The greatest gift you can give to humanity is the Truth.– Umm Zakiyyah 

The rickshaw (adaidaita sahu) driver sang along to the music booming from the booth behind the passenger’s seat.

Walida and the older woman beside her shared a look of frustration and disgust before the woman called out: “Kai, Dan Allah ka rage waqannan, zaka toshe mana kunne ne–please reduce the volume of this music, do you want to numb our eardrums?
Haba!” But the continued bobbing of the driver’s head indicated that he didn’t hear her. 

“Ah ah,” she turned to Walida who just shook her head, then Walida leaned forward to tap the driver’s shoulder with her purse. Immediately, he turned and smiled at her. 

“Hajiya yane–Hajiya, what’s up?” he asked, his grin as wide as his forehead. 

“Dan Allah ka rage waqannan–please reduce the volume.” She said. 

Still smiling, he replied: “Haba Hajiya, waqannan ne yake sani tuqi da kyau fa–this music enables me to drive well.”

“Iyye!” the woman gaped at him, eyebrows raised to reveal a fading pink eyeshadow. “Look at this fool, so of all things to make you drive well, you chose music?” She shook her head. “What happened to listening to Qur’anic recitation and doing azkar, will they cause accident? Kai, children of nowadays.” She shook her head again, her lips turned down. 

The corner of the young man’s eyes glared at her. “Toh, is it not better than drinking alcohol, see this Malama o!” 

“Dan Allah can–Get away!” She rebuked him. “I won’t even be surprised if you take alcohol to drive well, useless boy.” She hissed loudly, her round eyes stood out like shiny beads against her chocolate skin. 

“Ke!” the man shouted and abruptly stopped the tricycle, pulling out the keys from the ignition, with the music still on. He stepped out and stood against the woman’s side, eyes flaring. “Malama fito–Malama, come out!” he indicated with his hand. 

Walida gasped. Is this guy serious? 
The woman turned to him, then let out a squeal and clapped her hands in disbelief. “Kai, in ka isa ka zo ka fitar da ni–I dare you to throw me out.” She threatened. 

Kai, Walida mused, eyes moving from him to her. This guy that is thin like spaghetti and this woman that is wide like tomato basket. Who will carry who? She wondered. 

With dilated pupils, he began to breath heavily like a bull. “Haka kika ce–is that so?” Without awaiting her reply, and before Walida could protest, he threw his weight on the tricycle, causing it to jiggle. Walida and the woman screamed.

Without thinking, Walida jumped out, almost loosing her balance. Luckily for her, the ground was covered with weeds. She stood up, checking for bruises.

That was when she noticed that the woman didn’t jump after her. She was still inside, holding onto the seat, exchanging curses with the guy. She looked around, the place was deserted, the afternoon sun was their only witness, and then a small welder’s shack across the road. She watched his second attempt to lift up the tricycle when two young lads from the shack ran up to the driver, holding him down. 

Oh Allah! let me be going my way sha. It seems this woman can take care of herself. She thought and walked away from the scene. 

…

“Kai,” Hajja Muna exclaimed after Walida recounted the incident. She laughed and clapped her hands. “some boys are very shameless Wallahi.” 

“The woman fa, Ai ni na gane laifin ta–she’s not blameless, why would she stoop so low to his level? She could’ve just ignored him, It’s not as if she’s going to sleep inside the keke.” Walida said. 

Hajja Muna shrugged. “Ta ga zata iyane–It seems she can handle it.”
 
Walida rose her shoulders. “Toh, ya Abuja?” 

“Ah, lafiya kalau, saikin ga kayan lefe–It’s fine, if you see the bride’s things. Wai! She held her chin in amazement.

“Allah ya ba da zaman lafiya dai–My God keep them together.” Walida said.
“Toh mama, ba tsaraba ne–Mama, nothing for me?” she asked, smiling cheekily. 

Hajja Muna eyed her, “Carry me na, am I not tsaraba?” 

Walida chuckled and rose from the rug to join her on the sofa with white and brown square patterns. 

“Ehe, it’s good you came, dama I was planning to come but my leg…” she tapped her left leg. 

“Ba komai–no problem.” Walida said. 

“How is everyone doing?” 
“Fine Alhamdulillah, Shamsu sends his greetings.

“And my boys, I thought you’ll come with them.” 

Walida shook her head. “They went to Aisha’s house.”

“Toh, ya haquri kuma–how are you holding up?” 

“Alhamdulillah.”

“Allah ya kawo sauqi–May God bring ease.”

“Ameen ya Allah.” 

“Toh,” she turned to Walida. “I know things are a bit slow now as some of the house responsibility is now on your shoulders, but don’t go and allow him to leave it all to you fa. Kina jina–do you hear me?” She asked. 

Walida frowned, but nodded. 

