NEEHAL BOOK COMPELET BY ZEEY KUMURYA 

Chapter 2

In the parking space of their house, his driver—who was also a soldier like him—parked the magnificent car they were traveling in. The driver quickly stepped out, walked around to his side, and opened the car door for him. He stepped back slightly and gave him a formal military salute. Slowly, he swung his long, well-shaped right leg out, followed three seconds later by his left leg, and stepped out entirely. His face was devoid of any warmth, as always. He simply nodded at the driver and began to walk with a majestic, authoritative stride. He headed straight for his mother’s section of the house. Wherever he passed, the soldiers moving about the courtyard saluted him; his father, after all, was also a military GENERAL. He merely raised his hand in acknowledgement.
With a low, quiet greeting, he entered the main parlor of Mama’s section. Mama and her mother, Hajiya, who were sitting in the parlor, answered his greeting while watching him. Hajiya, beaming with a wide smile, said, "Aminullahi! Welcome. I guess we were fated to meet, as I was supposed to leave today, but your Baffa told me to wait until Monday so we could travel together." Unbending his expression only slightly, he said to her, "Alright. Good afternoon." With her eyes fixed on him, she asked, "Very well, how is work?" Without answering her, he sat down on the sofa facing theirs and looked at his mother, whom he shared a striking resemblance with, as if they were split from the same stalk. He said, "Good afternoon, Mama," concluding his words by holding his head and biting his lower lip, as though even speaking was an agonizing effort.
Mama, who had been staring intensely at him, noticed how much weight he had lost and said, "Very well. Why did you only just arrive today? I was about to call and ask if you weren't coming at all this week. Even Dad was asking about you before he went out." He simply nodded and leaned his head back against the sofa, closing his piercing eyes. Hajiya, staring at him open-mouthed, remarked, "Aminullah, did you fall sick over there in Lagos? I see you have completely shriveled up and lost weight, looking like someone living among a coven of witches." He remained silent, completely ignoring her as if she weren't speaking to him.
Somewhat angrily, Hajiya snapped, "My problem with you is this wretched, extreme aloofness of yours! People speak to you, and you just give them the cold shoulder." Again, he met her words with silence. Mama shrugged and returned her gaze to the phone in her hand. Hajiya looked at her and said, "And you, Fatima, what kind of mother are you? You see your child return home looking like this, shouldn't you ask him what happened to make him lose so much weight?" Mama raised her head, looked at Hajiya, and replied, "But Hajiya, you know his nature. Even if I spend the whole night asking him what is wrong, if he doesn't want to, he won't tell me. Look at you—you just asked him, and he kept quiet." Angrily, Hajiya said, "So you just indulge him? You shouldn't do it just for his sake!" Mama replied, "Hmmm, Hajiya, Ameen is no longer a child; he knows what is good for him." Hajiya countered, "Suit yourself, but honestly, this is just a lack of care. To see a child looking like this and display total nonchalance... Since he disrespects me, he wouldn't answer me anyway, but since you are the one who gave birth to him, he is obligated to tell you." Mama went silent and minded her business, while Hajiya continued her grumbling and scolding.
A beautiful young woman was coming down the stairs into the parlor. She was dressed in dark blue skinny jeans that fit her tightly, paired with a pink t-shirt. She wore no headscarf, her hair simply tied back with a ribbon. She held a phone, typing away with earphones plugged into her ears. Hearing her footsteps, Mama looked up with a stern face and said, "Don't you dare come near me dressed like that."
NEEHAL looked up from her phone, glanced at Mama, turned around, and went back up to where she came from, pouting. Hajiya scoffed and said, "Oh me, Zainabu! May Allah let me see the day this girl gains some sense and realizes she is grown up." Neehal returned to her room, making a face. She picked up an after-dress (abaya), threw it over her t-shirt and jeans, put a cap on her head, and came back down to the parlor. Hajiya said, "Now, don't you look much better? Earlier, you came out looking like a pagan girl."
