He didn't mean to bang the door that hard.

Internally, he cringed. That wasn't how he planned on walking out.

That didn't stop him, he walked past the clique of maids walking towards the room he just left with covered trays, not bothering to answer their greetings.

They were used to it. So, was he.

He took 6 minutes to walk from the lodging to the gates. He raised his hands at every greeting thrown his way. It was his way of assuring he was fine, he just needed to be alone.

At least 10 steps away from the postern, the doors opened up for him.

Scandal, he heard. His steps halted. It wasn't a normal day without one. But the name that came up caught him.

His eyes followed the trail of the fingers in the dark, dark enough to be seen, to a car.

A lady who looked not less than 16 summer emerged from the car. Her figure bent over to converse with whoever was driving the car.

It irked him to not know what was going on, so, he moved until he was standing in front of the little clique of men chit-chatting. They went silent for a split second at his sudden appearance, then strings of greetings met his ears.

He wordlessly answered with his fingers.

The lady took her time conversing. The door to the car went shut, and as silently as it parked, it reversed out.

With a big smile, she walked toward the man she was oblivious of.

When she was at least 15 steps away from him, and when noticed him, she halted in her steps. Her brain Flatout went into a dilemma; should she turn back? But where would she go to? Or should she approach him? That would only mean trouble.

He seemed to read her dilemma, so he saved her the trouble. "War do. (Come here)"

She visibly gulped at the sound of that.

Deciding what color she wanted her funeral themed with, she paid heed to him, until she was standing at least five feet away from him.

The brightness on the screen of his phone met that of his eyes. The clock read 11:38 Pm.

The screen flashed before her eyes, "Noi wakkati man? (What time is it?)"

When she didn't answer him, he nodded his head, as if to say okay then.

He shoved the phone back.

"Zo nan don ubanki." His index and thumb found a way to sandwich her ear in a tight grip and he dragged her along him.

They walked past the squad of men who lead him right to where he found.

He heard protests, all sorts of them.

From, "Hamma, ka tsaya kaji. (Stop and listen)" To, "Wait!"

But he didn't listen.

She also didn't listen. So, why would he?

Another six minutes walk back to where he had previously left.

When his now bare feet made contact with the flush carpet, he focused all his energy on the hand that was wrapped around her ears, flung it to his fore with his whole might, and released her.

Her back made a crack contact with the couch that was now supporting her back.

"Daga gidan uban wa kike? Sannan wani shegen ne ya sauqe ki karfe shabiyu?"

"Nikam Am i talking to the walls?" His hands flew over to motion at the tall walls of the manor.

Tremulously, her voice came, her hands lifting to cover her face. "Na non. (No)"

"Toh waya ajiyeki?"

She shook her head, her back continuously hitting the fore of the couch as she tried to move back. When it seemed like there was no escape, and just when he had swiped his gaze over the hall, looking for something probably to use on her, she spoke bristly. "Yayan yer ajimun ne."

"Wato don kin rena ni, yaron da na hana ganin sa, shine yake dawo dake gidan nan karfe shabiyu ko?" His right palm rested on his forehead for a few seconds before he lunged for her. His foot made contact with her thighs, then her abdomen, once, twice.

She let out a scream. "Wait! Ba haka bane. Hamma, ka tsaya ka sauraren."

He knew his anger was clouding his judgment, but he didn't care. He needed an outlet anyway.

He stood for a second to watch her trembling hands and legs. "Start talking before i beat the hell out of you."

"I went to a wedding. A wedding. My classmate's wedding. The event closed at 11 and I didn't come with a driver. My friend's brother had to drop me."

At her explanation, instead of simmering down his anger, she had only fueled it.

"Baki san cewa curfew naki 7pm bane? Are you mad, staying at an event har shadaya?"

She shook her head.

He hated asking a question and not getting an answer.

He also hated getting an answer more.

"Ke ni Ina wasa da ubanki ne da ina tambayanki kina min shuru?" His foot kicked the side of her tummy just in time for the double doors he had exited less than fifteen minutes to open up.

An elder woman and a younger one with a sleeping kid wrapped around her emerged energetically towards the commotion. Another woman trailed them.

