1: Confrontation and Nafisa’s Scandal

"Just know that the truthful person is always with Allah. Therefore, I want you to get up and go do your work just as you always do every day." When I looked into his eyes, I saw there was absolutely no playfulness in them, which made me prepare to head outside.

Ummi came out of the bathroom with her ablution water. Seeing him looking at me while I was preparing to leave made her stare at him in surprise and suspicion. Before she could speak, he anticipated her. He told her that he wanted me to do some work for him. She asked him, "Why, where are the rest of the house workers that no one else could be assigned this work except her?" He was about to speak, but she raised her hand slightly, signaling that there was no room for jokes in her words. He had no choice but to leave, leaving me behind in Ummi's room.

Nafisat was with her paternal uncle and Alhaji Zanna, who had arrived from Nigeria. He said, “Honestly, Nafisa, you have surprised us. To think that within Alhaji's lineage, a woman with this kind of behavior could be found! If it weren't for Allah's help in pairing you with a kind, honorable, and sensible young man, if you had done this back home in Nigeria, your family's honor and prestige would have collapsed in the eyes of the public by now. Now, you see, there is no way around it; we must return with you to your parents, just as Hajia Tsohuwa (the matriarch) requested. If there is still any marriage left between you two, you will return later.”

Nafisat burst into a bitter cry, begging for forgiveness and promising she would never do anything similar again, claiming it was the deception of the devil. [The uncle replied,] “You just have to be patient and accept destiny, because you heard with your own ears what the old woman said.”

### Part 2: The Setup, the Flight, and the Hidden Contraband

We were preparing to move to Medina for our studies; all arrangements had been made with the help of our Sheriff, who bought everything we needed for the journey and for our intensive studies. From clothes to everything required by the school, he provided for us. Nothing was left out. Furthermore, he gave us the good news that Umar’s mother would accompany us to handle cooking and housecleaning. Meanwhile, the people from Nigeria were busy packing their things to return home with the terrible news.

Nafisat tried everything to get Sheriff to let her go out, but he stubbornly refused. Seeing that he wouldn't allow her, she insisted that I accompany her. Against my will, I had to get ready, and we went out together. We arrived at a secluded, garbage-filled alley, heavily packed with people just like a slum in Nigeria or any other country. It turned out we had come to Yar Lici’s house. She left me in the car and told me to sit and wait for her.

She headed toward a house near Yar Lici's place. A scrawny young man came out. From afar, I could clearly see everything they were doing. Without a doubt, I saw him hand her something inside a white, factory-printed plastic bag. Skillfully, she slipped the item into her bag and adjusted herself as if nothing had happened.

I waited until we returned home and she stepped out briefly. I went and removed all the drugs/substances. Indeed, as soon as she checked and found nothing where she had hidden them, she completely panicked. Shamelessly, she started shouting that she had been robbed, yet she couldn't bring herself to name exactly what had been stolen from her.

### Part 3: Nafisa’s Remorse and Sheriff’s Coldness

The news I heard about Nafisat’s impending departure deeply troubled me, and in a panic, I rushed over to her quarters. With a greeting, I entered her room. She was lying on the bed, curled up in one spot. One look at her and you would know she was in deep distress. I felt a wave of profound pity for her. Sensing that someone had entered, she adjusted her posture slightly and turned her gaze toward the door.

Slowly, I approached her bedside. For a moment, neither of us said a word. I quickly moved to the edge of the bed near her feet. Instead of speaking, I simply began to weep bitterly. She remained silent for a while, listening to me. After mustering some strength, she finally managed to say, "You heard that I am leaving town, right?" I nodded my head slightly.

She said to me, "Truly, Fadima, you are a young girl who knows what is right in life." She raised herself slightly from her lying position; her eyes were bloodshot, showing she had cried heavily. “Only yesterday did I realize that you truly love me, Fadima, and I realized that everything you do, you do it for the sake of Allah alone. I regret and remorsefully look back at all the torment I inflicted on you in the past. I wish I had embraced you like my own sister because of how well you treated me.”