Neehal pouted and, as she tried to sit next to Mama, she noticed Ameen sitting exactly as he had been. Her large eyes widened in excitement at seeing him, and she exclaimed, "Yaya, when did you arrive?" Ameen, who had opened his eyes and been watching her out of the corner of his eye since she entered the parlor, said nothing. Neehal moved closer and sat next to him. Actually, she had caught his scent the moment she entered the parlor but hadn't noticed him because of Hajiya’s nagging. Gathering all her composure because she knew his temperament, she said, "Yaya, good afternoon." He did not answer her; he simply closed his eyes again. Neehal frowned, got up from his side, and went back to sit next to Mama.
Hajiya interjected, "This wicked disposition of yours, Aminu, may Allah change it quickly. The girl came to you so happily to speak to you, but you ignored her, all because of your malicious attitude." Mama looked at Neehal, who was leaning against her, and said, "Well, cat, did you just wake up from sleep?" Neehal replied, "Um." Mama asked, "What time are you going to work?" Neehal said, "Around 4." Mama said, "Then get up and go to the kitchen for lunch, look, it's almost 2." Neehal pouted deeply as she pulled away from Mama and muttered, "Okay."
In her life, Neehal absolutely detested chores, and she hated cooking most of all. Yet, whenever she was at home, she had to do it. Mama didn't cook, and the domestic workers only handled dishwashing, sweeping, and light assistance; whether Neehal was at school or work, Mama usually cooked for herself. Neehal stood up, looked at Mama, and asked, "What should I cook?" Mama replied, "Make something quick so you aren't late for work. There are some fried ingredients I prepared earlier, just make a sauce and boil something simple to eat with it." Neehal said, "Okay," and headed toward the kitchen. Hajiya called out, "Hurry up, for God's sake, before hunger kills us!" Neehal ignored her and entered the kitchen. Mama stood up, looked at Ameen, and said, "Meet me in my room." Without waiting for his reply, she headed up the stairs. Slowly, he stood up and followed her. Hajiya watched him go, looking so pitiful she seemed on the verge of tears, and said, "Aminu, may Allah grant you health. When the General returns, something must truly be done about this, since his own mother has become so useless."
Mama looked at Ameen, who was sitting beside her on the edge of the bed. With a serious expression, she asked, "Ameen, what is wrong with you?" He remained silent, bowing his head. Frustrated by his silence, Mama spoke again, "Ameen, I am talking to you! Can't you hear me? You know I detest this insolence of yours—someone speaks to you, you hear them, and you give them the cold shoulder." Hearing Mama speak so angrily forced him to look up. In his melodious, calm voice, he said, "It is nothing, Mum." He finished speaking while biting his pink lower lip, closing his eyes again and releasing a slow breath.
Mama stared at him with a mixture of frustration and astonishment at his secretive nature. He had been like this since childhood; his aloofness and habit of keeping secrets were excessive. Mama sighed, trying to suppress her own anxiety. In a soft, soothing tone meant for reassurance, she spoke again, "Al-Ameen!" She called his name somewhat firmly. Without waiting for his response, she continued, "Ameen, I am your mother. In the whole world, you have no one closer to you than me, just as I have no one closer than you all. I absolutely do not like seeing you in distress. For two years now, if I am not mistaken, I always see you looking troubled. Tell me what your burden is, so that my mind can be at peace too."
Opening his heavy eyes, he fixed them on Mama's face as she watched him. Moving closer to her, he took her hands, his heart filled with pity for her, and said, "It really is nothing, Mum. There is nothing troubling me. If there is anything at all, I only need your prayers." Mama could only stare at him. Despite how gaunt and shriveled he looked, he insisted nothing was wrong. She sighed heavily, knowing that since he had spoken this way, he would never tell her what was bothering him, no matter what she did. Just as he said, she would simply continue to pray for him. Seeing how she was looking at him, he said, "Please be patient, Ummunah (my mother). I don't want you to worry. I am telling you the truth, nothing is wrong with me, please believe me." Mama breathed out and said, "Alright, may Allah grant us success." Beneath his breath, he replied, "Amen," and let go of his mother’s hands.