"What is going on here?"

At the sound of the old woman, the trembling girl stood up to run towards her.

"Kneel down there! In kika qara step daya sena karya ki." At the promising threat, her knees defeatedly made contact with the, her waterworks increased and she twisted to her angle.

"Me haka?" The older woman asked.

"Haba Hamma, me ta maka?" The lady with the kid wrapped around her upper limb exclaimed, pointing at the kneeling lady that had a striking resemblance with her and the man standing too.

"Me ta mini? Gata nan ai, ask her what she did." His face turned to the frame kneeling and trembling. "Vi mo ko a wadi. (Tell them what you did.)"

"I came back from the wedding I told you about, then he just pounced on me and didn't let me explain."

His eyes and mouth momentarily went wide at her words.

Like a flash, he was closing on her.

"Ina wasa da ke ne?" A spontaneous slap had the girl's head snapping to the side.

He repeated his words and actions. "Ina wasa da ke ne? Ni, dan Qannen ubanki zaki chanzawa magana?" Her face snapped to the side when the back of his hand made contact with her cheek.

Slap.

Slap.

Slap.

"Haba Abba, haba Abba." The baby mama stepped in between the fuming man and the crying girl while gently juggling the kid that was starting to stir in his sleep. "Dan Allah ya isa haka. Ko me tayi ya isa haka. Zo nan ka zauna." It took a little more than a few seconds of the raging man staring down at the trembling and kneeling girl before he paid heed to the words.

The old woman had already made herself comfortable on the couch and the other woman who seemed to be acting like a guard stood at the back of the couch.

The man, the mother, and her kid sat down on a similar couch and everyone went silent except for the trembling girl on the floor.

A minute or 2 went by with no one doing or saying anything other than staring at the crying girl.

The short, fair, old woman sighed and took her bore off the girl. Next, it landed on the man shooting daggers at the girl. "Jodoma, ko fe'i? (Jodoma, what happened?)

He looked away, his anger slightly diffusing, but still strong as ever. "Mama nifa kawai na fita ne then I heard the guards talking about, Ga yer iskan ta dawo ai. Only to turn around and see Mima. This girl was dropped off yanzunna by someone. When I asked her who it was, she said it was her friend's brother. And I'm sure wanchan yaron dana hanata gani ne." His index was pointing at Mima when he had finished talking.

Mama's gaze followed his fingers to Maryam's frame. As calm as ever, she inquired, "Hakane Mima?"

The girl nodded.

The mother quickly stood up. "Fatima!" She called out and received a response a few seconds later. "Nemo min belt!" She then looked down at her daughter, threatening. "Ya qara miki duukan tinda kin rena shi kin rena ni."

Mima let out a wail before her palms wrapped around her mum's thighs. "Mama, don Allah karki barsa ya taba ni." She pleaded, voice breaking at the end.

"Ya za ayi bazan taba ki ba. Me it's even what she's wearing that is bothering me. Mama ki duba kayan da yake jikin yarinyar nan." He motioned at the straight gown that had a front slit from her the base of her knees till the end of the dress. The off-shoulder dress had a net that was sewn into a long sleeve but did nothing to hide her entire arms and shoulders.

He stood up, his anger remigrating in full force. "Kai. Wohoho. Ku banni in doki yarinyar nan hankalin kowa ya kwanta." At his attempt to lunge at her again, she hid behind their mother and the woman raised her palm to stop him.

"Ya isa Sudais. Talk to her." She sat after that.

"Haba Mama. Yaza ayi a bar yarinyar nan tayi ta yin abinda takeso ne. Yarinya tabi ta lalace. Wallahi duk zuwanta Nile innan ne ta zama haka." He stalked from the left to the right, his glare and fingers directed at the sobbing girls. "Ke in fact, Yola zaki dawo da karatu. AUN nan...Ke tsaya ma, wani AUN ne, state university zan sama miki transcript bayan exams ki dawo tinda kin rena kowa kina ganin kin girma." To show he wasn't joking, and she knew that he wasn't, he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Maryam had crawled away from her mum and was at his feet the second before the line had started to ring.

