As she began to speak, her siblings and their mother stared at her intently. "Good heavens," "My goodness," "A disaster," and "Here we go again," they thought.
Once she finished her story, wiping tears from her face, her mother, who had been watching her closely, said, “Auta? Come here, come closer to me, Auta.”
Hauwa stood up with a pampered, sluggish air and sat where her mother pointed. Her face was puffed up with a sense of triumph; she was happy, believing her grievances had been accepted and that they would surely call her husband to give him a stern warning. But as she sat down, she felt her ear grabbed and pulled firmly, followed by a sharp knock on the head. Her mother looked at her sternly and asked, “For your father’s sake, how old do you think I am now?”
The one called Auta held her head in shock, looking at her mother. What had she done now?
Her sisters couldn't help but burst into laughter; their mother’s reaction had killed them with mirth.
Her mother, with a serious face, said, “I’m being serious. The nonsense she just reeled off has made me confused about her age. I’ve forgotten how old she is.”
Their eldest sister, whose frustration outweighed her laughter, shook her head and said, “Umma, Hauwa is twenty-two years old.”
The mother held her head, looking at Hauwa with a look of disbelief. “So, at twenty-two, she isn't a child, right? It can't be said she wasn't old enough for marriage when we wedded her off? Or is it that I’ve pampered her too much?”
The middle sister asked, “Where did we go wrong with the pampering, Umma? We don't see it as pampering. Where did you even get this fairy tale from?”
The sister two years older than Hauwa pursed her lips, looking at their mother and said, “Where else would she get it if not from the world of **NOVELS**?”
The sister named Nana Mariama interrupted, “No, no, Fadila. Who told you every novel is full of madness and nonsense? And who told you the authors live that kind of life? Or that a novel tells you to copy everything inside it? She knows exactly where she got her nonsense—either from modern friends or school—but leave novels out of it. Even I, at my age and with my children, read novels.”
"Wait, what did I do? What did I do?" Hauwa cried. “Why are you acting like you didn't hear what I said? Can't you see the misery I'm in? Don't you see the mountain of trouble I'm facing?”
The sister next to the eldest, Humaira, snapped, "For God's sake, shut up! Stop shouting 'misery' at us while we are out here looking for relief. You, if not for a total lack of sense... if you even have any sense at all, what is wrong with your thinking? How can you gather us here, crying, calling us since before dawn, telling us everyone must come early because you are in 'distress'? You don't know our situations or how we managed to get here. We came here in a rush, only for you to stand there and reel off nonsense like this. You’ve lost your mind! How is Bashir supposed to live with someone like you?
You made us lose our composure, waiting to hear what terrible thing he did to you, only for you to say **BASHIR** doesn't love you because he doesn't 'feel your pain.' That he doesn't bother to ask what you want for breakfast—as a bride of only one month! That he doesn't do that pampered 'doting.' That when you had a headache, he didn't go into the kitchen to cook for you. You asked why he doesn't treat you like in the movies—carrying you to the bath and wrapping you in a towel. For God’s sake, Hauwa, are you a baby? Or were you sent to a marriage house to live in a film?"
The next sister shook her head, smiling mockingly. “You forgot, Sister. She also complained that the day after their wedding, he didn't give her car keys or call a private doctor for her. And that when she dresses up, he doesn't lose his mind showering her with praises. Or the day she cooked four different dishes, and he scolded her, asking why she'd cook four dishes for just two people and told her not to do it again... You, Auta, whose daughter do you think you are? You're lucky he hasn't slapped the sight and hearing out of you yet.”
Their mother sighed. “Oh, what has this world come to! Now, Auta, I lived in your father’s house and gave birth to six of you. Where did you ever see such things? I lived with co-wives; which of them did you see being treated like that?”
Hauwa’s face crumpled. “But Umma, you guys are old, aren't you?”
The mother balled her fists. “Take this! I say, to hell with your nonsense, Hauwa.”
The eldest sister shook her head and said, “Ule, come here. Come close to me.”
Hauwa stood up, rubbing her head from the knock she’d received, and looked at her sister. “Why should I come when Umma has already finished beating me?”
“Just come...”
She walked over and sat down, but she shielded her face, fearing another slap. Calmly, the eldest said, “Ule, sit and listen. I want you to protect your dignity, protect your mother’s, and protect ours. Go back to your house and live your marriage. Honestly, Hauwa, marriage is not a joke. How can you bring a complaint based on a fairy tale? Between you and God, you are a grown woman; if he said he wanted to carry you, would you even allow it? You are living in a paradise. If you heard what others face in their marriages, what would you say?”
Another sister added, “Sister, tell her. Maybe she'll gain some sense.”