Mama faced him again and said, "Now, regarding the matter we discussed the other day—I am tired of you playing with my mind, Ameen. I told you to find a woman to marry, and you refused." Frowning, he said, "I still haven't found someone who suits me." Mama gave him a look and said, "What about Hamida, who has been waiting for you for nearly ten years? Even if it's not Hamida, it's not like you lack women who want you. Therefore, I don't want any nonsense. This is the last time I will speak to you about finding a wife. I will give you a grace period until after Neehal’s wedding. If you don't choose a wife yourself, I will choose one for you. If I had my way, your wedding would have been held alongside Neehal’s." He merely nodded, stood up, and left the room, as he completely detested the marriage discussions Mama constantly brought up. Mama watched him leave with a heavy heart.
Upon entering the kitchen, Neehal fetched a pot, rinsed it, poured water, lit the gas stove, and set it down. Her phone, which was on the kitchen counter, began to ring. She picked it up quickly and saw the name HEART CRUSH flashing on the screen. She answered with a smile, saying, "Hello." From the other end, Haneefah said, "Hello to you too. Out of sheer wickedness, I've been calling you since, and you couldn't even return my calls."
Neehal smiled warmly and said, "Sorry, my Besty. I was asleep when you called. I hadn't been awake long when Mama sent me to the kitchen to cook. I wanted to lighten my workload, which is why I called you and MY HUSBAND." Haneefah scoffed and said, "Oh, look at Mrs. Husband! We are about to deliver you to his house anyway, so everyone can finally rest from your impudence." Neehal giggled softly and said, "I hear you. How are you, and how is Mommy?" Haneefah replied, "Mommy is fine, and so am I. How are Mama, Hajiya, and that husband of yours?" Neehal said, "They are all perfectly fine." Haneefah said, "Masha Allah. I actually called to find out if you were back from school." Neehal said, "I've been back since 12." Haneefah asked, "That early?" Neehal said, "Did you forget today is Saturday? I only had one lecture from 10 to 12." Haneefah said, "That's true, I forgot." Neehal asked, "When are you coming out?" Haneefah replied, "I've just finished getting ready, which is why I called you again." Neehal said, "Then come over! You can help me finish cooking, and then we can just leave." Haneefah countered, "Come help you cook, or should you say come finish the cooking for you?" Neehal said, "Whichever it is, just hurry up and come." Haneefah said, "Alright, Mommy, I'm on my way." Neehal laughed and said, "See you when you arrive."
She ended the call and dialed the number of her lover and husband-to-be in two months, God willing—ANWAR. She called him, but there was no answer. She put the phone down without calling back, knowing he must be busy with something that prevented him from picking up. She returned to her chores.
After 15 minutes, Haneefah arrived at the house. Mama was still upstairs. Only Hajiya was downstairs, lying on the sofa, fast asleep. As for Ameen, he had gone to his own section of the house after leaving Mama’s room. Haneefah headed straight to the kitchen after dropping her handbag and veil on a sofa. Neehal was slicing cabbage to make coleslaw when Haneefah offered her greetings at the kitchen door. Neehal quickly set down what was in her hand and turned around, thrilled to see her best friend. Haneefah, equally happy, walked up to her. They embraced, with Neehal saying, "Welcome, dear." Haneefah released her, saying, "Thank you." Neehal added, "I didn't hear from you or get bothered by you all day today, I missed you." Haneefah said, "Me too, darling. Where is Mama?" Neehal replied, "She's upstairs, maybe." Haneefah noted, "I saw our old lady deep in sleep out there." Neehal laughed, "Troublesome Hajiya! She’s leaving soon anyway, so we can get some peace from her endless talking. Right, dear, please help me finish this cooking so I can go get dressed and we won't be late." Haneefah glared at Neehal and said, "It's not about getting dressed; just admit you are tired of the chores." Neehal pouted and said, "It's like you read my mind." Haneefah remarked, "Hmm, girl, you better endure and learn to cook happily, because once you are taken to your husband's house, you will have no choice but to do it." Neehal said nothing and walked out of the kitchen.