"Please, don't take me away from Nile. I am sorry. I can't go to the state's university...please. Don girman Allah da annabi." He wasn't her dad, but he could easily make things happen or call off events from her life and no one would say anything. They believed he had her best interest at heart. He always did. So, she wasn't stupid enough to let him talk on the phone as she was sure he'd make what he just said come to life.

She continued to beg him until he ended the call. It was a threat anyway. And even if it wasn't, it was midnight. Why would he call a friend at that time of the night?

He shook his leg indicating for her to let go of it and she did. She looked up at him with mascara-stained tears, fingerprinted cheeks, and clasped fingers at the anterior of her neck, wordlessly begging him.

He internally sighed. He would hate anyone if they did that to him.

He waved his hand. "Barnan."

She let out a final cry before stomping off to her room as ordered.

He landed heavily on the couch the baby mama occupied. The impact made her bounce up and back down as her hand cautiously flew to hold the back of her baby's head.

His fist hit the empty side of the couch, "This... family makes me want to drink pier pier."

"Mugudu ko mu tsaya?" Mama asked, smiling at his tired figure.

"Ask him oo."

"Ku gudu kuje ina? Maijidda, we die here oo." It was easy for him to be angry this second and make jokes the next.

"Allah ya sawwaqe. I go carry my kids japa tomorrow nikam."

"Safe journey. Daman mun gaji."

"Well then, I guess you'll have to get someone for your dambu."

He gestured at the sixteen-foot-long corridor entrance where Mima disappeared into. "Nida na ke da Mima." He had forgotten what had just transpired a few moments ago. When he realized the stare Maijidda had been giving him, he sucked air in realization. "Ohhh..."

Eight hours later, he found himself knocking lightly at his mum's door. When his salam was answered, he pushed one of the double doors open and stepped in.

He met the sight of a man who he had borrowed his features from. Except for his light brown eyes.

When he was a few feet from the man who sat crossed-legged on the queen-sized bed in a plain white babban riga, with no sign of undershirt, his knees made contact with the floor.

"Jam waali, baba. (Good morning baba)"

The usual smile Sudais always got after showing his manners wasn't showcased that day. "Abba? jam tan. (Abba? All Good.)"

Alhaji Idris Mamman, called Baba Alhaji, a tall, dark man who had seen 7 good decades on earth and still had his touch with him, gestured at the couch behind Sudais. "Sit down."

"No, I'm fine here."

Baba Alhaji was as much of a talkative as Sudais. Sudais had confidently admitted on numerous occasions that he got his chit-chatty side from his dad. As such, it took him off guard when a minute or more had passed and the room was still silent.

He glanced at the two large doors adjacent to the double doors he came through in. Where was his mum?

Toilet? Closet?

She was going to appear anyways so he looked back to his dad's figure who was mouthing azhars whilst slowly dragging the chasbih in his right hand between his fingers.

After more minutes of silence, the old man's voice came again, "I heard you have been mannerless towards your mum these days."

The younger, tall, lesser darker man's head snapped to the angle of the voice. Him? Mannerless to his mum? Who made that up?

His hand rose, confusion evident on his face, "Yallaboi moi? (Sir, who?)"

"Sudais." His chasbih left the comfort of his fingers to lay on the mattress. He repeated, more powerful. "A Sudais. (You Sudais.)"

That was the cue given to Sudais that he wasn't in a funny conversation. His eyes met that of his well-reserved and manicured fingers. His rave had started to hit up.

Accusations with baseless meanings.

"Kayi shuru kaqi yin magana." Baba Alhaji pushed.

Sudais hesitated for a second before his hands flew up in an attempt to demonstrate his dilemma. "Ni-Baba mi famani. Ban san mena mawa Mama ba. (I-baba I don't understand) We were perfect yesterday. I mean...I mean she talked to me about marriage yesterday. But that was it, we're ok."

The old man shook his head, his stoic posture not faltering. "Not your mum."

Sudais' eyes momentarily closed at his dad's declaration. Not now, please.

"Since you want to pretend, I mean Hajiya Khadijat. Mama kaka. Ko ka manta ta?" He raised a brow, jutting his chin. "Your mum which you haven't greeted for two weeks since you came here."

