unbidden attraction that constantly threatened to upend his structured world.
He said nothing further. He was a man of few words who despised meaningless banter; if someone was calling from Auta's personal line, there was a critical reason for it. However, he knew with absolute certainty that Zameer would never swallow his pride enough to call him.
Zainaba finally let out the heavy breath she had been holding. "Your... Your......"
Bilal cut her off instantly with cold, razor-sharp precision. "Drop the stammering. Where is she?"
With immense difficulty, Zainaba choked out, "There is no certainty whether she is still breathing or not. But looking at her with my own two eyes... Ridayya is dead."
Click! The line went completely dead. Bilal had hung up instantly without waiting for her to finish her sentence. Zainaba stood frozen for a long time, repeatedly trying to call the number back, but it went straight to voicemail.
She lost all track of time as she stood over Ridayya's body, her eyes glued to her phone screen. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the front door was violently kicked open off its hinges. Zainaba recoiled in shock, unable to recognize the man who had just stormed into the room. Since she knew absolutely no one from Ridayya’s biological family, this was the first time her eyes had ever beheld this towering figure.
BILAL stood at the threshold, his face contorted into a terrifying, rigid mask of pure fury as his eyes tracked her shadow. Without uttering a single word, he gathered the entirety of his physical strength, bent down, and scooped Ridayya’s heavy, pregnant body into his arms. He marched out of the house, placing her gently onto the backseat of his vehicle.
Just as he was about to climb into the driver's seat, he paused. Without casting a single glance toward Zainaba, who was standing paralyzed at her own doorway, he rasped with immense difficulty, "Her... her husband?" He adjusted the heavy metal watch strap on his wrist.
Only then did Zainaba notice the fresh, dark blood dripping down Bilal's forehead. She quickly replied, "He wasn't here when I broke into the house. I don't know how long she has been lying like this. Allah simply ordained that I come over to buy some of her traditional bean cakes for a young girl. When she didn't answer, I entered her room and found her in this state. I tried calling her husband, but he is nowhere to be found... instead, I found another woman locked inside his private room..."
Bilal sharply raised his hand, cutting her off instantly. He swung himself into the driver's seat, slammed the door, and tore out of the neighborhood at breakneck speed.
Zainaba held her chin in utter bewilderment. "What a tragic family destiny. Even speaking seems to cause that man immense physical pain. He and Zameer are cut from the exact same cloth." Turning around, she walked back into her house, her mind reeling over the profound, completely blind love and absolute patience that Ridayya had wastefully poured onto Zameer.
Bilal drove like a man possessed, completely blind to the streets he was navigating. He knew he was on the main asphalt grid and that he needed to locate the nearest emergency hospital, but Zainaba's words were ringing like a siren in his ears. The one detail that cut him deeper than anything else was the realization that Ridayya had been reduced to frying traditional bean cakes (Yar Tsala) to survive.
What on earth did Ridayya lack in this life? She had willfully chosen a worthless husband over her own elite family, completely destroying her dignity for the sake of love, transforming herself into the laughingstock and gossip of the entire clan and neighborhood!
He stood inside the hospital reception area, his head bowed low. Ever since they had rushed her into the Emergency Trauma Wing, he had been pacing the floors erratically before finally collapsing into a waiting chair. A shadow suddenly fell over him, forcing him to raise his eyes. He looked up at Mami and Ammi.
Taking a ragged breath, he stood up as Ammi demanded, "Head of this household, how is our youngest child? What on earth is happening here?"
Bilal’s throat locked; he was physically unable to speak. Ammi pressed on, "I told Abdullahi and Khalifa to follow me here immediately, but they completely washed their hands of Ridayya’s existence long ago! What happened so early this morning? Hajiya Fatima refuses to tell me anything!"
Before Bilal could force a response, a surgeon stepped out of the operating theater, wiping sweat from his brow. Spotting them, the doctor asked sharply, "Are you her husband?"