Chapter 3

As she stepped into the parlor, she caught the intoxicating scent of Ameen’s perfume, which still lingered in the room. She remembered that he had returned. Glancing toward the top of the stairs, she turned around like someone with a guilty conscience. Walking and looking over her shoulder, she quietly opened the parlor door, stepped outside, and headed toward her brother’s section, which was adjacent to theirs...
Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes, inhaling the sweet fragrance that saturated the parlor. She exhaled, opened her eyes slowly, and tried to gather her composure as she walked forward with her head bowed. She offered a greeting in her slender voice, pouting as if she were strictly angry with him. Without looking up, he answered her greeting from the depths of his throat. Just as she passed him to head up the stairs, he called out, "Miemah!"
She stopped and turned around but did not approach him. Actively pretending as if he wasn't the one who called her, he casually busied himself with his phone. Knowing his ways, she walked over to him, sat on the carpet by his sofa, and said, "I'm here, Yayah." He ignored her for nearly two minutes, as if he had forgotten she was there. Then, he looked up, casting a sharp glance at her. In his smooth, pleasant voice, he asked, "How many times have I forbidden you from dousing yourself in perfume whenever you are going out?" She pouted and said, "I only applied a little." He countered, "So I am lying to you?" She shook her head to say no.
He returned his attention to his phone. Neehal wanted to head upstairs but was too afraid to do so without his permission. He continued his business as if she weren't there, fully aware that she was waiting for his order. The other phone lying beside him rang, indicating an incoming call. He checked it, and seeing Dad's name flashing on the screen, he answered quickly. Dad asked, "Muhammad, are you back from the mosque?" Ameen replied, "Yes." Dad asked, "Is Daughter back?" He said, "Yes." Dad said, "Ok, I want to see you right now in my section." Ameen said, "I am on my way now." He hung up, stood up, and headed toward Daddy's section through the connecting door inside Mama’s parlor. Neehal stood up quickly, as if she had been sitting on pins and needles, and rushed upstairs.
She peeked into Hajiya’s room. Hajiya, who was sitting on her prayer mat reciting supplications, looked up at Neehal and asked, "Oh, you're back?" Neehal said, "Can't you see me right here?" Hajiya said, "Well, welcome back. Where is that troublesome friend of yours?" Neehal replied, "She went home. Is Mama not back?" Hajiya said, "She left just after Maghrib. I tried and tried to get her to skip going to the hospital tonight so she could rest, but she refused. It’s like she received a divine revelation; she just took off into the night. Well, it's a work of charity since she's visiting the sick." Neehal said nothing, turned around, and went to her room. Dropping her bag, she headed to the kitchen. She grabbed some cake and meatpies because she felt ravenously hungry. After picking up a drink from the parlor, she went back to her room. She ate until she was stuffed, then stood up, went into the bathroom, and performed ablution for Ishai prayers.
From the moment Ameen walked in, Dad watched him, astonished by his severe weight loss. Although Mama had explained it over the phone, he hadn't expected it to be this drastic. Ameen sat on the floor by Abba's sofa, bowing his head. Dad paused and asked, "Muhammad, did you fall sick over at the barracks without telling us?" Ameen said, "No, Daddy." Dad asked, "Then what is the cause of this weight loss?" Rubbing his soft hair and licking his lower lip, he replied respectfully, "Dad, it's just the nature of the work." Dad fell silent, looking at him, completely unconvinced. Knowing his character—that even if he spent the entire night questioning him, he wouldn't reveal what was wrong—Dad let it drop. However, he knew without a doubt that something was bothering his son.