“Because I know he has already started asking you for money to do this and that. So ki bi a hankali–be very careful, if not he’ll start relaxing, knowing that you’ll take care of everything. Show him now that it’s still his responsibility to take care of you and your children. In bashida shi, ya je ya nema–if he doesn’t have, let him go and find, it’s your right.” 

“But mama, Shamsu is a very hardworking man, bai cika demanding for kudi–money–just like that ba.” 

“Na sani, but yanzu kinsan he’ll not be as financially stable as he was before. Ni ban ce kar ki taimaka mishi ba–I didn’t say that you shouldn’t assist him, only that you should not let him take control of your earnings. Kina ji na ko?” She held her left ear, awaiting her reply. 

Walida nodded. But he’s not like that na. She argued in her head. 

“Saboda maza ba su da tabbas–Because men don’t have guarantee, you can decide to take up his responsibility for now as a good wife, but later when he recovers, he’ll forget all that you did for him and marry another wife.”

Walida gasped loudly, “Aure kuma?” she shook her head and took off her white waist length hijab. “this is just a temporary setback, it’ll soon be over. Now he's going to work with an old friend before everything is settled.” She shook her head again. 

Hajja Muna just watched her, eyebrows raised. “I know he is trying, but at the end of the day, namiji namiji ne–men are men, I’m just saying that you should be smart and very careful. Or have you forgotten about your cousin— Mariya, who sold her sewing machine so her husband could buy a keke to replace his motorcycle, only for him to go and pay one village girl’s bride price. 

No, these things only happen in films, My Shamsu is not like that. He can’t be. Walida mused, her mental voice getting louder. Hajja is just trying to scare me, I know that I shouldn’t dull myself, but to start suspecting my husband? Haba! 

“He is at his weakest now, you’re the only one he can depend on, but don’t give him the chance to turn you into an ATM machine. Ki san yadda za ki yi ki kare kanki. Na dai gaya miki–Know how you’ll help yourself, I’ve warned you. Ehey.”

“Assalamu alaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatu.” Alhaji Yusha’u greeted, as he rose the white curtain shielding the door. He was of coconut brown complexion at six foot, and had a burly build.

“Wa alaikum salaam.” They chorused. Walida stood, smiling widely. “Baba oyoyo.” She put her arms around him, feeling the warmth of his body and the vibration of his laugh.

I miss this, she mused. 

“How are you my dear?” he pulled back, a hand rested on her left arm. 

“I’m fine.” 

“Sannu da zuwa Alhaji.” Hajja Muna said behind them. Walida gaped at her, gone was the scowling mother, here was a radiant wife dressed in a white gown with yellow embroidery in front. Her wide smile highlighted the fairness of her skin, making her look younger than she was.

Is she bipolar? Walida wondered. 

“A-ha, Nagode.” He removed his cap, placed his walking stick on the center table and took off his grey outer wear (babban riga/agbada). 

Walida moved to collect them, but her mother pushed her aside. She pouted, “Haba Hajja, just this once, shebi you’re always around.”

Alhaji Yusha’u laughed, “Allow her mana, just for today.” 

Hajja Muna glared at both father and daughter. “Ba wani–Nothing like that, go home and wait for your husband too.” She said, grabbed the cap and outer wear, and sauntered away. 

She’s really bipolar, Walida thought with a laugh. 

…

Walida had planned to leave her parent’s house immediately after Asr (evening) prayer, but due to her father’s presence, she stayed longer till 08:00pm. Even at that, she felt like spending the night there, but with the look Hajja Muna gave her and the numerous missed calls she got from Shamsu, she forced herself out of their house.

Although, her father offered to drive her home. They had a lot of catching up to do. After all, she was his favourite after, her mother of course, and his mother— Nafisah, whom Walida was named after. 

As he parked by the gate, he turned to her. “Walidudu.” He called.

Walida rolled her eyes. “Baba, am no longer a small girl, imagine how the boys will look at me when they hear that name.” 

He chuckled, then broke into a fit of coughs. 

Walida, alarmed, helped pat his back until he stopped. “Bring me my bottle water.” He said
.
Walida went out to the backk seat and grabbed a half drunk bottle water.

After drinking, he sighed. “Shukran.” He whispered. 

“Baba, maybe you should just go home. I’ll come visit soon.” She said.

“No, I’m okay now.” He turned and caught her worried gaze. “I told you I’m fine. Besides,” he sat up. “I wanted to talk to you. On my way into the house, I heard a bit of what of what your mother was telling you.” He said.

Walida ducked her head. “Am I in trouble, Baba?” 

He smiled. “No my dear, I just want to share a word of advise with you, I hope there is still space in your head for more.” He joked as Walida laughed. This was what he used to say to her whenever he dropped her at her hostel. 
“Of course Baba, always.” 

“Okay, I know you and I trust that you would try to do the right thing, no matter what.”  Walida nodded. 