"Doctor, please tell me," Ammi interrupted frantically. "Do not tell us our youngest child Ridayya is dead! Do not say it, or you will shatter too many hearts today!"
The doctor bypassed her, locking eyes with Bilal again. "Are you the husband?"
Bilal stood there as if his lips had been permanently stitched shut. He was entirely paralyzed, his heart hammering violently against his ribs with every passing second. The mere mention of Ridayya’s name felt like molten lead being poured directly into the chambers of his heart; it was an agonizing sound he had never learned to tolerate. And the word death was something he would never accept—not when it came to Ridayya.
"Yes, he is her husband," Ammi lied to the doctor, answering on his behalf. The surgeon accepted the answer instantly, as the severe sweat pouring down Bilal's bruised forehead spoke volumes of his psychological trauma.
"Follow me into my office," the doctor directed, turning on his heel.
Ammi grabbed Bilal's trembling hand. "Let’s go inside, Bilal." He held his breath, shaking his head violently in refusal, but she dragged him forcefully into the consultation room anyway.
The doctor reviewed the medical charts before looking directly at Bilal. In a low, disgusted tone, he said, "You possess absolutely no humanity. You have no mercy, and you do not deserve to be called a husband. Frankly, you are a monstrous, abusive man."
Ammi flew into a maternal rage, slamming her hand on the desk. "Listen to me, doctor! Where do you get the audacity to insult him like this? You did not carry him in your womb, nor did you give birth to him!"
The doctor stood his ground, his eyes flashing with clinical anger. "I harbor absolutely no fear or regret in saying this, Hajiya. A curse deserves to rest upon his head! Your wife is heavily pregnant, yet you have never provided her with a single prenatal vitamin or basic medication? Instead, she has been subjected to continuous physical and sexual violence! The fetus in her womb has completely decomposed inside her body!"
Ammi gasped, clutching her chest. "Innalillahi wa'inna ilaihir raji'un! The baby decomposed inside Ridayya?! We had absolutely no idea... she never told us she wasn't visiting the hospital!"
The doctor let out a bitter, cynical laugh. "Oh, so you're the mother-in-law, Hajiya? And you're sitting here actively trying to shield your son's criminal depravity? I swear to Allah, if I possessed the legal authority, I would personally drag him to a court of law right now! I am the only one who has seen the state of that poor girl's body—she is suffering from severe, advanced starvation!"
Bilal stood up abruptly, his vision going completely black as a violent wave of dizziness threatened to drop him to the floor.
"Bilal!" Ammi barked. Seeing him stumble toward the exit, she yelled, "Bilal, do not dare step foot inside that vehicle! Don't you dare drive in this state!"
Only then did he snap his head around to look at her, his voice a dangerous, low snarl: "Stop screaming at me, Ammi. Stop it, I beg of you."
He stormed out of the hospital. Ammi turned back to the surgeon, her voice trembling. "What is the status now, doctor?"
The doctor sighed, running a hand over his face. "We performed an emergency surgical intervention and successfully evacuated the decomposed fetus. Only Allah’s divine intervention saved her life. She is currently stable, and we are just waiting for her to regain consciousness."
Ammi immediately stood up and ran out to the parking lot, just in time to see Bilal’s car violently squealing out of the hospital gates. She frantically dialed Junaid. The moment he picked up, she screamed, "Drop whatever you are doing at the market right now and tail Bilal! He is driving like a maniac and his mind is completely unhinged!"
Junaid paused before responding, "Ammi, where on earth am I supposed to find Bilal right now?"
In a fierce, terrifying roar, she threatened, "Brilliant! Keep arguing with me, Junaid! I swear to Allah, if anything happens to Bilal today, you will face a wrath you cannot comprehend!"
Meanwhile, Bilal was driving with an insane, suicidal velocity, tearing through the city streets as if trying to outrun reality itself. A dark, absolute resolution settled into his mind: Even if I am destined to rot in a maximum-security prison for the rest of my natural life, blood will flow today. Either Zameer kills me, or I, Bilal, will beat Zameer to death with my bare hands. And the law can do whatever it wants with my corpse.