Sighing, Dad said, "Alright, Captain. May Allah help you and grant you success." Ameen replied, "Amen." Dad adjusted his posture and said, "Earlier before I went out, I spoke with the Doctor regarding Daughter’s wedding preparations. Since the wedding is close, we need to know what steps to take and begin preparations." Ameen said, "That's true. May Allah bring us to the time in good health, bless them, and grant them a peaceful marriage." Dad added, "Amen, O Allah. She also spoke to me about you. By now, you should have produced a woman to marry. Our wish was to combine your wedding with Daughter's." Ameen raised his head quickly to look at his father but said nothing. Dad remarked, "You're quiet, Captain." Ameen sighed and said, "Dad, please give me a little more time. After her wedding, by God's grace, I will present a wife too." Dad replied, "Very well. May Allah spare our lives in good health, unite you all with good spouses, and bless you." Ameen said, "Amen, O Allah." They then pivoted to a different conversation regarding their military duties.
While praying, Neehal could hear her phone ringing continuously. It was only after she concluded her prayers with the final supplications that she picked up the phones from her bag.
The phone containing her personal SIM card was the one ringing; she saw missed calls from Mama and her lover. She called Mama back first. It rang once, and Mama answered. Neehal said, "Hello, Mama." Mama chided, "So, Neehal, you still haven't learned to say an Islamic greeting when you call, right?" Neehal apologized, "Sorry, my Mama." Mama said, "Keep your sorry to yourself. Are you back home?" Neehal said, "Yes, since." Mama asked, "What about Dad?" Neehal said, "I saw his car in the parking space too, but I haven't been to his section yet, I stopped to pray." Mama said, "Ok. You ate some food, right? Because I know your habit of staying hungry." Neehal said, "I ate some snacks." Mama said, "That's all you ever do. Where is Hajiya?" Neehal said, "She's in her room. When are you coming back, Mama?" Mama said, "Around 10. I only called to ensure you were back. I am about to do something now, take care." Neehal said, "Alright Mama, see you when you return," and hung up.
She then dialed Anwar’s number. It rang nearly to the end before he picked up. Neehal said, "May the peace of Allah be upon the joy of my heart. I hope your day went well. My head is on the chopping block; I know the Queen committed an offense today." Anwar closed his eyes, reveling in her sweet words and the deep joy of hearing her voice. He replied, "And upon you, the star that illuminates the city of my heart. But indeed, today the Queen committed a major offense against me." Neehal widened her beautiful eyes, smiling happily at the romantic exchange with her lover. She said, "Oh, my Habibi, please forgive me, God willing, the Queen won't do it again."
The pampered, affectionate tone she used sent a thrill through Anwar. Exhaling softly, he said, "Alright, my Queen surpasses everything in my sight. But today, you starved me of your voice, which made me lose my peace completely." Neehal replied, "I am so sorry, my husband. The first missed call you left was when I was sleeping. When I woke up and called, you didn't pick up. Then I went to work and returned, and you didn't call until now." Anwar said, "The champion of sleep! Well, how are you?" Neehal said, "Alhamdulillah, except for your longing which has filled my heart and body." Anwar said, "Missed you too, my love. How are my Mama, my Yaya, and our Dad?" Neehal said, "They are all perfectly fine. How is my Ammi?" Anwar said, "Masha Allah, Ammi is doing great." Neehal said, "Please give her my regards, and the rest of the household." Anwar said, "They will receive them, God willing. When am I coming to see you? I've missed that beautiful face of yours." Neehal said, "Tomorrow, of course." Anwar said, "May Allah spare us until then, my bride." They continued their lighthearted, joyful lover's chat. It didn't last too long before they said their goodbyes, as Neehal mentioned she was heading to Dad’s section.
With a greeting, she entered Dad’s parlor. Dad was sitting on the sofa reading a newspaper; by this time, Ameen had already left. Dad looked up and answered Neehal's greeting with a warm smile. Tweaking her own face into a smile, Neehal walked into the room, saying, "My Dad, I missed you so much today!" Dad replied, "Me too, my daughter. How was work?" Neehal said, "Alhamdulillah," as she sat down beside him. Dad noted, "Earlier after I left our meeting, I turned on the TV hoping to see my daughter, since you were on the evening news." Neehal smiled. Dad said, "I was just about to call you to ask you to prepare some fruits for me." Neehal stood up, saying, "Let me go fix them for you then." Dad said, "Wonderful, my blessed daughter." It wasn't long before Neehal returned carrying a bowl filled with freshly sliced fruits, which she set down on the coffee table in front of Dad.