The eldest shook her head. “No, we won't tell her just to upset her.”
The mother, still looking at her daughter in shock, said, “No, give her a small taste of your own marriage lives, so she can drop this nonsense.”
Husaina, who had been silent until then, spoke up. “Really, Auta, what is the big deal? Did all those things you listed stop you from eating, drinking, or having clothes? Is he bringing other women into your home?”
Before she could answer, another sister said, “Sister, I, who lack food, drink, and clothes, am still sitting in my husband's house. Even when he treats me cruelly, do I say anything?”
The middle one added, “Hmph. I, whose husband comes home at 2:00 AM drunk and hurling insults—what have I said?”
Hauwa looked at them in total shock. “No, I swear, no. I don't believe what you're saying. Sister, please tell me they are lying.”
The eldest sister smiled sadly. “Auta, it’s not a lie.”
Hauwa said, “Sister, but surely Nadia’s father doesn't mistreat you? He's a righteous man; he doesn't even look us in the eye out of respect.”
She smiled. “Alhamdulillah, I don't lack food, drink, or clothes. I thank God for his character—he respects my mother, my father, and my siblings. His character is fine... except for the beatings. When he is angry, he hits whoever is near him, even if it's me.”
"Good God..." Hauwa said, her eyes wide, putting her hands on her head.
Key Summary of the Sisters' Troubles:**
* **Nana Maryama (The Eldest):** Her husband is respectful to the family but has a violent temper and beats her and the children over small things.
* **Munira:** Her husband, Sagir, took a second wife and now treats her with contempt and hatred, though he still provides food.
* **Humaira:** Her husband, Aminu, is a merchant who is rarely home. When he is, he is stingy. When he is away, he leaves her with almost no money, forcing her to rely on her parents and her own small business to feed the kids.
* **Husseina:** Her husband, Salis, is an alcoholic who comes home late, insults her parents, and forces himself on her in a drunken state.
* **Rahila:** Her husband, Rabilu, uses "silence" as a weapon. He will ignore her for weeks, refusing to speak or give her money for the children's needs, even if they are sick, yet expects intimacy at night without a word of apology.
**The story concludes with Hauwa realizing that her "problems" (her husband not being romantic enough) are nothing compared to the "war" her sisters are fighting in their marriages.**
Marriage: A Woman's War**
As she began to speak, her siblings and their mother stared at her intently. "Good heavens," "My goodness," "A disaster," and "Here we go again," they thought.
Once she finished her story, wiping tears from her face, her mother, who had been watching her closely, said, “Auta? Come here, come closer to me, Auta.”
Hauwa stood up with a pampered, sluggish air and sat where her mother pointed. Her face was puffed up with a sense of triumph; she was happy, believing her grievances had been accepted and that they would surely call her husband to give him a stern warning. But as she sat down, she felt her ear grabbed and pulled firmly, followed by a sharp knock on the head. Her mother looked at her sternly and asked, “For your father’s sake, how old do you think I am now?”
The one called Auta held her head in shock, looking at her mother. What had she done now?
Her sisters couldn't help but burst into laughter; their mother’s reaction had killed them with mirth.
Her mother, with a serious face, said, “I’m being serious. The nonsense she just reeled off has made me confused about her age. I’ve forgotten how old she is.”
Their eldest sister, whose frustration outweighed her laughter, shook her head and said, “Umma, Hauwa is twenty-two years old.”
The mother held her head, looking at Hauwa with a look of disbelief. “So, at twenty-two, she isn't a child, right? It can't be said she wasn't old enough for marriage when we wedded her off? Or is it that I’ve pampered her too much?”
The middle sister asked, “Where did we go wrong with the pampering, Umma? We don't see it as pampering. Where did you even get this fairy tale from?”
The sister two years older than Hauwa pursed her lips, looking at their mother and said, “Where else would she get it if not from the world of **NOVELS**?”
The sister named Nana Mariama interrupted, “No, no, Fadila. Who told you every novel is full of madness and nonsense? And who told you the authors live that kind of life? Or that a novel tells you to copy everything inside it? She knows exactly where she got her nonsense—either from modern friends or school—but leave novels out of it. Even I, at my age and with my children, read novels.”
"Wait, what did I do? What did I do?" Hauwa cried. “Why are you acting like you didn't hear what I said? Can't you see the misery I'm in? Don't you see the mountain of trouble I'm facing?”