Well, well, well, If it wasn't the topic he was avoiding.

Who even told the senior man?

But was he kidding? The manor could turn a single sentence into the most dramatic scandal of the season. As such, he wasn't surprised. He had only hoped to dodge the discussion until he was hundreds of miles away from home.

"What reason do you have to back up your actions?" Even when angry, Baba Alhaji was a considerate man. A value Sudais, unfortunately, didn't pick up from him.

He wanted to groan out his simple reason, "She disrespected my Mum."

"She lost her manners, so it gave you the go-ahead to also lose yours?"

He shook his head at that, "Kay Baba. (No baba.)"

"Good. You are going to go greet her, apologize and move on." He heard the finality in the voice the moment YOU came in. "She is out, when she's back, I want to hear from the walls that you have visited her and you have gotten rid of your mannerless-ness."

"Insha Allah." He didn't want to, but he knew better than to say or think otherwise.

There were two things everyone needed to know about people with anger issues. Most importantly, things about Sudais and the men in his family. First; they will get violent when triggered. Whether physical or verbal. Second; they were going to forgive and forget after making their point.

That was what happened. Effectively, his dad brought up another topic more humor. "Muri has found the girl he wants to marry."

"Muri de?" Sudais almost let out a laugh.

His younger brother, Murtala-Muri, wanted to get married. What was that? The joke of the year?

Baba Alhaji shook his head, his smile evident and the humor in his voice clear. "Muri de da ka rena in."

"Toh Allah ya sanya Alkhairi."

"Amin Amin."

"Saura kai."

He looked away, another topic he had been avoiding: The marriage talk.

"Da kanajin tausayi na da se ka yadda a hada aurenku tare. People have started talking, years later, you still don't want to fulfill your old man's dying wish."

Sudais' smile dissolved. "Baba ka dena cewa dying wish don Allah. I'll get married at the right time and you'll be there as my waliyy."

The old man chuckled, "Yaro kenan. I am 71, Abba, i have 3 wives, 8 living kids and i wish to see all 8 married and happy before i depart this world."

The young man felt the need to assure the pitiful old man.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the door interrupted him. His mother, Baraka-Mama stood in front, and his sisters, Hauwa-Maijidda and Maryam-Mima, stood behind their mother, holding hands.

Maijidda was the first to voice her thoughts. "Ana family meeting ne shine ko a gayyace mu?"

The old man laughed lowly at the sight and vocals of his wife and kids. "A'a, i was just telling this brother of yours what life is all about."

Mama was the first to start walking toward the duo, the rest did the same.

She walked past Sudais who didn't bother to greet her, knowing full well she wouldn't answer him until she had greeted her husband.

The trio let their parents do their usual morning Salams.

Maijidda and Mima stood for a few more seconds in the heart of their mom's room to stare at their parents, then they proceeded to look for a place to sit.

Sudais' goggles rested on that of his sisters. Specifically Mima. As usual, he had come down from his high, and he needed to talk to the girl.

Mima had her eyes on the floor, her grip on Maijidda's right hand tightened at the thought of Sudais mentioning what had gone down last night.

Baba Alhaji would most likely order Sudais to give her round two just like their mother had threatened.

Their family might be big and whatnot, but their parents and even they believed in domestic punishment.

"Mima." He called out.

She took seconds to compose her demeanor before looking at him, her eyes slightly water-packed at the edge.

He tapped the space by his right, summoning her with a small smile.

She looked at her elder sister for confirmation and she got one. Maijidda gave her a tap of encouragement on her arm.

She limped to his side and placed her hand on his opened one. In her attempt to sit without scraping any sort of pain from sitting on the floor, the old man noticed and didn't keep shut about it. "Koi yanu ma, Mima? (What is wrong with you, Mima?)"

Mima's grimace met with that of her old woman, who sat/ kneeled beside their old man on the bed. The woman's face remained expressionless which only meant Mima was on her own.

"I tripped on the stairs while coming down."

Baba Alhaji's look visibly soured up before he gave an apologetic smile to his kid. "Sannu mamana, garin yaya?"

Sudais gently pulled Mima down and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, her face immediately buried into him.