2. Story Analysis & Analytics

Character Profiles

• Al-Ameen (Captain/Muhammad): A military captain who mirrors his father's high military status. He is characterized by an extreme, almost pathological aloofness (miskilanci) and deep secrecy (zurfin ciki). He is suffering from a mysterious, severe emotional or physical distress that has lasted for two years, causing drastic weight loss (rama). He actively avoids the topic of marriage.
• Neehal (Daughter/Miemah): Al-Ameen’s younger sister. She is a beautiful, pampered young woman who works as a television broadcast presenter (likely a news anchor, as noted by her father watching her on the evening news) while balancing university studies. She hates household chores, acts childishly/spoiled (shagwaba), and is set to marry her fiancé, Anwar, in two months.
• Mama (Fatima): The matriarch. She is a working professional (likely a medical doctor or hospital administrator, given her night shifts visiting patients). She loves her children but has grown weary of Al-Ameen's uncommunicative behavior, choosing to respect his boundaries while enforcing parental ultimata regarding marriage.
• Hajiya (Zainabu): The maternal grandmother. She represents traditional elder dynamics—vocal, opinionated, easily agitated by modern behavior (like Neehal wearing jeans without a headscarf), yet deeply affectionate and deeply worried about her grandson's health.
• Dad (The General/Abba): A high-ranking military officer. He is patriarchal yet gentle, sharing a warm relationship with his daughter Neehal and maintaining a professional, respectful boundary with his son, Captain Ameen.

• Anwar & Haneefah: Supporting characters representing the external romantic and social circles of Neehal. Anwar is her doting fiancé; Haneefah is her realistic, helpful best friend.

  Themes & Motifs

• The Burden of Silence (Zurfin Ciki): A dominant theme. Ameen’s silence acts as an emotional armor and a source of conflict. His physical deterioration stands as a visual manifestation of unexpressed trauma or stress.
• Generational and Gender Dynamics: The contrast between Hajiya’s traditional demands (modesty, vocalizing respect) and Neehal's modern lifestyle (skinny jeans, balancing career/school, relying on domestic staff).

• The "Spoiled" vs. "Stressed" Dichotomy: The narrative heavily contrasts Neehal’s lighthearted, coddled lifestyle with Ameen’s heavy, rigid, and troubled military reality.

  Narrative Analytics & Style

• Structure: The text uses a non-linear chronological jump (indicated by the author's note moving from section 02 to 03), shifting from afternoon chores to evening routines.
• Pacing: Slow and dialogue-driven, emphasizing the friction caused by Al-Ameen's silence.

• Tone: Domestically realistic with a touch of Northern Nigerian elite societal flavor (Hausa cultural settings involving military generals, abayas, domestic workers, arranged/extended family expectations).

  3. Summary of the Original Story

  The story introduces Al-Ameen, a cold, highly disciplined military captain who returns to his wealthy family's home (his father being a General). Ameen is visibly gaunt and uncommunicative, alarming his grandmother, Hajiya, and his mother, Mama. Despite their confrontation, Ameen refuses to reveal what has been troubling him for the past two years. Mama gives him an ultimatum: he must choose a wife after his sister's upcoming wedding, or she will choose one for him.
  Meanwhile, his younger sister, Neehal, a university student and TV presenter, returns home. She is pampered and hates cooking, but is forced to prepare lunch before heading to work at 4:00 PM. Her best friend, Haneefah, arrives to assist her. Neehal is blissfully in love with her fiancé, Anwar, with whom she is scheduled to marry in two months.
  Later that evening, after returning from work and performing her prayers, Neehal interacts with her doting father (Dad), who proudly watches her on the evening news. Concurrently, Dad confronts Ameen about his alarming weight loss and reminds him of the family's desire for him to marry. Ameen requests a grace period until after Neehal’s wedding to find a spouse. The excerpt ends with a warm domestic scene of Neehal serving fresh fruits to her father in his parlor.