For a long time, neither of us could say anything. Slowly, I opened my mouth and said, "For Allah's sake, if I have ever offended you, please forgive me." She quickly sat up and said, “Oh no, Fadima! In all my time living with you, I was the one who constantly wronged you due to the deception of Satan and bad friends. Despite everything, you did your best to shield me from shame, Fadima. To prevent my marriage from collapsing, you did everything to fix my home. Even yesterday, I am fully aware that you were the one who took the item Yar Lici gave me. If you hadn't taken it, by Allah, with the way I was feeling yesterday, I would have consumed enough to ensure Abba and the others witnessed firsthand the kind of things I do. You see, even though Ahmad knew what I was doing and the plans we were orchestrating against him, it didn't change his behavior toward me, nor did he let on that he knew everything. It was only yesterday, during Salim's explanation, that I realized you saved my life. If it weren't for you, I don't know what would have become of me in this country where people take the law into their own hands before things get ugly.”

My pity for her intensified, and before I knew it, I was holding her and crying against her body, pleading, "Please don't leave, please be patient and stay with us." She too was weeping heavily out of regret and remorse. We spent some time in that state, with no one comforting the other, until she gathered the strength to ask me to please join her in praying to Allah regarding the life she was living. It was only then I noticed Nafisat was still unwell; she was only acting on pure willpower. What she did deeply surprised me because it felt like a dream—it didn't seem like the Nafisa I knew, to the point of asking for my forgiveness. Truly, this world is a frightening place. If you do not approach life carefully, it will finish you off before you can make sense of it.

While we were in that state, before we knew it, we heard Sheriff’s voice at the doorway. Startled, we both looked back. He was standing there with a stern, hardened face. My heart skipped a beat out of fear. He walked into the room, casting a look of utter disgust at Nafisa. I looked back at him with my eyes swollen from days of crying. He confronted me, saying, "What are you doing in this room with this heartless woman?" Before I could answer his question, I threw my own question back at him: "Our Sheriff, for Allah's sake, be forgiving and accommodating to whoever Allah brings into your life. Please be patient and forgive her. Do not let her leave like this, in this state." He let out a forced, cynical laugh, turned back toward the door he came through, and said, "You should have answered my question first before trying to lecture me on human morality." I followed him quickly because I saw he was preparing to leave the room, but I couldn't catch up to him as he headed outside the house.

I went back to my room to ponder what to do, because honestly, I did not want Nafisat to leave at all. When I entered, Amal was lying on my bed, scrolling through my phone. Seeing me enter, she let out a massive, dramatic hiss. She looked at me, puckered her lips, kept her eyes on the phone, and said, "You know, Fadima, what kind of spineless girl are you? This woman who you are making a fuss over because she's leaving—you know everything about her. Furthermore, out of her sheer hatred for you, she openly threatened to destroy you in front of everyone, and she even tried to frame our brother [Sheriff] and falsely accuse him all because of you! Is this the kind of spinelessness you have, to the point of throwing yourself into a panic over a judgment passed by the elders? What business do you have interfering in the matters of elders?" Hearing her call it "the elders' business" made my body go weak because I knew Amal was telling me nothing but the truth. I walked over to the bed and sat down dejectedly, leaning against the bed frame with my chin resting in one hand. She stared at me with a look of pure bewilderment.

In a gentle voice, I spoke: "Come on, Amal. If people were never forgiven, Allah would have wiped us out just like the ancient peoples, considering the sins and rebellions humanity commits daily." Amal brushed the topic aside, saying, "Fadima, have you even packed your bags for the trip?" Only then did I force a smile and say, "What is there for me to pack, Amal?" She glared at me and said, "Aren't you taking the clothes our brother bought us? Plus, you know we are traveling alongside Aisha and Umar since their mother is coming with us." At that moment, I felt a sense of relief in my heart hearing that Umar and the others were coming along.