📄 Page 2

A lone, burning tear escaped Bilal's eye, tracing down his scarred cheek—an absolute confirmation of the profound agony consuming his soul, despite his lifelong habit of burying his emotions deep within his chest. Nothing shattered his sanity more than the phrase “frying traditional bean cakes.” Ridayya had traded her elite legacy for a man who reduced her to poverty.
SCREECH—CRASH!
The violent, metal-on-metal screech of tires echoed through the air as another vehicle abruptly cut across the asphalt, deliberately swerving to block Bilal’s path and force his car to a grinding halt. Infuriated, Bilal threw his door open, ready to unleash the absolute, demonic rage that had been boiling in his chest. However, the moment his eyes locked onto the driver of the blocking vehicle, his voice died in his throat.
"Bilal!" Junaid yelled out loud, his face a picture of absolute horror and bewilderment. Seeing Bilal standing in the middle of a major intersection, it was clear that his mind had completely fractured.
Junaid leaned out of his car window, shouting, "Bilal! Bilal!"
Shocked back into reality, Bilal slammed his foot onto the brake pedal, gasping heavily. "Subhanallah," he choked out with immense difficulty. He recognized Junaid’s voice instantly, but its sudden arrival deeply irritated him. He despised any form of intrusion into his private matters. Forcing a cold, rigid mask of composure over his face, he deliberately avoided looking at Junaid.
"Bilal, I am talking to you and you're completely ignoring me like I'm trash?!" Junaid yelled, stepping out of his car.
"Junaid, I will absolutely destroy you! I swear to Allah, if you utter another single word or even breathe my name, I will end you right here!" Bilal snarled.
Realizing that Bilal had resorted to direct profanity, Junaid knew the situation was extremely dangerous. In a gentle, de-escalating tone, he said, "You are the elder here, so I will overlook the insults. Just calm down, park your car, and let’s talk." Junaid scanned Bilal’s disheveled appearance with deep concern.
Bilal remained dead silent. If it weren't for the heavy traffic gridlock trapping his vehicle, he would have already disappeared into the night.
"Don't tell me you're losing your mind like this because of Ridayya," Junaid muttered, completely stunned. "I never expected this level of emotional instability from a man like you. Over Ridayya? Wow."
The traffic light finally shifted to green. Bilal slammed his foot onto the accelerator, his engine roaring as he bypassed Junaid’s car. Junaid quickly jumped back into his vehicle and pursued him at full speed. Realizing that Junaid had no intention of abandoning the chase, Bilal angrily shifted gears and steered the car directly back toward the family estate.
The moment his car screeched to a halt inside the family compound, Bilal threw his door open and stormed out. Junaid parked right behind him, sprinting to catch up while yelling, "For Allah's sake, listen to me! Ammi personally sent me! You are completely unreadable right now, and no one knows what kind of dangerous, fatal decision you're about to make!"
Bilal stopped dead in his tracks, turning around to glare at Junaid with eyes flashing with pure hatred. His heart throbbed violently; he absolutely loathed hearing anyone utter Ridayya's name.
In a low, menacing voice, Bilal warned, "Junaid, did you give birth to me? Do you feed me? No. So, before I physically shatter your jaw right now, get out of my face!"
Without waiting for a reply, Bilal turned and marched directly toward Baba Karami’s private wing of the estate, while Junaid, heavily shaken, walked toward Ammi’s residence, his mind weighed down by the horrific tragedy destroying Ridayya’s life.
Earlier that morning, immediately after returning from the dawn prayers, Zameer had dressed immaculately in a soft, premium fabric outfit. His striking physical features and effortless elegance naturally commanded attention—the exact brand of devastating good looks that continuously dissolved Ridayya's resolve and kept her hopelessly trapped in his orbit. He possessed a quiet, dangerous charisma, his handsome face perpetually fixed in a calm, unreadable expression.
As he adjusted the heavy metal cufflinks of his shirt, Khairy stared at him intensely from the bed before murmuring lazily, "Meer, are you going out already?"
Her seductive, low tone immediately triggered a response within Zameer. No matter how hard he fought his own desires to avoid looking at her, his willpower completely failed him. His base impulses overthrew his rational mind. Clutching his head for a brief second, he found his eyes locked onto her exceptionally beautiful, porcelain-white face—the exact shade of fair skin he had always lusted after.
"You are actively destroying me, Khairy," Zameer rasped, his breathing turning shallow and erratic as he quickly turned his back to her. "Do not force me to commit an act that I am not prepared for."