The sister next to the eldest, Humaira, snapped, "For God's sake, shut up! Stop shouting 'misery' at us while we are out here looking for relief. You, if not for a total lack of sense... if you even have any sense at all, what is wrong with your thinking? How can you gather us here, crying, calling us since before dawn, telling us everyone must come early because you are in 'distress'? You don't know our situations or how we managed to get here. We came here in a rush, only for you to stand there and reel off nonsense like this. You’ve lost your mind! How is Bashir supposed to live with someone like you?
You made us lose our composure, waiting to hear what terrible thing he did to you, only for you to say **BASHIR** doesn't love you because he doesn't 'feel your pain.' That he doesn't bother to ask what you want for breakfast—as a bride of only one month! That he doesn't do that pampered 'doting.' That when you had a headache, he didn't go into the kitchen to cook for you. You asked why he doesn't treat you like in the movies—carrying you to the bath and wrapping you in a towel. For God’s sake, Hauwa, are you a baby? Or were you sent to a marriage house to live in a film?"
The next sister shook her head, smiling mockingly. “You forgot, Sister. She also complained that the day after their wedding, he didn't give her car keys or call a private doctor for her. And that when she dresses up, he doesn't lose his mind showering her with praises. Or the day she cooked four different dishes, and he scolded her, asking why she'd cook four dishes for just two people and told her not to do it again... You, Auta, whose daughter do you think you are? You're lucky he hasn't slapped the sight and hearing out of you yet.”
Their mother sighed. “Oh, what has this world come to! Now, Auta, I lived in your father’s house and gave birth to six of you. Where did you ever see such things? I lived with co-wives; which of them did you see being treated like that?”
Hauwa’s face crumpled. “But Umma, you guys are old, aren't you?”
The mother balled her fists. “Take this! I say, to hell with your nonsense, Hauwa.”
The eldest sister shook her head and said, “Ule, come here. Come close to me.”
Hauwa stood up, rubbing her head from the knock she’d received, and looked at her sister. “Why should I come when Umma has already finished beating me?”
“Just come...”
She walked over and sat down, but she shielded her face, fearing another slap. Calmly, the eldest said, “Ule, sit and listen. I want you to protect your dignity, protect your mother’s, and protect ours. Go back to your house and live your marriage. Honestly, Hauwa, marriage is not a joke. How can you bring a complaint based on a fairy tale? Between you and God, you are a grown woman; if he said he wanted to carry you, would you even allow it? You are living in a paradise. If you heard what others face in their marriages, what would you say?”
Another sister added, “Sister, tell her. Maybe she'll gain some sense.”
The eldest shook her head. “No, we won't tell her just to upset her.”
The mother, still looking at her daughter in shock, said, “No, give her a small taste of your own marriage lives, so she can drop this nonsense.”
Husaina, who had been silent until then, spoke up. “Really, Auta, what is the big deal? Did all those things you listed stop you from eating, drinking, or having clothes? Is he bringing other women into your home?”
Before she could answer, another sister said, “Sister, I, who lack food, drink, and clothes, am still sitting in my husband's house. Even when he treats me cruelly, do I say anything?”
The middle one added, “Hmph. I, whose husband comes home at 2:00 AM drunk and hurling insults—what have I said?”
Hauwa looked at them in total shock. “No, I swear, no. I don't believe what you're saying. Sister, please tell me they are lying.”
The eldest sister smiled sadly. “Auta, it’s not a lie.”
Hauwa said, “Sister, but surely Nadia’s father doesn't mistreat you? He's a righteous man; he doesn't even look us in the eye out of respect.”
She smiled. “Alhamdulillah, I don't lack food, drink, or clothes. I thank God for his character—he respects my mother, my father, and my siblings. His character is fine... except for the beatings. When he is angry, he hits whoever is near him, even if it's me.”
"Good God..." Hauwa said, her eyes wide, putting her hands on her head.
Key Summary of the Sisters' Troubles:**
* **Nana Maryama (The Eldest):** Her husband is respectful to the family but has a violent temper and beats her and the children over small things.
* **Munira:** Her husband, Sagir, took a second wife and now treats her with contempt and hatred, though he still provides food.
* **Humaira:** Her husband, Aminu, is a merchant who is rarely home. When he is, he is stingy. When he is away, he leaves her with almost no money, forcing her to rely on her parents and her own small business to feed the kids.
* **Husseina:** Her husband, Salis, is an alcoholic who comes home late, insults her parents, and forces himself on her in a drunken state.
* **Rahila:** Her husband, Rabilu, uses "silence" as a weapon. He will ignore her for weeks, refusing to speak or give her money for the children's needs, even if they are sick, yet expects intimacy at night without a word of apology.
**The story concludes with Hauwa realizing that her "problems" (her husband not being romantic enough) are nothing compared to the "war" her sisters are fighting in their marriages.**