### Part 4: The Departure to Medina and the Arrival of Suraj

The next day, we were all at the front door: Nafisa, Abba, a relative representing Nafisa's father, and Hajia Tsohuwa. Nafisa stepped out wearing Indian attire (a tunic and trousers) with a shawl lightly draped over her head. One look at her would break your heart because, if nothing else, she had experienced a dramatic fall from grace. Finding a husband like our Sheriff was no small feat, but one shouldn't entirely lose hope. In my naivety, I assumed everyone present pitied Nafisat. Little did I know, everyone there was secretly happy about her departure because she had exhausted their patience in the house, and they simply had no other choice. Furthermore, Sheriff was not someone to tolerate nonsense; he would have kicked almost everyone out of the house. As our eyes locked, tears of sorrow began to well up in my eyes. Amal noticed this, tapped my shoulder, and told me Hajia Tsohuwa was calling for me. We watched them leave right in front of us, completely helpless to stop it.

As for us, we were fully immersed in preparing for our journey to Medina, where we were to begin a new life. Honestly, Sheriffudeen Ahmad did a magnificent, heroic job for us. I had initially assumed we would be staying in his house attached to their workplace in Medina. It turned out that wasn't the case at all. Out of pure generosity, we were taken to a massive, beautiful mansion purchased right in the center of the city where we would live. The house wasn't very far from our school and the Holy Mosque (Al-Haram). We could easily attend our studies and perform our acts of worship with total ease.

The day before our departure, we were gathered in front of Ummi. She was counseling us the way any experienced mother advises her children. She gave us profound counsel, warning us to guard ourselves against worldly temptations, which have consumed most of society today. Finally, she admonished us to prioritize our prayers and worship above all worldly things, wishing us blessings and urging us to protect one another in trust and mutual understanding. The room fell silent as her advice deeply moved and humbled us.

A young man was slowly stepping down the airplane stairs, wearing a pair of white sunglasses that added to his good looks. Fair-skinned, tall, handsome, and youthful, you could tell he was a man enjoying his prime. His attire alone was enough to tell anyone of his high status. He looked at the city calmly, reflecting that the layout of the city suited him perfectly. He booked a room at the airport hotel to rest and shake off his fatigue before calling his brother, for whom he had made this surprise trip. After resting a bit, he called his brother to inform him that he was now in their country.

To be honest, everyone, from the time I received my admission until today, I hadn't properly thanked our Sheriff. Therefore, today I resolved that I must thank him before we depart tomorrow, by Allah's grace. He was sitting in the living room after finishing his meal—though he doesn't eat much. His attention was focused on watching a polo match on the living room TV. With a greeting, I approached where he sat and greeted him with utmost respect and humility. He turned around slightly, surprised to see me at that hour, but then turned his head back to watch the TV. However, looking at him, I could see he had lost a lot of weight and had grown a bit darker. With my head lowered, I greeted him softly, without even hearing if he replied. I told him I came to thank him for the immense efforts he made for me and my siblings.

Just as I was about to continue speaking, his phone rang. He reached out, picked up the phone, and looked back and forth at the TV. He greeted the caller with a smile. After exchanging pleasantries, I heard him say, "What a surprise you are pulling on me, Suraj! Are you seriously in Saudi Arabia? Why didn't you tell me you were coming so I could arrange a proper reception for you?" As he said this, he stood up, completely ignoring me, and I heard him calling Mustapha to get ready so they could go pick up Suraj, who had just arrived in town. I watched our Sheriff with a gaze full of wonder from where I knelt, wondering who this caller could be. Whoever it was, they were clearly very important to our Sheriff, given how he stood up in pure joy and excitement to go welcome him.

They found him standing exactly where he had described. From the moment Suraj saw the car sent to pick him up, he thought to himself that his mother's words definitely held a scent of truth. Filled with joy, affection, and love, the brothers embraced each other. Ahmad felt a wave of happiness in his heart seeing his brother visit him where he resided. Suraj was utterly stunned when he saw the massive mansion they pulled up to, which belonged to Ahmad. He let out a sharp, hot sigh that almost everyone in the car noticed. He quickly brushed it off, claiming it was just exhaustion from a long journey. They arrived late at night, so by the time they reached the house, I had already gone to bed, as I usually sleep early to wake up for morning chores. A separate wing of the house was designated as his guest quarters. Umar’s mother served them food; she was meticulous with her duties, exceptionally clean, and cooked like a professional restaurant chef.