Khairy rolled her eyes provocatively. "If you leave right now, what am I supposed to eat for breakfast?"
In a sharp, clipped tone, he snapped, "What happened to the entire crate of Indomie noodles I bought for you?"
She pouted, "There are only two packs left. And the eggs are finished too."
Narrowing his eyes dangerously, Zameer mentally swore an absolute oath that no matter how hard his heart pounded, he would not turn back around to look at her. "Are two packs of Indomie not enough for you, Khairy? Is it truly not enough?!"
Khairy sharply bolted out of bed, standing before him dressed in nothing but her skimpy, revealing sleepwear.
"I am not going to hide from your wife anymore, Meer!" she challenged defiantly. "I want your wife to know exactly who I am and the true nature of my presence in this house! You and I both know that across your entire family tree, there is not a single living relative named Khairiyya!"
Zameer shook his head slowly, a dark smile playing on his lips. "You might know my family tree, Khairy, but Ridayya is completely oblivious to it."
Seeing him step toward the doorway, Khairy aggressively cut him off, blocking his exit. "Stop using your wife as an excuse to avoid me! I am completely sick and tired of waking up every morning with my heart pounding in fear of what she might do to me! You need to make a definitive choice right now!"
Zameer leaned down, his eyes locking onto hers with a dangerous intensity. "You've lost your mind, Khairy. You're demanding a choice from me? Do not push me to unleash a madness that will destroy everyone involved."
With that final warning, he pushed past her and exited the room, ensuring she had everything she needed. As he stepped into the central courtyard, he didn't even cast a single glance toward Ridayya’s bedroom door. He felt a mild wave of surprise that she hadn't come out to perform her usual morning chores, but he couldn't care less about her absence or her health. Exuding a heavy trail of expensive designer cologne, he marched out of the compound, just like any other day.
Upon leaving the estate, Zameer walked over to a nearby Point of Sale (P.O.S.) kiosk and callously drained the remaining balance from the bank account he had linked to Ridayya's phone. Armed with the stolen cash, he walked over to a local tea vendor, ordering a breakfast of hot tea, bread, and fried eggs. Although he despised street food, he felt he had no choice—this was the baseline reality he had selected for himself.
Suddenly, his phone began vibrating loudly, displaying Ridayya’s contact name. He let out a sharp, irritated hiss, completely ignoring the call. He sat there calmly watching her call five times back-to-back until the screen finally went dark. Standing up, he walked directly toward an underground gambling den where a large crowd of corrupt men were already waiting for him.
"Zameer, do you honestly think you can win the two-million-naira jackpot looking like that?" a gambler mocked. "You have absolutely no luck when it comes to cards."
Zameer narrowed his eyes but remained dead silent, calmly watching the dealer distribute the cards to initiate the high-stakes game.
"Gaza, leave him alone," a gambler named AY laughed uproariously. "He’s just playing with us until I completely drain whatever wealth his wife has left!"
"Even if he loses the two million today, he'll just go back and steal more gold from her like he did in the past," Gaza chimed in.
In a sudden, terrifying roar, Zameer slammed his hand onto the table, his voice shaking with pure violence: "Shut your mouths! I will permanently unleash a madness on the next person who utters another word about my wife, even if it's a joke!"
AY quickly raised his hands to de-escalate. "Fine, the topic is dropped. I'm putting down fifty thousand naira for this round."
"I'm putting down fifty thousand as well," Gaza added.
Zameer remained silent for a moment. "What about you, Meer? What are you staking?" Gaza asked.
Zameer reached into his pocket and placed a shimmering object onto the felt table. "A solid gold earring."
"Gold?! Where on earth did you get a solid gold earring from?!" AY gasped in absolute shock.
Zameer didn't offer a single word of explanation. His entire focus was locked onto winning the round and walking away with at least two hundred thousand naira in cash. However, within a matter of minutes, his luck completely dried up, and his opponents systematically wiped him out. Before anyone could utter a word of mockery, Zameer coldly pushed the solid gold earring across the table, stood up, and prepared to leave.
Just as he turned around, a neighborhood acquaintance named Usman rushed into the den, looking at Zameer with a face full of sheer panic and bewilderment.
"Zameer! Thank goodness you're here!" Usman gasped. "How is your patient doing?!"
Zameer widened his eyes, a blank look of complete confusion washing over his face...