"Oil was spilled by mistake and the maids went to get something to clean up, but Mima didn't know and she came down."

This time, he didn't cover up because he was afraid of letting his dad know he beat the crap out of his sister.

He wanted to cover up for her because she had had enough. She didn't need another family member wanting or ordering someone to beat her up.

"Ohh...nasha cewa ayi renovating duk chambers innan a chire stairs. Yana zubda mutane."

After that, Maijidda took that as a cue to greet her dad. Followed by Mima. And Sudais greeted his mom too.

When the clock had hit 9 Am, the old man and woman and Maijiida took their leave to the old woman's lounge for breakfast.

At the door, the old man turned to his son. "Na roqe ka da Allah kaje kasa kaya." From the man's perspective, a T-shirt and sweatpants were not clothes.

When asked whether Sudais and his sister were joining, Sudais said they'd take a minute.

The door shut close and Mima's breath started to brass up.

He stared at the ceiling's long curtains, out the large windows, and right into a burnt old building. "Mima..." it was wrong on so many levels how hard he had hit her to the point where she was limping even if he had every reason to.

Her nose and mouth shielded by his shirt, she still answered, "Uhmm."

"Kiyi haquri na buge ki."

She nodded, tightening her fingers more around him in an attempt not to break.

Moments passed by, then he started again. "Last week, in Sokoto or was it Zamfara, the jummu'at Masjid got raided. Do you watch the news with, Mama? Do you know what happened?"

She didn't watch the news, it was boring. So, she shook her head against him.

"The bandits slaughtered the men. And uhh..i-i mean animal slaughter. Then, they gang-raped the women and took the middle-aged kids. That was in daylight, Maryam." When he used her real name, he wasn't playing around. "Those women were dressed Hijabs, they were praying. Those men were praying. So were the kids. And that still didn't stop the nerve of these terrorists." He looked at his sister.

He lightly pulled her off, enough for her to stop burying her face in his frame, but not far enough to peel off his arm around her shoulders.

Her eyes avoided his at all costs, and his remained glued to her.

"I don't hate you, I'm scared for you. I am looking out for you. That aside. Need i remind you, we come from a royal home. You're a princess. We're Muslims. We're Fulani. You were attending a wedding for four days straight and coming home late at night. With the gang, i warned you to stop hanging around with, Mima. Haba, abun hauka ne? Me muka miki?"

She shook her head, sniffling and wiping the tear that fell from her eye. "Babu."

"Toh, Dan Allah mesa kikeyin haka?"

Silence.

"It's not good for our family reputation. Baba Alhaji would've done worse if he had found out. Bayida chill, aurar dake zeyi. Most importantly. It's not good for you. For your future. A nani yam? (Do you hear me?)"

"Yes."

"Daccu, kinji ko? (Stop it, do you hear?)"

She nodded her head.

"Your curfew is 7pm. Bake babu hanging out da wannan bad gang in. Sannan kar na sake ganin kaya irin na jiya a jikinki. Kinji kam ko?"

"Naji." Her cracked voice came. Her fingers found a place in his which he had placed in front of her.

"Toh yayi. Kin yafe min?"

He waited a few seconds for her answer and indeed, he got one. She shook her head, and for the first time that morning, their eye met. "No. You have to compensate me with money."

His forehead worry lines dissolved until their lips curved up in a smile almost in sync. His palm that hung around her shoulder lightly hit her and they burst out laughing.

"Kinada maitan kudi, Mima."

"Eey. Kuma duk wanda yaci shi kadai, shi kadai ze mutu."

He agreed to that. He rose a bit from the floor and his fingers made contact with his wallet in his back pocket. He pulled it out and proceeded to decide which ATM card of his he was going to give her.

Her fingers wrapped around the base of the plastic he put out but he didn't let go. "Not more than 25k, Mima."

"Yes, yes, noted."

He dragged, "Not more than 25k, Mima. My bank app keeps logging out that's why I can't transfer it to you but I don't trust you with my ATM."

The short, fair, and chatty girl pouted. "Haba Hamma. Me ka mayar dani?"

"Yer 419 mana. Yau kika fara?"

She ignored his comment and snatched the ATM before abruptly standing up.