I packed all my belongings as well as Aisha’s, leaving only a few minor items in our room. In the morning, I set everything up for Sheriff as I usually do, then went to take a shower and get dressed. Today, I wore a pink long dress that suited me beautifully. As I was trying to tie my headscarf, I heard my room's intercom ring, signaling a call from the living room. I rushed out to answer the call of my boss, Sheriffudeen Ahmad. The two of them were sitting at the dining table, about to open the food. It was only after seeing them together that I remembered he had a guest, yet I had only set the table for one person.

I approached politely with a greeting. Sheriff, whose head was lowered, looked up intending to tell me to bring extra plates and spoons. His eyes caught the way I was dressed up today. With a mix of surprise and admiration, he spoke to me in Arabic. He told me he didn't realize I was unaware of his guest, which is why I brought food meant for one person. I replied, "No, honestly, I didn't know, but I ask for your forgiveness." He closed his eyes briefly and said, "No problem, you can go ahead and bring more." As for the guest, hearing a voice that sounded as sweet as a flute made him turn around. He saw a fresh, young teenage girl standing behind him, possessing that melodious voice. Seeing Suraj staring at me, Sheriff told me to just leave it and that they would manage with what was in front of them.

Before I could completely exit, Amal also entered the dining area elegantly dressed. In his heart, Suraj thought, "Wow, how did Ahmad gather such beautiful young women? What on earth are they doing in this house?" Hearing Amal speak in the Kanuri language made him open his mouth in surprise, staring at her, and then he noticed her slight resemblance to Ahmad's mother. "So what about that first one?" he wondered. This thought made him turn around again to look toward the door I had just exited. Sheriff noticed his behavior clearly, which made him change his mind about what to do. He remembered that they were leaving for Medina today anyway, so he dropped those mental observations. They struck up a conversation about old times. When they finished, they went to Ummi’s quarters to greet her. Ummi was overjoyed by the visit from his brother, who had traveled all the way from Europe to this place.

Not long after, Salim instructed everyone to bring out their luggage to load it into the vehicle we would be traveling in. It was a white car being loaded, which appeared to be our transport. Everyone came out ready, and I headed toward our Hajia to say my goodbyes. Allah knows I didn't want to leave her behind, but she was the one who encouraged me to go and pursue my studies, saying it would benefit me in the future.

When Suraj saw us coming out and being escorted, he asked where we were heading. Ahmad gave him a brief answer, saying, "Medina." Suraj asked why we weren't taking a flight. Ahmad told him that planes do not enter the city of Mecca, only the surrounding cities on the outskirts. Suraj threw another question: "Why don't planes come here?" Sheriff smiled slightly and gave a short answer: "The Kaaba." Seeing us preparing to board the car, Sheriff quickly walked over to us. Even though Al-Mustapha had arranged our seating properly, Sheriff insisted that Umar be moved to the front with Salim and Yusuf the driver. Just as the car was about to move and everyone was waving at us, my eyes locked with Sheriff's. I saw his lips moving, saying a word I couldn't decipher. I quickly averted my eyes from his, which caused him to let out a subtle, suppressed smile.

### Part 5: The Journey to Medina

Thus, our car sped onto the highway leading to the city of Medina. It was a long journey ahead of us, as there were no major towns to look at or stop by for a break. There were only sporadic desert nomad settlements in the wilderness—a wilderness devoid of large trees, featuring only moderate hills stretching across the horizon. We had traveled quite a distance from Mecca, and all of our hearts were heavy. I was thinking about our Hajia, though I knew Yumma would take excellent care of her.

I heard Salim's voice saying, "Where on earth did that guy come from to visit us here?" Amal, who was leaning back in the rear seat of the car, adjusting her posture, said, "He came to visit his brother, of course. You know they have to maintain their family ties." Salim remarked, "Personally, I don't trust any of Mama's children, by Allah. They are capable of doing anything to our brother." Listening to them, I finally spoke up, asking, "Is that guy really Sheriff's brother? I did notice they look a bit alike. Though Sheriff seems a bit taller and fairer, right?" Salim replied, "Come on, they don't look alike at all! Our brother took entirely after his maternal uncles, while those ones took after their mother. I guess their body structures look somewhat similar." They kept talking back and forth until th