📦 Plot Summary & Core Context

• The Tragic Suicide Attempt: Ridayya, a heavily pregnant young woman, drinks a lethal dose of Fiya-Fiya (chemical pesticide/poison) inside her bedroom. The catalyst for her suicide is a severe emotional trauma caused by discovering her husband Zameer's infidelity. Ridayya loses consciousness and her unborn baby stops moving as chemical foam oozes from her mouth.
• The Incestuous Lie Discovered: Zameer has been living an illicit double life inside the matrimonial home, bringing his mistress, Khairiyya, into his bedroom under the false pretense that she is his biological younger sister. A neighbor, Zainaba, enters the house to check on Ridayya and catches Khairiyya dressed provocatively in Zameer's room. Under intense pressure, Khairiyya confesses that the sisterhood is a complete fabrication.
• Bilal’s Primal Rage: Zainaba uses Ridayya’s phone to contact her biological family. Ridayya’s older brother, Bilal, storms the house, discovers his dying sister, and rushes her to the hospital. Bilal is a man of severe emotional restraint, but discovering Ridayya's state drives him into a state of homicidal rage against Zameer.
• The Medical Horror: At the hospital, the consulting surgeon delivers a devastating diagnosis: due to prolonged starvation, physical abuse, and severe marital trauma (sexual violence), the unborn fetus had completely decomposed inside Ridayya's womb. Although they successfully surgically remove the deceased fetus, the doctor condemns Zameer (mistaking Bilal for the husband) as a monster.

• The Modern-Day Parasite: Zameer is depicted as a classic sociopathic parasite. While his wife is miscarrying and dying from poison at home, he callously drains her bank account via a P.O.S. terminal, leaves her calls unanswered, and uses her stolen solid gold earrings as collateral to gamble at an underground den. The segment ends with a neighbor informing him of the emergency.

  👥 Updated Character Profiles

• Ridayya: A deeply tragic, long-suffering pregnant woman who abandoned her wealthy, elite family legacy out of an absolute, blind romantic devotion to her husband, Zameer. Her extreme patience leads to her own undoing, culminating in starvation, marital abuse, and a desperate suicide attempt.
• Zameer (Meer): The primary antagonist. An exceptionally handsome, charismatic, and cold-blooded sociopath. He manipulates Ridayya’s intense love for him to exploit her financially, forces her to live alongside his mistress under a fake identity, and spends his days gambling away her stolen jewelry.
• Bilal: Ridayya's older brother. A tall, imposing, and disciplined man who speaks in a deep, rhythmic bass voice resembling an Algaita flute. He possesses deep, repressed feelings of protective fury and a borderline taboo attachment to his sister's safety. He resolves to beat Zameer to death, completely indifferent to the legal consequences.
• Khairiyya (Khairy): Zameer's fair-skinned mistress. She actively participated in a highly perverse deception, living inside Ridayya's matrimonial home under the false guise of a sister-in-law. Though manipulative, she is ultimately a coward, breaking down into frantic tears when her cover is blown by Zainaba.

• Zainaba: A sharp-witted, morally grounded neighbor who serves as the catalyst for exposing the dark secrets within the household, directly confronting Khairiyya and securing the crime scene.

  📊 Thematic & Literary Analysis

  1. The Perversion of the Domestic Sanctuary

  The narrative explores the complete subversion of the traditional Hausa/Islamic matrimonial home (Gidan Sunna). Instead of serving as a sacred sanctuary of peace and honor, the home is transformed into a site of psychological horror. The introduction of a mistress under the sacred title of a biological sister (Ƙanwar Miji) represents a profound moral and cultural transgression, weaponizing Ridayya’s respect for family structures against her.

  2. Somatic Decomposition as a Metaphor for Betrayal

  The medical revelation that the fetus had literally decomposed inside Ridayya's womb acts as a powerful visceral metaphor for the decay of her marriage. The rotting of the unborn life mirrors the absolute rot of Zameer's character and the slow, agonizing starvation of Ridayya’s dignity. Her body literally acts out the hidden death of her marital sanctity.

  3. The Flute of Fate (Algaita)

  The author utilizes the Algaita (a traditional reed flute known for its piercing, highly resonant sound) as a recurring auditory motif for masculine authority and emotional weight. Both Zameer's seductive words and Bilal's deep, commanding voice are compared to the Algaita. This creates a stark juxtaposition between the two primary male forces: one uses his flute-like charm to deceive and destroy, while the other uses his quiet, steady resonance to protect and avenge.