“But first, let me ask, has Shamsu ever done wrong to you, has he ever been unfair or selfish towards you?” 

Walida shook her head vigorously, “No baba.” 

“Toh,” he nodded. “I don’t need to tell you that you’re both in trying times now, I know things are a little bit different, if not hard. Now you both need one another, more than ever for all the love, patience, loyalty and support that you may require.”

“Yes baba.” 

“Under no condition should you disobey or look down on your husband simply because he’s unable to provide for you like he used to. I know you may be tempted to due to influence and all.” 

Walida nodded, already aware of the influence he was referring to. 

“But you should also know that there is nothing wrong in easing his financial burden, especially at a time like this. Do you know why?” He turned to her as she shook her head. 

“Because even if you don’t do it for him, you can do it for the sake of Allah. Karki manta fa,
Aure ibadah ne–Don’t forget that marriage is part of religion. So anything you do, should be His sake alone. As you’re married in a bid to please Allah, not just for love. Never forget that.” Walida nodded. 

“I understand why your mother will want to advise you on the contrary. Honestly, ban ga laifin ta ba–I don’t blame her. Because I’m aware and am a witness to some atrocities carried out by some men. But, you should also know that not all men are like that. You know that, don’t you?”  She nodded. 

“Toh, and I know Shamsu is a good boy: hard working and very sensible. In ways, he differs from his brother, but still, he’s trying.”

“Yes Baba.”

“So I don’t expect zai wulaqanta ki–he will mistreat you–and even if he does, you know where to find us.” He said. “But please, Dan Allah, kina jina–are you listening?” She bobbed her head. 

“Before you do anything at all, ask yourself: will Allah be pleased, will my parents be pleased, will this bring happiness and peace of mind for me and my family? Kina ji na?”

Walida nodded, this is exactly what I need. She thought. “Baba Nagode, Allah ya qara lafiya da basira Kuma ya sa albarka a duk Al’amuran ka–May Allah increase you in wisdom and increase the blessing in your affairs.” She said, eyes glistening but filled with love, admiration and gratitude.

“Ameen.” He replied.

“But Baba, why is Mama like that, why is she so hard and bitter about men? I believe something must have happened to make her like this."

He smiled and lowered his head. “ Your mother,” he paused and raised his head. “had a difficult time growing up. Back before I knew her very well, my uncle, who was her father’s best friend, used to send me on errands to their house. Most times, she used to be the one to receive me at the door before she goes in to call  her father. She used to be very lovely, playful and troublesome.”

He chuckled, with a faraway look in his eyes. He turned to Walida. “kind of like you and Kauthar.”
She smiled in return. 

“Until her father married again.” 
Walida noticed the subtle change in his orotund voice. Oh, she thought, her lips aretracting.

“You know her mother only gave birth to girls, four of them.” He held up four fingers. “After that, things began to change like the weather. It got so bad that my uncle was called several times to help sort them out. Personally, I don’t know who starts trouble between your grandmother and the second wife, but I know that your grandfather’ s aloofness affected Maimuna greatly.

"She became withdrawn, bitter and filled with hatred. Especially when her mother moved out of the house. And few months later, she died of heart attack. Maimuna blamed her father and his second wife for her death. I still don’t know if she has forgiven them or not.” He shook his head. 

“Innalillahi…” Walida placed a hand over her mouth. 

Alhaji Yusha’u sighed. “I was schooling in the city then, when I heard. Later, I got back and expressed interest in marrying her.” 

Walida felt her lips stretching. “You two were in love then.” 

He chuckled, “Not really,  we were just really good friends and she happened to be very funny and had a strong character, so I felt she’d make a good partner.” He shrugged. “Although her father didn’t agree at first, he lamented that she was too wild. That she had even beaten up the second wife, which led to the loss of her first and only pregnancy.”

“Heee!” Walida’s eyes almost popped out. 

He nodded, resting his head against the seat “I love her, though am not proud of her thoughts and actions sometimes, but deep inside, “he tapped his chest. “I know she’s in the there somewhere: that beautiful, happy village girl.”

He turned to her. “You shouldn’t take the wrong things she said to heart, you know better which advice to take and which one to leave. At the end she only wants what’s best for you. We both do.”

Walida nodded. Then her phone began to ring. She glanced at it, then at her father. 

“Toh, Maigida na qira–Your husband is calling.”

She laughed. “Sai da safe Baba–see you tomorrow, Baba.”

“Sai da safe, my regards to the family.”

She climbed out and shut the door behind her. Then she waved as he drove away, watching him go till his taillights disappeared into the night. 

A/N
This chapter is a long one. But I enjoyed writing it.

What do you think?

Which is your favourite part? The keke incident, Hajja Muna's part or Haji Yunusa's part?

And which advice will you take if you were in Walida's shoes?

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